What Blaise discovered when he opened the door to Draco's room left him in shock. It was an appalling scene.
The mattress was covered in red. One would have thought that a tragedy had taken place in that room. A most horrific crime.
His best friend was curled up in the corner of the bed, his entire body shaking. Fresh bandages had been placed on his body, but all were bathed in blood. They did little to make the sight less sordid. Blaise wondered how Draco could still be alive.
It took him a few seconds to recover before he drew his wand and ran to his friend's side.
"Draco! Draco!" he exclaimed as he cleaned up the blood with spells. "Bloody hell, tell me you're still alive, mate."
Tears formed in his eyes, but he tried to keep them from flowing. He had to stay strong for Draco.
Blaise turned Draco's body to lie face down as carefully as he could so he could see the damage. His latest wounds had reopened. While some had healed, the fresh ones were still too sensitive to withstand any sudden movement.
He placed a hand on his jugular and waited silently to feel a pulse.
He could already imagine losing his best friend, only a few days after finding him. Finding wasn't the right word, given the state Draco had arrived in. Blaise hadn't been able to reconnect with him at all. He had merely noted his dreadful condition following years of confinement.
What if Draco died now? What if Blaise never had the chance to look him in the eye again? To tell him about his misadventures? To hear him laugh or see him smile?
It was unimaginable. He couldn't envision such an outcome.
After what seemed like an eternity, Blaise let out a long sigh of relief when he felt a beat, albeit a particularly weak one. Draco was alive, but in agony. He had to save him.
He was alive and that was all that mattered. No matter what he had to do to save him, Blaise would cling to every sign of life Draco gave him.
He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt – already partially stained with blood – and hurried to begin treatment, despite the little knowledge he had in the field. He would give everything.
He was sweating profusely. He had his best friend's life in his hands. His fingers trembled slightly, making the spells less effective, but that didn't stop him. He had to focus his magic and all his thoughts on Draco. He couldn't afford any distraction.
He was determined to save him and wouldn't stop until he was sure Draco was stable. He had no potions available and would have to make do with spells alone. That didn't make it easy, but he would give his life for Draco; this little effort was worth nothing in the face of that.
Half an hour later, Draco's breathing and heart rate were regular. His condition was stable, his wounds were almost completely healed and his skin was no longer as pale. Blaise dropped his wand and fell onto the mattress beside him, letting out a sigh of relief.
He couldn't bear to lose him. Not after everything they'd been through together. Draco didn't deserve such a tragic fate. He deserved much better, much more.
They had grown up together. Blaise didn't remember meeting him because they had been so young at the time. Draco was his best friend, his brother from another mother.
And that was the way it should be. Blaise's mother hadn't been around much, so Narcissa had been one of the most supportive people in his life. He had spent most of his childhood at Malfoy Manor.
He had never liked Lucius, not least for the supremacist mentality he had taught his son. Fortunately for him, Blaise had escaped it. Not to mention his coldness towards his wife. He had never seen Lucius be physically violent. He had realised over the years how violent he was psychologically. He had indoctrinated his son throughout his childhood, preventing Narcissa from intervening in Draco's education, forbidding her to contradict him.
Blaise had escaped all this; the Malfoy couple were not so interested in him as to educate him as they did their son. He wasn't the Malfoy heir, and that was fine.
Blaise knew that Draco had been able to make his own identity later, when he was old enough and mature enough to differentiate his reality from his parents'. Blaise had supported him, knowing full well that separating himself from his parents' values wasn't an easy task.
Although she hadn't been much of a part of his son's education, Blaise wasn't so naïve as to think that Narcissa had values similar to his own. She hadn't become friends with muggles to defy her husband or her upbringing. She remained a proud devotee of pureblood superiority, but at least she didn't want to exterminate the muggle-borns, which was–good enough, Blaise repeated to himself.
He had sometimes almost fallen into the worship of this ideology. When he was a boy, when his only friend was Draco and he wanted to make more friends in Slytherin or among the children of other pureblood families, he had had little choice but to appear to agree with these supremacists and their repressive values. What wouldn't one do to gain the trust and friendship of those around him?
Blaise had quickly moved past blood supremacy and matured long before his best friend. He had distanced himself from the Malfoys, keeping in touch with them at meals several times a year.
It wasn't until they were thirteen that Draco had explained to Blaise that his parents had an arranged marriage, which had answered many of his questions. Narcissa had no say in the matter; Lucius had all the power over her, her life, her death and her freedom.
Her only purpose was to sire an heir, who would then receive the perfect education to ensure the continuation of the Malfoy family line. It made Blaise want to vomit. He'd never been able to stand the idea, no matter how much he disagreed with Narcissa Malfoy growing up. She didn't deserve that. Nobody deserved that.
Blaise had had no tutor, but quietly attended Draco's classes, hiding behind doors or curtains whenever he stayed at the manor. Manners, etiquette, Latin, Greek, Italian and French, equestrianism, broom flying, duelling… He'd been able to attend classes he never would have had access to without the Malfoys. In a way, he was grateful to them. He had been able to educate himself without it being an obligation, or even affecting his perception of the world. He had educated himself, sorting out the information he received.
His mother hadn't wanted him. She had become pregnant after her second marriage and had made her son regret being born in his first days of life. He hadn't been abused per se, but he hadn't received the love and education he needed. Having no example of what a close-knit, loving family could look like, he had never resented it. The Malfoys were far from being that, even if Narcissa did show her son the occasional discreet sign of affection.
Blaise's father had died in mysterious circumstances two months after he was born. He had never wanted or needed to know more about him. He would rather not have a father than risk being raised by a man like Lucius Malfoy.
He had been taken on every trip his mother took, sometimes for months at a time, which meant he couldn't see the Malfoys, even after he started at Hogwarts. He accompanied her every summer to different countries, often in the company of her husband of the moment.
When the war broke out, he had followed her for a whole year. They had lived in North Africa, then in Turkey. And when Pansy had begged him to join her at Hogwarts, he had jumped at the chance, finally of age to run away. He hadn't seen his mother since and that was fine by him.
Pansy had been a great support, too. They had met at Hogwarts, initially through Draco, who had lured her into his net with his "legendary charm", as he liked to boast at the time. She was completely in love with him at the time, ready to do anything to satisfy him and to be the only one on his mind. It seemed so long ago…
A small group had formed in their first year: Pansy, Blaise, Draco, Goyle, Crabbe. They had also met Daphne and Theo at the beginning of the school year, and they became close friends. Millicent Bulstrode had been part of their little group for the first few years, but she had soon drifted, or been distanced by Pansy, after her weight gain. In those days, open-mindedness was rare and surface level judgments were frequent.
The others had been inseparable, terrors to any other Slytherin trying to get in their way. The kings and queens of their house.
Draco and Blaise got on particularly well with Theo and the three had quickly become inseparable. Goyle and Crabbe had soon found themselves on the sidelines, not fitting in with the trio. They stayed close to Draco, at their fathers' insistence, but that was as far as it went.
Pansy had finally grown tired of Draco when she realised that he was only interested in her as a friend. Blaise still remembered perfectly how cold their friendship had been for a few months. Daphne and Pansy stayed in their corner and the boys in theirs. He had hated it.
Pansy had waited until their sixth year to take an interest in Blaise. If at first it hadn't been mutual, he'd eventually succumbed to her charm as he had watched her grow up and become more mature and intelligent. They had fallen into each other's arms, realising what they had missed in previous years. They were much more alike than they had thought.
Blaise had asked her to marry him a week after the Death Eater trials had ended and she had accepted without any doubt in her eyes. It was an obvious choice.
Blaise could say without hesitation that he had the best family he could have dreamed of. A woman he could call on at any moment and whom he loved more than anything else in the world, and loyal friends who had known him most their lives.
There was movement to his right and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.
Draco was waking, he could tell by the almost imperceptible movements of his fingers. So his spells had worked. He had managed to get him back on his feet.
A rush of relief went through him, like a bucket of fresh water in the middle of the desert. Draco was alive.
The blond fluttered his eyelids and frowned as he faced the light in the room. Blaise sat up on the bed.
"Hi, mate," he whispered uncertainly.
Last time, Draco had been unable to answer him. He had to drag him back to Hermione, after taking a portkey with him, so that the English delegation could do their work. He couldn't even hold it together. Blaise wanted to erase that horrible memory from his mind. Just thinking about it broke his heart. He had no idea if Draco remembered, as he had seemed so miserable.
He'd even gone back to Azkaban to retrieve all of Draco's personal belongings, after realising that the blond would be unable to do so on his own. After all, he had wanted to get him out of the prison as quickly as possible, forgetting about his friend's possessions they were leaving behind.
The wardens had seemed particularly unpleasant and off-putting, but he hadn't reacted. He didn't want to get into trouble. He would deal with them later, he promised himself.
His main concern was to help Draco get his feet back on the ground after all those years confined to Azkaban.
Draco turned his head to look around, before focusing his gaze back on Blaise. He looked lost, confused, as if he had no idea where he was. Perhaps he did.
"We're at Granger's in France. You're safe here," Blaise told him in a low voice.
He had no idea how to behave with Draco. Should he be cautious? Act normal? Comfort him? He had never done that. No one had ever done that.
Draco nodded slowly, assimilating his surroundings. He then observed his bandages and hands, then palmed his face.
"She called us when you woke," Blaise explained as he got out of bed to face him.
He took the opportunity to conjure up a magic bidet in the corner of the room. An idea from Pansy. Without knowing when the blond would be able to be autonomous it was the only way he could relieve himself without having to move.
He then conjured up a chair and sat down. He realised he didn't know what had happened before Granger had called them. She'd sounded so panicked… They'd come as quickly as they could, without needing more explanation. This was about Draco, he didn't need to know any more.
Blaise had found his best friend in a terrible state. He still couldn't believe it.
Draco seemed more disturbed than anything. He was as dumb as a Fwooper and kept looking at himself from every angle. Blaise swallowed. Draco seemed neither willing nor able to speak. Had he even heard him? Blaise wasn't sure.
He tried to put himself in Draco's shoes, to understand his condition. But it was too difficult. How could he even imagine what he had experienced? He couldn't know what state of mind he was in.
He would have to talk to Granger to understand what had happened. Perhaps that would be useful to him in helping Draco. He doubted Draco would remember anything. He was shaking slightly, as if panicked.
Blaise walked over to the bedroom window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. He didn't know what to do. Granger's condition was frightening and Draco's wasn't much better. He felt like he was at a dead end, unable to make a choice. How was he supposed to make one? What right did he have to choose for Draco, to decide his life?
As he was about to turn to his friend, he saw his wife coming across the garden from the window. She seemed to be coming from the stables, alone.
He imagined that she must have been looking after Granger, to no avail. Again. No one could bring her to her senses, make her understand that she was digging her grave. Even Potter had finally given up, rarely visiting her. Blaise doubted it would get any better now that Theo was free.
He ran a hand over his face and turned to Draco. He was embarrassed. He didn't feel comfortable. Things had changed. The air was thick.
Draco stared blankly at the door. He looked barely alive, as if his soul had been taken from him, although there were no dementors living in the prison.
"I've brought your things back. They're downstairs," Blaise said over the silence of the room. "There's your wand, some clothes, a pair of shoes and the key to your safe at Gringotts. It's all in a bag I left by the fireplace."
Draco didn't react for several seconds, so Blaise was about to leave the room. Eventually Draco nodded and looked into his friend's eyes.
Blaise thought he would faint. There were so many conflicting emotions in his eyes. If a few minutes before they had looked empty, now they seemed to be full of life.
He could read anger, relief, gratitude, but also a form of determination. It was so strong.
He didn't know how to interpret it all. It was too vague.
He thought of the news he would have to tell him one day, the news that would likely destroy his friend's heart, but preferred to put it away in a corner of his mind. This wasn't the time. He wasn't even sure he would get his full attention now. It would only make things worse. He had to wait.
Draco looked away after a few seconds, focusing on the door. He was gone again, far away in his mind.
Blaise would have given a lot to know what was going on there, to understand his torment.
He cleared his throat. "I–I'll join the others."
Draco didn't turn his head towards him, nor did he answer or react. Blaise sighed quietly and left the room. He felt like he had lost his best friend.
oOo
"Potter,
Although I hate to do this, I feel I have no other choice. Blaise and I visited Granger and Draco yesterday and I have to admit I don't know what to do.
Granger is destroyed, she's not well and I really wonder how she'll get out of it if she stays shut up like this. She jumps at the slightest noise, the slightest movement, and can't stand the presence of anyone in her house.
She called us, in a panic, wanting us to take Draco back.
I don't know what to do, Potter. I've had a chat with her and she hardly seems inclined to make any effort. She's closed to the idea of being helped.
She and I aren't close, I'm not in the best position to help her or change her mind. I really think you should go and talk to her. She's not going to expel Draco – I've made it clear to her that it's impossible anyway – but she's not going to get involved with him. I think that's a bad thing. For her, and for him.
I'm aware that you and Theo are reconnecting and making up for lost time, but I think it's urgent that we do something.
Draco arrived in a frightening state from Azkaban and he will need help too. If Granger spends all her time pushing him away, regardless of their shared past, and getting defensive in his presence, while dragging him down because of her behaviour, things will get worse.
I can go with you, if you want, or stay with Theo at your place if you don't want to leave him alone, but I think we need to do something to help them. Both of us.
Blaise spends his time going back and forth between our house and the Ministry, trying to make things change. He wants to improve the quality of life of the prisoners, but also the conditions of release for the Death Eaters. I don't think he'll give up until he's satisfied, and I'm not going to push him to do it to help Draco, Granger or even Theo. It's up to us. I know you won't give up on Granger, regardless of your current relationship.
We also have to cover their asses. Draco hasn't heard about his mother's death yet, and Blaise and I are well aware that this will be a turning point in his behaviour. The longer we wait to tell him, the worse the consequences will be.
Also, although I know you aren't close to her, Daphne is at her lowest ebb these days. After the release of some prisoners, her condition has deteriorated greatly and I fear she may do something stupid. I visit her daily, but I'm afraid that's not enough. I will try to contact her sister, but because she travels a lot, I don't know when, or if, she will agree to go back to England.
I'll come by with Blaise soon to see Theo. We can discuss all this, if you wish.
I hope you understand my situation.
Pansy Z."
Pansy placed her quill on her desk and folded the parchment of the letter in three. She would send it later in the morning.
She took out another piece of parchment and dipped the tip of her quill into her small ink pot.
"Astoria,
I hope your travels are going well. According to your last letter, you were in Iceland, weren't you? A beautiful country from your descriptions. I would love to go there one day, perhaps you can recommend some places to visit?
How is Weasley n°7? Still no wedding date set? Do you plan to stay engaged forever?
Well, that's not why I'm contacting you, as you can imagine.
I don't know if you and Daphne have kept in touch over the last few months. I know that after the law was passed she cut off many of her friends and family, but I think it's important that I talk to you about her.
I visit her almost daily and I must confess to being concerned about her. I'm not close enough to your father to contact him and talk to him about it, especially, as I know, she's on the outs with him, so I thought you'd be the best person to hear what I have to say.
She sleeps very little, has lost a lot of weight and spends her days writing letters to Gregory. Her flat is a mess and although I try to tidy when I visit, she always ends up messing it up again.
But what worries me most is what I found in her bathroom a few days ago. She is collecting bottles of painkiller potion in one of her cupboards, which she gets prescribed by a Healer at St. Mungo's. I don't know what she's going to do with them, but my guess isn't very good. I'll leave you to imagine.
I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried several times to get her to see a psychologist, or at least to talk to her regular healer, but she just says she'll be better when Greg gets here.
I feel like she has lost her mind and doesn't realise that he won't be released for another ten years or so. Blaise is trying to find a way for her to get mail to him, but the Wizengamot is resisting. I'm afraid that won't be possible for several years.
But will she last until then?
I know you're travelling and you wanted to get away from it all, but Astoria, I'm scared for her. I really am.
Blaise and I can welcome you and Weasley if you don't want to stay with your parents. It might be a good opportunity for her to go and see Granger too, or even Potter? And for you to see Theo and Draco again?
I don't have any other solutions, Astoria, you're my only chance to help her out of this.
Please accept my love and I hope you understand my position,
Pansy."
She dropped her quill and clutched her head in her hands. She was exhausted and lost. She had been struggling for so many years for the sake of her friends that she sometimes wondered how she still managed to fight after so many failures.
She sealed the two letters with wax and left her office. Blaise wouldn't be back until nightfall, which meant she had the day to herself.
Pansy gave the letters to her owl, which flew away immediately, before putting on her coat to visit Daphne. She promised herself a long bath when she got home. She deserved it.
And that's it!
See you on Monday 11/21for the next chapter!
Thanks to Acciobraincells, f1dget, habon and kreimal for their
Don't forget to leave comments and follow the story to support me ;)