32 – Blaise's Farewell
After the end of the meeting, Draco felt Ginevra's eyes on him and, putting the thousand sensations they caused into uninhabited places of his mind, he approached his mother, who was being led out of the room by Mrs. Weasley. Draco took the chance to follow them, moving as far away as he could from all those Weasleys gathered together.
When they are far enough from anyone else, Molly sighed heavily, looking at Narcissa with a mix of shame and objectivity.
"Narcissa, on behalf of my daughter, I truly apologise. I love Ginny with all my strength, but I'm not blind to see that there's no excuse for what she's done. That's not the values we taught her and I'm sorry."
Narcissa was quiet for an instant as if she were measuring her words and suddenly Draco was very curious to know what his mother thought about the whole situation.
"She's a mother, Molly. A mother living in times of war." That was all what Narcissa said.
Molly nodded silently accepting that as an absolute truth and the two women looked intently at each other. Suddenly, Draco felt totally excluded from that conversation. It seems they were talking a different, mute language that Draco had no access to or knew how to interpret – the language of the mothers. They needed no words anymore.
They walked in silence to a corridor on the third floor and, following Molly Weasley's quick steps, Draco couldn't help but be surprised at that woman's energy and compare it to the proud, elegant walk of his own mother.
He sighed discreetly.
Comparing his reality to Ginevra's always led to only one result: a stark, brutal difference.
Pulling Draco out of his thoughts, Molly stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway and opened an ugly old door, which led to an even uglier room.
"This is your room, Narcissa. Last night it wasn't possible to prepare one just for you, but I think sleeping in Luna's room for one night wasn't a problem." She spoke more informally now that they had gotten past the elephant in the room, giving way to Narcissa and then to Draco.
Despite the tense situation, Draco barely managed not to laugh when he thought of his mother as Luna Lovegood's roommate, even for one night.
Narcissa turned to him.
"Something funny, Draco?" She asked coldly and Draco remembered an old childhood suspicion that his mother was a Legilimens and had never told anyone about it.
"Nothing at all, mother." He responded formally and swallowed the laugh that threatened to come more strongly into his mouth. "I was just distracted."
"Children, eh." Molly winked knowingly at Narcissa – who continued with her blank expression – forgetting that Draco was her children's age and had long since passed childhood. "Well, I think you will find everything you need here, but if there's anything else you want, you can come to me without thinking twice. I'm gonna try to help you as much as I can."
Despite the kind offer, Draco could not help but look in disgust at the plain surroundings around him, his brow furrowed as if the furniture was going to come to life to bite him.
"Thank you, Molly." Narcissa responded with distant politeness as she scanned the bed. Then, she snapped her fingers and, a second later, Edril materialised beside her. "Now I believe I have everything I need." And a quick smile crossed her lips.
How had he not remembered the elf? Draco thought, torn between despair and relief. If Voldemort had managed to imprison Edril... He felt an uncomfortable shiver run down his spine.
He almost kissed his mother on the forehead in gratitude. Then he had to suppress another smile as he imagined how she would react to that.
"Mistress." Edril bowed obediently to Narcissa. "Edril went into hiding as he was ordered."
"Very well." Narcissa said in a condescending tone that surprised Draco and she waved her hand elegantly. Edril interpreted that as his cue to rearrange the furniture in a way that pleased his mistress.
Seeing that she had nothing else to do there, Molly prepared to leave while Narcissa surveyed the simple room with her traditional rigor.
Draco took a deep breath.
It was now or never.
"Mrs. Weasley." He swallowed when Molly turned his brown eyes on him, so much like Ginevra's. "Could please you tell me where I'm going to stay?"
She looked at him as if he had said something wrong and Draco hated that. In fact, Draco hated words in general. And he hated even more the words who left him embarrassed.
"Didn't Ginny tell you where she's going to sleep?" Molly asked curiously.
"No." His voice sounded firmer this time and he prevented it from drawling too much. "Actually, I'd rather stay in a separate place..." Narcissa turned to look at him curiously and he continued talking, ignoring his mother. "It was like that at the Manor as well and I've never shared a bedroom with anyone and-"
Why was he justifying himself, anyway?
"It's okay, Draco." Molly interrupted him gently. "We always have extra rooms for those in need."
He agreed with relief, even given the fact that Ginny's mother used his first name, with such... familiarity, as well as looking at him in that knowing way that irritated him to no end.
Before leaving, Molly turned once more to Draco's mother. "Narcissa, I'm so sorry." And Draco did not know if it was because of the room, the situation, Bellatrix or the war.
"As we all are, Molly." Narcissa sighed tiredly, accepting Molly's apologies once again. "All of us."
When she left closing the door behind her in a silent farewell, Narcissa sat in the armchair that Edril had obediently cleaned.
"Care to explain what was that?" She asked, raising an irritating eyebrow at Draco.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame of the adjoining small bathroom, a clearly interrogative expression on his face. "Are you referring to...?"
Narcissa sighed like she was disappointed she had given birth to such an idiot. "I've not spent nine months of my life pregnant with an obtuse son, Draco."
"Certainly not." Draco agreed.
"Then you don't need to behave like one."
Her impatient tone defused his arrogant stance. He remembered the time when she had been quieter, more patient, as if it were centuries ago. In any case, it did not surprise him that stressful situations brought out his mother's bad temper. It happened to him too.
They had the Black's blood after all.
"Please, tell me you'll not give me a lecture about my sleeping arrangements when I'm long past the age of needing to be scolded by my mother."
"That has nothing to do with your choices of bedroom." Narcissa lips thinned annoyedly. "And I shall remind you that, as your mother, I may still provide you advice whenever I see fit."
"And what advice are you aching to bestow upon me, mother?" Draco asked with more sarcasm than it would be wise.
"Keeping Ginevra at arm's length is not going to fix your problems."
Rather than offending his mother with an eye roll and inclined to maintain his safety, Draco waited silently for her to continue.
"As you already noticed, I'm referring to the request you just made to Ginevra's mother. It's understandable that you present this behaviour at the Manor, your house, but here... It only adds impetus to those who think you two aren't really together."
"And we aren't."
"No? I didn't get that impression from the way Ginevra looks at you..." She brushed casually an invisible dust from her crumpled cloak. "And, especially, from the way you react when she gets close to Potter."
Draco straightened up as if he had physically felt the venom of his mother's affirmation.
"Mother, she blackmailed me!" He said with a tone most closest to the didactic that he managed to muster. "With the memories in which you appeared. You should be the first one to want me to stay away from her. Besides, she's poor and a blood traitor." He recognised internally the childishness of his reason, but moved on with it nonetheless.
"We have no access to a sickle and we're clearly betraying the ideals of blood purity." Narcissa had a small sneer on her pale lips. "Looks like we're not in such a dissimilar situation then."
A silence fell over them and Draco felt the bitter taste of being on the same side of those he had despised his entire life.
"Yes, you may have a point there." He responded by biting the inside of his cheek, eyes downcast.
Narcissa watched the hesitant reaction closely and sighed sadly, finally exposing her motherly side.
"Dearest, you have learned to protect and shield your feelings so well that you're afraid to let yourself know them fully. You're not like that."
However, what his mother was saying was not as simple as she implied. Being surrounded by monsters and liars his entire life had forced Draco to pretend to be many different versions of himself in order to survive. It was natural to think that since that he no longer had Voldemort to contend with, he could be free and be the person his mother believed him to be, but the truth was that he had layered on mask after mask throughout the years and even himself didn't know what type of person he'd be without them.
"Is there anything you want to make me see specifically, Mother?" Draco ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that indicated nervousness and that would certainly be worthy of censure on her part in another conversation. "Because I'm afraid your subtlety and half-words aren't succeeding."
He was fully aware that the sentence came out more petulant than would be recommended for his mother and, added to the previous display of emotional lack of control, Draco expected the inexorable criticism.
Nothing came from Narcissa.
The two remained immersed in their own thoughts, until Narcissa broke the silence after a moment.
"You know, Draco, in ordinary situations, I'd say that you tainted both Malfoys and Blacks names by bringing this woman into our families. A woman who came from a muggle lover family and who was able to do what she did. I'd say that you should have resisted the blackmail, gotten rid of her one way or another. I'd undertake a journey myself to ensure that her life was miserable. I'd say that behaving like a teenager in love is unacceptable-"
"I'm not in love!" Draco straightened up, not even waiting for his mother to finish talking.
" – but this is not an ordinary situation, far from it." Narcissa continued coldly, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Nor am I the same woman I was a few years ago."
"No, you're not." Draco agreed venomously, still sullen about his mother's assumptions.
"The only thing I can tell you for sure is that I'd give every sickle of my money, every minute of life I have left, to have one more moment with your father, one more moment with the image of him saying goodbye to me with affection, another moment without living with..." She clenched her fists in her lap, unable to summon the word easily. "With the guilt."
Narcissa did not need to finish. Completely forgetting his rebellion, Draco uncrossed his arms and went to her, wrapping her fragile shoulders in a rare and affectionate hug, rubbing his hands over his mother's cold forearms as if in this way he could pass on something that was already rare for himself: human warmth.
"Mother, don't go this way." Draco whispered, at the same time astonished and scared at the display of fragility from this woman who was his symbol of strength.
"Not everything turned out as I had wanted." She sighed and continued speaking, resting her hand on Draco's light hair. "I made a risky bet on a chance, on a possibility. And I lost."
"Not having bet would have meant an even worse fate for our family." Draco gently squeezed Narcissa's shoulders, trying to comfort her, take her thoughts away from that direction. "You did what you needed to, to give us a better life, away from things that made us suffer."
"Yes, I did what was necessary. But to do so, I ignored my ideals, centuries-old traditions, and even my blood ties to my sister, all in the name of protecting you and Lucius." She closed her eyes briefly and the image of the frail, unbalanced woman from St. Mungo's flashed across her tired face. "What I'm trying to ask you, Draco, is will you be able to do the same. Will you be able to let go of everything you grew up with, everything Ginevra is and represents, everything that makes you two as opposite as fire and ice, in the name of what you love?"
Narcissa looked at him with her piercing blue eyes and Draco didn't know how to react.
"I really don't know, mum." It was the only thing he could say.
"That's ok, my love." Narcissa patted his hair, bringing his head into her lap. "I'll be here for you, whatever you decide to do. Whatever you can do."
And not for the first time, Draco had the feeling that he would never be as brave as his mother.
Not my son, please no.
Ginny sought Draco's eyes as he left the room with Narcissa and her mother, but he had retreated into his own thoughts again. She felt the urge to throw herself into his arms, feeling so fragile after the day's discoveries, but he was running away.
And you were expecting Draco Malfoy to react differently than running away, huh?, she thought wistfully.
People passed by her, welcoming her and saying words of comfort for what everyone had just heard. But her mind was distant, as if someone else had taken her place and she was observing the scene from afar.
Not my son, please no.
She was stunned by the revelation of the prophecy. She had been protected for years by Voldemort's mistake... She shuddered to think that if he had known it from the beginning, she probably wouldn't be there, with her family, in relative safety...
It was as if she was in a nightmare – her worst nightmare – where Voldemort was after her son, ready to suck the life out of his young body.
Not my son, please no.
She felt his eyes burning and fought to hold back the tears.
She just wished she could hug James, protect him from everything…
Harry walked past her, hugging her gently and interrupting her desperate thoughts.
"Gin, can I talk to you later?" He asked and she barely realised that she had nodded in agreement until he kissed her on the forehead and left her there, trapped in a tangle of thoughts.
She would not think about it now.
Her son was safe.
If Voldemort wanted to get to James, he would have first to go through her, through her entire family, through Draco and Harry. All the people he had been unable to defeat or kill during the last twenty-five years.
Her fortress lay in the people she loved. That was it, they would help to protect her son. She looked around to make sure she was still in the same place. Safe.
It was only then that she realised she wasn't alone in the room.
Blaise was staring at her with his unreadable expression. She scratched her eyes to keep the tears from rolling again, feeling even more secure.
Blaise was also her fortress after all.
"I didn't want to interrupt your thoughts," he said introspectively, opening and closing his right hand in a gesture that betrayed his desire to hold something. A glass, probably.
The real Blaise, Ginny thought to herself before answering.
"There was no pleasant thoughts though, you can be sure you wouldn't be a bother." Ginny said softly, sitting closer to him. "I guess I owe my life and that of my children to you, then." She smiled weakly, trying to focus on something other than the revelations she had been bombarded with over the past two days.
Blaise shrugged and smirked, putting on the mask he wore to deal with the world. "I couldn't resist and had to save the damsel in distress."
He was downplaying the fact, but she knew what that had meant to him, she knew that now he would also be persecuted, hunted. Voldemort would soon wipe off the map anyone who could help Draco in any way.
"Blaise, thank you. I'll never be able to repay the debt I owe you." She insisted.
He simply made a careless gesture with his hand, as if this had been a mishap in the middle of a holiday trip.
"Don't do that." Ginny's eyes flashed with barely contained ferocity and when he looked at her with a questioning expression, she added. "Don't act dismissively. We both know what this help will cost you."
A weak smile - but truer than the previous ones - crossed Zabini's pretty lips. "I think I always knew that eventually I'd have to take sides at some point; I just put it off as long as I could."
"Only Merlin know how much you avoided this." Ginny smiled at him and the memory of an enigmatic seventeen-year-old elegantly dressed for a ball invaded her mind.
"At least I compromise for a good cause." He became more thoughtful, as if he had finally resigned himself to reaching that conclusion.
For me...?, Ginny thought worrying her lips.
Oblivious to it, Blaise went on. "Anyways, the one who really lost everything was Draco; he sacrificed everything so I could save you, he took a risk in the middle of his escape to warn me. Perhaps it is to him that your gratitude should go first."
Ginny knew that. And her heart ached to see how Draco had rejected any of her approaches.
"I... I tried to get close to him... But he's aloof, strange... Like I don't mean anything." The words came out with difficulty and she felt her voice crack. "We were fine, I mean, as fine as we could be… But now…" she was fully aware that she was stuttering, but she could not help it.
Blaise looked at her seriously. Then his lips curved imperceptibly upward in a silent smile. After a moment, his breathing began to become ragged, and the next moment, he was laughing.
Ginny gaped at him.
Blaise Zabini is bloody cackling, Ginny thought in amazement, ok, now I can say I've seen it all in life.
It was the first time she had seen Blaise laughing like that, with so much... soul. It was such a melodious and mesmerising sound that Ginny seriously thought about advising Blaise to do that more often.
It took a moment before he could compose himself.
"You know, you two really deserve each other. I've never had the displeasure of meeting two people as stubborn and blind as you."
"Should I feel praised?" Ginny straightened up, feeling her temper light up. She had said the things that were in her heart and Blaise reacted like that!
"Relax, Redhead." He said barely containing another wave of laughter. "I'm just giving you another little push."
"Don't you dare, Blaise Zabini!" Ginny raised her index finger threateningly at him. "Last time, I ended up with a reputation for being a cheater and Draco in jail! You too, by the way!"
"Indeed we did, it was kind of funny actually, not going to lie." With some effort, Blaise pulled himself together and made a conciliatory gesture with his hand to appease Ginny. "You force me to say the obvious, Redhead. I've known Draco since we were born. Well, since he was born, since I'm older - and more charismatic and handsome, although he is richer. Just a bit though."
Ginny rolled her eyes and Blaise continued after grimacing slightly at the admission of something where Draco was better than him.
"And I know when he's smitten. Believe me, he's got it bad."
"Really?"
"Yes. And Draco is jealous. Of you and Potter. Of your family, Of your old life."
"I didn't give any reason for him to feel that way." Ginny crossed her arms defensively.
"That's up for debate." Blaise looked at her intensely, containing another smile, this time more unpleasant. "But the truth is that he didn't even need a reason. All Draco Malfoy has tried to do in life is hide his absurdly great insecurity behind a snobbish, dismissive, superior facade. And this whole situation is making his insecure side come out with full force. He's just scared, that cowardly bastard."
Ginny opened her mouth and closed it a few times, unable to respond. How could Blaise understand Draco with that depth while she fought real battles just to grasp what he meant between the lines? Yes, because with Draco everything should be understood from his small demonstrations of thoughts, of feelings. Even in their most... intimate moments, she had to capture what he was feeling through gestures and reactions, never words.
Ginny felt her cheeks grow hot as she particularly remembered those moments. So she preferred to change the subject and Blaise smiled, seeming to read her thoughts.
"And now? Will you stay with us too? You know you're very welcome to."
"I appreciate the hospitality, but no." Blaise shook his head, showing tiredness for the first time. "Now that Draco's story has proven true, I'm free to go. I'm just here to say goodbye to you two and my godson."
"If you're sure this is what you want..." Ginny twisted her hands in her lap, fearing what would await Blaise outside.
"I'm tired of wars, instability, threats. I've had my share of all of this over the past few years. I'll go back to Italy, maybe. Or go to Brazil, who knows. Any place with a warm weather that is not prone to conflict."
Ginny smiled at her friend. "You'll be the envied by half of England, I'm sure."
They faced each other comfortably, lost in their own perspectives on the future. The idea of letting Blaise go made Ginny apprehensive, but at the same time, asking him to stay longer – and consequently to definitively choose a side – would only deprive him of two of the things he loved most: his independence and freedom. It would be like imprisoning a rare bird, only to watch it wither and lose its charm.
Then, seeing one last opportunity, Ginny cleared her throat, trying to broach a subject that, covertly, begged to be clarified. She had always wanted to, but had never mustered up the courage to do so.
"Blaise, about that night, at Hogwarts…" She gently drew his attention to herself. "When you and Draco duelled."
"Yes?" Blaise fixed his dark eyes on her, filled with a feeling that she could not quite identify. A mixture of sadness, expectation and exasperation that squeezed her heart.
"The things you told me, I—" She brought her hand to her chest as if she could still feel remnants of his touch. "I—"
"Redhead, do a favor to us both," Blaise interrupted her with a gentle gesture. "You won't sincerely believe the words of a drunk man, will you?" A mocking smile passed over his face and Ginny did not know how to react.
Without waiting, he stood up gracefully, kissed her hand and, looking down at her with a glint of mischief in his dark eyes, he finished with his mouth still too close to her hand.
"And even if the words were true, I'm happier this way. I would hate being attached to anything, even if that thing was as lovely as you are."
"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed, not knowing what to say.
"Be careful, Ginny." Blaise said as he released her hand. "Losing you once when I thought you died with your family was awful enough. I don't want to lose you again."
And with that, he turned and left, choosing to walk out of her and Draco's lives.
Yes, I painfully believe in the words of a drunk man, Ginny thought, closing her eyes and sighing sadly.
Draco crossed paths with Blaise in a hallway as he was heading towards the beach, in one of the only places in that hellish place where there was no overwhelming noise and he did not have to try his hardest not to cover his ears and throw himself under the nearest table to escape the crowds.
That would not be a very Malfoy attitude after all.
I'm almost sighing with longing for Malfoy Manor and I've only been away from it for two days, he thought sourly as he walked over to his friend.
"I'm going back to London now." Blaise got straight to the point when Draco stopped next to him.
"I suppose this is the time I say I'm really jealous of you." Draco responded and walked again, this time more slowly, indicating that Blaise could keep up with him.
And so he did.
"I was told something similar just now. You people lack creativity." Blaise said mockingly. "What are you thinking about doing?"
"I swear to Salazar I have no fucking idea." Draco replied introspectively without looking at his friend. "But I'm beginning to wonder if the muggle monks are up to something. Women are nice and very enjoyable, but I question whether they were quite worth the bother."
Blaise laughed. "That's why my mood changes, mate. When the females are too overwhelming, I always can relish in males' arms. It's quite refreshing – and safer."
Draco nodded in understanding. "It does make sense."
Then Blaise's eyes wandered to Draco's right arm and paused there for a moment, when Zabini seemed to have remembered something. "I don't think I ever apologised for that cutting spell."
"Don't worry." Draco smiled arrogantly and irritatingly. "I let you hit me."
Blaise nodded as if he didn't mind – or was too used to – Draco boasting about the things he did, whether they were true or not.
Despite the lack of seriousness in the response, silence prevailed once again, all the tension of the situation permeating the interaction between them. Until Draco sighed and spoke again.
"You know he's going to come after you, don't you? That you won't be able to stay in England, or anywhere even remotely close to the United Kingdom."
There was no need to specify who 'he' was and Draco stared at Blaise, as if he wanted his friend to understand his point.
"I could stay here." Blaise shrugged, flashing his signature half-smile.
"Of course." Malfoy sneered skeptically. "Without luxuries, prestige, power, influence. It's really your style, how had I not noticed it before?" It was Draco's turn to smirk. "In fact, even if I wasn't obliged to do so, I'd certainly also choose to stay here."
"That's the problem with childhood friends." Blaise just looked at him with an amused expression, sighing dramatically. "They know us long enough to make –correct – assumptions about our behaviors."
"Yes, Blaise, what a curse, I do know you."
"And so do I, Draco."
After a moment where they both collected scattered and pleasant memories of more than twenty-five years of coexistence smiling at each other, Draco forced himself to speak.
"Listen…" He swallowed hard and forced the words to obey his wishes. "Thank you for saving my family. Without you, we'd all be doomed. Not that we're in a much different situation now," he shrugged cynically, "but at least we've got extra time."
"And here I thought I had seen many things in my life." Blaise broke into a big smile. "But never a Malfoy sincerely thanking someone for something."
"I'm not used to having things I didn't pay for. And if I paid, I don't need to be grateful for them." Draco justified himself coldly.
"It seems reasonable to me." Blaise agreed and Draco did not know if he was being sincere or mocking him.
"However," Draco resumed, ignoring the dubious tone of Blaise's sentence. "I didn't pay for your loyalty, and for that, I am grateful."
"I did what I had to do." Blaise shrugged as if there had been no other choice for him. "For you, who was always my best friend, even when you were hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle sniffing your pale arse. And I did it for her." He finished with the enigmatic expression that Draco knew so well, the true expression on Blaise's face.
"You know what, Blaise?" Draco smirked coldly, too much to cover up a spark of jealousy that invaded him. "For a Slytherin, you're particularly too direct."
Blaise did not hesitate for a second before answering. "Maybe because, like I said, you know me too well to notice when and what I'm lying about. Being honest is just a way of giving you the information I want, without having to watch you struggle with words to play my game. You're really not good with them."
Draco's eyes narrowed and all that appeared in their place were two dangerous grey slits. "I'm in your debt, Zabini, but that doesn't mean I appreciate your insolence."
Blaise looked at him amused. "You forget that I held your head so you could puke after drinking gallons of firewhisky at Hogwarts. After that, it's impossible to take your threats seriously."
"Blaise-" Draco hissed through clenched teeth in a warning tone.
"Consider we're even now." Zabini replied introspectively and Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly. Blaise, in turn, understood the silent question. "That night at Hogwarts all those years ago, at that ridiculous ball, I could've told her that you were looking for her, but I haven't."
"Why?!" Draco flinched before he could stop himself, feeling a stinging of hurt in the chest.
"For a reason that I don't quite like." Blaise replied with clenched jaw. "Because, for some moments of my life, I wished for something different than what I had planned for myself. And on those rare occasions, letting feelings guide my actions was a mistake."
Draco did not answer anything - feeling a rare mix of hurt and empathy -, thinking about the implications of that attitude.
"Maybe things would've been different between you two if I hadn't kept the information to myself." Blaise thought out loud.
Draco thought it best not to delve further into Blaise's motive and made a dissuading gesture, despite the undeniable sadness and thoughts of 'what if...' that also invaded his mind.
"It doesn't matter, Blaise." He responded impassively. "It wouldn't have been any different. It's not any different now."
Blaise stopped, making Draco also stop in his tracks. Malfoy searched his friend's eyes and suddenly he felt extremely uncomfortable under the scrutiny of those dark, penetrating eyes.
"I'm surprised at how stupid you can be sometimes. I think Goyle's company for so many years must have caused some permanent damage to your brain."
When Draco started to respond with something rude, Blaise interrupted him.
"Listen to me, Draco, and listen well. You're like the brother I've never had and you'll always be - much to my eternal disgust - but that doesn't stop me from saying something to you: take good care of her and admit how you feel, because if you don't, I inevitably will, even though I know it'd be the biggest mistake of my life."
"You-" Draco started, thinking of a way to simultaneously deny Blaise's words, laugh at him and hex him painfully, but was interrupted once again.
Suddenly, Blaise approached Draco and hugged him tightly, completely disarming him.
"Good luck, Draco." Blaise said, his voice muffled by his friend's hair, always longer than would be socially appreciated. "I've never asked you for anything before, nor have I charged for anything I've done for you. However, I'll indulge myself right now."
Draco suddenly went still, completely unaccustomed to displays of affection, especially from an equal. Especially from Blaise.
He tried to recall the last time he had even touched Blaise, but the memories were lost in his childhood years, between games and teasing in the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
"You wouldn't be Blaise Zabini if you never demanded anything in return for what you do." Draco tried to relax and felt more than saw Blaise smiling, much more comfortable with that - absence of - physical distance between them than he was.
"Do me a single favor, will you?" Blaise's voice returned to its usual constant tone, very close to Draco's ear.
"Which favour?" Draco whispered in response.
"Survive."
They were silent until Draco finally returned Blaise's hug, clinging to him as if he was clinging to the last remnant of his old life, of normality.
Blaise was also his fortress after all.
"I've been doing this for eight years." Was all Draco could say after a moment, trying to keep his voice from shaking because of the closeness, of the goodbye, the radical changes that accumulated as the days passed. "I don't intend to change tactics anytime soon."
Once again, he could feel when Blaise nodded, seeming to cling to his friend's wish of good luck, knowing that this was what he would need most, to deal with the Resistance, with the loss of everything, with his friend's absence. To deal with Ginevra.
As Blaise turned away to leave, Draco called out to him again.
"And Zabini." He said in his most arrogant voice as soon as Blaise turned completely towards him. "It's not the strongest who survives. Or the bravest, no matter how much they say otherwise in this fucking place."
Blaise smiled widely, understanding exactly what Draco was getting at. He always understood.
"Nor even the smartest." Blaise continued his reasoning.
Draco agreed. "But rather the one that best adapts to changes."
Blaise raised a glass - imaginary - to make a toast - also imaginary - to that idea. "The world belongs to Slytherins!"
"Cheers!" Draco smiled and imitated the gesture, dismissing the feeling that this was the last time he would see his friend.
Not every goodbye had to be eternal after all.