Chapter 23
"It's all Just Conjecture and Gloom"
Sunday night to Tuesday morning (Trials coming Friday)
Song of the Chapter is Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths
Beginning Note: This chapter has a graphically depicted suicide of a minor character and discussion of the post suicide reaction of students and staff. Draco continues to struggle with suicidal ideation.
The 988 Suicide Crisis Lifeline is a United States-based suicide prevention network of over 200 crisis centers that provides 24/7 service via a toll-free hotline with the number 9-8-8.
Please take care of yourself.
End Note: Casting Avada Kedavra on oneself comes from "You Have To Mean It" by Aneiria, which is a brilliant, if tragic fic.
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"I just don't understand how branding and scarring can be your limits," Hermione waved her hands airily, "isn't there anything less severe that you don't like?"
"Well I'm not interested in cock and ball torture, but I assume that that is not what you mean," Theo smiled knowingly and started listing sex acts as he counted on his fingers, "I like all the sexual penetration, giving and receiving, oral sex, yes please. Blow jobs and eating cunt, again giving and receiving. Ooh, although I don't have a cunt, I wouldn't mind having one for an afternoon if I could find a charm or potion though." He tapped at his lip thoughtfully.
"Cum play is a lovely time. I loved pegging. Spanking, whipping, paddling all great, though Pansy is the only one I let do that to me. Restraints are fantastic. Blindfolds. A good slap from Pans right as I'm close to cumming is often enough to send me right over the edge. Bloodplay is my other favourite, but again that's only something I'd do with Pansy. Nothing quite like the splatter and drip of my own red blood as I finish. Oh, I suppose I am not really interested in urine play. The smell of piss doesn't do anything for me personally, but to each their own. I never need to list that one to Pans though because it's one of her icks." Pansy shuddered in revulsion at his comments.
"It's filthy. And not in a sexy way." Pansy said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers, as Theo seemed to show no signs of stopping.
"I love to edge lovers and to be edged. I love temporary marking. Biting, sucking a bruise, etcetera. I deeply enjoy someone remembering that I was there and any other lovers to see the evidence of my presence, not in a weird possessive way, but more in an exhibitionist way. Exhibitionism is something I would love to explore, but haven't had any partners particularly keen on it up until Draco. I'd like to try public sex, my options there have been somewhat limited. Hogwarts has been a bit restrictive on my sex life. I like role play, sex in the shower." Draco blushed at that comment, hiding his pinkened cheeks against Theo's thigh and so did Hermione, as she remembered listening to the two of them in the bathroom.
It seemed like years ago. They had all been strangers then, Hermione thought. What were they now? Friends? More than friends?
"I haven't had nearly enough bathtub sex. I do love it when Pans chokes me and I am willing to choke a lover to heighten their orgasm if they want me to, but it's not something that I'd seek out for myself mind you. I do like vibration, toys, cock rings, but we lost all those when the Aurors confiscated Pansy's toy bag." His mournful sigh made Hermione giggle against him.
"And a sad day that was too," Pansy added, sipping her wine and massaging Hermione's head with the other.
"A tragedy of Greek proportions," Theo agreed, "I suppose I'm not particularly turned on by…feet? I mean they are darling and all and without them everyone would have a very challenging time walking, but I'm not interested in having my cock touched by feet or sucking on toes or the like. If Pansy told me to do it, however, it's not something I would use my safeword over, if that makes any sense."
Hermione wracked her brain for what that meant, it had been in one of the books from Cordelia, "Safeword ends the sex?"
"Or if its not sex precisely, then using the safe word ends the play session or stops a particular activity," Pansy corrected.
"Really, for the most part, things should get negotiated in advance. We've been frighteningly lax with that lately," Theo hummed as he finished his firewhisky and levitated the bottle over from across the room so that he could refill his glass. He refilled both Hermione and Draco's glasses before sending the bottle floating back across the room. "And we shouldn't drink and play, but," Theo sighed, "I'm not perfect. I don't pretend to be, but if I ever do anything any of you don't like I hope that you would tell me immediately in the moment and not let it fester. I would never willingly do anything without someone's consent, although I can lose myself in the moment on occasion."
Pansy laughed knowingly at that, "Let's not forget your oh so active caregiver kink, Theo. You really love taking care of others. It's why you obsess about aftercare and making sure it's just right."
Theo kissed Pansy lightly on the cheek nearest him. "That's true, but no one ever complains about a little spoiling after play."
"I've got dozens more limits than Theo," Pansy shared, "Penetrative sex as the receiver is a hard limit for me. I'm only the Domme, never a sub or a switch, unlike Theo who is able to change roles. So no spanking or choking of me, ever. I'm a bit of a sadist, I like to cause pain. I especially love the blood play, which is one of the reasons that Theo and I work so well together. Theo wants to bleed and suffer and I want to do it to him. I'm not interested in body fluids other than blood and cum. Although spit can have its uses. I definitely prefer women, but there are plenty of things that Theo and Draco can do tolerably well, even if I'm not interested in their substantial appendages. It's fun to watch as they use them with each other or you Mi." Pansy hummed contentedly. "Dressing up gives me a lot of sexual pleasure. My thigh high boots, my leather pants, my corsets. All of it builds my confidence; it puts me in Domme Pansy headspace and makes me feel powerful, so of course it gets me completely soaking wet. I'd love to find a potion to have a working cock for an afternoon, because pegging or just giving a good hard fuck with my strap-on was positively delicious. It's definitely a favourite that I'm missing. I'm not interested in blow jobs and I have touched a cock, Theo's, but I usually prefer to tell him to touch it himself. I considered myself a lesbian for a long time, but obviously with everything," Pansy gestured with her wine glass, "I need to rethink that, but …most of my aversions still align with that. I have a safeword, but I've never used it because me being the Domme is non-negotiable."
"What's your safeword?" Hermione asked, thinking that Pansy had told her before, but unsure.
"Betrothal or sometimes Chardonnay," Pansy drank her red wine, "it's the most horrendous vintage. If you ever hear me ask for it, you know something is terribly wrong. On second thought, the latter is more like a code that I have been kidnapped."
"Mine was thestral for ages," Theo shared, "but now it's Snape. While Pansy is a sadist, I am generally more of a pleasure Dom when I top. I want to torture my subs with orgasms. I want to see them cum until they can't take anymore and then still pull one more out of them."
The whole candid discussion had Hermione's cheeks turning rosy, but now she was imagining Theo taking control of her body like that and her knickers were soaked. She looked down where Draco sat on the floor and could see the telltale bulge between his legs. It seemed he wasn't immune to this conversation either.
"What's your safeword, Draco?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, it's Nagini. I was just using the word red, but the possibility of actually needing to say red with someone like you made me think of something else."
"Someone like me?"
"A Gryffindor," Draco supplied.
"Hmmmm, I guess I need to think of a safeword for myself," Hermione mused, leaning her cheek against her hand.
"It needs to be something you would never say by accident." Pansy pointed out. "And something I could recognize if you were trying to say it with a gag in your mouth, although there is a tap code if you need a gag out. Wait, are you interested in being gagged? I might be skipping some discussion steps."
Hermione tried to imagine having a gag in her mouth, being unable to speak as the other three of them had their wicked way with her. "Would my hands be restrained at the same time?" Hermione asked, the breathless quality of her voice not lost on Theo and Pansy who both grinned at her.
"If that's something you'd like to try, Mi," Pansy smiled, "then it would be my joy to facilitate it."
On the floor, Draco chuckled.
"What about you, Draco?" Theo asked, not missing the blond's own response. "Would you like to be gagged?"
"I don't think I'd like a gag in my mouth, but I certainly don't mind gagging on your cock." Draco smiled up at Theo, his platinum locks falling in his eyes as the young man looked up into Theo's ocean eyes. Theo ran a hand over Draco's cheek in an adoring caress. Hermione was even more aroused by the heat between the two of them. It wasn't just the apparent lust, the way that they adored each other was obvious too. Hermione wondered if anyone would ever feel about her the way that Draco and Theo felt about one another. She sighed softly and put her head on Pansy's shoulder. The other girl stroked her back softly, fingertips instead of sharpened nails. Pansy always seemed to know exactly what Hermione needed, it was really lovely. There was something about getting affection from another girl that was deeply satisfying.
"What else?" Theo whispered huskily, still looking down into Draco's face. "What else do you like or want to try?"
Draco looked away and took a sip of his firewhisky to make an excuse for his breaking of eye contact with Theo. "There's nothing we have done that I haven't liked. Getting tied up, the blindfold, the sex, especially what we did yesterday. That felt so bloody good. Could," Draco coughed, "could I do that to you some time? Would," cough, "you like that?"
Theo hummed in pleasure at Draco's question. "It's been a while for me, but yes, we could do that. I'd love buggering you again, you felt so fucking good around my cock, Drake."
Draco nodded, seriously as though they were discussing business for a second and then he seemed to shake himself and the vibrancy came back to his eyes.
"Draco," Theo growled warningly, "No occlumency remember."
"I know, I know, it's just hard to be vulnerable like this." Draco sat his drink down and turned so that he had Theo's thighs gripped in his hands. "I don't want to be hurt. I don't mind a little soreness. It's okay when you bite me to make me bleed a little but I don't want to bleed a ton or be black and blue. A little spanking is okay, but I preferred the…what did you call it? Sensory play? Remember? The gloves and the fur and–" Draco trailed off the blush tingeing his pale cheeks.
Theo ran his thumb across Draco's jaw. "Liked that, did you?"
"Very much." Draco smiled adoringly towards the other wizard, "Everything in my life just has hurt for so long, I just…"
"Want some comfort?" Hermione asked when Draco faltered and was rewarded with those warm quicksilver eyes on her and a small smile on his lips.
"Exactly, Granger." Draco's eyes traced the curves of her face and rested on her lips, causing Hermione to again be aware of how wet this conversation was making her. "I think I'd like to have control over something or someone else a bit."
"Oh, would you, pet?" Pansy purred, stroking Hermione's hair. "Well I think Mi might be amenable. Wouldn't you, darling?"
Hermione sputtered a number of noises, none of them anything like words and drank deeply from her firewhisky, swallowing her embarrassment. The idea of Draco controlling her, possessing her the way that Theo did when he touched her had her nipples hardening and her pussy fluttering around emptiness.
Pansy's tinkling laughter drew her back. "Well Draco, you'd rather not have pain. Any other limits you want to share?"
"I don't want anyone else to touch me like that, other than you three."
"So no inviting Blaise and Luna to play?" Theo asked.
Draco's eyes hardened and narrowed as he shot a glare towards Theo, "And nor are you going to play with them, Theodore! Or anyone else for that matter!" Draco's eyes flashed molten silver.
"So possessive." Theo purred, failing to notice that Hermione's jaw was just as clenched as Draco's.
She tried and failed to shake the jealousy off. She had to remember, she couldn't control these snakes she'd fallen into bed with. They remained their own people and this wasn't even a relationship really. Right? She couldn't be dictating anything. Draco and Theo, though, their relationship was something solid, but her time with them was fleeting. If she was lucky, it would continue after the school year started, but maybe they would be bored of her by then.
"Well you only have to put up with me for another few days and then I will be off in Azkaban, so I think you can keep your cock in your trousers until then." Draco nearly snapped, turning his face away from Theo while gulping down his drink.
Theo gripped Draco's face between his thumb and pointer finger, his face a mask of rage. "Don't fucking say that, you aren't going anywhere. I won't let you just give up."
Draco didn't try to shake Theo's hand off, but his eyes looked bright with unshed tears. "You know as well as I do that there is nothing either of us can do. I'm a Malfoy and I am going to have to pay for what my father did, what I did for the Dark Lord. "
"You were forced into everything you did and I'm going to prove it. The Wizengamot will have no doubts as to how much of a victim you were after that trial." Theo shook off his anger and took a drink, his mask falling back into place.
"How about you, Hermione?" He asked, changing the subject. "Any hard limits or things you would like to try?"
Hermione laughed internally at Theo's ability to hide how he was feeling so easily. She reached out and stroked his forearm, trying to give comfort to him through her touch.
He subtly shifted closer to her, trying to be nearer to the comfort that she was giving. Pansy, on Hermione's other side, stretched languorously like a cat and got up to refill her wine glass without levitating the bottle. Her reluctance to use magic meant she would likely need a Sober Up before they all piled into Theo's magically expanded bed.
Hermione bit her lip, "I didn't really care for edging and I'm like Draco. A little spanking, a paddle or maybe even a light flick of the riding crop could be okay, but I don't want to be covered in welts, blisters or blood. But I do like my hair pulled and I fantasise about being choked, so I'd like to explore that." She swallowed her drink for some extra bravery. "I liked shagging Theo and Draco at the same time, but is there a way for the four of us to all…play together at the same time. Or for everyone to play with me?" Hermione rolled her glass between her hands and could feel the blush rising up on her cheeks.
Hermione looked up and met Pansy's dark eyes and saw the slight tremor in her hand that held her wine glass. "Yes, Mi, I think we could arrange something like that, but not tonight. I think I've had too much to drink." Pansy sat her glass down and Draco was up like a shot, holding her elbow. Theo too was running to get a sober up potion from the bedroom. He had the vial at her lips in seconds.
"There you go, love," Theo whispered. "Why did you drink so much?"
"I'm sorry." Pansy murmured, still gripping his shoulders, "I guess I lost track of the bottles." Theo kissed her on the temple and took her other elbow. Hermione sat shocked as the two boys led the raven haired witch into the bedroom.
She finished her firewhisky in one long drink, realising that Pansy hadn't drunk even half of what she and the boys had been putting away. Did she? Did she need to be concerned about her drinking? Hermione thought that she was drinking a lot less now than she had been at the Burrow, but obviously her tolerance was still really high if she was drinking Pansy under the table and barely felt a buzz.
She reached over and refilled her glass because actually being a little drunk by the time that she went to sleep meant that the nightmares would be held at bay, at least a little. And even if she was worried, she still needed a good night's sleep. There were still a few more days of therapy in the group and she wanted to try to get the most out of them. She knew that this work she had been doing was helping her, it really was. Collapsing in a cuddle puddle with three of the fittest people she'd ever seen didn't hurt either.
Theo and Draco came back out after a few minutes, joining her on the couch. Theo easily pulled her onto his lap before Draco refilled his glass and then pulled Hermione's feet into his lap, slipping her little Mary Janes off so that he could massage the arches of her feet. Hermione made little purring noises and basked in the attention for a few minutes, before asking in a soft voice if Pansy was alright. Even in her relaxed state, her mind still wandered to the raven haired witch.
"She just overdid it. I got her to drink some water and we got some potions into her. She may have a headache tomorrow, but otherwise she will be fine."
Hermione nodded as her own head began to feel fuzzy and tired. Her body relaxed into the boys until she slowly melted into sleep. Their scents of cedar, mint, fire whiskey and smoke pulling her down into cosy oblivion.
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Cordelia had spoken with each of her group members individually this morning, discussing the imminent end of the program and how each of them were feeling about returning to the world at large. She'd assigned all of them to write in their journals about the same topic as she circled around.
Draco almost lapsed into occlumency when faced with her kind and supportive face. She just put her hand on his shoulder and he felt his attempt to erect walls around himself crumble.
"It's going to be okay Draco," Cordelia said reassuringly.
"But how do you know that it's going to be okay?"
"Because you deserve a future and there are alot of people in your corner. More than you know."
Draco tried to feel reassured but for the first time he wondered if Cordelia was just blowing cauldron steam up his robes. How could she possibly know that it was going to be okay?
Insubstantial platitudes. Draco felt anger bubbling up inside of him and he wanted to lash out, to occlude, to run far away where no one could find him. His fingers squeezed his thighs until his nails drew blood through his trousers. His self-hate felt like a poison that he had swallowed and it roiled in his stomach, painful and bitter.
Theo wrote in his journal as Cordelia worked her way around to him and he felt overwhelmingly sad and bitter and worried that he wasn't doing enough to keep Draco from spending the rest of his life in Azkaban.
Why must my life only be interludes of pleasure in a sea of pain? Nothing has ever come easy to me. Not love, not family, not happiness. Here I am with the real possibility of a family, of happiness and love. And all I can feel is the wrenching winds of fate trying to tear it all apart. What have I done in this life or another to deserve this torment? If we lose Draco and Pansy, Hermione and I will have each other, but will the loss of the other half of the magic we've made be too much to bear? I refuse to consider that we will lose Pansy and Draco to the mistakes of our fathers. I will burn the world if I have to.
Hermione chewed the tip of her quill and felt her inner turmoil roil in her stomach. She felt as though she might be sick. She began to write anyway.
I dread seeing Ron and Harry again. Harry is supposed to be testifying for Draco at his trial. Would he be doing it if he knew what Draco and I have been up to this summer? I feel like the answer is an overwhelming no. Is what's happening with Draco ….and Theo… and Pansy going to melt away even if Pansy and Draco don't go to Azkaban? I knew that this whole situation was finite from the very beginning, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. I knew it couldn't go on forever no matter what I might wish. Is forever what I want? How can this be my future? How can I survive if it isn't?
Pansy tapped her quill on her lips staring at some invisible point off in the distance and started scratching away at the parchment bound into her journal.
I'm obviously not better yet, because it still is impossible to plan for the future. I can't see further than Friday. Maybe I will go to Azkaban, maybe I won't. Draco will probably go to Azkaban. It's like a nightmare. Our fathers are still ruining our lives. I finally found a woman I really care about who seems to be okay with what Theo and I have and I might have to spend the next year in Azkaban, instead of learning a thousand ways to make her cum on my hand or my tongue. I'm a Slytherin and a witch, the world is set against me. So it should be no surprise that I'm getting a taste of happiness only to have it torn asunder. Once Friday happens, then I can think about Saturday.
Draco desperately tried not to occlude. He missed the ability to shut down all the emotions raging inside of him. He felt like there was a storm inside of him. It was going to tear him into pieces. It was a false comfort that he only needed to keep himself from breaking apart for only a few days more. He considered for the hundredth time ending his own life prior to the trial, but looked up and saw Theo looking at him with his bottomless blue eyes. Draco tried to shove those dark thoughts away.
I wish I had the faith that Theo has in the justice that I will receive at the hands of the Wizengamot. I expect to be nothing more than a tool for their vengeance. One more way to shed Malfoy blood on the altar of the Ministry. This program ends Thursday and then it's likely mere hours after that I will be tried, found guilty, and transported to the pit of despair that is Azkaban. I worry that I will forget the warmth of Theo's smile, the feel of his teeth on my skin, Granger's clever voice when she knows the answer, her moans as she cums, and the sparkle in Pansy's eyes as she orders me around. And once those memories have been taken from me, there will be nothing more to live for. It doesn't matter if I get five years or ten, the reality is that prisoners rarely come out alive or sane. Nearly never both. I wish I had a time-turner so that the next few days could last months, but that would still not be long enough.
Luna felt very calm. She knew with utter surety where her life was headed and she wanted to carve forward on the path that she had set for herself.
I am looking forward to the look of shock on the prosecution's face Friday when I provide my testimony. I imagine I will make the paper. I doubt my father will be pleased, but I will deal with that burning bridge as it collapses.
Blaise watched Luna write for a moment, bewitched by the enchanting look on her face before he started to write himself. The way that she moved as she wrote lit the fire in his blood and he wished that he had finished what they had started in the corridor last night. He should have brought her to his room in the dungeon. Perhaps tonight.
The moment this program is over, I am rushing to Italy to see why my mother hasn't contacted me for nearly four weeks. We have never gone this long without speaking and I am going mad in worry. And then, before we return to Hogwarts, I plan to put the most extravagant piece of traditional courting jewellery that I can on my witch. Everyone will know how serious I am about her. I will make her Mrs. Zabini before the end of 1999, mark my words.
Once Cordelia had finished her loop around the circle to provide encouragement and discussion to each of the circle members, she announced that she was going to continue the discussion she'd been having with them for days about negative self-talk.
"We are still really challenged by negative self-talk based on my private sessions from the last couple days. So I just want to go over some more tools for your toolbox to help overcome it. Another way to banish negative thoughts from your mind is saying them aloud. Sharing your negative thoughts with a trusted friend can help you to see with an outside perspective how absurd some of our negative self-talk can be. Bare minimum it should help you to find support. And if a friend isn't supportive of you overcoming negative self-talk, then they aren't a friend. I know this is a little tangential, but I want to point out that even though you all trauma bonded, basically shared a traumatic experience, with others who fought in the war, that doesn't necessarily make them your friend. Particularly those who chose not to attend this summer program. Shared past experience is no reason to put up with abusive, toxic or hurtful behaviour. "
Hermione could not help but think of Ron then, the way he always belittled her when she did things that he disapproved of, the way he wanted her to do whatever he said even if she was unhappy. Even Harry cared little now for her day to day happiness. It was depressing to think that she'd invested so many years into two men who now couldn't even be bothered to owl her. Abusive. Toxic. Hurtful. Cordelia's words rang in Hermione's head like an alarm.
Cordelia had continued speaking to the group, while Hermione was lost in thought. "Even whispering some negative self-talk phrases can remind you how illogical they sound. This can remind you to not be so harsh to yourself. I know that many of you blame yourself for things far out of your own control. You fought in a war created by adults despite being children. Some of those adults might have been your parents or your mentors or even your teachers, but the truth of the matter was nothing was your fault. You couldn't have done more, because simply put not a single one of you should have been fighting at all."
"I'd like each of you to work on simply stopping negative thoughts as they happen. This is known as 'thought-stopping' and think of it as an Immobulus for a negative thought or simply transfiguring it into another thought when a negative one enters your mind like mice into tea cups."
"This can be helpful with repetitive or extremely critical thoughts like, "I'm evil" or, "I'll never be able to do this," for example. This is one of the best routes to combating negative self-talk: Replace it with something better. Take a negative thought and change it to something encouraging that's also true and helpful. And just keep repeating these positive statements just like the affirmations that you should have put up in your dorms. This works well with most bad habits: replacing alcohol with pumpkin juice, for example. It's a great way to develop a more positive way of thinking about yourself and about life generally. I know that you haven't experienced much that makes you think that life can be positive, but I swear to you that there is more to life than Hogwarts' corridors and Unforgivable curses."
"I know that is a huge shift in your thinking, that there are things in life worth doing past the war and your scars, but I swear that it is true. Back to what I was talking about, when you are engaging in negative self-talk, you may be able to catch yourself, but it can sometimes be difficult to force yourself to stop a thought in its tracks. It's often far easier to change the level of intensity of your language. "I can't take this" can transform into "This is difficult for me right now." "I despise..." can transform into "I don't like." As we bring the level of our negative self-talk down, it loses a bit of its power like snapping its wand or casting a protego over our psyches."
"One obvious (butdifficult) way to stop being so hard on yourself is to just stop thinking about yourself so much. Distraction. Distraction can be the key. Whether its starting a garden,"
Neville smiled sheepishly.
"Painting"
Draco blushed.
"Reading obscure grimoires and throwing yourself into studying."
Theo and Hermione both smiled at each other slyly.
"It truly doesn't matter as long as it gives you pleasure and pulls you out of your head and brings you back to the world of life. Depression can be insidious, especially for those of you who have been through so much. We can't give up on the joys that make life worth living. They are what keeps us tethered to happiness and a future with meaning."
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While the group of them were at lunch forcing conversation through the tension of the program's imminent end in the Great Hall , the Headmistress came up to their table, her face stern.
"Mr. Nott, Ms. Granger, I would like to meet with you both briefly about my plans for the eighth year dorm and then Mr. Nott, you have another meeting. I have given them a classroom as they seem to need some space for their work."
Theo was pleased that his directive to the solicitors to meet with him at their soonest convenience aligned with what he considered soon. He hoped that his owls had conveyed his sense of urgency appropriately to them. If not, he would certainly do so in person. He placed his napkin on his plate as he rose.
"Of course, Headmistress," Theo said.
Hermione smiled, her eyebrow raised at Theo, who wasn't going to be saying anything just yet in front of Draco about his plans. He didn't want to give his love the chance to self-sabotage and if he had more warning, that is exactly what he would do.
Once outside the Great Hall, McGonagall turned to them and without preamble asked, "Do you think returning eighth year students can handle the responsibility of a shared common room and individual sleeping quarters rather than staying in dormitories of two to four?"
Hermione was swift to answer, "Since the majority of the returning eighth years are here for the therapy program, Headmistress, I would say yes. If Ronald was returning, I would say that it would be foolish to put him in a common area with Slytherins as he would never be able to control himself."
"Interesting that you say so, Ms Granger, I admit that I thought the same. I admit I was worried about Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Thomas, but you appear to have won them over Mr. Nott."
Theo only nodded with a small smile on his face as he thought of his new Gryffindor friends.
"Do you agree with Ms. Granger's assessment, Mr Nott?"
"I admit to concerns about Greg, Headmistress. He's very angry over Vince and may be an issue in regards to inter-house unity."
McGonagall's face screwed up as though she had tasted something sour.
"He hasn't been attending the group; I have been informed by Healer Atticus." McGonagall's fingers tapped a rhythm on her arm, a nervous habit that Theo didn't recall ever seeing before on the Transfiguration professor. "Thank you, Mr Nott, for being willing to share your concerns about a member of your house. Who, I believe, is also a friend??"
"I don't think Greg is anyone's friend anymore." Theo's hands disappeared into his pockets and he tried to decide if he should say more; finally, the impulse won out. "He's clearly his own worst enemy at the moment."
McGonagall simply nodded. "Ms. Granger, you can return to luncheon. Mr. Nott, please follow me."
Hermione stood awkwardly for a minute as though she wanted to insist on coming with Theo, who would have let her if she had asked. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned away, briskly walking back into the Great Hall.
McGonagall led Theo down a hallway and knocked on the door, opening it to reveal a dark haired witch with her.
"Mathilda Wright, a pleasure to meet you Lord Nott," the young woman shook his hand.
"The barristers you've hired, Thaddeus Penworthy and Hepsibeth Osborne, are back at the office."
"I am paying you so I want you to understand that if you fail and your client goes to Azkaban, I will destroy you." Theo smiled warmly, his eyes cold with promises.
"I'd assumed as much, Lord Nott." The solicitor stated, pushing her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. "Mr Malfoy has quite the advocate in you, it's unfortunate that I can't have you testify." Her tone made it sound as though it was anything but unfortunate. Theo raised an eyebrow at her impertinence. She continued looking through her notes unabated.
"I see here that Harry Potter is going to be testifying on Mr. Malfoy's behalf. That's quite a coup."
"Yes," Theo replied, "And yet his prior solicitor still expected a five year Azkaban sentence."
"His prior solicitor was a fool." Ms. Wright's lips pinched in distaste. "Aletheia Achidan and Mr. Remington spent all of yesterday in his offices at the Ministry at my behest, gathering files and the defence copies of the evidence. Suffice it to say the man had no plan and was going to be winging it." She said the last as though it was a literal abomination and Theo found that he was liking her more and more. "We've used some of the retainer money to take a private set of offices in Diagon Alley for the duration of the week. We'd prefer the fewest distractions possible so that we can provide Mr. Malfoy with the most comprehensive representation possible. Ms. Achidan is interviewing Mrs. Malfoy today in order to determine how we want to focus her testimony. "
"I will of course reimburse the rental of the offices," Theo responded, his chin in his palm as he listened to her. "My biggest concern of course is keeping Draco out of Azkaban. I'm willing to pay whatever it costs to make that happen."
"Is he aware?"
"Of what, Ms. Wright?"
"That you are in love with him?"
Theo raised an eyebrow at the woman, "While that's neither here nor there, I am glad you perceive my seriousness about keeping him out of Azkaban."
"I suspect, Lord Nott, that that is a bit of an understatement." Solicitor Wright pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Do you have a list of additional testimonies that we should expect on Mr. Malfoy's behalf?"
"Luna Lovegood has said she has already reached out to testify."
"She's to give a victim witness statement."
"Well that may be what they think she has planned, but I assure you that that is not the case," Theo stated.
"I'd like to speak with her while I am here today."
"I'm certain that can be arranged," Theo replied, "Draco gave extensive memories and evidence to Gawain Robards recently and we were foolish in that we didn't get any promises from him for Draco's cooperation in advance. I admit at the time I was more concerned about the Aurors guarding Lady Malfoy discovering a mass grave on the manor grounds."
"They are extremely unpleasant men," Ms Wright stated, "You probably were correct, but I am sorry I wasn't hired in advance of that decision. I will put a visit to Robards on my list of to-dos for tomorrow. I used to be an intern in the DMLE so he knows me rather well. I'll be able to get to the bottom of this particular issue. Anyone else?"
"Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Mindhealer Cordelia, I suspect Madam Pince and the Headmistress might also be amenable to speaking on Draco's behalf."
"The Golden Girl, herself, well, that's going to really be strongly in Mr. Malfoy's favour. And Mr. Longbottom," She hummed thoughtfully and shifted through her papers. "He killed the final horcrux? And what is he planning to say? No, no nevermind. I'd like to meet with him, today if possible, and Miss Lovegood. I'll meet with Miss Granger another day. I'd like to devote some significant time to discussing her testimony with her. I don't have that time today."
Theo nodded, thoughtfully, "Tell me honestly, Ms. Wright, can you win this trial?"
"I don't make promises in my line of work, but I have never lost a trial yet."
Theo crossed his arms and stared into space for a moment, hoping against hope that Draco wouldn't be the breaking of her winning streak.
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Hermione had sat in the Great Hall for a long time, allowing everyone else to leave before she threw her knapsack over her shoulder and looking around at the lack of the ghosts that she'd grown so used to over the years she'd grown so used to and the dozens of memories of agony from the last battle that haunted her, ghosts or not, and she finally made her way out of the room. She looked around one more time at the room that had once held so much death. The blood was long gone, but the suffering remained. It was carved into the stone and mortar of the place. Perhaps Hogwarts students would still feel the sorrow of what happened here a thousand years from now.
As she wandered down the hall, and up the stairwell, finding herself on the second floor near Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Hermione wondered what perverse sentimentality had drawn her here, when a scream shook her to her core.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Echoed from within the lavatory, glass shattered and Hermione realised she too was screaming, her wand in her hand as she rushed into the bathroom. One of the Gryffindor boys that she didn't know well was sprawled out on the floor, his wand still clutched in his hands his unseeing eyes stared up at the ceiling, and Hermione looked up and her eyes met Myrtle's spectre, weeping silently, before the ghost faded back into the wall.
The way the body was laying as though he had crumpled when the Avada had struck, there was a shattered mirror across from it. Had the boy Avada'd himself? Was that possible?
Hermione looked down at the boy's body, his dark hair messy not unlike Harry's and realised that next to his body was a note. Without touching it she leaned over to see what it said.
Dearest Mother,
I am so sorry, but I just can't do this…
I can't pretend anymore that I'm getting better.
She couldn't breathe, she was choking. She was going to drown in the despair that was flooding her veins. Every bit of light was being swallowed by this darkness. She kept scanning the note. It had a simple signature.
Dirk
That meant this boy was Dirk Cresswell, Jr. The son of the man who had been killed to allow Dean to escape from snatchers. Oh Good Godric.
Hermione was able to stop herself hyperventilating for only a moment and pictured Draco, Theo and Pansy's sleeping faces in the morning when she woke and they were all right there. The smell of them, Theo's fingers at her nape. Draco's breath on her skin. She summoned her Patronus and sent the otter off for the Headmistress begging her to come at once.
Dropping to her knees in the broken glass, Hermione began to sob. She couldn't feel the blood that seeped through her denims as the glass cut into her skin.
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The Black Lake was beautiful. The sun dappled the surface and Luna trailed her toes in the water not paying attention to the world around her. She smiled at the merfolk that she could see in the deeper part of the lake just past the dropoff where she sat. They'd pull her down if they could, she knew. She wasn't trying to invade their territory though and as long as she stayed safely on the shore, no one could hurt her.
Luna didn't see the two Slytherin girls sneaking up behind her, wands drawn, their faces masks of hate and envy. She was closing her eyes and soaking up the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, adoring the perfection of the moment.
Before her secret attackers could throw whatever curse or jinx they planned, Blaise interfered with a Protego, perhaps the strongest he'd ever cast. A strong wind blew Millicent and Tracey backwards and both girls were covered in a burning rash at the same time.
They'd planned to disfigure and drown his beloved, Blaise stewed. The girls ran away looking around confused at why their hexes had blown back on them. Luna appeared unaware of the chaos behind her, but when he stepped towards her all he could see was the gratitude written in her eyes as she turned toward him.
Blaise would burn the world to keep his Moon safe.
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Draco was surprised when a house elf pulled him away from his volunteer work in the library. The Hogwarts elves rarely made a show of themselves preferring to hide and do their work silently and in secret.
Sitting outside the library were several packages and Draco smiled, pleased that they had arrived. He ran his hands along the packages feeling the stretched canvases inside. He shrunk them down carefully into his knapsack. The elf had already disappeared when Draco looked up. He felt like an arse for not thanking the little fellow. He thought of Hermione's little crusade to free the house elves and wondered if she'd be peeved with him for being impolite.
He needed to find a space that was going to be appropriate for creating the painting that he needed to make before his trial. He had so little time left with the people that he was so entangled with and he wanted them to have something to remember him by. He wandered through the corridors looking left and right, opening old doors and peering into abandoned classrooms. He just needed to find a spot suitable for a makeshift studio.
Draco didn't really want to go to Azkaban, but he couldn't deny that for all his crimes and choices he should be rotting in that nightmare. The secret ocean prison held his father and what was Draco, if not Lucius Malfoy's son, his chip off the old block. It seemed the inevitable conclusion to Draco's misspent life. He knew that he was brooding about his trial and tried to remind himself of the encouragement he had gotten from Theo, Pans, and Hermione.
Draco couldn't help but think about each of them - Theo was the first person he loved aside from his mother, Pansy and her quick wit and fierce devotion to those she loves, how he longed for Hermione for so long but never believed he could be with her in this way. That he could touch and hold and kiss her, even in secret, was more than he could have ever believed possible. There was something about the four of them together that made him feel complete. Draco had never felt that way in his entire life. There had always been something missing, an emptiness in his chest. But now it was like he felt four heartbeats within that former void.
Pulled from his thoughts when he sees light pouring from a door tucked in the corner at the end of a corridor. He peeked through the doorway to find the perfect room with several floor to ceiling windows that flooded it with the perfect natural light. This, he decided, this was the place for him.
As he enlarged and unbundled the packages, he was pleased to see everything he had owl-ordered: art supplies including a huge canvas, an easel, lots of magical paint, brushes and a palette.
He set up the easel and the longest canvas, making sure he oriented it in the best possible light.
He transfigured a chair into a high stool, sat down, and got to work. Time was now precious in the life of Draco Malfoy and he had plans for every moment of it that remained.
00000000
After spending most of the afternoon with the Headmistress, Professor Flitwick, and the Mind healers, Hermione had managed to pull herself together in front of them. However, she started to fall apart again on the walk back to the Heads Dorm.
Her breath was coming fast as she slammed into the room, the password breathless on her tongue. Hermione realised that she must look as though something had happened to her.
Draco and Theo jumped up from where they had been reading on the couch and ran to her. Pansy walked in from the kitchen and nearly dropped her glass of wine, as she rushed forward.
"Mi, are you all right?" Pansy stroked her cheek. Hermione gasped and started to cry again.
Hermione tried to force out the words, but it was as if her throat was closed. Draco's face grew more terrified as she was unable to say what had occurred. Theo's jaw was clenched and he looked as though he wanted to rip someone apart, if he could only figure out who.
Hermione's tears turned into loud gulping sobs, the dead boy's face swimming behind her eyes.
Pansy stepped back, "This is getting us nowhere, I'm going to grab a calming draught." She flashed a look at Theo that had him swooping Hermione up bridal style and carrying her, following in Pansy's wake. Draco trailed behind, seemingly at a loss of what to do.
"Alright, Mi," Pansy tipped a vial to her lips, Hermione still sheltered in Theo's embrace, "Drink up for me darling."
Hermione felt the cooling potion bring her back under control, her sobs slowing, tears drying up. She hadn't realised that she was shaking until it stopped.
"Now Hermione, please tell us what's happened." Theo commanded, "Are you hurt?"
"No-no," Hermione replied, putting her cheek against Theo's chest, trying to absorb the heat and life from his skin, "I found a-a sixth year student, D-Dirk Creswell. He was in Gryffindor, not sure if you know him. His father sacrificed himself for Dean during the war. Well he-he, I found him, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and he-he'd killed himself. Did-did you know you can Avada yourself? I didn't realise you could, but-but he did. I heard him and I ran in and there-there was a note. It was awful."
Theo sat down hard on the edge of the bed, his gaze long and vacant as he absorbed the news. His arms tightened around Hermione, still clutched in his arms. Draco scrubbed at his face. Pansy's fists clenched and opened and clenched again. Tiny blood droplets formed where her nails pricked her palms.
Pansy sighed and transfigured her clothes into her pyjamas and then walked over to the wardrobe where she'd put night things for herself and Mi. She pulled out a basic pale mint slip, gesturing at Theo to shift Hermione so she could change her. Pansy scowled and with a wave of her wand, the clothes Hermione had on were replaced with the slip.
"Hermione!" Draco cried, "What happened to your legs?" There were dozens of small cuts and blood coated her skin that had been hidden by her denims. Theo used a wandless nonverbal Episkey and Pansy cast a Scourgify.
"There was broken glass everywhere," Hermione whispered absently, as Theo stroked her curls. "I must have knelt in it." She closed her eyes and tried to force down the image that now had been burned into her mind.
Pansy's soft footfall could be heard leaving the room, but she returned minutes later with a glass of water for Hermione, holding it to her lips. Hermione sipped slowly and then shook her head when she couldn't drink anymore.
Hermione's eyes still closed, she felt Draco's arms wrap around her and take her from Theo. The scent of paint and exotic spices lulled her senses as she felt Draco carry her around the bed and slide her under the covers. He crawled in next to her, and she nuzzled into his chest. Hermione felt the other side of the bed dip and Pansy's soft hands skated over Hermione's waist.
Pansy kissed Hermione's neck and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Mi." Hermione's lip quivered and she tried to banish the images from earlier.
Draco stroked her cheek and then wrapped his arm around shoulders. "You are safe here with us, Granger." He kissed her gently on top of her curls.
The bed shifted again as Theo slid in behind Pansy.
"Let's skip dinner tonight," Theo whispered, his long fingers skating over Hermione's leg, "We'll just hold you. If you get hungry later, I will beg the house elves to take pity on us." He sighed, "And I can obliviate you, if you'd rather not remember what you saw today."
Hermione shook her head, "N-no, I'd rather not forget." She let their whispered words of comfort and physical companionship pull her down into exhausted slumber. On and off through the night, her tears soaked through Draco's shirt. He lay awake wishing that she'd never have another day of sorrow like this. He knew then that he couldn't kill himself ahead of his trial, he could never hurt Hermione that way. If Azkaban was to be his fate, he would have to discover for himself.
Death could not be his escape from the consequences of his family's choices in the war.
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Tuesday morning blew in bright and cold. Theo made coffee for himself and Draco.
The girls were still cuddling in bed, Pansy's cheek pressed against Hermione's breasts, her hand between Hermione's thighs.
Draco stood out on the balcony, staring at the view. He'd thrown a Slytherin Quidditch jumper over his pyjamas. Theo held their coffees for a minute, staring at his lover as Draco chewed at his black painted nails. The tension rolled off the blond in waves. But still it was better than watching Draco occlude and worrying that he was slowly turning himself into one of the insane terrors that had controlled their lives during the war.
The possibility of Draco looking at him with the mad sadism of Bellatrix Lestrange was the stuff of nightmares for Theo. He couldn't imagine a worse fate, he thought he would rather be dead.
Setting down the two cups of coffee for a moment, Theo recalled the package from Narcissa from the book donation trunk. He accio'd it from his knapsack.
Unshrinking it, he discovered that it's a lap harp. Theo tucked it under his arm and arranged the two coffee mugs in his other hand. He used wandless nonverbal magic to slide the balcony door open and shut behind him and smiled slightly at how impressed he imagined that Hermione would be if she had seen him.
Draco took his coffee with a grateful nod, continuing to stare out into the pink and gold morning. His breath was visible as it escaped between his lips.
"Hey, your mum sent something for you." Theo said, holding the lap harp out for Draco. Draco turned and looked at it for a minute, then looked at Theo's face. Something he saw there must have convinced him, because he drained his mug and took the harp, sitting on one of the seats that was there.
Draco played on the balcony while Theo smoked and watched him. Theo tried to memorise every line and colour of his beloved: the moonlight of his hair, his porcelain skin, the steel grey of his eyes, the perfect rose of his soft lips.
Music drifted out to the courtyard below, soft and mournful.
Crookshanks wandered out through the sliver of the open door. He rubbed himself on Draco's legs while he played. The soft smile that played on Draco's lips as he looked down at the cat, his fingers traipsing over the strings pulling out the melodies in such a way that Theo felt embedded it in his very soul.
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It was breakfast and on the dais, McGonagall stood before them, her face dour and drawn. It looked like she hadn't slept all night and hadn't bothered to take a Pepper-Up or glamour the blue smudges under her eyes.
"I am so sorry to tell you all that one of our students, Dirk Cresswell Jr., has passed. I'm also very sad to tell you that the cause of death was suicide. Many of you may also feel immense sadness from this.. Others may feel other emotions such as anger or confusion. It's okay to feel whatever emotions you might be feeling. When someone takes their own life, it leads to a lot of questions, some of which may never be completely answered. While we may never know why Mr. Cresswell ended his life, we do know that suicide has many causes. In many cases, a mental health condition is part of it, and these conditions are treatable. It's really important if you're not feeling well in any way to reach out for help. Suicide should not be an option. Rumours may come out about what happened, but please don't spread them. They may turn out to be untrue and can be deeply hurtful and unfair to Mr. Cresswell and his family and friends. I'm going to do my best to give you the most accurate information as soon as I know it. Each of us will react to Mr. Cresswell's death in our own way, and we need to be respectful of each other. Some of us may have known Mr Cresswell very well and some of us may not. But either way, we may have strong feelings. You might find it difficult to concentrate for a little while. On the other hand, you might find that focusing on the last couple of days of our program helps take your mind off what has happened. Either is okay. I want you to know that your teachers and I are here for you. We also have counsellors here to help us all cope with what happened. If you'd like to talk to one of them, just let me or one of your teachers know or look for the counsellors in the morning at group or after group in their office near Arithmancy. We are all here for you. We are all in this together, and the school staff will do whatever we can to help you get through this. I am available as well for any student who would like to talk about how this is making them feel."
"I as well," said Theo, standing up, his face more serious than Hermione thought she had ever seen it.
"The same for myself," Hermione said, standing, her eyes tracing over the younger Gryffindors that sat together at one of the circle tables, several of them sporting the glassy look of someone who had taken a strong calming draught. Hermione noticed that the other Cresswell boy was missing too. What had he been? Fifth year?
She met McGonagall's eyes and received a proud nod before the Headmistress, "And your Head Girl and Head Boy are also available to be spoken with as well. There will also be some more discussion during the therapy group today about this issue and how you all are feeling. Remember, none of you are alone here at Hogwarts."
For no reason, Hermione felt her eyes drawn to the 5th and 6th year Slytherin table and was surprised to see Aethel Rowle and one of the other girls whose names she didn't know, sob into each other's shoulders. It was hard for her to imagine that the daughter of a Death Eater was weeping at the suicide of a halfblood boy whose Muggleborn father may have been killed by hers. But then she looked at Theo and Draco and imagined how they would take her suicide and she realised she was letting old biases impact her.
Her body moving of its own accord, she found herself walking over to the two young girls. Squatting on the balls of her feet, Hermione rubbed their shoulders, "Ladies?" She whispered, "How about I help you get up to Madam Pomfrey and we get you two some calming draughts?" Both girls nodded tearfully.
Looking on from the table that Hermione had just walked away from, Pansy Parkinson felt herself slip fully and inexorably into love with the Gryffindor Princess. She may have already loved her, but when she looked back later this would always be the moment that she pinpointed as the instant that she realised that she loved.
End note:
McGonnagal's speech comes from
After a Suicide: A Toolkit for Schools, Second Edition 2018
https//resources-programs/after-suicide-toolkit-schools