Chapter Eleven: Intentions
Draco leafed through his notes idly. He'd been doing a lot of research, and each clue sent him further and further into the books. He'd eventually opened up a world of magic that he had never known existed.
Doing this was like treasure hunting in a room full of gold - all of it was brilliant and fantastic, but what he wanted would take him even further. And that fact was so easy to forget when there were a million other fascinating things within the same pages.
He'd realized sometime between lugging around large, ancient volumes and sticking his quill behind his ear that he was acting just like Hermione used to. It was a startling realization. She'd had buck teeth for a while there, crazy hair, and was annoying - but in reality, he should never have tormented her based on her love of books and knowledge. Because he was becoming exactly the same way.
Well, Hermione was the girl that would put her ear next to a new book as she opened it just to hear the spine crack - a noise that would make her shiver with delight. And she'd also used to smell books - she'd go on about how good quality books smelled like unsalted pretzels.
He wasn't that... obsessed.
While she was a "read or die" kind of girl, he was the kind of guy that picked up a good book and would never underestimate what it could teach him. It should have forced him to take some of his coursework more seriously... and maybe should have made him go back to finish at Hogwarts.
But anyway.
Reading was the one thing he could concentrate on and not let his mind wander. Of course, if he was reading a book about death or souls or something like that, or if death was mentioned in a book, he might occasionally get sidetracked on his increased heart rate and shortness of breath... but that usually didn't happen. It was really too bad that the further he got into his research, the more he was finding that type of material.
The future did not look pretty for poor Luna's daughter - but since the prophecy was bogus anyway (and it was a good thing, too) it at least wouldn't come true.
Plus, he'd found something very disturbing about soulmates during his research:
One powerful magical connection is the magical bond between soulmates. All cultures have some form of the term "soulmate" - some have described it as love at first sight, and other cultures have described it as a divine union between two people on Earth, or a union eternally blessed by a higher power. This connection is said to be one of the most powerful magical connections, stemming from both the power of pure emotional magic and the strength of the physical connection. Soulmates who find each other and give in to the connection have joined souls. It is an enlightening experience - a person will feel as though their soulmate is the lone human being with significant thoughts and emotions in a sea of clones.
The awareness that these people have for each other is distinctly of the emotional magic form - no outside magic can change this connection, though a physical connection strengthens it. Although many attempts have been made at duplicating the soulmate connection with potions and chants, this form of magic has never been successfully recreated. Many attempts have also failed at manipulating this connection, and especially by the people whom it affects.
There is no specific soulmate for every person living at a time; a person can have hundreds of possible soulmates. Every soul resembles a piece of a two part puzzle in this way, and when two people find an exact match among many possibilities and engage themselves with that other person, the pieces of the puzzle snap together, and the souls are joined.
Typical reactions to this connection include confusion and an inability to forget the soulmate after a relationship has ended. Also, seeing a single person that stands out among many as being different in an almost unexplainable way is another symptom - victims have said that their soulmates possessed an "internal light" that they felt drawn to, and could not tear themselves away from.
Draco had looked up in alarm after reading that bit.
It was like reading his own death written out on a bit of parchment, set to take place at his ten o'clock appointment the next day. It was the kind of finding that could only be swallowed with Valium or some brandy. He'd been afraid to keep reading, and definitely did not like the next sentence:
Those with deceased soulmates find themselves wandering in a twisting abyss of dispair, and are usually never complete again from the loss, as if the deceased soumate had torn the other's soul.
Draco put his hand to his heart as it sped up.
Was he reading what he thought he was reading?
"Is something wrong, Draco?"
He wanted to be anywhere other than there. He wanted to be back in the Hall of Prophecy, filling in rows 223 through 246. He wanted to sort through old documents and written records. He wanted to read primary sources and take notes.
He did not want to be staring at the object of his thoughts - and within those thoughts, perhaps the object of something way more complicated.
He waved his hand and pulled his face together. He hadn't spent two years in Azkaban and come out without an idea of how to do that.
"It's nothing. I just found something the other day that - "
"Well, share it. It might help to get it off your mind."
His eyes widened a bit. "I don't think you want to know this, Granger," he said, panicking.
"How bad could it be?" she said, not unaware of his how much he wanted to hide it.
Draco looked at her. "Oh, it's pretty bad. Or... it could be pretty bad, depending on your reaction, and... what you think of me."
Hermione was getting worried - he was getting too cryptic. "Does it concern your safety? Because if so, you do have an obligation to let me know."
He stared into her concern filled eyes for a few seconds before forcing himself to calm down. "I don't want to share it right now." His own eyes screamed for her to concede.
Hermione saw the pleading look. "Okay. We can talk about it later. So... besides that... how is your path to happiness going?"
"It's getting harder. I'm having nightmares still."
Hermione nodded and took out her quill: Happiness: starting to hit hurdles. 1) Nightmares. "What other kind of difficulties are you having?"
Draco shook his head and looked at the ceiling, a thing he hadn't done in a week or two. That splotch... looked completely like Crabbe today - his dead friend. "Um," he said, getting control of his voice. "I think... I'm starting to fear death."
Hermione made no move on her quill at this admission.
"It's just... when I'm eating, or when I'm doing something, I'll wander off... and when I think of it in detail, sometimes I... spaz. I have a spaz attack."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is that what you were thinking of when you came in here?"
"Not exactly, no." He searched her face for her reaction - she had the distinct therapist look on her face, but behind it - he saw something else.
"Define 'spaz attack.'"
"Well, I just... I don't know. I feel like I have to physically brush it all away. Beat it up. Kick its arse, so that it'll leave me alone. I can't always control the spazzing. And then sometimes... it's like Death takes over my body and tries to pull my heart out of my chest."
Hermione nodded slowly, searching his face. He stared at her uncertainly.
"I mean, I can't even read about it in my research without getting all..."
"... flustered," she finished for him. He nodded admittedly.
"Well, considering your history... I mean, everyone you've known has gone. Family, friends... even enemies. It all takes its toll."
He nodded. It was creeping up on him, and he didn't want to start flailing around in her office. He fell his heart speed up.
"Listen - if these are real panic attacks, and you completely lose your ability to control them, then I may have to give you something for them. For a patient like you, it is definitely a last resort. But if you truly believe that they are bad enough, then I can give you the relief. Or... you can just owl me. I'm always available to talk, as I've said. Now, let's talk about something a little less traumatic. How is your little assignment going?"
If that is what she called "less traumatic," then she needed to be the one on the couch. Draco realized, then, just how much harder his assignment was going to be.
Actions remain in bass, but intentions in treble clef.
She had heard that in a song once, and felt that there was no better situation than this one to apply it to.
He was trying to get better, wasn't he? That was all that she wanted now. And he was making progress.
So then why was she crying?
She'd known that he'd had a terrible existence. He was twenty years old, and had suffered for most of those twenty years. So? It had made him a prat, and he could have changed it. He'd had plenty of opportunities.
And yet he was trying so hard now - she'd seen that today. Just... that look on his face. It reminded her distinctly of someone she knew:
Harry Potter.
"I just... I don't know what's wrong with me, Harry. He just looked so helpless."
Harry nodded, rubbing her shoulders. "It's okay. If he can inspire this in you, I can take it that he's making some really big changes. And that's great."
"God, he looked so much like you did a moment there - that frustration and the agony... the tiredness from everything..."
Harry nodded. He remembered that very well - in fact, Malfoy had been a big part of that, back in fifth year. "Well... I can probably relate then."
Hermione pushed her face into his robes, distantly hoping that her hair wasn't in his face. "He's such a prat though."
Harry shushed her and rocked her back and forth. So Malfoy was getting to her? For some reason, it didn't seem that strange to him. Of course Malfoy would start to change if she was his counselor - he knew just how seriously Hermione took her job and how much she went through in order to get her patients to change. She was probably one of the best counselors there was in that little office. He considered the possibility that Malfoy - known for his tricks - could possibly be pretending... but he dismissed that thought. The Malfoy he knew would have done that just to spring up in the end and say, "Guess what, I haven't changed one bit." But the new Malfoy, the one that had been through Azkaban and living with Death Eaters... probably wanted to change in order to put all of that behind him.
So... Harry could kind of see it.
"He'll always be a prat, Hermione... it's one of those things you can't change about him. You can change his ideas though."
Hermione nodded. She was going to have to put more force into that.
Tomorrow, she was going to do the blood exercise.
Draco looked over his sheet. He knew that he was possibly taking the assignment too far; and possibly, he wasn't taking it far enough.
What did the information he had read about that morning have to do with the assignment, anyway? It was covering two completely different topics.
Well... not exactly. They were both about the same person. That made the intentions behind his choice a little more fuzzy.
Okay. You don't know that the soulmate thing was talking about her, anyway.What was it that was making him fuzzy anyway? Was it the possibility that she was his soulmate? Yes, that was what was making him flustered. Not... her. Not any kind of hope that she wouldn't react badly to that information. And certainly not any kind of hope that when she'd said that she "couldn't leave him like that"... she'd really meant it, past the fact that she was a good person and cared about his well-being as a patient.
Certainly not that she couldn't leave him like that because she cared about him, in her heart.
Who could care about him?