AN: I just want to say, I don't have a computer. I usually do this through phone. That being said, i still have trouble working the app. So if anyone has every PM me and I didn't reply, it was because my dummy brain didn't know. I'm aware that it gives messages through email but I realized the email i use for this account is a very old one, which I barely log into. After logging in, I've found messages that haven't been responded in months... Sorry. From now on, I'll start checking. So please feel free to PM anytime!

Hanks for reading.

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In the small few moments he's had with himself, one thing Mortimer thought about was how he was going to make up for nearly wreaking Draco's very own broom. More importantly, how he's going to explain to him for running off.

Aunt Cissy seems to have understand. Why wouldn't she? She knew her husband more than anyone else. So confessing to her about his plans, he was relieved when she hadn't yelled at him to accuse him of lying. She cared for him, like anyone loving relative. But she wasn't one without putting down the hammer when needed to be.

Frowning, he acknowledges that he will spend his weekends inside the school as he was being punished, banned from going to Hogsmede. And while Draco, Theo and the others go out and have fun, Mortimer will unfortunately have to stay, along with the other younger years.

Patting his eye, Mortimer remembers spending the early morning in the mirror, inspecting his face. More directly, his eyes. He hasn't forgotten, he was heedful and attentive, avoiding to look at anyone directly. Either way, it wasn't worth looking up. The sky wasn't shinning and the clouds basically ruled over the sun. It was grey and the winds blew across their direction, giving off the idea of possible showers. An overall gloomy type of weather that would upset anyone who adored the sunlight and summer.

Regardless, Mortimer mostly kept his head down. Hearing once again the many voices of children that came aboard the train's platform. His trunks resting from behind, Tobey was again hidden underneath Mortimer's collared shirt. Gone with the muggle wear he had dawned previously and back to a more elegant style. He disliked wearing the posh attire, but being thrust back in, it was important he appear spiffy to the house he was in.

Students running across the area, they were glad to reunite with old friends. You can easily tell them apart, those were use to the routine of coming back and those who were new to the whole experience.

And yet, it was different.

Instead of seeing happy-go-luck smiling faces of eagerness and excitement. He was alternatively met with weary glances and cautious steps. Those who weren't aware stood there confused, questioning for a cause of their strange behavior.

The unnecessary foreboding caused by Sirius Black's incredible escape had many of the public turning their heads. They've become vigilant towards their surroundings, seeking every corner for the convict. It wasn't just muggle's that were afraid, but purebloods as well. The madman was unpredictable, who knew what he was after.

Rotating his stiff neck, Mortimer hasn't seen anyone from his year. From the looks of it, it would seem that they too did not notice him either. Good, he didn't think he was ready to face them just yet. He didn't doubt Draco had told them what happened over the summer. A twinkling feeling, it was confirmed as letters suddenly stopped in the weeks he's been away.

Ginny would accompany Mortimer to the station, inviting him to join her and Luna. As polite as she was, his focus rested on finding Draco. An urge to explain, he didn't want Draco to think he's moved on. That he didn't need Malfoy simply because he had decided to befriend bloodtraitors and people alike. The more he thought, the more he can see himself shrivel up. Biting the his cheek, he's already insulted the family by leaving, what could be worse? An answer that didn't need much digging, it was no wonder he couldn't sleep. The guilt of having to run, time will only tell when things will go back to normal – if they can return.

At the loud whistling noise of the train's golden horn, the signal for its departure had arisen. Hearing the shrill sound fill the air, their direction heads towards it. Causing a shift when the children leave and says their goodbyes before making their way inside. As everyone began to board the train, Mortimer surveyed the station for any signs of Draco.

As the countless minutes pass, Mortimer started to worry. Judging by the piling students, all ramming inside the express, he was aware that if he didn't move soon, there'd be no more compartments left. Looking left and right, he sought out one last time, thinking that Draco must've already boarded.

Disappointed, Mortimer had no choice but to leave. He'd most likely see him at the welcoming feast along with all the other's. It's felt like a long time since he's last seen them. Since Tracey and Daphne were practically banned from visiting the Manor, they've only spoke through their letters. He's seen Theo a couple of times over the summer, though it was mostly when ever Nott Senior visited Lucius for their Ministry business.

Since running off, he's only been welcomed by Potter's spectacled face, along with his clan of outcasts. Time's sure have changed. He never thought he'd get along, not at first. The chosen one was suspicious of him from the start, and to be fair, a lot of children were as well. The name Black certainly didn't make things any better. Yet, after what happened during second-year, Potter has backed off in his assumptions. Doubting his own beliefs on the type of person Mortimer was.

Lugging his trunks, the train made created a series of toots, which meant last call for anyone trying to board. Kicking the dirt under his feet, his lip pressed into a thin line, letdown. He had to move swiftly if he didn't want to get left behind.

By the time Mortimer had boarded the train, it was already full with returning students. Mortimer didn't waste time and decided to head towards the back end of the train, hardly anyone goes there out of inconvenience. He walks by a few familiar faces and fortunately, none have noticed him. Sadly, he still wasn't able to find Draco. It was likely he and Theo had gone up to the front, like every other slytherin.

Once Mortimer had found a suitable compartment, he dragged the rest of his trunks and placed them on top, where they would rest for the remainder of the ride. After a couple a minutes of trying to adjust, he eventually slumps back into a cushioned seat, where he fumbles around until he finds a relaxing position.

As he waits for the train to gear its engine's, Mortimer ponders as to why he wasn't able to find Draco. Was he purposely trying to avoid him? It seemed plausible, considering the lack of contact he's received. The only Malfoy who had was Aunt Cissy, even then, she was often vague when speaking about Draco. Always giving basic answers. Mostly consisting with Draco being fine. And kowing his cousin, it was anything but. 'Fine' doesn't begin to describe what Draco is feeling.

Words like betrayal, letdown and livid came to mind. Was it deserved? Probably. Mortimer couldn't describe it. Part him felt that Draco deserved some sort of explanation, after all, he knew almost everything about him. From the time before Hogwarts, to the aftermath of his parentage. Telling Draco meant a lot for him, as even till today, he has yet to say a word. The many chances he's had to tell everyone last year that Mortimer was the heir, Draco had remained silent on the matter.

It always bother Mortimer as to why he never told anyone, not even Theo, a boy considered to be a close friend. Most people would've sold him out. So when Mortimer realized he was safe, he had to question himself. Why? Why didn't he tell anyone? What did Draco gain from his silence? He thought he'd be eager to shout at everyone that he was related to one of Salazar's last remaining descendants.

Yet, words were never uttered. And it confused Mortimer to no end.

Sighing, Mortimer leaned back in his booth, staring off into the corner of the compartment, with a book in hand. He's read through a quarter of his Ancient Runes textbook, it was more skimming than actually reading. No matter how hard he tries, it hadn't offer him the chance to distract himself from being anxious.

Every now and then, Mortimer would rub his eyes in concern. It doesn't necessarily work, but for his own sake, he'd like to think it keeps his appearance at bay. The unusual change in him was indescribable, as much as it is confusing. Perhaps he was going through some kind of wizard puberty… Was that even a thing? Do all wizards go through this stage of transaction? Morphing into a something as strange as a creature that couldn't resemble anything of the ordinary?

How long will it last?

Mortimer laid back, watching the ceiling, lights flickering as the engine's wheels roll and the train progressively moves, revving up its golden coupling rods and blowing its steam engine. He heard commotion coming from the other side of the compartment.

Apparently someone else couldn't find a seat.

Without a word, Mortimer stood up and walked to its doors, someone outside must have seen him coming because soon as he slid the entrance's frames open, the figure had let out a squeal that nearly made him go deaf.

In time to see the person take a step back and jump. He only stares at Lavender Brown in disbelief.

Another squeal.

Mortimer shook his head, sneering at how her face immediately brightens as she faces him. Not far from her is Parvati and Padma, who were equally surprised to find him here alone.

"Mortimer?" exclaimed Lavender, watching in awe as she processed Mortimer's presence. "Oh! I barely recognized you." She pauses before tilting her head. "You wouldn't happen to have any room for us in there, would you?"

"Let me guess – Everywhere is full?"

Nodding, Lavender smiled, patting the small dust from her clothes. Her hair in pigtails, she tightens her hair bands, waiting for a invite.

And for a while, Mortimer debated with himself. Spending a train ride with Lavender and the twins wasn't something he necessarily want to do. Better yet, sending them away sounded more appeasing than anything at the moment.

However, setting aside his desires, he reluctantly lets them inside. Rolling his eyes as Lavender flutter hers. Slowly, he starts to remember why he's avoided her all year long. What Mortimer didn't expect to see was giddiness in her pale expression, as if she was simply ecstatic to be here.

Mortimer watched as Padma struggled with her trunk. Only then, he decides to help. Setting up their trunks on top of their compartment. The Ravenclaw had thanked him before the annoying sounds of giggling girls crammed inside his ears causing him to scowl in response.

Why do I even bother?

Not a second a later, he was back in his seat with a peeving cast his face. The girls took this as a sign and followed suit. Parvati and Padma sitting across from him, while the annoying little blond, Lavender, plops down right next him.

"Can I help you?" Mortimer hurled at her.

Lavender, unfazed by his irritation, offered a bright look, answering him. "I heard you ran away."

Taking a few moments to process her words, his brows knitted. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Attempting to get closer, she leans in. "Don't play dumb, Morty – I overheard Granger talking with Potter. Said, you've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Is it true?"

The look on Mortimer as she asked gave her the confirmation she needed. He eyed her for a single second, his heart fueling the overthought senses of his mind. No one else was suppose to know. "What else did you hear?"

Lavender smiled at Mortimer, answering his question, near a teasing manner. "Just that you ran away… I can hardly blame you, being related to Malfoy and all that. I'd want to leave to."

"Well, she's wrong." Mortimer breathed, avoiding the Parvati's questioning gaze. He had salvage what little he could before word spreads. "I didn't run away. They had important business and…" Staring down warily, said. "I didn't want to go so they let me stay here."

Rolling her eyes , she folded her arms. "I don't believe you."

"It's true." He persisted. No longer did he want to talk. Let alone trapped with Lavender's annoying presence.

As his face remained worried, Lavender appeared kind. Her smiling face as she says. "If you say so," She hummed. "To be honest, I don't really care." Retreating back into her chair. "I was merely curious as to why you haven't written to me."

A relief, he shook off his nervy feeling that was quickly replaced by irritation. "And exactly why would I want to waste ink on writing you a letter?"

She scoffs, placing a hand on her chest, beyond disbelieved that he would easily forget. "If we're going to be married in a couple of years, you need to start making the right impression. Meaning, more time on me and less with that lot you surround yourself with."

The girl truly was out of her mind. Delirious, he'd laugh if only she didn't sound too serious. "Are you insane?" He asked quietly.

"I've never been more sure than anything." Lavender sighed, appearing in a dream-like state.

Sharing similar thoughts, Parvati and Padma couldn't judge their friend and decided to stay out of it. A lover's quarrel… or so they thought. Mortimer's evident loured glare told a different story when comparing it to Lavender's besotted stare as they watched to the two.

"Should we say something?" Whispered Padma.

Shaking her head, Parvati knew when to avoid a fight. "No, I think we should let them work it out themselves."

"What if they kill each other?"

"They won't. He's too nice and she's…" taxing her argument, she eyed the two going back and forth. "I don't think she'd want to ruin his face."

"Too true." Padma agreed, peering towards Lavender's smitten expression.

Going back to Mortimer, was quickly disrupted at any attempt she might have been thinking about.

Correct in his assumption, Lavender had managed to slip her arms around his, giggling as she took advantage of his frozen state. "I can't wait! I've already looked at wedding gown's. There's just so many, I can't decide! Our wedding will be beautiful – "

"Get off me." Stiff as a board, he commanded when trying to pry her hands away.

Brown's tight grip refusing to let go, she continued to snicker her girlish laugh along with her friends. A long intolerable sigh, Mortimer played possum. Suffering as Lavender Brown staked her claim in what she believes to be love, whilst he himself had called insanity.

An excruciating hour, Mortimer continued his reading. He became quite a bore, so much so that the girls had retreated themselves into a their own little conversation, lowering the volume of their voices. Becoming tolerable for a while, he felt the given space amongst the girls. Noticing how they whispered, going towards the hot topic of the escapee that was terrorizing wizarding society.

Pretending as if he didn't care, his hands gripped tightly against the cover of the book when he heard Parvati asking, "What do you think about Black escaping, Mortimer?"

His face hidden behind the text, "Nothing that deserves my thoughts." Muttering as he feels their eyes on him.

"Aren't you scared?" Padma wonder, titling her head, she leans forwards, trying to catch his dull expression.

"I hardly have a reason to." He replied plainly. "and neither should you."

"But what if he tries going after you." Parvati asked. "Or me? Or anyone one of us?"

Mortimer snorted in laughter, place his book down to his lap, he argued. "Please – As if he has better things to do then terrorize a bunch of school children."

Biting her lip, Padma proposed, folding her hands together. "He could be after Potter. . ."

He couldn't see as to why he'd be interested in him. Other than doing the no good deed of his father. It made sense if the rumors were true. "Then it's a good thing you're not him, right?" Mortimer said, lifting his book again, his face was concealed.

"Enough about that creep." Lavender shivered. "Let's talk about something more… pleasant." Tap her chin lightly, she suggested. "Hogsmeade! I can't wait – We are going to have the greatest of times. There' this lovely little tea shop –"

"I'm not going." Mortimer firmly states as he turns the page.

Her voice whining as she asks. "What do you mean?"

"It means I'm not going." Repeating himself, Mortimer ignores her scowling glare.

At the same time, began to slowly translate the I in his rune book. Isaz – meaning ice. As in challenge and self-control, to still in concentration… Interesting. He squints his eyes.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, he could feel her warm breath on his neck. "Why not?"

Avoiding her irritated stare, he realizes she was getting dangerously close to Tobey, who was napping underneath his shirt top. Hastily, Mortimer pulls off her hands away as he replies with. "I'm grounded – And stop touching me."

Ignoring his request, she makes a small hop in her seat, her features widened in surprise. "Why?"

Mortimer only shrugs, his uncaring expression was progressively getting more testy with every sentence. "For snapping at a girl who needs to mind her own business!"

"How rude!" Lavender squeaks out angrily before folding her arms. "And here I thought I'd let you take me to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop."

Harshly, Mortimer sets the book down, turning over to her when he scoffs. "As if I would ever take you anywhere besides a medic professional."

Lavender was about to retort when the trolley lady came in with a cart of delicious treats.

Parvati and Padma let out a breath, both relieved, they approached the cart and began to grab small bags of mixed treats. "Thank you! They've been going at it for an hour now."

The old portly lady merely smiles, nodding her head as if she understood. "Ah, that what love does to a couple. I remember back when I rode the express. There was this young man and –"

"For the last time, We are not a couple!" Mortimer shouted from his seat. There was determination in his tone. "And don't you have other customers to attend to? Can't you meddle in someone else's business instead of mine?"

Her lip thinning, she scolded. "Young man, I'll have you know that I don't make it a habit of sticking my nose into quarrels of young couples. I was merely conversing with your friends who tire of your impertinent behavior – A lady such as her can only stand so much – The nerve…"

As the old witch was being paid, Lavender had abruptly got up from her seat causing Mortimer to drop his book in the process. Purchasing Witch Weekly's latest issue, "At least someone here can see the value of a woman's heart." tone crossed.

Rolling his eyes, Mortimer withdrew himself. Aware that he'll probably never win against Lavender's stubbornness. Deluded as can be, he will never understand women and he didn't plan to start now.

Shoving his face inside the book, he goes back to more important things. All the while, Brown had begun to take a quiz, reading out loud the questions. Parvati and Padma digging inside their goody bags, were eating as they listened.

By the time the Trolley witch had left, things were becoming calm again. Mortimer was left to his own devices and before he knew it, another hour had passed. He was becoming bored when he finally closes his book. Moving his head, he turns to face the now rainy window. A very dull sight, it left a melancholic mark as the water drops sprayed over the glassy casement.

Rubbing his eyes, Mortimer had thought about leaving the compartment and search for Draco. He was somewhere in the train, and given the time to waste, he could easily find him. Yet, stopped himself from doing so. The reason he hasn't however, was that he wanted to catch Draco alone, preferably away from the other slytherins, or anyone else for the matter.

Blinking, he continued to stare out at the window, watching over the landscapes and animals wandering around the open fields, even rain couldn't stop them touring. Now and then, his hand would twitch, urging him to pinch his eyes shut. His self-horrifying image of yesterday's event played inside. He became nervous, fearing Lavender, or Patil's, might take notice and start questioning him.

"Are you alright?"

Peering his away, he looks at Lavender sitting next to him, chewing on licorice candy. "You seem tense."

Not saying a word, he simply nods slowly before going back towards window.

"Oh um – ok." Lavender reclines back, feeling slightly concerned.

Staring out, Mortimer was able to see more and more of the terrain. Frowning, he questions as to why, normally he was only able to get sight for a few seconds before disappearing. It felt different, like he was staring at the field longer than he should.

It was then that he realizes that the train was slowing down.

Padma noticed as a brow rose, questioning. "Have we arrived?"

Lavender, looking out, squints her eyes. Thinking she might have gone blind as she was unable to see Hogsmeade station. "Well that didn't take long…"

"No that's not right." Parvati shook her head. "I think we've stopped."

Agreeing, Mortimer let out a sigh. Arriving at the school was starting to become a real hindrance. Mortimer simply wanted to get to Hogwarts, find Draco, and get back things to normal. Was it asking too much? He didn't think so.

Regardless of what he wanted it, he was unprepared for the sudden hit of roaring thunderstorms, bitter winds and aggressive raindrops, smacking against the glass.

And then, darkness.

The express had gone completely ominous. As if time had suddenly stopped, the whole compartment goes dead silent, cold even.

Wrapping her arms around his, she sought shelter from the hurried dread coursing her body. "Morty, go see what's going on."

For once, he didn't argue, his curiosity growing as he gets up and creepily goes to the door.

"Master. . ."

Mortimer makes a noise, signaling Tobey that now wasn't the time. Opening the compartment, it would appear that he wasn't the only one on edge. Other students had left just as well, heads sticking out, searching for answers. It was odd. There was nothing notably wrong, other than being submerged in darkness.

"Master." Tobey calls again.

"Not now." Mortimer whispered harshly, his breath exposed in freezing temperature.

"When did it get so cold." Hearing Parvati say from behind.

Shivering, Lavender started to wrap her arms together. "Ah! I can see my breath – can anybody see?"

Looking around, Padma. "Maybe they're having problems with the engine?"

Setting aside their chatter, Mortimer continued to stare out from the compartment. When nothing appeared, he merely turned back, closing it shut, he sat back, forced to wait until the train could be fixed.

Staring up towards the ceiling he closes his eyes. He can still hear everything, from Lavender's squeaky worry tone, to the confusion of Parvati, whilst Padma studied the sudden weather change.

A lightening strike and Padma suddenly speaks in a feeble tone. "Guys… wh-what's that over there?"

Opening one eye, he looks to where Padma was pointing.

Just outside their little carriage they could all see what appeared to be a small group of darkish figures. Their silhouettes were unhuman, omitting floatation as they easily drifted throughout the train.

They let out a short gasp. "What do we do?" Both Patil girls huddled together.

At which point, Lavender lowered her head, a sadden cast formed across her face. "Why do I feel so…so. . . sad?"

A good question, Mortimer suddenly felt as though the world was about to end. He couldn't explain it. Aside from the bitter chill running down his spine, he was suddenly hit with all the horrible memories, swiftly flashing before his eyes. Memories that were tucked away, locked inside a chest where it was to be forgotten. And yet, somehow the key to said chest has now been open.

Every single recollection throughout his young life had now drifted to a particular voice he's associated with all sorts of emotions, too many to describe. If he had to pick one word, it would be fear.

Gripping his hands, he recoils at a shrilly voice long forgotten.

A long piercing scream, he felt as though he was floating in thin air. He couldn't explain it, growing colder and colder, his body goes limp as he hangs in a pulse-ponding atmospheric shell. Submerged and coated, it was telling him to give in. It would be quick, painless even. He won't lie – Mortimer wanted to let go. To be given a small release from the shackling voices, urging him to comply.

Oh, how he wanted to rid the pulsing pain.

He'd do anything to stop the noises – The many screams and cries of old suppressed memories.

A stink of decay, the sensation of what could be described as a slimy wet cold hand, reaches and takes hold of his pale hollowed cheeks.

Mortimer hears others, but also not. The only voice outweighing the others was but a distant memory, manifesting itself as present misery and humiliation.

Sleep. . .

Sleep. . .

Sleep. . .

"WAKE UP!"

Someone shouted. Sitting upright in tight spot, Mortimer panicked, blurry vision, he couldn't get rid of the weight that was holding him down. Not knowing where he was, only that he felt weak and that he was in cold sweat. A terrible pain dug into him at the unknown affair, made worse when he was crowded by a few familiar faces.

Those he was already aware of stood back and watched in horror. Witches like Parvati and Padma were frightened by what they saw that they had decided to hide outside of the compartment. Lavender however, stayed. Unknowingly, leading his head down so that he was resting on her lap, she merely held him as he recovers.

The one he didn't know was a sickly looking man, wearing the dingiest of looking robes he's ever seen and the messiest of brown hair that was in need of a good brush. If he didn't know better, Mortimer would flat out call him homeless.

Unexpectedly, he eyes widened at the sight of Draco, who was equally shaken. Standing besides the nameless man, he hesitates to speak.

"Young man, are you alright?" The older man says before digging inside his pocket. "Here, eat this."

His mind still processing what had just happened, he breathes momentarily, staring at what seemed to be a small piece of chocolate.

Instead of grabbing it, he frowns, trying to blink. Noticing that the lights have been turned on and that the train had started to move again, as if every had gone back to normal.

Out of it, Mortimer's hands traveled throughout his body, making sure this wasn't some strange dream. His whole body tensed up as the crashing yells lingered in his mind, drowning him, making his heart beat faster at the old woman's menacing voice.

It was that very sharp, deeming voice that quickly enrages him.

"Get. Out." Mortimer's voice was hoarse, dangerous.

"Young man. . ." The stranger said.

Forcing the words out as angrily as he could, "I said, get out!" he gets up from the floor. "All of you!"

"Mortimer, stop –" Draco pleads, his worry increases when Mortimer continues to shout at them.

"Are you deaf?" Mortimer pushes Lavender out. "Get out!"

"I know you must be terribly confused," His hands out, placating a motion meant to grab his attention. Whoever this man was, Mortimer did not want to hear. "But you have to listen…"

Both the shabby man and Draco took a step back, trying to calm a heavy breathing Mortimer down. That mistake alone gave him the opportunity to wrench the door shut.

Leaving them stranded, they were unsure of what to do, where to go.

They were simply in shock.

The train's corridor was long and silent, a forming crowd of curious students stood back, their heads poking out. From behind the door, Draco could hear Mortimer curse, his tone was full of anger and hurt.

He didn't know how long he had been listening until he felt a hand on his shoulders. Turning his neck, the new defense professor, Remus Lupin had spoken, sounding consulting. "It'd be best if you go join the other's – He probably needs time to collect."

Amid worries about what Mortimer might do alone, Draco refuses. Sending the professor a glare, Lupin doesn't force him and eventually leaves him alone to face Mortimer, who began to make small noises.

Others might've not been aware, but Draco knew very well that those strange noises was his cousin talking in parseltongue.

"Mortimer?" Draco muttered under his breath, trying to reassure Mortimer everything was fine. Still, he could hear him going silent before shifting around. "Everyone's left."

There was a pause, listening as footsteps grew closer. The doors open, exposing Mortimer's shaken, weakened face. He doesn't say anything, merely offers Draco entrance towards the compartment.

His body appeared to aching, the way his muscles clenched together, as if in protest, there was obvious weight of hopelessness in his frame. Staring at the empty space, a reptile head pokes out from his shirt. Fascinating to see the creature attempt to comfort his master, and yet was unsuccessful when it brushed aside from Mortimer's distracted hand.

An outstretched stillness, there were no words that could describe the kind of strained ether around the compartment.

"I hear her." Mortimer said quietly, smiling at the humor of his own humiliation.

Sitting across from him, Draco didn't need further explaining to know who he was referring to. What little comfort he could, Draco only nods. "A side effect."

"Of?"

Draco's expression hardened. "You were attacked by a dementor."

"A dementor?" Tilting his head, Mortimer's voice cracked, asking. "What's a dementor doing here?"

"Probably looking for Sirius Black." Draco responded, observing as his cousin fiddled with his fingers. "Are you ok?"

Nodding, Mortimer began to rubbing his eyes.

"What happened?"

Fighting against his urge to resist, Mortimer appreciated Draco's patience as he sat back waiting. A conversation he was prepared for. And as he explained, he felt something within, something vile, it made him feel dirty.

Without going too much into detail, Mortimer let a sigh. He began to explain to Draco about the summer.

Setting a side of the dementor attack for a moment, he went on to tell him about the night he ran away.

What Lucius had planned to do, along with a few other wizards. How Mortimer had panicked at the moment and foolishly acted. Running away, thinking it would solve the problem. He'd be kidding himself if he ever thought it would work in his favor. Seeing that now, Mortimer was embarrassed for having to go through with that. More so, when Draco made a face, one that was filled with doubt.

And while Draco didn't offer any kind of rebuttal, he knew it was useless to persuade him. Time and time and again, it blatantly obvious that he'd have a hard time believing that Lucius was capable of such actions. That maybe Mortimer was overthinking and misheard their intentions.

"That can't be true." Draco in denial, responds. "My father wouldn't do that. It isn't like him to follow."

There's many things he could say to refute that, but stopped himself from so. He felt very tired that he didn't see a point in continuing.

"Listen -" Draco began, but then halted once he notices his sick state. "Are you going to be ok?"

Mortimer's eyes felt very heavy, he closes them for a while.

"Mortimer." Draco voice calls to him.

"Excuse me while I pass out. . ." Mortimer softly spoke.

Blinking one last time, he lost consciousness, fog clouding his vision, he hears his name being called again.

He tried keeping his eyes open, though, it was useless at this point. They fluttered closed, weakly, his head throbbed. Hearing the same voices again, Mortimer finally gives into the darkness.