Chapter Text
“Love is a powerful motivator, Dragon, but it can be someone's greatest downfall."
He was unable to voice his opinion on the matter, unable to force the jammed, unbelievably weak protest as he watched the waves of the combustion suddenly rising from the West wing. He held his mother's delicate golden cristal Narcissus necklace in a grip strong enough to bloody his bruised knuckles which he held close to his broken rib. Despite the situation he had found himself in, he couldn't lose the last thing that held his mother's last flares of magic. He was shoved hard by a wave of a strong silvery, magic, protected only by a charm that he knew wouldn’t last long if the caster was already dead.
He never felt such an urge to kneel and beg like a needy child for his lost parents. He never felt such an urge that tore his core to the very end.
He felt the despair eating him alive alongside the flames, dread he had never felt before, his heart sinking down his stomach as the flashes of fire suddenly filled his vision.
He was trapped, injured and on the verge of losing his ability to control his consciousness, but he cannot— could not—
"No, don't! Please!" He was unable to get out.
His own magical exhaustion prevented him from moving from where he was lying on the ground. He was unable to cast spells of control over the fire. His voice was weak and drained, yet he screamed, screamed for the other Seer to get out of there. He screamed for him to run.
"Don't leave me too! Abraham, please, not you too."
It felt like a feverish dream away from an ugly reality. Things were happening fast, yet it was all in slow motion, him fighting against the dreadful blackness that threatened to take him away, like a last scene in a nightmare before you wake up to find yourself in the same cage you were in before falling asleep just to be hunted down nevertheless.
Draco watched Abraham as the Fiendfyre ate away the rest of the remainder of the hidden Malfoy library around them both. The smell of burning wood and paper mixed in with the thick smoke. The heat was so powerful and the smoke so thick that breathing was becoming extremely hard, if not impossible. He watched the fire swallowing the shape of his friend alongside the rest of the things. Black Pearl slithered to his side in the most fearful and distressful way he had ever seen, hissing curses and coiling around him just to hide under his clothes. He was scared and trembling.
"No, please! Abraham!" He screamed, twisting around and searching for his wand, crawling although he knew it would be of no use.
There were gashes all over his tired body; one closed his damaged left eye, leaving him half blind in the inferno of the Fiendfyre. His vision was blurred in itself and he couldn't see what was happening around him clearly.
But he knew. He knew.
"Malfoy, move out of there!" He heard Potter yell from the entrance, trying to control the eating fire in no vain, but Draco didn't pay him any attention; all of his focus was on his mentor.
There is no broom this time.
"Abraham!" He watched as his mentor closed his burning blue eyes as he fell into the flames, accepting his fate and crying in pain as his flesh burned to ashes; and Draco never stopped screaming his name.
It was all a sick kind of deja vu; watching Crabbe getting eaten by the fire while he was kept alive and then watching yet another person he deeply cared for getting taken away from him and turning to ashes too. It felt like a curse; watching the people he cared about getting wasted away instead of him.
His own desperate screams joined the ones around him. The screams of the Aurors surrounded by the laughs of the rest of the wizards and witches that broke through the Malfoy’s wards; the Neo-Death Eaters thirsted over for the Values at the manor, or what remains of them; he saw them all getting eaten by the fire. The anger brushed away the grief, the loss and the depression that crushed his exhausted, paralyzed body.
It was just another minute before he too closed his eyes to the sound of his wrecked, resigned sobs and Potter's shouts in alarm.
He pictured his mother's soft smile - safe, happy and perfect "I'm proud of you, baby." Fond tone and quiet poisture.
He squeezed her precious necklace closer to his chest, hugging the trembling form of Black Pearl in the progress.
He let himself burn.
*^*
The first time he opened his eyes, his consciousness came to him in slow, steady and heated waves.
Everything was suddenly too bright, so bright that he cried out and tried to cover his left eye with a heavy limb. The awful pain in the front of his skull was so unbearable that he wanted to whimper.
It took him a few seconds to realise he was laying on his back, feeling the unseen world move in a quiet rhythm around him. He heard fainted sounds and muffled words and they echoed inside his head. Echoes reflected hard flashes of pain that gnawed at the front of his skull. He had to bite his lip hard to stop the pathetic moans from escaping his breath.
There was movement around him, yet he couldn't put his mind on it. It felt too far away for his liking and his memory was frozen with confusion and unidentified tight feelings. His breathing was ragged and shallow which was not helping the matter at all. His breaths were too fast and too short for his own comfort.
He groaned weakly, his hands shaking as he pressed the back of them over his eyes. It didn't help the impossibly growing migraine he was having.
"Mr. Malfoy, do you hear me?" Someone said softly from above.
Something was hitting on something repeatedly, yet it was unbelievably peaceful to his trembling limbs. It felt like it was raining. Heavy, loaded drops were hitting a hard surface and it lulled him to remove his forearm away from his eyes.
His body was chilled, yet it felt like he was on fire. The sweat was forming at his temple and brow. He felt so uncomfortable; having such heat radiating from his body made him feel like he was burning alive.
Then it all hit him hard in the head; the breakthrough, the Neo-Death Eaters, the Aurors, Potter's vivid green, wide eyes, red robes torn and bloodied, a desperate plea to run, to get out, to move and Abraham telling him his last vision, surrounded by the Fiendfyre and havoc with no way out.
He suddenly gasped, a wet sob ripped out of his chest at the reminder as he tried to hold his emotions back. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood and forced all sounds back in, realizing too late that he didn’t know where, how and when. He had too many questions about his existence, about how he had survived, or where he was or, or, or…
He shook his head slowly, trying to figure out what had happened in the last ten hours of his life. He came with just flashbacks of scenes and an empty handed memory with a heavy throbbing in his temples, still focused on the last face he had seen burning.
Abraham, oh Merlin. Oh, Gods above. Did he survive? Is he alive? Oh No.
"Mr. Malfoy, I need you to calm down."
He shot up from where he was laying in panic, startled. His dizziness worsened and rolled his stomach with it, yet he didn’t care enough for that, no…
The voice sounded too concerned and too awfully familiar for his comfort.
He opened his heavy eyelids to look around, blinking slowly. His trembling hands were fisted firmly, one with his wand circling an invisible Protection charm around him with fast movements. He was ready to cast any necessary spells to defend himself, but his body was tired and weak. His head felt like it was on cloud seven, ears ringing and legs buckling beneath him, but his wand never felt more sure of itself in his grip. He missed it.
The powerful waves of disbelief and confusion at how comfortable he was holding his wand made him frown. This wand wasn’t the one his predecessors possessed, he hasn't felt this fluency in a very long time.
"Where, what— Who are you?" He demanded, his voice weak and drained.
His right eye was still not adjusted to the lights around him and his headache was so hard he swore he could see stars. The lightning followed thunder outside and it made his confusion rise because, the last time that he had checked, the summer had just begun.
By Salazar, his vision was so bad and blurred. He remembered losing the sight in one of his eyes the first time his Inner eye had awakened and how awfully bad he had felt, yet it was all so confusing. The pain felt similar to that night; his body was so heavy that he swayed in his spot, his cheeks were damp from tears and he could feel his hoarse voice cracking each time he tried to demand more information, yet failed miserably.
He built his Occlumency shields hard and high around his thoughts, aiming for his mind to dismiss the memory of his mentor burning in front of his eyes. While he waited for the right moment to collapse in silent condolences, he closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths.
There was a sudden silence around him, then…
"Mr. Malfoy, my name is Professor Lupin. I'm not going to hurt you, I need you to—" The man's voice was familiar to the one whom he claimed to be.
Draso’s ears picked the slight tremble, but that was impossible, that was insane. It was so bloody hard to rely on just his hearing when the inside of his head rang the Christmas bells.
"Funny. The person you are talking about doesn't exist." He cut the fake Lupin out, trying to even his breathing, blinking repeatedly to clear his blurred vision.
This man died three years ago. I saw his bloody corpse.
There were several people in the same space as him; they were short and young. Yet, he will not be fooled. He refused to be fooled after the last time; The Dark Lord made sure of it.
"Mr. Malfoy. I assure you I'm pretty much existing. Do you remember where you are?" The werewolf said, his tone hard and stable, making Draco want to breathe a little deeper.
God, is he hallucinating? Is this what it is? Hallucinating dead people? What's next? Bloody Baron drinking tea with Peeves?
"Malfoy Manor, the library—?" His voice cracked, it was so foreign to his own ears and so young, he felt his wand trembling with how hard he was holding it.
"No, Mr. Malfoy, you are not. We are both on the same train headed to Hogwarts right now, do you remember that? Do you remember getting on the train?" The man said in a calm voice, but Draco could tell he was wearing a frown between his brows and a curl at one corner of his upper lip.
"What? No! That's— that's—" impossible! Draco almost shouted as the anger and frustration began to build up inside him, taking the rest of his breath away as he collapsed on the hard ground again, legs no longer being able to hold his weight.
God, he felt so lost.
Hogwarts? He frowned.
Hogwarts? What?
He unconsciously rubbed his left arm, the place were the Dark Mark used to burn, the way it used to tug at his magical core painfully if he refused to come when summoned.
That's insane. Bloody hell, did this stupid man thought Draco would believe this Hippogriff shit spewing out of his mouth?
He whimpered as a wave of pain crushed the inside of his eyes. Merlin, he was so tired he wanted to pass the fuck out. He was tired, confused and angry and the Occlumency shields started trembling down and…
He needed to calm down and breathe.
"What's happening? Why is— Why is he acting like this? Potter wasn't like this." A young, rough voice shouted in a clear concern followed by a few sounds that sounded like muffled sobs and cries, but he didn't acknowledge any of it.
No, he acknowledged that voice.
it was impossible for Draco to forget that voice, impossible for him to forget how it screamed around the fire that ate him alive in the Room of Requirement.
"I told you, Mr. Crabbe, the dementors—"
"Crabbe?" His heartbeat was speeding so fast, loud and crazy in his ribcage.
His vision cleared slowly as he lowered his wand. It was as if the name alone was enough for his vision to adjust to the lights. He looked up at the terrified faces gazing at him in concert and confusion. By the look of their Professor, Draco almost mistaken it as awe.
Oh, Salazar!
"Yes?" Crabbe replied, nervously tugging at his sleeves.
He looked so young, so young that he still has his baby fat around his cheeks and chin. He looked healthy, protected and safe, not burning.
Draco’s eyes stung as he looked at his dead friend.
Vincent Crabbe
He blinked the tears away and took a deep breath before he looked at the rest of his friends in amazement. Pansy, with her raven dark hair newly cut short and red-rimmed eyes, was the closest as usual. To her left was Blaise and to her right was Daphne Greengrass. Goyle was at Crabbe's left and they all surrounded one very impressed and slightly worried DADA Professor, Remus Lupin, who was kneeling in front of him with all of his scars, his poor taste in clothing, tired face and his stupid facial hair.
God, they were all soft, small and so young and alive. They were still kids — kids!
What is happening? Is this a dream? Is he in a magical coma?
He died, didn't he? This is the afterlife? Is this a punishment? Let him have what he had longed for just to rip it out if his hands?
He felt his own headache growing in size and he felt a sudden urge to cry. Merlin, he was a mess.
"I remember, I remember. Sir— apologies. What— what happened?" He asked and winced at his obvious lie.
His voice came out hoarse and tight. He cleared his throat quickly and didn't try to move from his place on the ground, ignoring the more concerned looks he received at his first words from his friends.
("A true Malfoy never apologize." He felt the shudder run through his veins at hearing the pure disgust in his father’s voice.
His father was looking down at his bloodied nose and swollen cheek with satisfaction, but was now dead, so fuck him.)
"We were talking when the train stopped. The lights went out for a while, so we got out, worried. We tried to figure out what was wrong. You were right behind us Draco, I swear!" Pansy said in a watery, pinched small voice, her eyes filled with tears once more as she rushed to his side to help him stand, making Crabbe move to the side.
He forgot how dramatic she was. Merlin, he missed her.
"We found you unconscious on the floor the moment the lights came back. It was then when Professor Lupin came at Pancy's hysterical screams." Blaise finished, snoring at the nasty cold glare she gave him in return, moving to stand properly at Draco's other side.
The boy had a scowl on his face, making him appear even younger with his tiny baby pout. He tugged Draco closer to his body.
Draco bit his lip so as not to break down then and there. God, he missed this. He missed them all. He felt the urge to heave as he remembered that this could be a feverish dream, a cruel joke; a curse.
"Mr. Malfoy, I think you need to visit Madam Pomfrey once we arrive. You don't look well." The Professor said slowly, careful not to let his own panic and concerns show on his face.
He smiled as he unwrapped some chocolate pars, breaking off a large piece and handing it to the kids. "Eat it, you will feel better." Then he mumbled about rich and spoiled kids when no one moved to take anything from him.
They all preffered to take things out of their own pockets.
Never let it be known that Slytherin’s have just a petty personality. The lot of them are paranoid bastards too. Draco wanted to laugh at their attitude. God, he missed this.
"I will make sure he does." Pansy said with a sniff, gripping Draco’s forearm in a deathly grip.
He winced again as he accepted the offered piece of chocolate, mind still racing and confused, ignoring the shocked faces he received again.
He took a small bite and felt impressively good. Warmth spread all over his chest as the chocolate melted in his mouth. The relieved sigh he unleashed at the warm feeling that made his chest unclench sadly didn't make his heavy limbs or the worsened headache any better. He still felt like he was living in a dream, but he doubted even now, as a Seer, he could dream in such a cristal, lucid way.
"I will need to head to my compartment then. You dropped this by the way." Professor Lupin said, startling him out of his thoughts.
Draco blinked slowly, catching the tossed object carefully by sheer reflexes of a Seeker in mid-airr.
There was a pregnant moment where Lupin frowned at the strange drawing on the boy's wrist which was not fully hidden underneath his shirt, but also not fully clear.
Draco looked down into his hands as he heard the door of their compartment shut softly. His heart thundered in his chest as he traced the small, delicate necklace of his mother with his thumb. The necklace shone light, golden brown in the faint lights. It was the same one he had been holding close before everything had gone to hell, glinting and winking at him at the corners as if laughing at his confused, shocked, wide-eyed face.
Abraham, what in the ever-loving fuck have you done?
*^*