It is currently 2AM, and I am soooo freaking tired; but I figured it has been forever since I updated, and I needed to put it up now. However, that means no personal review thank you's today, since I'm about to collapse. Sorry. But I will say, a HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to ALL of you. You guys are amazing... and here is the next chapter, just for you guys! Enjoy!
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I Don't Want To Feel
Chapter Seventeen
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You don't know what it is to regret.
--
Upon arriving at Malfoy Manor, Harry was right away shown into 'his' room. The first thing he saw in that room was green. And silver.
The Gryffindor was surrrounded with Slytherin colours. Not that he minded, of course. He gave the room's large bed a tentative glance, then fell back onto it. Before he could stop himself, Harry couldn't help but wonder if this had once been Draco's room. The room had the same distinct smell as the rest of the house, and bore no pictures, so to know this for certain was impossible.
It didn't stop Harry, however, from convincing himself that it was.
Just to put more on his mind. Just to make him think about Draco. Just to distract him from everything else.
Truthfully, Harry Potter was confused. Very confused. He didn't understand why Lucius Malfoy, of all people, had been the one to rescue him. He wasn't too sure what he had done to deserve any of this. Lucius was being almost... decent.
Harry stared at the green canopy above his bed, and once again his mind returned to Draco.
It often did.
He never did feel regretful though.
Not just yet.
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Draco Malfoy was being led through the halls of Hogwarts by Professor Severus Snape.
Correction; a very angry Professor Severus Snape.
What he was angry about, however, Draco was not sure. He had asked, of course, but had gotten a death glare in return. Ever since the Hogwarts battle, Draco had gone from 'favourite student' to joining Harry at the bottom of the list.
This reminder of Harry had not been a good thing to think about. Soon, Draco had fallen back into a depressed trance. It was broken soon after though, when he and his professor reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"What am I doing here, Sir?"
"Chocolate coins." Snape snapped, completely ignoring Draco's presence. The blonde just rolled his eyes at the grumpy professor's back and followed him up the winding staircase. The sight that he was met with when the door to Dumbledore's office opened confused him greatly.
In the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk sat Granger and Weasley, standing next to them was Remus Lupin.
Giving him one last glare, Snape stampeded out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Before Draco could say anything, or ask why exactly he was there, Weasley spoke before him.
"What is going on, Professor Dumbledore? What are we doing here; and why is he here?" Ron questioned, casting a look upon Draco, who just rolled his eyes and walked up to Dumbledore's desk.
"What's going on?"
"It's Harry." Dumbledore stated, his expression grim.
Before he could stop it, and remind himself that he shouldn't care, Draco's heart skipped a beat.
"What about him?" Granger spoke up, her voice sounding as if she was cautious about showing too much emotion on the subject.
"He's gone." Remus finished for the Headmaster, and Draco saw white for a second. He seriously thought he was going to faint.
There was a short silence as the information sunk in. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted once again by the red head next to him.
"Gone? As in--"
"We have no idea where he is."
"Maybe he's...on a walk, or--"
"He's nowhere on the Hogwarts grounds."
"But--how could he have left? Where would he go?" Hermione questioned, and Draco felt Lupin's eyes fall on him. He looked up to meet them, his expression (he hoped) blank.
"Don't look at me. I didn't do anything."
Ron and Hermione turned to him.
"No such accusation was being implied, Mr. Malfoy. We--Remus and I--just thought you might have some idea of where Mr. Potter would go." Dumbledore spoke up, breaking the awkward silence that had followed Draco's words.
Suddenly, Draco felt himself wishing that he did. Just so he could go to Harry and leave this place. Suddenly, Harry had been right. He didn't belong here.
And neither did Draco.
He began to breathe in and out. In and out.
Where had Harry gone? He was a Death Eater, yes, but... he had betrayed them. They wouldn't open him back with open arms; would they?
Besides, most of them had been captured by the Order anyway; hadn't they? The ones present at the battle were really the only ones that truly mattered. The powerful ones.
"Professor Dumbledore; did you capture all the Death Eaters that were present at the battle?"
There was a short silence.
"Most."
"Most!" Draco exclaimed, suddenly worried. He shouldn't have been; Harry shouldn't have meant anything to him anymore, and Harry probably wouldn't be with Death Eaters anyway...but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help caring.
"You don't suggest that--" Remus started, but Draco wasn't listening. He was breathing heavily again. In and out, in and out.
"Harry wouldn't go back to them!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, "He killed Voldemort!"
In and out.
"Who got away?" Draco finally asked, and everyone turned to him, Dumbledore's expression thoughful.
"The smart ones." Remus finally said, his expression blank. "The ones with an unfinished mission."
Dumbledore nodded. "The Lestranges were the main ones. Some unrecognizable, some known."
"And well..." Remus started up again, his eyes leaving Draco, and dropping to the ground. "Lucius Malfoy."
Draco's vision blurred.
In and out. In and out.
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Harry felt countless eyes on him throughout the whole meeting. He didn't say anything, however, because he knew that that was the first time most of them had actually seen his face at a meeting.
Harry knew he should have been paying attention to Lucius' speech, but he wasn't. His attention was drawn to a picture frame on the ledge of the fireplace; a picture frame that contained a picture of two blonde little boys. Harry's mind screamed the name of one of the boys, but the second one was unrecognizable.
Harry wanted to know who he was.
Thankfully, Lucius was calling the meeting to a close, and people began to disapparate out of the sitting room. Harry stayed in his seat however, staring at the ground. He only looked up when the last Death Eater left and Lucius collapsed in the armchair in front of the fire.
As Harry started to get up, his chair gave a creak and Lucius spoke up, but did not make any move of looking at Harry.
"Still here, Potter?"
Harry sighed. "Yes."
There was a short silence.
"Are you comfortable?"
"I--excuse me?"
Lucius turned his head slightly.
"Your room."
"Yes, of course. It's more than--"
"You need? Expected?"
"Well...yes."
"Hmm." Was all Lucius said, and he turned his attention back to the fire blazing in the fireplace. Harry got up to leave, but his attention was once again caught by the picture frame. Before he could make up his mind on whether to ask who it was or not, Lucius turned in his chair to pour himself a drink on the table next to him. His gaze fell on Harry, still standing there. He followed Harry's stare and sighed at what he found.
He drank the whole glass and once again turned back to the fire.
"My sons." He finally announced, causing Harry to jump slightly. Lucius stood up and walked towards the picture frame, picking it up and staring down at it. It was then that Harry realized what he had said.
"S--"
"Aiden. That was his name."
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had caught the 'was', and while he was curious as to what had happened, the look on Lucius' face made him afraid to ask. The older man before him was staring down at the picture, a far-off look in his eyes. There was pain. And regret.
So much regret.
"Quite ironic, actually."
Lucius cleared his throat, and placed the picture back in its place. Harry couldn't help but notice how gently he had done so, as confused as he was at that moment.
"It's late." Lucius suddenly said, clearing his throat once again. He was avoiding Harry's gaze. "You should get to bed."
Not wanting to argue, Harry nodded. As he began to walk out of the room, Lucius poured himself another drink and collapsed in his chair.
It was only later that Harry found out that 'Aiden' meant little fire.
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Harry walked through an endless field, filled with beautiful flowers and lush green grass. What he was doing there, however, he did not know. Suddenly, a few meters away, he spotted a head of blonde hair, and his face broke into a huge grin. It was Draco! The young man was on his knees, and his head was bowed. Excited, Harry began to run towards him.
"Draco!" He called, "Draco! It's me! Harry!"
The boy didn't move. He just kept his head bowed.
"Draco!" Harry called again, slowly drawing closer to the blonde.
This time, the blonde boy raised his head, and Harry was met by foreign eyes. Blue eyes. The ground opened up beneath him, and he was sucked into a dark, black abyss.
Before he had time to yell out in shock, Harry found himself in a cemetery, the blonde boy still kneeling a few meters away from him, but he was now holding a rose and rain was falling from the sky.
Harry slowly walked towards the lone figure, his heart racing.
Whose grave was he kneeling before?
"Draco."
Harry raised his hand towards the blonde, ready to place it on his shoulder, but his eyes caught a disturbing sight.
The boy turned to him at that moment, and blue eyes met green.
"Aiden?"
He turned away and placed the blood-red rose on the tombstone.
The tombstone that read Draco Lucius Malfoy.
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Harry sat up in the bed, wet.
Almost like his sweat-drenched self had actually been standing in the pouring rain.
He reached for the glass of water next to his bed, his thoughts still haunted by the images from his dream. Why had he been dreaming of Aiden? He didn't know anything about him; had never even met him.
Harry's thoughts, however, were interrupted by an eerie sound coming from somewhere in the house. Somewhere down the hall, most probably. Curious, Harry got out of the bed and walked blindly through the dark, his only guide a streak of moonlight illuminating the hardwood floor.
He opened his large bedroom door, and the sounds grew slightly louder. It was music; a piano.
It wasn't that, however, that drew Harry to it. It was its haunting tune; its melancholic notes. He quietly walked down the hall, desperate to find its origin. He turned a corner to find an empty hall, and at it's end, a large double door, slightly ajar and slightly illuminated on the inside.
Harry approached it cautiously, taking a chance and sticking his head inside the door. Inside, by a beautiful and majestic grand piano, sat a woman. A blonde woman.
Narcissa Malfoy.
She was playing intensively, as if nothing else in the world exsisted, and Harry suddenly felt bad for watching her. For listening to her. For being there. Before he could leave, however, the music stopped abruptly, and Narcissa turned her head towards the door.
Harry froze, and they stared at each other in complete silence. It was broken however, when Narcissa turned back to the piano.
"Did I wake you?"
"I--no ma'am. I woke up, thirsty, and heard you playing as I was drinking. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll just leave..."
"You may come inside...if you'd like to, of course."
"I--" Harry started, but didn't know what to say. Narcissa turned around again, however, to find the young man walking towards her. "You play very beautifully, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Thank you. Do you play the piano?"
"No, I never learned."
"Pity; it is a magnificent instrument. My Dr--" She paused in midsentence, her eyes shifting towards the ivory keys of the piano. She ran her thin fingers over them, and Harry looked at anything but her. He knew exactly what she had been about to say. "But that was a long time ago." She whispered, sighing.
There was a long silence, in which Harry began to grow very uncomfortable.
"You...were with him?" Narcissa finally asked, and Harry was confused as to who she was talking about. His confusion must have shown, for Narcissa continued. "With my son. With...Draco. When he died."
Harry's held his breath. Draco's voice came in his head; 'Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away?'
"Yes, I was."
"You killed him."
The scene from the graveyard in Harry's dream flashed into his mind, and for a split second, Harry had thought she meant Draco.
"For Draco."
Had it been for Draco though? Or for himself? Nothing made sense.
"Yes." Harry concluded, and Narcissa softly played a melancholic chord. To his reply, she just nodded.
Another chord.
"Why are you here?"
There was a short silence.
"You don't really know, do you?"
Harry turned away then, taking a step towards the door. He didn't need this confrontation.
"You don't know how it feels to lose a loved one, do you?"
Harry stopped dead. How dare she ask that question! He had lost more 'loved ones' than anyone put together! He was about to tell her this when she stood up, and walked towards him.
"You don't know how it feels to feel, do you?"
Harry dropped his head, his eyes on the ground.
"I don't want to feel. Feeling is weakness."
"You sound like Lucius. And look where that brought him."
Harry looked up sharply, his eyes meeting blue ones. Familiar blue ones. Aiden's blue ones.
"I am here because I want to be." Harry firmly stated, answering her previous question.
Narcissa's blue eyes stared into Harry's green ones.
"Are you?" Narcissa asked quietly, "Or are you here because you have no where else where you can go to to hide from everything around you? To run from everything around you?"
"I'm not running from anything."
Narcissa didn't say anything else to him. Actually, those were her last words of the night.
Well, apart from one last sentence before she disappeared from the room. One last simple sentence that kept Harry up all night.
"You're running from yourself."
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Please please review! They inspire me & motivate me to get the next chapter up faster. Haha. Thanks a lot for reading!