"My mission was clear, I was to kill Albus Dumbledore, by any means possible."
Theodore closed the notebook and remained motionless, staring at his hands, for a few long minutes. He had just spent the last two hours reading the first part of Draco's story. He had received it by owl during the day and immediately settled down on the library balcony to read it.
His heart was pounding in his chest and he had a headache. His hands were tingling from how tightly his fingers were gripping around the notebook, so much that they ached. And above all, he felt crushed. Crushed with everything he'd learnt from reading his best friend's words. Heavy from all this suffering and all these revelations.
He had believed he knew everything about what Draco had gone through before his sixth year. He had thought he was close enough to him to know everything about his life. He knew nothing. Nothing at all.
He blamed himself for not having seen any of it, too focused on his own father. Theo had spent his school years withdrawn, receiving letters from his father threatening to hurt his mother if he didn't behave properly. He had been brought up to be a perfect copy of Nott Sr, a man of obvious cruelty and madness.
But he had been lucky enough to have no one but his father to torment him. He had never been pushed into anything other than threats, which he knew were real. Theodore had never cast an Unforgivable and had never received one either. His mother endured everything for him. That was how she lost her life, under her husband's spells.
He had been marked much later than Draco, only a few days before the Final Battle. Before that, he had managed to stay hidden at Hogwarts long enough for his father to think he was dead. Until one of the Carrow twins spotted him in a corridor. He had been forced into Nott Manor and marked within hours. His father had not cast a single spell on him. His mother died that very evening.
He returned to Hogwarts on the day of the Final Battle. He had seen Harry there for the last time. He remembered he was still suffering from his Mark on that day, that he barely fought, unable to raise his left hand to defend himself. He had hidden, cowardly. Harry had found him and, for a few minutes, Theo had been hopeful that things would turn out well for him, that Harry would be able to protect him.
That was the last time he'd seen him.
"Master? Master, are you all right?"
Theo turned abruptly to Satine, who was watching him with a worried look a few metres away. She looked defeated, terrified and looked at him with big eyes full of tears.
He then realised that his own cheeks were covered in them. He had been crying silently for a few minutes without noticing. Draco's words were still imprinted on his mind. He remembered his sentences, paragraphs full of pain, yet hidden behind an objective, neutral tone. It was destructive.
He quickly wiped his cheekbones with the cuff of his sleeve and jumped to his feet, Draco's notebook clutched to his chest.
"Everything's fine, Satine," he reassured her at once. "I've just... It's my allergies, with the spring, the pollen, my eyes are crying on their own."
She didn't seem convinced, but nodded all the same. She swayed from one foot to the other.
"Would you like something, Master? Satine can bring you tea, or a hot chocolate, like when you were a child, Master!"
He jumped back in time with that simple phrase. He remembered all the times his elf had brought him hot drinks in the evening, after dinners full of admonishments and drunken shouts from his father. It was his way of finding comfort.
Further proof that she wouldn't believe his pollen excuse.
"Gladly," he replied then with a slight smile. "Bring it to the studio, I'm going to be busy for a long time."
She vanished after nodding and Theo allowed himself to blow out all the air he had trapped in his chest. The moment he'd been waiting weeks for was finally here: he would finally start his illustrations and make his project even more tangible.
He spent the rest of the day locked away in his studio. He sat on the floor and took out piles of paper to start his sketches, the first drafts of his drawings. There were rough notes and sketches everywhere when night fell. He had colour marks on his clothes, graphite on his fingers and a considerable backache, but his plan was ready. He knew what he would illustrate, which passages, which moments in life. Everything was ready.
Later, when Harry returned from Britain and they went upstairs to bed, Theo hugged his husband a little tighter. Things were moving on, he knew.
And yet he felt this need to have his husband against him, to be reassured and cuddled. He had gone over his past so many times during the day that he needed it. Harry hugged him back and he fell peacefully asleep, more serene. It felt right.
oOo
"Draco?"
He looked up from his novel and frowned as he saw Hermione standing in the doorway of the library, looking embarrassed. Something was bothering her, he could see it in her eyes and her posture.
He had been sitting in an armchair for about an hour and was reading the book Hermione had brought him the day before. It was a novel about loneliness and fear. It took place in Romania and he had to admit that the detailed and vivid descriptions of the landscapes felt like something out of a dream.
"Will you help me wash Albert?" she asked with a pleading pout on her lips.
He smiled as he closed his book before crossing his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, inwardly amused. He had been afraid for a few moments that something serious had happened. He was inwardly amused and raised an eyebrow.
"Can't you do it on your own?" he asked defiantly.
She rolled her eyes and walked over to him. She stopped just before their knees touched. Draco could feel the warmth of her body next to his. It felt right.
"I've had a big day," she replied, biting her lower lip. "And Albert rolled around in the mud on the way home."
"What'll I get in return?" he smirked as he teased with his eyebrows.
She gently slapped his arm and he pretended to be in pain. She laughed when she spoke again. It felt soft.
"My eternal gratitude?" she suggested, stepping forward until she was between his legs.
"Um, I need to think. The offer doesn't seem good enough."
"I'll take care of dinner," she added, rolling her eyes with a smile.
"And end up poisoned? I knew you didn't care for me, but to openly intoxicate your husband, I didn't think you were like that, Hermione!"
Her face went from laughter to surprise, and for a few seconds, Draco thought he had gone too far. He shouldn't have said that, he shouldn't have made that joke. It was too much. She was going to be angry with him. It was all over.
"Idiot," she finally laughed, before hitting his arm a second time. "Come and help me, please."
She gave him that adorable pout he couldn't resist. He sighed theatrically and finally stood up. Only a few centimetres separated them.
"You owe me one, Granger, especially if I get my clothes dirty."
She simply kissed him on the cheek as her only answer, before running out of the library without stopping laughing. He could hear it echoing throughout the house. It was so pleasant. He followed her, shaking his head. He was so weak when it came to her.
She had left Albert outside and prepared everything they needed to wash him. His coat had turned from white to brown, even black in some places, and Draco winced as he realised how long it would take them. Some of the dirt seemed to be embedded in the fur.
There was a large basin of soapy water and a hose ready for use. Albert was running across the grass, still soaked from the downpour in the morning, and Hermione had to call to him several times before he finally decided to join them.
"Sit down, Albert," she asked him, turning on the tap to let the water run. "I think we're going to need two or three washes before he's really clean. I don't want him coming into the house with any dirt on him at all."
"I didn't think you were the fastidious type," Draco said from the other end of the hose, starting to wet the dog. "You, who always leave your things lying around."
She made an outraged face and sprayed him with soapy water, just as she was about to take care of Albert.
"Hey! I'm not the one you're supposed to wash!"
"You deserved it," she retorted, puerilely sticking her tongue out at him.
He glared at her, even though he knew her anger was unconvincing. He was tempted to aim the hose at her, but restrained himself, knowing that it would only get out of hand and that they would end up forgetting Albert.
However, after two rather successful washes, he couldn't resist the temptation. Hermione had been quiet for a few minutes, it was almost too peaceful. As she was brushing Albert's belly, who was barking happily, Draco changed the direction of the hose and Hermione quickly got soaked. She shrieked in surprise and dropped the brush as her dog began to lick her face.
"You– Draco!" she exclaimed, pushing her soaked hair away from her face. "You'll pay for this!"
Draco knew then that she would have his hide and quickly closed the hose, before taking off running. He turned, laughing out loud, and saw that she was following close behind. Her face was flushed and her hair stuck to her cheeks, but he thought she was beautiful.
He felt so right. He laughed out loud, with happiness sparking in his eyes and lightness in his heart.
Hermione ended up jumping on him from behind and they both fell onto the wet grass. He froze, at first shocked by the contact. He hadn't expected her to do that, it was a lot at once. He liked her touch, but wasn't this too much?
He gave himself a few seconds to close his eyes and calm the surge of panic that was gripping his gut. It was Hermione's continuous laughter that helped him to relax. Her giggles were contagious and he quickly joined in. It felt right. It was only Hermione. He was fine. She meant him no harm. Her touch was pleasant, it always was.
"You're under arrest for unlawful sprinkling on an innocent person," she told him with a laugh, straddling his back. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
He couldn't stop laughing. It was too good. Everything was going just right. Even better.
He rolled over in one motion and knocked her off her feet. Then, he straddled her hips and grabbed her hands. They were out of breath, but couldn't stop laughing.
He fixed his gaze on hers. Hermione's cheeks and the tip of her nose were red, she had stars in her eyes and drops of water had dripped from her hair to her forehead. He kept telling himself how beautiful she was. She was beautiful. She was there, in his arms, close to him, just for him. It felt right.
Soon their laughter died away and only their breathing could be heard. Their chests rose rapidly, and they gradually regained their composure. Hermione was smiling, her whole face lit up with joy, and Draco knew it was the same for him. She was looking at him softly, happily. It felt good.
Draco felt butterflies in his stomach. Every time she looked at him like that, he felt his lower stomach warm up and his heart beat go a little faster.
He intertwined their fingers together without taking his eyes off her. It felt so good. He felt as if he'd been living again for weeks, as if all his sensations and emotions had been heightened tenfold.
Eventually, he moved away from her hips and lay down beside her. He no longer cared about getting his clothes dirty or getting his hair wet from the wet grass. It felt right.
Their hands were still entwined and Hermione turned to snuggle against him. She rested her head on his chest and brought their linked hands to his stomach. Silence fell between them. In the distance, Albert barked, probably chasing a bird around the house, or maybe a stray mouse. Draco didn't care. It felt right.
He brushed one of the strands of Hermione's hair away from his face and smiled at her. She smiled back, raising her head just enough for their eyes to meet.
"I've had enough exercise for a whole week," she joked.
Her laugh made both their chests vibrate. It was so nice to have her so close to him.
"You mean you won't be walking with me on Tuesday?" he asked suspiciously, squinting.
"Of course I will!' she replied immediately. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
She rested her chin on Draco's chest to look into his eyes. He placed his palm on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. He traced the shape of her cheekbone with his fingertip down to her lips, outlining them. She was beautiful. He never tired of looking at her.
"Your hands are always warm," she murmured.
"And you're cold," he replied with a smile.
They complemented each other. They didn't need to say it out loud to know it. With a single glance, this fact was established between them. It floated between their two faces, pleasant, intriguing.
Hermione moved forward and placed her lips on Draco's, their chests pressed together and their legs intertwined. Their breaths mingled, it was harmonious. Draco felt like he belonged in her arms.
Sometimes he wondered how things had changed between them. Why she accepted him so closely. And then he pushed these questions to the back of his mind, unwilling to think about them too much. It felt just right. He didn't want to frighten himself unnecessarily by imagining that she might abandon him overnight. He knew he was thinking too much, he knew he was capable of turning everything into a disaster, so he held back, avoiding those thoughts. It was much better this way.
She rested her head on his chest and he put an arm around her shoulders to hold her close.
"I wasn't feeling very well earlier," she whispered confidentially.
He had to prick up his ears to hear her last words. He loved it when she felt good enough to tell him things like that. Draco could feel the goose bumps on her skin as he stroked her arm.
"I don't really know why," she continued, closing her eyes. "I just felt... bad, and anxious. So I told myself that– I told myself that I had to take my mind off it, that I had to spend some time with you to get over it."
"And it worked?" he murmured before kissing her forehead.
He needed to soothe her, to show her that he was there to listen to her, to support her. He knew he had to.
She looked up at him and nodded, a small smile on her lips.
"You made me laugh and smile, even at a time when I didn't want to," she said.
Draco's heart skipped a beat at those words. He shivered, from her statement or from the cold? He had no idea. It didn't matter. It felt right. So right.
oOo
Harry stepped into the entrance hall of the Manor and sent his coat and bags straight into the various cupboards around the house.
The morning had been rather light, unlike what he was used to. He and Blaise hadn't worked for long before they'd been drawn into discussions that had nothing to do with bills or Death Eaters. They had eventually left the study and gone to Blaise's flat to finish their conversation before Harry had to go home.
Harry had warned his colleague that he was expected for lunch, because that day, Ginny had invited her new friend to eat. Rachel.
She talked about her so often that it had become one of the main topics during meals. Rachel this, Rachel that, it made them wonder if Ginny had any other interests.
But Harry wasn't complaining. He was glad to see that his best friend had something else to think other than Astoria, or Molly's repeated letters asking her to come and spend a few days at the Burrow.
She may not have been happy with the odd job she'd found for herself, but that seemed to have become the least of her worries. She and Rachel spent their lunches together and went home together at the end of the day.
However this was the first time Theo and Harry would meet her. Ginny had finally asked their permission to invite her to lunch and they immediately agreed.
Although Harry had expected his husband to refuse at first, he had been pleasantly surprised to see him as happy for her as he was. Harry wouldn't go so far as to say that Theo and Ginny were friends, but he sometimes caught them in deep serious discussions which he never dared to interfere with. Their ménage à trois, no pun intended, was going well.
When he entered the living room, they were all seated on different sofas, glasses of aperitif in their hands and a bowl of olives on the coffee table. They seemed silent, almost embarrassed. The three of them turned their heads as he entered and Harry saw Ginny and Theo's faces suddenly relax.
For the love of Godric, it was a good thing he'd arrived.
"Harry!" exclaimed Ginny, as if she hadn't seen him for years. "Je commençais à croire que tu nous avais oublié!"
He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed, and joined them.
"Sorry, Pansy arrived just as I was about to leave and talked to us for ten long minutes. She was quite upset, actually, so I didn't dare leave," he said quickly as he sat down next to Theo.
He kissed his cheek furtively, then turned to Rachel. The first thing he noticed about her was her eyes. She seemed to know something he didn't. It was disturbing. Unsettling.
"Harry," he introduced himself, holding out a hand over the coffee table.
"Rachel," she smiled, grabbing it.
"What did Pansy want?" Theo asked.
If Harry was surprised that he wasn't using his undeniable talent to speak French, he didn't comment. It seemed to him that the atmosphere between the three of them had been heavy before his arrival.
"Nothing special, and Blaise seemed tired of this topic of conversation. With the anniversary of Daphne's death in September, she's desperate to…"
"What did you say?" Ginny interrupted him abruptly.
Theo and Harry turned their heads towards her. She had paled considerably and was looking at them in confusion.
"What did you just say, Harry?" she asked in a trembling voice.
He glanced at Theo, confused. What was going on?
"With the anniversary of Daphne's death…"
"It's a joke, isn't it?" she cut him off again. "Are you joking, Harry? Huh?"
She was shaking just enough to show it. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Ginny? What's the...?"
"She never told you?" Theo cut her off. "Astoria. She never told you, did she?"
His tone was harsh and he was frowning as if he were angry. Harry didn't know what to say, what to do. Ginny seemed to be in shock.
"Did she?" he repeated almost accusingly.
"What's going on?" Rachel asked worriedly in a broken English.
"She never told you her sister killed herself," Theo eventually said, as if it were the sentence of a prisoner.
Harry saw so much distress in Ginny's eyes that it broke his heart.
"No," she revealed between sobs.