Chapter Text
“Draco,” my head lulls back, hitting the tufted headboard. “Draco – letters.”
He slides back up the bed, white-blonde hair standing in stark contrast to the black silk sheets. His tongue glides over his bottom lip, giving me a proud smirk as he settles against the pillows, “What are you going on about?”
“Letters.” I glance over at the door.
Sitting just inside the room are two crisp white envelopes. At least Narcissa had the decency to not open the door. I’m not sure how much more she can take. Draco and her have very different ways of handling his father’s trip to Azkaban. While Lucius’s wife seems to draw into herself, Draco grows more and more reckless and impulsive.
Getting up, Draco snatches the envelopes from the floor, handing me one with my name printed across it; our O.W.L results. He pulls me close to his side, already pulling his letter out. “Don’t suppose these really matter anymore, huh? What’ll we need with Charms and Astronomy?”
“He wants us to finish our education, Draco,” I answer coolly, popping the wax seal on my own letter. “It will look suspicious if we don’t return.”
Draco grumbles under his breath, eyes scanning over his results, “I’ve gotten six Outstanding’s; Charms, Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration.”
“I’ve gotten six as well, all but Divination and History of Magic,” I sneer down at the inked As. “They’ve given me an Acceptable.”
Beside me, Draco drops his chin onto my shoulder, looking over my O.W.L results, “I’ve gotten an A in Divination as well. How’d you manage an O in Astronomy?”
“Dunno,” I shrug, letting the paper fall to the floor. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not going to continue with it. Snape will be happy, he was expecting both of us to be in his Advanced Potions class.”
I’ve lost him again though. Draco wears a familiar far away look. While he’s doing his best to mask his feelings, I know his father’s imprisonment is weighing heavily on him. This is a moment where he should be gloating, shoving the paper under his father’s nose, waiting for the little nod of praise.
“There’s still time to visit,” I offer cautiously, waiting for the harsh outbursts that usually come with these suggestions. The last time I told Draco we could visit his father I ended up sleeping in my own wing of the house until he came to apologize.
Draco swallows hard, his head giving an unnatural twitch, “No. He wouldn’t want us seeing him like that. It’s bad enough they put his picture all over the Prophet.”
“Draco? Isabelle?” A timid knock follows her voice.
“Enter.”
Narcissa, a once stunningly beautiful woman, now looks destroyed. Her eyes are bloodshot, skin blotchy. Deep purple bags sit under her watery eyes and her hand shakes as she reaches down to pick up the results I dropped. Her gaze bounces around the room, trying to avoid the crumpled sheets and her half-naked son. “If you circle the classes you’d like to continue taking, I can send off for the booklists.”
“I think Isabelle and I will go for a swim,” Draco states as if his mother hasn’t spoken, staring out the window at the far end of his bedroom.
He doesn’t mean to be this way. In her heart, Narcissa has to know this. Draco’s never had a blow like this before though. Since I met him, he’s thought the Malfoy name made his family invincible. He’s spent the majority of the summer deluding himself into believing his father is taking an extended vacation. To see his mother so broken, to indulge her new appearance, to see the tear tracks that now stain Narcissa’s face would send Draco’s carefully crafted defenses tumbling down. Instead of fighting him about it, I’ve taken on the role of an intermediary, the peacekeeper.
Neither of their coping mechanisms is healthy or necessarily appropriate, but I think both Narcissa and I know something is coming. I see it in the way she jumps at the slightest of noises, the way both our heads snap towards the front door, eyes wide, anytime it opens. Maybe even Draco has a sense, adding another layer to his snarky behavior as a kind of defense.
“We’ll get them back to you,” I take hold of Narcissa’s hand, giving her a smile. “You should have the house-elf draw you a bath.”
The corners of her lips twitch up, sad eyes lingering on the back of Draco’s head, “Yes. Yes, perhaps that will be nice.”
As the door clicks shut, the sound of Narcissa’s heels retreating up the hall, I turn on Draco. He’s already staring at me, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set; “Don’t start.”
“Can’t you imagine how she feels? Alone. Worried about you – ”
He cuts in with a cruel laugh, “Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“I’ve put up with your delusions all summer, Draco,” I snap back. “I’m not going to let you kid yourself into thinking nothing is going to happen. You saw him. He was furious. What happened at the Ministry was a huge setback. It’s not just going to be swept under the rug and forgotten.”
“You sound just like her.”
“We’re worried about you.”
Where I expect there to be a harsh scowl and a cold stare is a lopsided smile and gleaming mischief, “You’re fussing.”
I let out a snort of laughter, remembering the last time he told me that. Apparently, Draco isn’t in the mood for another row just yet. “You need fussing, you hardheaded, arrogant, git. Let people care about you.”
Something I said must’ve gotten through to Draco. He seems to soften. He’s kinder to his mother, finally joining her in the dining room for meals. Once again, he opens up to me, the invisible barrier that existed between us at the beginning of the summer melting away. Draco finally comes to terms with his father being in Azkaban, spending a night drinking himself to tears. The rest of the month is spent tromping through the grounds, the two of us swimming and laughing. Even Narcissa seems to cheer up a bit. She often joins us for afternoon tea by the pond and talks excitedly about the upcoming school year.
I let the pleasant mood radiate through me, temporarily pushing away the numbness. Nights are the worst. Sirius’s face floats through my dreams, that wide-eyed half laugh still set on his face. Harry’s screams echo in my ears as I watch his last living family member slip through a veil of darkness. I hear his threat reverberating through the night. I’m not supposed to care. I shouldn’t care. Sirius should’ve meant nothing to me, another person to use and throw away. I can’t shake the guilt though; the empty, hollow feeling I get every time I think about him. He was my friend, someone I confided in, someone I laughed with, shared my thoughts with, someone I cared about and now he’s gone and I’m expected to not care, to brush it off and move on.
“Bell?” Draco’s voice floats through the crack under the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
“I’m f-fine, fine. I’ll be – be o-out in a minute,” I call back, whipping at my eyes and hoping Draco didn’t hear the crack in my voice.
But it’s too late. As I turn, he’s there, concern written all over his face, “Bell, what’s wrong?”
“I thought I could handle this, but I don’t think I can,” I shake my head, more tears spilling down my cheeks. “He was my friend and he’s dead and I’m not even allowed to be upset about it,” the words spill out in a heavy sob before I’m able to swallow them down. I stare back at Draco, now blurry through my renewed crying, wide-eyed. I wait for the Draco from the beginning of the summer to come crawling back out, sharp tongue aimed and ready.
Instead, he collects me in his arms, rubbing gentle circles into my back as we sink back to the floor. He coos at me, trying to get me calm enough to form a coherent thought, to stop gasping for air and choaking out sobs.
“Who are you talking about? Who’s dead?”
Lifting my head, I stare into Draco’s icy grey eyes, searching for that piece of him I know is there; the piece that doesn’t care about alliances or who we’re supposed to be loyal to, the piece that has always cared about me and my feelings, no matter what they are. It only takes a second; my pain is reflected back at me, Draco looking at an utter loss, his bottom lip quivering.
“Sirius! He’s dead and she killed him and he was my friend. And the last thing he saw was me turning my back on him, me just standing there letting it happen because that’s what I was supposed to do. He was my friend and I let her kill him!”
The floor disappears. Somewhere water is running. I cling to Draco, crying into his chest as he continues to offer words of solace mixed with humming and gentle whispers about things being all right. My clothes are stripped away, warm water enveloping me. I feel Draco slide into the tub beside me, the door clicking shut. He holds me for a long time, letting me cry it out.
“It’s okay to be sad, Bell,” he cups my face in his hands, gently bringing my head up to look at him. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”
“They can’t know. I wasn’t supposed to be making friends. If they found out – ”
His lips laying over mine cut off the rest of my frenzied babble, “I’m not going to tell. Someone you knew died, it’s okay to have feelings about that. It’ll be our secret.” He pauses for a second, forehead resting against mine. “Do you want to talk about him? Would that help?”
“He gave me this,” I twist a thin silver ring around my thumb. The band is engraved with two snakes twisting around each other; their mouths open as if ready to attack. “It was his mum’s. We found it cleaning out the house. He was going to chuck it, but once he saw I liked it he gave it to me. He taught me Vanishing Charms and thought it was brilliant that I laughed at his jokes. He was good and brave. Don’t think less of me, Draco, please.”
Draco scrunches up his nose as if something I’ve said is funny, “Less of you? Because you care about people? Because you feel it when someone you care about dies? Bell, those are the things that make me love you.”
“You’re an incredible man, Draco,” I run my hand along his cheek, letting it settle against the side of his neck.
“So are you, Isabelle,” Grinning down at me, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”