Heya, everyone!
Thanks so much for the lovely reviews I've received lately. It's been so nice to hear from everyone. One plus of this global pandemic is I have plenty of time for writing and I think my writing is better even. Not so rushed like it used to be. Anyways let me know what you think of this chapter.
Much Love 3
Draco's Point of View
The door shuts quietly as I wait in the hallway, wringing my hands together. Lupin told me to wait downstairs but that was highly unlikely. What with half the room staring at me. I sigh, sliding down the wall, preparing myself to wait it out. Granger is in there now with Snape. I wonder how well she will take to having Occulmency performed on her. It's not the most pleasant experience, especially the first time.
In the narrow, barren hallway with only the sound of the rushed, muffled voices downstairs to distract me, I think about what Snape might see in her mind. What way does she remember everything? If she even remembers it all. I know I do. Maybe I might have forgotten the exact shade of her hair colour until I saw her again in the forest but I remember the important things. How could I forget them? My mind wouldn't let me even when I tried, and I did try.
My attention snaps away to a creak sounding on the stairs as Tonks makes her way up the stairwell, her eyes hanging low to the steps. She looks at me under her lashes, pursing her lips together tightly. I look at this woman who I have only known through hushed whispers around coffee tables I was allowed to sit at because I was deemed too young to comprehend. My cousin. How different we look now. My mother rarely spoke about her when I was younger. She climbs the last of the stairs before slipping down against the bannister in front of me. She folds her legs and pulls them tight to her, listening towards the door. When she hears nothing she turns her attention back to me.
"Sorry about all that mess at the house," she starts, with a half-smile.
"You don't know me and I don't know you. It's fair," I say hoping she'll let it drop.
"It was just a little shocking. To see you with her," she adds, prying. I turn my attention to the door. Tonks watches me, her head half tilted at me.
"She'll be okay. She's strong," Tonks suggests.
"I know that I'm just-
"Making sure?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. I'm too tired to argue with her so I choose to say nothing instead.
"What do you want?" I ask, watching her carefully.
"Just to talk, I guess."
"About what?"
"You?"
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little preoccupied right now," I say, grunting. Tonk's lets out a little laugh and I search her face curiously.
"You can relax a little Draco. We're not going to boot you out," she assures me. "Well not tonight anyway," she adds with a small laugh.
"That's reassuring," I taunt.
A small silence emerges as we listen to the sound of Lupin's voice. But against the heavy door, it's just murmurs, indistinguishable.
"Did you really save her life?" Tonks, asks, pulling my attention back to hers. I nod, slowly. Tonks smiles a little at this.
"Bellatrix is dead," I say, figuring she should know. She's her aunt too. Tonk's bites her top lip, mulling this over.
"You know I remember when you were born. It's so vague but I remember going over to the Manor to see you and you were so small bundled up in this hideous green blanket," Tonks muses. I stare at her bizarrely. I didn't realise Tonks and I had ever had any real screen time.
"It was before I left obviously," she explains. "But I used to mind you when our parents were talking. I would sit beside you on the chair when you were just a baby," she describes.
"Why are you saying all this?" I ask, unsure.
"I'm just trying to say that I'm sorry about what happened back there at the house. I know what it's like to leave that family and I shouldn't have reacted that way I was just worried about Hermione and I thought-
"You thought I was going to hurt her?" I imply. Tonk's nods in response.
"I'm not surprised I mean it's what everything thinks isn't it?" I ask.
"I was just so surprised to see you there that I got caught up in the judgement. I know that I shouldn't have because people used to judge me like that too before they got to know me. I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it," I say, shrugging it off. Tonks smiles slightly again, our eyes turning back and forth to the door in the absences of words to say.
"Are you going to stay here?" she asks interestedly. I look her up and down.
"I suppose that's not up to me, now is it?" I reply. She smirks.
"I guess it's not really up to us either," she implies, turning her attention to the door with a self-satisfied, telling expression.
"Hmm?" I question. Tonks laughs, trying to conceal it behind her palm.
"You'll go where she goes, am I right?" she says with an uneven smirk. I roll my eyes at her, pushing up the sleeves of my shirt. She lets out a loud, unguarded laugh.
"You're easy to read sometimes," she explains with a conceited sigh.
"Yeah, and you're annoying sometimes," I argue back, pathetically. She laughs loudly again.
"I get that a lot," she clarifies. Tonks finishes laughing, rubbing her stomach affectionately.
"It will be okay Draco. It will just take some time for others to get used to the idea of you here. Like they got used to the idea of me here," she explains.
"I'm not here to placate anyone else," I shoot back.
"I know that I'm just letting you know. These are good people here."
"There are good people on both sides," I say and Tonks's eyes turn solemnly towards me. I wish I hadn't said it now.
"I know that too," she smiles.
"Because I – like you – came from the other side I know that we don't live in this black and white world. You and I have always been in the grey areas. Blended together, unsure of where to stand. But it does get easier with time, Draco," she says.
I stare at her, marvelling over her slightly clumsy, cheery expression. How can she be so upbeat in this war? Where does she draw it from? I have never really thought about this woman in my entire life and here she sits across from me proving that we are the two most similar people in this house.
"and please don't be angry with Lupin, okay? The month has just ended and he's just finished his cycle two days ago so he's a little bit moodier than usual. He should perk up in a few days," she explains. A fleeting thought enters my head.
"What date is it?" I ask. Tonks purses her lips together in thought.
"It's the fourth today, I think. Why?"
"Fourth of what?"
"June," she says with a curious uneasy chuckle. She watches me, apprehensively.
The door opens suddenly, the sound of it dragging loudly across the door as Lupin steps out, taking in the view of us both huddled across from one another on the floor. He sighs a little, before stepping out of the room.
"Come on," he calls to Tonks. She smiles brightly at me before stepping up from the ground, not before almost falling over her own foot. Lupin catches her and sniggers a little as she rights herself. Lupin stops at the top of the stairwell, turning towards the door as Snape emerges. He glances at me for a moment before turning towards Lupin.
"As we discussed?" Lupin asks.
"Very well," he says, casting a glance at me under his dark lashes.
"What does that mean?" I ask, loudly trying to get their attention.
"Snape is going to go to the Manor," Lupin explains. "To find Harry and Ron," he adds. Snape stands for a moment while Lupin talks and when he finishes he makes his way down the stairs without another word. I hear the front door bang.
I stand up from the ground as Lupin and Tonks disappear downstairs, the noises in the dining room silencing for a moment while they enter. The door shuts, cutting off anything else from them. I walk into the room to find Granger leaning over the armchair. Much like myself earlier. I walk around, leaning on the side of a coffee table while I wait for her to regain herself. She rubs the tips of her fingers across her eyebrows, falling down below her eyes and around again, repeating this motion until she notices me. She watches me for a moment from the gaps between her fingers.
"Are you okay?" I ask, unsure what to say.
"They did the same thing to you?" she asks, her words falling into the palms of her hands.
"Yeah, but I'm kind of used to it. That wasn't my first time," I emphasis.
"You're doing a lot better than me the first time," I add, lightheadedly. But Granger's expression keeps the air in the room still.
"That was a lot," she says, leaning back into the chair. I know that she means mentally, not physically. I would endure the physical aspects of it a thousand times over if it meant I didn't have to actually see it. To see what was buried in my mind. There are some things you shouldn't have to see in life and the memories you try to forget are certainly one of them.
"Come on," I say, grabbing her forearm. At first, she tries to walk by herself but after a few steps, she leans the majority of her weight against me.
"What did they say?" I ask, moving out of the room and into the hallway. I stop, a little awkward, not fully sure where to go from here. Granger takes a step ahead and leads us down the hallway towards one of the rooms. She pulls the door open revealing an old room, with a double four-poster bed, patterned linen line the bed and the dark-coloured curtains are almost drawn completely shut, a speck of fluorescent light breaking through.
"I used to sleep in this room when I was here," she says, moving towards the bed.
"What did they say, Granger?" I ask again. She looks me over once before standing up from the bed. She pulls off her coat, dropping it to the floor. She walks a few feet ahead, shakily grabbing each corner of her jumper and pulling it over her head, almost slipping as she throws it behind her onto the floor. She moves forward into the ensuite and turns the shower on with a gurgle from the pipes running along the roof upstairs. They clank and chirp before I hear the steady flow of water hitting the bathtub. Granger starts to undress, slipping out of her pants and shirt. I turn away awkwardly when I hear the shower curtain slide across. When I hear the sound again I turn back around, staring at the heat rising above the shower curtain. Her silhouette barely visible behind it.
I walk over to the wardrobe, pulling both doors open. Inside there are a hand full of clothes, varying from sizes. I pull out a loose pair of pants and an oversized shirt and leave them on the corner of the sink in the bathroom. There is a stillness in here, emanating from behind that shower curtain. It finds a place in me too as I look in the slight aperture between the end of the curtain and the wall. The water pooling at the end of the bathtub is almost black. Her silhouette stands unmoving behind the curtain. I leave the clothes and pull the door halfway shut behind me.
I gather a set of clothes for myself from the wardrobe before sitting on the bed, with the clothes pooled in my lap, waiting. I hear the sound of the shower turn off and a few minutes later Granger steps out, her hair hanging long over one shoulder, almost as black as her eyes look. She meets my eyes for a second before she walks around the other side of the bed and crawls into it, facing the opposite direction.
"I'm going to take a shower, okay?" I say, leaning over towards her. She nods in response. When I pull the shower curtain across the bottom of the bathtub is rimmed with a fine line of dirt. I step into it washing around the edges of the tub before I stand under the scalding hot water, letting it burn at least two layers off of me. It's time to burn a few layers off.
When the hot water runs out I stand at the back of the tub for a minute letting the water runoff me. I hesitate at the door, listening to see if I can hear her breathing. When I don't hear anything I step back into the room to find her on her back, staring up at the ceiling. I run a towel through my hair and look around the room unsure of where to put it before I decide to just drop it on the ground. Granger's clothes are already spewed across the floor. I slide up into the bed and lay outside the covers, staring at the roof beside her. It's been a very long time since I've laid down and been this clean before.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, leaning my head to the side to see her face. She blinks rapidly, sighing loudly.
"You know Harry used to always ask me that. Back when we were on the road. He would always ask me that all the time and it drove me mad sometimes," she rambles.
"Why does everyone think that I want to talk about what's on my mind every second of every day?" she asks, turning her head to mine. We're not exactly close on the bed but we're closer than we've been in the last year.
"Why can't we just sit in silence?" she argues, her voice growing annoyed. I nod, turning my head back up to the ceiling.
"We can," I say, placating her. She huffs, aggravated. I let my eyes grow soft, the light from the streetlamps outside casting a small glow over the roof. It's late. Granger sighs again.
"You're only saying that," she says.
"We don't have to talk if you don't want too," I reply. I feel the bed shift as she turns over, facing out towards the windows.
A few moments pass in silence, the sound of streetcars whizzing by outside. A few trucks moving through the city at night. I am not accustomed to these sounds. I did not grow up with them but over the last year, I learnt to sleep through a lot worse.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" she snaps suddenly. I smirk into the dark room.
"Because I understand how you feel," I explain. She rolls back over, lying on her back again. We listen to another car zoom past outside.
"Yeah because you understand everything. Malfoy, the empathetic," she draws on. I can hear the anger in her voice and the stiller I become the worse it gets for her. I know that so that's why I continue to do it.
"If you're angry Granger. That's okay too," I say quietly.
"I'm not angry," she snaps back, almost overlapping my sentence.
I can feel her hands clutch into the blanket as she pulls, balling it into her fists.
"I just didn't think it would be like that," she adds, sighing deeply. Her hands unclench, releasing the blanket.
"I know," I agree. She turns towards me, balling her hands together under her head for support. I drop my head to the side and I can just about make out her features in the darkness. She's watching me eagerly, waiting for me to speak. But she has to speak, that's the way this has to go. She knows that.
"I mean, Snape explained what was going to happen and said it wouldn't be pleasant but I didn't expect to have to see it as well. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that. It was like I was there again, in all those memories," she rambles on. I shift the rest of my body towards her.
"I know," I assure her.
"There was so much that I had forgotten- that I had stored away until this war was all over. All these issues and things that hurt me that I couldn't bear to think about when I was on the road with Harry and Ron. There was just so much and to see them all again it just-"She loses her sentences, staring off into the middle distance.
"What did Lupin say after?" I ask. Granger's eyes soften as she slowly comes back into the room.
"Snape said it was satisfactory. Whatever was in my head matched whatever was in yours," she explains.
"But he knew. I mean he saw everything from Hogwarts. The way he looked at me afterwards was strange. It was almost pained. Like he felt sorry for me or something," Granger implies.
"What did he see in your head?" she asks, leaning up on the pillow more. The movement causes her to shift a little more towards me on the bed.
"The same as you, I suppose. We have the same memories of that time. He searched the memories of us together. Lupin wanted to see if I was a threat to you or anyone here," I say.
"I told him you weren't. I explained that to him in the room but he said this was necessary," she describes.
"What did you expect Granger? That they were going to just take your word for it?" I ask, laughing a little at the end.
"Do you remember it all?" she asks, changing the subject.
"What?"
"Us? Back then," she says, quietly, her voice holding a hint of embarrassment she's trying to conceal. I run my tongue over my lips, wetting them slightly before I speak.
"I remember," I clarify. "Do you?"
"It's not something you can just forget," she acknowledges and for a moment we sit there in silence. Just thinking.
"It was a long time ago, Granger," I add, unsure. She sighs a little at this.
"I know," she answers. I bite my tongue, unsettled by this conversation. One that I know will have to happen at some point but one we both don't want to have. It's always that way. We always try and avoid the difficult conversations in life. But in turn, we end up not having them. Then we're left making up the other half of the conversation. I don't know which is worse. The knowing or the not knowing.
"Why didn't you run? Back at the house? I saw the way you were looking at the back door. You wanted to go," she asks. I stare back up at the ceiling thinking back to the panic and tension I felt at the house. Up until a certain point I wasn't sure what was happening. I didn't know whether or not she had deliberately gone there to turn me in. I didn't know which leg to stand on.
"I wanted too," I start, sighing. "But you asked me to stay."
"And so you stayed?"
"And so I stayed."
"It's that simple?" she asks, watching me with searching eyes.
"What do you want me to say, Granger? What conversation are you trying to have?" I ask, completely unsettled.
"I don't know Malfoy," she answers, groaning into the darkness. There's something I haven't told her. Something I guess that's stopping me from speaking. From answering the question I know she's trying to ask. That when I saved her from Bellatrix it had all looked so similar. It had all looked so similar to what I had seen in her future. The one that Dumbledore had told me was a lie. But I can't move past it. It's been at the back of my mind since that night, just churning away in thought.
I lean up away from the bed, my legs falling out over the side.
"Hey, where are you going?" she asks, shocked, pulling on my forearm. "Don't go. I'm sorry," she rushes.
"It's not that, Granger," I say, pressing into my temples.
"What's wrong?" she asks, sitting up, still pulling on my arm.
If it was true and Dumbledore had just lied for whatever reason, is that something she would want to know. That what I had seen in her future could be real. Is that something she would want or something that would just add to her list of problems. I turn around and her eyes are widened, probing my face. I look away, down to my palms. Is that something I would still want?
"Hey, come lie down. I won't say anything else, okay?" she says her voice low and soothing. The road is quiet outside, no cars whizzing by anymore just the persistent glow of the street lamps. It must be late now. The house is silent still. I let her pull me back around, laying my head against the pillow. She shifts forward, laying her head on the very corner of my pillow. She pulls the blanket high up, bundling it just under her chin.
"We can just sleep now," she assures me with a small smile. I look over her entire face, how clear and bright it is now when it's not caked with dirt. How different and younger she looks in this light. The glow from the street light cascades over the right of her face, causing her right eye to shine a little, lightening it up into this brilliant orange.
Somewhere far below on the first story of the house the large grandfather clock in the dining room chimes loudly and I know it's midnight. I smirk a little before a small chuckle escapes past my lips. Granger peaks up a little at this.
"What is it?" she asks, leaning up to me.
"It's June fifth," I reply, mulling this over. She looks at me, confused.
"It's my birthday," I explain, watching her. She smiles brightly at me. I guess I never thought I would make it to twenty years old.
"You're so old now," she jokes, pushing at my chest, but she stills her hand letting it rest there as she smirks at me. Her eyes burst with colour and a vibrancy that I haven't seen from her in a very long time.
"What are you going to wish for?" she asks, pushing on my chest again. Her smile is something to see. I had forgotten how big and infectious it was. I smile back at her.
I don't want to think about the future and whether or not telling her is the right or wrong thing. Because I never thought I was going to make it to twenty years old. I never thought I was going to make it nineteen either but I did. And I did that by taking it one day at a time. That's how I want to live my life. Just one day at a time. Today is June fifth and I want to live it like today is the only day that there is or ever will be. Because that might be true. Whether or not our future is the same will be determined on the day that it happens. For now, there is just this. Right here.
"I have everything I want," I assure her. Her mouth falls open slightly, the skin pulling away from one another to fall into a small oh. When she starts to speak, opening her mouth but falling silent, I slip my right arm under her neck and pull her towards me, flush against my body. She's frozen still for a moment before the arm that was pressed against my chest snakes under my arm and behind my shoulder. I squeeze pulling her tight against me. I feel her heart thumping loudly against my collarbone.
"I'm sorry," I say, burying my head into the crook of her neck. She shakes her head.
"It's okay," she responds, sniffling loudly against my neck.
"It's not," I clarify. "I fucked up," I admit. I can fear her tears against my neck. I rub my hand up and down her back as she shakes her head again.
"Everybody fucks up sometimes," she cries, wiping her nose against my shirt. "You made up for it," she assures me. She feels so small and frail against me but she holds onto me with a tremendous amount of strength.
She pulls back, rubbing her face against the pillow, soaking it. When her eyes are clear again she finds mine.
"Do you think we can ever be those people we were in Hogwarts again?" she asks, hopeful.
"I think that we can try," I say.
"I haven't felt like me in a very long time," she says, dreamily, staring up at the ceiling. I brush my hand over her face, wiping away a few rogue tears.
"You're still you. You're still the same," I assure her. She turns, leaning up onto her elbow and looks deep into my eyes.
"What are you doing?" I ask, slightly embarrassed. I feel heat rush to my cheeks.
"Just seeing something," she answers nonchalantly, lying back down on the bed. She shifts back into the crook of my arm, laying her head against my shoulder.
"And?"
"You're still the same too," she agrees.