If I Lose Myself
by EMPG22HoPe

Chapter Four: Draco

October 1996

"Concentrate, Draco." Bellatrix hissed at him as she released her tight hold on his shirt. "I can see through the very crevice of your mind. The Dark Lord could see farther than that, and by Merlin, we certainly don't want that for you now, do we?"

"Bella, that's enough." Narcissa regarded coldly as she roughly shoved her sister aside, causing Bellatrix to nearly fall from where she stood. The dark-haired witch glared at her before huffing in disdain and walking over towards the unlit fireplace.

Draco attempted to catch his breath, but his head felt like it was being split in half by an axe and his entire body felt as though it was being weighed down by anvils. Any attempt to calm himself discerned to be quite futile. His eyes flitted across the room they've rented last minute in Hogsmeade. It was shabby and hardly worth the galleons they paid for, but he knew that he, his aunt and his mother weren't here on vacation. In fact, he often wondered since then if he'll ever be in one ever again. He wondered if his life will ever go back to normal.

"He's not trying hard enough, Cissy!" His aunt exclaimed as she pointed her wand towards the fireplace and with a few flicks, the dusty woods lit – causing the room to warm up in the slightest. "You say you want to protect your boy from the Dark Lord's mind when he's barely trying to block out a simple mind invasion. Occlumency isn't exactly the most difficult thing, really. It's like flicking your first wand; hardly any effort put into it. When I was his age, I could block out Dumbledore himself! He can't even block a wee bit of a mouse!"

"I said that's enough, Bella!" His mother's voice overpowered his aunt's this time. Bellatrix turned to glare at her sister, but his mother went on. "He's just a boy. He'll learn, like both of us have. The more you pressure him, the harder it is for him to listen to you! He's not one of your Death Eater students."

"Is he not?" Bellatrix shrieked as she moved dangerously close towards them. She took a hold of Draco's left arm and shoved the black sleeve of his coat up, revealing the dark mark that the Dark Lord had marked upon him before his father's court trial. He couldn't help but wince at the sight of it. The skull looked menacing, and the snake perpetuating out of it danced dangerously. For some reason, it's gotten darker in color by the months. "Is this not a Death Eater to you, Cissy?"

"He is your nephew, Bellatrix! I'd expect a tad bit of leniency towards your family." Narcissa moved forward and shoved the sleeve of his coat down. He knew his mother hated seeing that mark, having to have already seen the same thing on her husband before.

"Family?" His aunt scoffed indignantly as her eyes widened in disgust, staring right at him before sending a dangerous look towards his mother. She let go of his arm harshly before pointing her slightly bended wand towards the blonde woman. "You forget that I murdered our own cousin, Narcissa."

Draco looked away, finding it remarkably difficult to even continue listening to this conversation. While he never did quite fancy the blood traitor side of his mother's family (such as Sirius Black and Andromeda Tonks), family was still family. It was an ethics, an initial lesson he's learned as a child that one should never give up on family; no matter what grand idiocy they may come by. He's never truly known Sirius Black, having to be so far distant in the Black family tree. All he knew was that he was connected to a murderer, and he didn't pride himself in knowing that. But when he had found out that his aunt had killed her own cousin – he felt almost sick to the bone. He couldn't imagine killing his own cousin, blood traitor or not.

Narcissa's eyes bulged fearfully. But her fear dissipated when she shoved Bellatrix's wand out of the way then walked over towards the fire place. There was a small silence in the room before his mother finally spoke. "Surely you wouldn't murder my son."

"No, I wouldn't," Bellatrix answered almost instantly. He accidentally met his aunt's gaze and could have sworn he saw a flicker of concern in them. But her pupils dilated and her cold, harsh front resurfaced. "I'm doing this against the Dark Lord's wishes, Cissy. You know he wants nothing more than to check on Draco's progress on his mission. Be grateful he hasn't had the idea of doing so. And if I am to be found—"

"Then I suppose you'll have to keep your mouth shut while you're around him, then." His mother's clipped voice overlapped. She turned to look at him and his aunt, her eyes now glistening with tears. "Bella, please. I've lost Lucius. I cannot lose Draco as well. He's punishing us. Me. My son. I can't bear it. It would kill me."

"Then your ridiculous excuse for a husband should have thought better than to fail his own mission—"

"Don't you dare talk about my husband like that!" Narcissa finally drew out her wand, but to Draco's surprise, his aunt had lowered her own. "You could have helped him!"

"It was not my mission now, was it, Narcissa?!" Bellatrix fired back. "He should have bloody thought differently when he decided years ago to be a Death Eater—"

"That's enough!" To his surprise, Draco found his own voice as he rose from where he sat. His headache was now subsiding, though it had its troubles with the argument circulating within the room. And within that particular argument, he found a new purpose. He didn't exactly know where it came from, but it definitely had something to do with his father. He wanted him out of Azkaban perhaps a whole lot more than his mother did; and the only way to do that was to bloody master Occlumency and succeed in his own mission.

The two witches stared at him oddly, almost looking as if they've forgotten he was even in the room.

"I'm ready now." His tongue felt like lead as he said this, trailing his eyes towards Bellatrix.

"Draco, darling…" Narcissa's voice trailed off softly, wiping the harsh tears that were sliding down her cheeks.

Draco tried to ignore the vulnerability in his mother's voice and the ache to pull her in and hold her close as he did the night his father was sent to Azkaban. His voice sounded raspier now as he continued, "I think I can do it now, Aunt Bella."

Bellatrix's current sneer turned into a malicious smirk as she walked over to him and pushed him down onto the chair again. He held the arms of the chair tightly as soon as his aunt raised her bendy wand towards his forehead. A part of him was shaking horridly, fearful of how far his aunt would go down his mind. But another part of him was writhing in pride and excitement at his newly found purpose. He braced himself for the impact as his aunt yelled, "Legilimens!"

A sharp, most unbearable pain hit his head; spreading throughout his entire body as flashes of his memories unfolded.

His father teaching him how to ride a broom, his first vacation at the Canary's with his parents when he was fourteen, getting his first wand at Ollivander's, receiving constant candies and sweets from his mother every time he went back to Hogwarts, days of insulting Potter and succeeding gratefully, nearly catching the Snitch during Quidditch, his first kiss with Pansy Parkinson. Then suddenly, his memories shifted; it turned to the time he lost his first Quidditch match and being told off by Marcus Flint, being slapped by Granger so hard his head spun, being turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, seeing his father get dragged away from him by Aurors and dementors…

"I can practically see you as a fetus, Draco!" He overheard his aunt's voice through the harsh memories that were coming at him left and right. "Try harder!"

His hold on the chair's arms tightened as he closed his eyes, blocking out the memories – allowing himself to feel empty and unbidden, like a new person who hadn't had a single memory till' now. Slowly, the darkest memories began to subside, his lighter, more carefree moments overshadowing it. Though he tried to get rid of those, too, it seemed to awfully stay.

No, I don't need those. He said to himself crassly as he concentrated on emptying his mind into a blank slate.

The image of Astoria Greengrass, her nose as red as a reindeer's, laughing at his joke, offering her sweets and singing about them, flashed before him. Her soft green eyes staring right back at him was the last thing he saw before everything went completely dark. Oddly enough, the memory seemed to have left a trail scent of vanilla and roses.

Draco's body felt more relaxed now, his hold on the chair loosening as his mind floated into an abyss of darkness. He felt like he was in limbo, just swaying into the rhythm of nothingness. Though it wasn't a pleasant thing, emptiness; it did help get rid of the memories that his aunt was trying to penetrate. He was like this for several minutes, the voice of his aunt shrieking Legilimens over and over seemed like hills and mountains away from where he was now. Only at the sound of his mother's voice calling his name did he snap out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes to find that his mother was smiling now, the first real smile he's seen her have since… well, it's been a very long time now, actually. His aunt was sitting on one of the couches in the corner, shrieking with absolute delight and laughing mostly to herself as she sent sparks of green and silver onto the air.

"My, I certainly underestimated his having any guts at all. He's definitely far from his father in the guts department." Bellatrix laughed hysterically as she lolled her head to the side, now staring directly at him. "Well done, Draco. Though with a little more practice…"

"He's done splendidly enough." Narcissa said softly as she kneeled before him and took his hands in hers. "How do you feel, Draco?"

"I feel fine." He said in a small voice as he tried to massage the side of his head with the heel of his palm, getting rid of any excess pain from the practice. "I think I deserve a bit of butter beer after all that bloody madness."

"Surely, he does!" His aunt cackled maniacally as she rose from the couch and conjured three bottles of butter beer out of thin air. "Rosmerta won't mind if I steal a few bit from her cupboard now, would she?"

His mother took two of the floating butter beers and handed him one. He took a large swig of the sweet concoction, his whole body warming up impressively at the taste of cream and butterscotch on his tongue. He always did love butter beer, it was the best thing next to apples.

"I did, however, see a pretty little girl while penetrating your mind, Draco." Bellatrix drawled on teasingly, a menacing grin gracing her lips. "Who is she?"

"Oh, that's just Pansy," He shrugged it off as he took another drink from his bottle, remembering the memory of his first kiss with the girl. It wasn't a particularly important memory. In fact, the kiss was harbored out of curiosity. Everyone's been doing it, anyway – snogging, that is. He felt curious as to what it would feel like and Pansy just happened to be crazy head over heels for him at that time to do it with him.

"Oh, no, I know Parkinson. Shame what happened to her father, really." His aunt said before chugging down her own butter beer. "No, I meant the girl after that; the one with the pretty green eyes and an obviously contagious cold."

Draco nearly choked on his drink then pulled the lip of his bottle to the side. He tried to look anywhere but his aunt, but she seemed to follow the movement of his eyes and moved where they moved annoyingly. Bellatrix grinned at him darkly before shaking his head and looking down. "That's nobody. Just the little Greengrass girl. She's tutoring me in Potions."

"She wouldn't be a nobody if she shows up in your practice." Narcissa said a little worriedly, although he saw the tip of her lip rise just a bit, almost teasingly.

"Well, whoever she is, you better keep her out of the frame, then." Bellatrix said loudly as she finished her butter beer. "Love is a fickle and if the Dark Lord sees you involved or attached to anyone romantically, you best be sure he'll use them as leverage should you fail your mission to kill that oaf, Dumbledore. And you certainly don't want that innocent little girl in the hands of the Dark Lord now, do you, Draco?"

Horrible images of the Dark Lord taking Astoria hostage, marking her with the dark mark, hurting her with the Cruciatus curse flashed before his eyes. He didn't have any sort of attachment to her; hell, he hardly knew the first thing about her. But it would certainly kill him if the Dark Lord did anything to hurt Astoria. She's innocent, and he certainly doesn't want any more innocent lives getting tangled up in his own darkness.

He agreed to what his aunt said. He needed to get rid of Astoria Greengrass. Now.

Draco had just about spent his entire weekend looking for her. Well, that, and trying to repair the vanishing cabinet. But mostly, looking for the one person he'd least expect to find himself looking for. It was absolutely contradicting to what he'd originally planned on just bloody getting rid of the little witch.

His first week of tutoring with Astoria was nothing short of ordinary; in fact, the whole thing felt so normal that it became a habit of his to come down the Black Lake at exactly 1 o'clock since then. He had gotten to like the normality of just studying, of not having to worry about any task of murdering someone. It was a world completely far from the dark until he had to get up another day and realize he still had a vanishing cabinet to repair.

Now, he had to get rid of that one little normal thing out of his life, all because it showed up during his Occlumency lessons. It's not like he asked himself to show Astoria, but in the midst of all those horrifying memories – her face just came to him, and it made him feel ridiculously warm all over.

No. He bit his tongue to rid his thoughts of her. He hardly knew the girl. As if Astoria little Greengrass was going to be of any significance to him in the future. No, he thought to himself again as he walked into the Great Hall – but even as his head screamed no so many times that Monday morning, his eyes couldn't help but wander and try to find the young witch in a sea of less important ones.

At first, he thought he caught the sight of a familiar pair of green eyes in the Slytherin table – that is, until he realized they didn't belong to a particular dark-haired witch. The witch was blonde and about a few years older than the initial person he was looking for. But it was certainly better than nothing.

Daphne Greengrass laughed at something Blaise had said to her but stopped when she saw him walk over to where she sat. She graced a friendly smirk before saying, "Well, good morning, Draco. Slept well?"

"Like a rock," Draco replied plainly as he sat across Daphne. "Have you seen your sister?"

"Tori?" The blonde asked nonchalantly as she began examining her nails. "No, I haven't. Not since Friday, really. Why?"

"You don't know where your own sister is?" He asked rather dubiously.

"Oi, she ain't her sister's keeper, mate," Blaise went right in between bites of sausages and pancakes. "Why are you looking for little Greengrass anyway?"

"It's none of your concern, Zabini." Draco sighed tiredly as he took a bit of toast off the table and slathered it with raspberry jam. "I just have a few… er, lessons, to run by her."

"Ay, bloody hell," Blaise chortled all of a sudden. "So it's true, isn't it? This is a regular thing you've got going on now, huh?"

"Shove off, Blaise," He told off his friend heatedly as he took a bite of his toast. "This isn't a "regular" thing. In fact, I've come here to look for her so that we can stop the whole tutoring. I just think it's ridiculous."

"Well, if it's the tutoring thing you're so anxious about, there's Professor Slughorn," Daphne nodded towards the front of the Great Hall where said professor and a fair few of their teachers were having breakfast. Then she turned her gaze back at him. "Although from what I'm hearing from my sister, I'd say you're doing just fine with the tutoring. She says it's helping you a little bit. A bloody miracle, really. Especially after I heard that you were at each other's throat the first day you both started with it."

"It's a defense mechanism Draco has, luv," Blaise said after taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "He'll piss off anyone and if that person's still standing at the end of the day, you best believe he'll stop at nothing to get rid of that little smile on their faces."

"Thanks, Blaise." Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, knowing full well that the whole thing was a lie. Well, a bit of a white lie. He did like pissing people off, and he certainly wanted to get a row out of Astoria that time. It just so happened that he saw how pale she was, no doubt sick of fey fever or something. And he wasn't exactly that much of a monster to push a sick person's buttons. He turned to Daphne this time. "You sure you haven't seen her at all?"

Daphne smirked at him before taking a sip of tea. "Calm down, will you, Malfoy? She's just been in the dormitories all weekend, nursing that bloody fever of hers. She was sick the day she started to tutor you, remember?"

"Yeah, but she looked perfectly fine the day after that," He said a little defensively. "In fact, she's been fine all week since that day. You're not really telling me she's sick again?"

"She's really sickly, Draco," The blonde Greengrass shook her head in dismay. "She's been like this since she was eleven, you see? Mum and dad were worried when they found out. Astoria was hardly ever sick as a little girl and it's suspicious how she started getting very much so when she arrived at Hogwarts. The longest she's been sick was an entire month, and that was in her second year. Nearly missed finals because of it."

"What kind of sickly are we talking about here?" He asked suddenly, surprised by this new information he was getting. "Are we talking about St. Mungo's sick or bedridden sick?"

"She's usually just bedridden sick. She gets sick at least twice a month, thrice on winter months. It's baffling, really." Daphne said with a small voice as she picked at her food absent-mindedly. "But she'll be fine. In fact, I think she'll be up and about in the afternoon. She's a fighter that one. Can't imagine how her seemingly obscene temper could fit in such a small, fragile body like that."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle at the last sentence, remembering how surprised he was when Astoria tried to fight back. He simply couldn't frazzle her as easily as he would other people. Usually they'd run the other way, but she just plowed right through – unafraid; and he admired that about her.

The rest of the morning was a blur; he was hardly aware of the time that by the third bell he realized it was already lunch time. He ate his meal in haste, though he hovered just a bit to catch and see if Astoria had come in for lunch – but he never saw her small frame and licorice black hair in the crowd of students. His disappointment was baffling, but he tried to push it out of the way. He can't be giving a damn about some mangy little fourth year. Besides, wasn't he supposed to be getting rid of her so that she won't appear during his Occlumency lessons? For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely confused.

Since it was Monday, he didn't have any tutoring lessons with little Greengrass. Moreover because of the fact that most of his afternoon had been taken up by Potions class and he went into a wholly new abyss of it. He was starting to do just a tad bit better in class ever since he started getting tutored at it. He had always excelled outstandingly in his classes, though they weren't always out of interest. This year, however, he found himself falling short of a few due to the simple reminder of the mission the Dark Lord had set upon him. It made him sick, but he attempted to hide his discomfort. He didn't need Blaise, or even Pansy, bombarding him with questions of whether he was feeling well.

The whole afternoon was spent with Slughorn assisting them in creating a Wiggenwald Potion, which was, as he remembered, a potion that could heal someone from magically-induced sleep. He merely got the basic concept of it, but struggled a bit with the positioning of the salamander blood. By the fourth time that he had to add it, he dropped just a hint few more and instead of his potion turning pink, it turned an icky color of green.

"Ah, interesting color, Mr. Malfoy!" He jumped in surprise when Professor Slughorn spoke behind him. The balding man seemed to be checking his progress rather much closely than he could possibly hope not. "I see you've added one too many Salamander blood. A common mistake, my boy. Not to worry."

"Hold on," Draco grunted distractedly as he skimmed to the back of his book where he had kept the notes he had been writing during his tutoring with Astoria. There were about twenty notes, some written in his hurried handwriting and some in Astoria's elegant cursive. He rummaged through it efficiently until he found the one about the Wiggenwald. He quickly took his small bottle of Horklump juice and downed three drops into his potion. According to his notes, it would dilute the extra Salamander blood. And to his surprise, his potion turned the color pink as per the instructions.

"Ingenious!" Professor Slughorn said, his impressed tone catching the attention of a few students. "Very ingenious, indeed. Well, done, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for that quick recovery on the Salamander blood!"

Some of the Gryffindor students, Potter being one of them, looked at him curiously. Draco couldn't help but smirk at this as his fellow Slytherin classmates cheered briefly.

"I trust your lessons with Ms. Greengrass are going well, then?" Professor Slughorn asked, his voice at a volume meant for just the two of them.

"They are, actually," He admitted as he pumped up the heat of his potion, causing the color to change into a dark shade of red. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Professor."

"Is that so?" The professor asked interestedly as he leaned a hand against the table. "Do go on."

"I'm confident enough I can handle some of the classes this month, and in the next, really." He started as he added five lionfish spines into his cauldron. "What I mean is, I don't think I need any more of Astoria's tutoring. It would save us both the trouble, really."

"Oh, nonsense, my boy," Professor Slughorn said almost immediately. "It's not a year-long thing, but it's only been a week. And as far as I'm concerned, you're doing quite well since the tutoring. You're recovering from mistakes just as quickly as Granger is, and I believe if you keep up with it, you just might receive an Outstanding in my class. Besides, you haven't even practiced hands-on with Ms. Greengrass."

"I just feel that any more of the tutoring would be unnecessary." His voice was harder this time. He couldn't possibly tell the professor that the only reason he wanted to stop his tutoring with Astoria was because he needed to focus more on his Occlumency. Should he spend any more bloody time with her, he fears he might start dreaming about her – and he definitely didn't want any of that, not when the Dark Lord can penetrate his mind at any moment. Though he hasn't tried yet, Draco didn't doubt what the nose-less bastard might do. "She could be focusing more on her own potions classes, is all I'm saying."

"Ah, I knew there was a tinge of modesty in you, Mr. Malfoy," The professor nodded impressively. "But alas, I suggest you go on with the tutoring. It won't be long, really. If you pass your November exams, just well off before the holidays, we can stop it all. But until then, I expect a few more remarkable results."

Draco swore he was this close to strangling the old man, but he kept his cool and nodded his answer instead. It was worth a shot, really. Normally, he'd stomp his foot around, muttering how his father will hear about this and be the pompous ass he was, and commanding people to meet his demands. But to his surprise, he mentally accepted his fate, knowing full well that his father no longer had any power as a school governor due to his being Azkaban. To his surprise, he didn't feel the need to be demanding his requests approved. Merlin, was he this of a bloody git when he was younger?

Perhaps he'll just have to ace his November exams. He's often more resourceful than this, but he didn't really feel like picking at the loopholes right now. Ace the exams and you won't need to be tutored by little Greengrass. For some reason, he felt a little bit of relief. Although for what reason, he couldn't tell.

But he suspected it had something to do with spending more time with Astoria, and a slightly warm, almost calming feeling settled within him.

Bloody hell, this was going to be the death of him. Literally.