Summary: Halloween with Draco <3 Friends into BOO’s (teehee)

Warnings: mild drinking nothing tooo crazy but not encouraging it !

Words: 5.2K

A/N: this is my first one shot in like a month and i ofc had to do something for halloween even tho im a tad late but its still a halloweekend KIND OF !!!!!!! </3 I HOPE ITS GOOOD

“No, it’s a stupid holiday.”

Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn child-like way, a scowl on his face as he stared forward towards the front of the class where Snape was giving a lecture on the small but vicious Erkling creatures.

“Come on, please,” you pleaded quietly. Your gaze kept flickering between your easily-irked professor and the pouting blond beside you, hoping that in a few short seconds you would get the answer you were hoping for that way you could get back into your notes instead of possibly getting a detention or losing house points.

In all the years you’ve been friends with the Prince of Slytherin, you learned that he loathed the holiday and any festivities that came with it. Every year, you beg him to go out to one of the many parties that are thrown ranging from small gatherings to full-on blowouts or just do something halloween related with you, but he always refuses. His reasoning, as he put it, was that he was simply ‘too mature to be dressing up as a foul creature.’

You knew he mostly spent the holiday either asleep in his dorm or walking around aimlessly with Crabbe and Goyle to target unsuspecting first-years after the big feast but this year, you finally had enough of his anti-halloween agenda. You wanted to spend the evening and hopefully night with him laughing by your side and showing him how fun everything could be, but most of all - you wanted to see him in a costume.

“Please, if you go I will never ask you for anything ever again,” you tried again once Snape had turned his back to the class. 

Draco pursed his lips as though he was genuinely considering it, his eyes still locked on the back of the greasy-haired professor before he turned slightly to you with a deep sigh. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be an annual thing.”

You gave him a bright smile, holding yourself back from jumping around in your seat and completely pushing aside the desire to throw your arms around him in excitement.

“I promise you’ll have fun.”

He hid the small smile that grew on his face from seeing how happy his answer made you, turning his head down towards his parchment filled with notes that all of a sudden seemed interesting as he avoided your gaze. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was the smallest bit of excited at the thought of spending the holiday with you because he knew that wherever you went or whatever you did, he would be perfectly content with you by his side because for the first time in all your years as friends; he realized only a month ago that the weird fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was around you or the weird overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his entire body like an ocean of water breaking through a dam - was a crush. He hated it at first, noticing and begrudgingly acknowledging it. He thought it was cliche that he somehow fell for one of his closest friends and mostly, he thought that he was going to ruin the friendship entirely. He wanted to wreck it himself, trying to distance himself from you and being extra mean - but he couldn’t.

He adored your company too much and everything that came with you. He adores your laugh, your smile, your hugs when you greet him and how you somehow give him one each time he needs it the most. He adores the study-buddy system you guys have almost every other week before a quiz or an exam. He adores your bad jokes and clumsy accidents even though those qualities annoy him with anyone else. He adores the way you want him to join you in everything fun you and he especially adores the times when he overhears you talking about him as if he’s your favorite person in the world.

Bottom line, he’s all about you.

So when this season of spookiness came, he was expecting your pleading for him to spend the day with you. Only this time, it only took you a couple times before he ultimately agreed to give in to you.

You were ready to explode with thrill at the thought of what the night held in store for you and you didn’t hide it one bit. When the big Hogwarts Hallowe’en feast was over and every one began spilling out from the Great Hall and into the main foyer, you were searching restlessly for a clean mop of silver hair that almost always stuck out in the mass of students. You weren’t sure if you were able to spot him anywhere in under a few seconds because he was unimaginably important to you, or because his hair was so uniquely bright, or maybe it was how boisterous and loud Crabbe and Goyle always were when they were by him, especially if he was with other Slytherins - but you found him, every single time with ease.

After standing on your tippy-toes several times to overlook the stampede of everyone, you finally spotted Draco leaning across a pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he stood in a circle of his House friends that included his two goons and his quidditch teammates. You watched him thoughtfully as you approached, taking slow steps towards the group to admire him from afar and also because they were all slightly intimidating. He looked lost in the conversation, laughs escaping from his upturned lips as he listened to whatever was being said, large pale hands running through his hair every so often when the front pieces of his hair would flop down to his forehead. 

He looked ridiculously good and effortlessly at that.

You weren’t sure if you should interrupt, hesitating a few feet away from them to where they couldn’t sense your presence but you were close enough to see and hear them clearly.

“We’ll see you later tonight then, Malfoy?” One of the boys nodded towards Draco.

“I’ll show up for a bit, I suppose,” he shrugs.

You see him look around the circle of boys, eyes landing on you momentarily and then back to his friends before doing a double-take towards you again in surprise. You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when his smile widens slightly into a short-lived toothy grin while he said a quick goodbye to his friends causing them all to disband and him to start approaching you.

“Are you ready for the halloween of a lifetime?” You ask as he neared.

He rolled his eyes, laughing faintly. “Where am I meeting you, darling?”

The nick name he used so rarely for you made your knees feel weak, a warm blush rushing up your neck and inching onto your cheeks that you knew was going to be very apparent on your face in a few seconds.

“I’ll meet you right here in an hour,” you say quickly.

You didn’t give him time to answer before you turned quickly in the direction of your common room and began rushing away before he could see the effect he had on you that was so clearly appearing on your face.

You didn’t know what the night held for you and Draco or where it would lead you. Unknowing to you, you were both hoping something more could come out of the evening between the two of you. But he wasn’t one to express himself in that department of feelings and you weren’t feeling bold enough to say anything about yours. It was a gray area of hoping that fate could somehow intervene and throw the two of you into what you both wanted without either of you really saying anything - but it was impossible. There was no outcome or situation you had in mind that could lead you into that, so you were stuck desperately hoping that one day things might end up differently.

It was beginning to feel ironic how in your world full of real tangible magic, there wasn’t a magical solution to your problem. You were trapped feeling like a muggle who had to figure things out by themselves, no magic included. The thought of giving him a love potion did cross your mind as a joke, but it wasn’t a genuine or fair option but little did you know, you don’t need a potion for him to feel the same way - because he already did.

Walking into your dorm felt like an exuberant disaster of everyone running around and sitting in front of mirrors with their makeup or dressing into their costumes. It was noisy and filled with chatter and you were in shock from how much clutter everyone was able to make in such a short period of time from when the feast ended to now. A simple spell would clean everything up so you and everybody else didn’t really pay it any mind. 

You maneuvered around the mess of your housemates and towards your bed where your costume was kept in the trunk underneath it, plopping down onto the floor to pull it from the underskirt of your House colored bedding.

“Did he finally say yes?” Your closest roomie friend jumped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands as she watched you dig through your bottomless trunk. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, hiding the smile on your face. 

She drawled out a teasing ‘ooh,’ poking your arm lightly with her index finger as you shied away and leaned deeper into your trunk. She was the only one who you willingly admitted your crush to as she was the only person you really trusted to not blather it off to someone.

“Will I be seeing you two in the Slytherin common room?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The boys are throwing a party and I luckily got an invite, you know how they are. So picky with who shows up.”

“You mean they’re pretentious?” You laugh. “But I don’t know if we’ll be going to it. I know Draco obviously got invited but I was thinking we could do other things.”

“Like what?” She questions as if she knew it was going to be something dirty. “I know a few secret spots around the castle-”

“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” you smack her arm lightly. “I honestly have no clue what to do. I didn’t think he’d actually agree because he never does.”

She runs her hands over her face, stifling her laughs of disbelief before she sighed loudly. “I still suggest some broom closets, hidden out of sight.”

You sit up, pushing her from where she was lying while she laughed amusingly at your false horrified reaction that you put on to hide the fact from her that what she was suggestion really waswhat you wanted. 

“I’ll leave you alone so you can get your costume on,” she smiles, jumping up from your bed and tossing one of your pillows at you as she walked away. You let out a huff, tossing it back onto your duvet before setting your costume down on the spot your friend was lying in.

You stared at it hesitantly, all of a sudden feeling nauseous at the thought of going out later with Draco as if it was some sort of date even though you knew it wasn’t. It was just two friends, hanging out, doing some spooky and fun Halloween activities together and nothing more; so why were you feeling so nervous? You weren’t sure if it was your instincts warning you of something major that was approaching or the fear that what you didn’t have planned was going to bite you in the arse when you continuously told Draco he was going to enjoy himself when you didn’t even know if that was going to be true. You didn’t want to disappoint him and mess it up for you in the future when the holiday came again and you didn’t want this to be the first and last time you experienced it with him. 

The pressure was raining down on you like thick, hard pieces of hail with no end in sight.

As you were getting dressed and doing your makeup for your costume as you liked, (i’m trying to be vague for your own imagination teehee) all you could think about was what in the hell you were going to do once you met up with the Prince of Slytherin. Your train of thought was then derailed into wondering what he was going to be dressed up as or if he was going to be dressed up at all considering the way he is. He was the type to make fun of people who dressed up, that you knew when you ran into him last year as you were walking back to your common room with your friend, both of you in costume and victims of his gentle bullying. He obviously went easier on the two of you since you were there, telling you he was just messing around afterwards and saying he liked yours but once you were out of his sight but still in ear-shot, you heard him and his two minions berating a small group of people that unfortunately passed by them. 

You gave yourself one last look in the floor mirror, letting out a long shaky exhale with your hands clasped together before you started towards the way out of your dorm, through the common room, and ultimately towards the foyer outside the Great Hall where Draco was most likely waiting for you. An hour had gone by since you last saw him, an hour of stress and panic that hadn’t slowed down or stopped.

Your shoes dragged against the stone floors, hugging yourself tightly as you walked nearer towards the spot where you were supposed to meet and as you lifted your gaze - you saw him there, staring right at you with a small grin and just like you expected, no costume.

“Nice costume,” he compliments when you reach him. 

“Where’s yours?” You frown.

“I’m not dressing up. That’s embarrassing,” he shakes his head. 

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You’re the only one not dressed up,that’sembarrassing.”

You don’t know why it was irritating to you that he wasn’t in costume, even if you knew he wasn’t. You figured it was because you were trying to overpower your nervousness with different more consuming feelings, and much to your and Draco’s dismay, it worked. 

You weren’t nervous anymore, just irked.

“I’m staying like this, take it or leave it.”

You rolled your eyes, staring him down and hoping that he would change his mind but he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously stubborn.

In the heat of the moment of a fleeting thought, you decided that if he wasn’t going to be in costume, you would put him in one or at least a hint of one. You pulled your wand out, pointing it onto his striking white hair and with one easy spell, his hair was now a flaming vibrant red.

“Y/N!” He growled, running towards the closest thing that would show off his reflection where he let out a string of frantic curse words. “I look like a bloody Weasley.”

Your laughter caught him off guard, the sound ringing in his ears like music that spread warmth throughout him. You were clutching at your stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other, giggling wildly at the sight of him with hair that did not suit him at all. He smiled to himself, your glee rubbing off on him abruptly that ate away quickly at his anger.

“You should’ve given me some ratty old hand-me-down robes and I’d look just like Ron,” he notes.

“That’s rude, Draco,” you say still laughing. He smirks, leaving the shiny statue of a knight in armor where he was checking his reflection and back over to you where you were still stuck in between doubling over in laughter and watching him. 

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he muses. He begins digging into the pocket of his dress pants, taking your vulnerability as a chance for him to tap his wand to the top of your head and before you could react, your whole hair had turned a deep green.

Your laughter immediately ended as you ran towards the suit of armor, your grimacing reflection staring back at you with deep Slytherin green hair and a distorted Draco behind you doubling over just like you were moments ago.

“This looks,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, the scowl on your face saying enough for you as you turned bitterly towards Draco. 

“Great?” He suggested, his guffawing subsiding into airy chuckles as you stood in front of him. Yours picked up again as you stared up at him, his striking bright red hair looking terribly unfamiliar on him. He was looking down at you, his heart jumping at the sight of you holding back your laughter. “You really do look dashing by the way.”

You swallowed thickly, thankful for the darkness that had settled around the castle and easily hid the scarlet brush appearing on your face. “But my hair is green.”

“Green is my favorite color.”

You opened your mouth to speak, your stomach and heart dropping simultaneously as your mind went completely blank. You pretended to not notice how he took a step closer to you to where he was almost fully against you and he pretended not to notice the way your lips were parted and how your chest was rising and falling a little too heavily as if you were nervous. It was game over for you when his gaze flickered down towards your lips and then back to your eyes, his head leaning down just the slightest like if he were waiting for you to meet him halfway. You were about to get closer to him, about to let your eyes close and give in to what you believed was him wanting to kiss you - but the world had other plans.

“Malfoy! There you are!” Someone boomed, clambering up the steps from the direction of the dungeons. You both jumped away from each other, your attention diverted to the Slytherin boy that interrupted the moment. “Malfoy come on, the party! And you can bring her too.”

You frowned when the boy came up to the two of you, clearly tipsy, dressed as a stereotypical vampire, and over-excited with the fact that Draco was out and willing to participate in Halloween festivities. It seemed like it bothered the now red-head when he looked to you and then back to the Slytherin boy with an apprehensive expression.

The boy, sensing the pause in the air, grabbed onto both you and Draco’s arms and started dragging the two of you towards the Slytherin common room where although the stone walls were thick, the sound of people celebrating inside were easily slipping past the stone slabs. He spoke the password out quickly and as soon as the entrance was open, you were both shoved inside into what looked like the largest party you had ever witnessed in all your years at Hogwarts. It was packed and filled with what looked like half of the school, or at least a huge majority of fifth-years and up. It was loud with music booming from a brand new wizarding-world radio in the middle of the room currently playing a song from the Weird Sisters. It smelled like a mixture of everyone’s perfumes and colognes and like firewhisky. The boy that pushed you two inside quickly passed you two cups of the very potent firewhisky before downing the third one he had in his hand and disappeared into the crowd while screaming for you to enjoy yourselves.

You both stood awkwardly away from the big and rowdy crowd, your drink clenched tightly in your hand against your chest and Draco swishing his around while it was still in the cup.

He wanted to up and run, thinking that someone was going to make a comment about his hair or about him being there, but no one seemed to pay attention to him or that he was there and in a way, he felt relieved by it and less tense by the second. 

“How in the bloody hell did we end up here?” You yelled over the music, putting a hand over his arm that was holding his drink up. You didn’t mean to, but you were glad you did because he glanced down at the contact with a small smile before looking back up to you.

“We got dragged here, remember!” He yelled back. 

“What?” 

“We got dragged here!”

“I can’t hear you!”

He rolled his eyes, bending down towards your ear to repeat himself one last time before you finally heard him over the mayhem around you.

“This is crazy!” You looked around the room, the sight of all the bodies and recklessness being too much as they were all more than likely drunk and oblivious to how stuffy and suffocating the room was becoming.

You looked down at the golden brown liquid sloshing around in your cup, wondering whether or not you should take it, but with the nervousness you felt coming back, it didn’t take you much longer to decide to down your cup and allow the liquid courage to seep into your veins. Draco watched you with amusement, chuckling to himself when you scrunched up your face in disgust from the burn he knew it caused as it went down your throat. He shook his head, deciding to drink his too and it was only minutes that passed before the drink was quickly becoming apparent in your systems. There was something about Firewhisky that always made its mark promptly and it really was courage in a bottle that you were glad was available to you in that moment because you were sure that in just a few minutes you were close to fainting.

You were beginning to sway faintly to the music, the rhythm sounding more loud but distant and more invigorating. You didn’t care anymore if anyone was watching or that Draco was observing you curiously just as he was beginning to lose all sense of holding himself back. He was inching closer to you, his head moving slightly to beat of the song and pure joy etched onto his features when your eyes met his.

“I keep forgetting I turned your hair red!” You yelled up to him, laughing loudly when he ran his hand through it. In your moment of confidence, you reached up and lightly ran your fingers over one of the front pieces hanging over his forehead. He didn’t stop you, his heart hammering against his chest from the drink and his overwhelming crush that was clouding all his senses. “Your hair is so soft!” 

He wanted to pin you up against the wall right then and there. You were peering up at him, just as you were before you were dragged inside by one of his Housemates and as soon as he was about to kiss you. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He knew to bend down this time for you to hear him to which you responded with a fervent nod. You took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the exit of the common room and he let you lead him into the coldness of the dungeons that bit at his cheeks. It was a stark difference from the warmth inside, the crisp October air being more chilled than what either of you were expecting. It felt nice against your flushed skin and easier to breathe, especially once after the common room closed again and you could hear was muffled talking and music.

Neither of you were drunk and were still aware of pretty much everything, mostly the feelings stirring inside you both that was begging either of you to make a move towards the other. You were just a tad tipsy, and so was he, but it was enough for you to still enjoy the night without the initial awkwardness that oddly settled in between you. It was weird, considering how open and talkative you usually were with each other but there was something about the evening that made it feel like if you didn’t know each other.

“What now?” He asked you with a raised brow, his hand slipping into his pocket.

You smiled, an idea coming to your head that you knew he would love and you didn’t mind doing in the name of Halloween. “Do you want to go mess with people?”

He stared at you with widened eyes, “bloody hell, I love you.”

There was nothing that could have prepared you for his response, your own eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, Merlin, he felt so stupid. He was mentally smacking himself in the head, desperately wishing he could bury himself seven feet under the Earth and staying there until the end of time.

He was about to play off what he said in a joking way, but for the second time that night he was interrupted by a couple that stumbled out of the common room drunkenly snogging each other’s faces off and wholly oblivious to you and Draco standing there in lingering panic. You jumped back into his arms when the couple staggered past you, almost knocking you over in the process of their makeout session and it annoyed you beyond belief. It annoyed you that they were in your way, annoyed that they interrupted you, annoyed that it wasn’t you in their position with the one you wanted. 

You dug your wand out of your pocket, flicking it their way as they rolled onto the wall, still in each other’s hold until the hex that flew from your wand hit the boy causing him to stagger back from the girl and holding his nose in pain. You heard Draco laugh from behind you when bats began to fly out from the boy’s nostrils while the girl screamed and ran away from one of the bats that swept down onto her head. The bats flew out of the dungeon and up the stairs with the boy struggling loudly the whole way up until his panicked screams were no longer heard.

“That was a perfect bat-bogey,” he looks at you proudly. “I feel bad for that poor bloke’s nose.”

“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed jokingly. 

When the sound of the door opened again, you both ran to hide behind a long drape against the wall that didn’t hide your shoes very well and pressed up against your bodies that’s shapes were no doubt visible from the opposite side.

You heard footsteps trail haphazardly down the corridor, their back seemingly facing you and as you both peeked your heads out from behind the drape, Draco nodded towards the boy and pointed his wand towards him. 

“Slugulus Eructo,” you heard him whisper and a stream of green light from his wand hit the back of the boy’s head and as he turned around in surprise while doubling over in pain, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth as slugs began to slip past the spaces between his fingers. When he stood up to run away, you noticed it was the same boy from earlier that stopped you two from the almost kiss and dragged you to the party. You let out a string of giggles as he ran away just like your last victims.

“This is so mean,” you chortle, leaning into him from behind the drape in an attempt to get closer to him. You were feeling bolder when he beamed down at you, feeling happy knowing that although the night was still young, he was having fun. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I know you don’t like Halloween.” You say quietly.

“You finally convinced me, it’s not that bad,” he grins.

“Why’d you hate it in the first place?”

The question seemed to strike a nerve but the Firewhisky still flowing freely in his veins tore away easily at his defenses so instead of avoiding your question entirely like he usually would, he frowned and let his guard down.

“I don’t hate it,” he answers apprehensively. “My father never let me celebrate it. He never let me dress up. He told me respectable wizards don’t partake in holidays like these.”

His pout made your gut twist in sympathy, your hand instinctively going into his as you squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s never too late to start celebrating. Besides, I don’t see him here stopping you.”

He smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stained-red hair falling over his eyes as he looked down to his shoes.

“You have a point, darling.”

The door of the common room opened again and what you suspected to be another snogging couple to stumble out from the sound of heavy breathing and multiple shoes scuffling about was something completely different.

“Glad Malfoy stayed with someone else today.” It was Crabbe.

“Yeah, he never lets us go to these parties,” Goyle responds. “Go ahead and thank Y/L/N for freeing us, he fancies her like a fool.”

“Reckon we should go look for them?”

You figured Goyle nodded to him like the blathering idiot he was because in a few short seconds they were running away up the same steps everyone else had. 

You peered up slowly at Draco who was already gaping at you like a deer in headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The gears in your brain were spinning wildly with happiness, the gossip hopefully being proven true when he didn’t try to deny it. You didn’t realize how close his face was to yours, cheeks tinged with pink from both the firewhisky and sudden shyness and his warm cinnamon breath fanning your face as he looked down at you.

“I can explain,” he finally said.

He didn’t need to; you placed your hands gently on his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer to you and pressing your lips against his, catching him completely by surprise. His eyes were wide at first, his body rigid and his lips unmoving, but once it finally clicked that this was real and no longer a fantasy that played like a broken record in his head, his lips moved fervently against yours with the rest of his body following. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers squeezing at the hem of your bottoms and his body pushing even further into yours.

Your bottom lip caught lightly in between his teeth as you reluctantly pulled away from him, the both of you breathing raggedly as you searched each other’s eyes.

“I feel the same,” you said softly. “Happy Halloween.”

He smashes his lips hungrily against yours again, his ego growing with each gasp of a delight that escapes your mouth as your hands roamed and tangled themselves into his magically colored strands.

“Very…happy…halloween,” he mutters against your lips in between kisses, a dazy smile adorning your face while he tightened his arms around you.

You just couldn’t wait until next year.

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 10 - FINAL (a yr later)

PART 1|PART 2|PART 3|PART 4|PART 5|PART 6|PART 7|PART 8|PART 9

Summary: PART 10 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and going into the start of the battle of Hogwarts hoping to have reader by his side at the end of it now that it’s all over.

Warnings: ANGST, crying, mentions of; blood, torture, abuse, war, death, murder, trauma basically everything violent :(

Words: 10.8K i apologize for any mistakes !

A/N: surprise :)

“It’s in Carrow’s office?” He asked, his nose instinctively scrunching when he said his name as if it disgusted him to even mention the man. You nodded as a wordless response in fear that Draco would be able to hear the slight tremble in your voice after a lump at the back of your throat had begun growing at the thought of going back to that awful place. It clouded your mind with darkness and echoing screams of pain as Bellatrix sat over you with her nails piercing into your skin while she demanded answers from you that you refused to give her.

You were silent as you trailed behind him, eyes trained on the top of his muddy silver hair with him nearly pulling you by your hand from how sluggishly you were dragging your feet up the stairs to the floor where everything truly went up in flames. It was almost as if he could sense your distress when you finally reached the undesired floor because as soon as you stepped foot onto the gravel and dirt-filled stone, his arm was wrapping itself snugly around your waist as he leaned over you to press a soft kiss into your temple.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly while his mouth was still beside your ear.

“For what?” You respond just as faintly.

“For what they did to you.” He stops you in the middle of the corridor, his eyes darting towards the end of it where the office was just around the corner. “If I knew, Merlin I’d-“

"You didn’t know,” you frown, interrupting him as soon as you noticed his brow starting to furrow. “And it’s done with now. Besides, I finished what he couldn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” He answers with a fleeting small smile, a hidden proudness behind his words even though he half-heartedly tried to hide it. “But that still doesn’t make it alright. Are you sure you’re okay being here?”

You let out a deep breath before nodding up at him, forcing on a brave face so that this would be over with and you’d be reunited with your wand and on to face the next challenge that was waiting for you on the main floor.

“I’m fine, let’s go,” you say quickly. You grab onto the sleeve of his dress shirt and continue down the hall with him, entirely oblivious to the large statue standing tall at the far end of the way, right outside the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. Hanging upside down from the top of the statue by a thick piece of rope was Amycus, bloodied and bruised and very obviously frustrated. You didn’t see him, but Draco did, and before you could notice the presence of the man who has shaken your reality with desolation and agony, you were being moved hastily towards the door of the room where your wand was lost in.

“I’ll meet you inside, give me a second,” he urged as he opened the door for you and continued to gently try to shove you inside. You turned to give him a questioning look, wondering why he unexpectedly was becoming so antsy in getting you inside. He stared back at you with a feeble pout and his eyebrows creased, a clear sign that whatever he was up to; he didn’t want you to be around for it.

“Fine,” you mumbled, forcing yourself into the poorly lit room to begin your search.

It felt sickening and nauseating being in the room again. Images of the painful night passed by in your head like a nightmare that you were made to relive as soon as you walked in. You wanted to reach out for Draco again, looking back towards the doorway where you thought he would be standing but he wasn’t and the room felt emptier than it did before. You walked towards the door, holding on to the stone wall to keep you from collapsing and peeking out from behind it to see if you could spot the waves of silver hair nearby doing whatever it was that he was so adamant about keeping hidden from you.

You watched as he walked down the corridor briskly, wholly focused on something or rather someone as he moved like he was on a mission with his wand gripped tightly in his right hand.

Draco swore he was seeing red blind his vision, rage coursing through his veins as he came closer to the hanged man. He squatted down in front of him when he finally reached him, his forearms resting over his knees and twiddling around his wand in his hands with the utmost feeling of satisfaction from the sight in front of him.

The man who constantly berated and belittled him and his family, the man who made it his goal to make his life a living hell inside and out of Hogwarts, and worst of all, he was the same man who tortured and kidnapped his lover on multiple occasions now. The man who went out of his way to ruin people.

He was nothing but a fragment of what he was only hours ago, defeated and physically almost unrecognizable if it wasn’t for his murderous beady eyes and permanently scowling mouth.

“What? Are you going to kill me now, boy?” Amycus questioned sarcastically. “Everyone knows you’re too weak. Go ahead, prove them wrong.”

:readmore:

He gave in to the itching to press his wand against Carrow’s throat, letting the hawthorn tip dig harshly into his artery. The killing curse was ready to roll off his tongue and put an infinite end to the destruction Amycus brought. He wanted it more than anything, to be the one who took him out, but as the idea became more realistic with each passing millisecond and with his hand starting to tremble, he knew he couldn’t do it. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to, how much he deserved it; he couldn’t.

“I knew you couldn’t,” Amycus croaked once Draco’s wand moved away from his throat.

“I’m not like you,” he mutters bitterly. “I’m not a murderer.”

“You’re right,” Carrow responds coldly. “You’re nothing. You’re a blood traitor, you’re weak.“

Amycus’ words were a broken record to him, the same phrases being repeating over and over again like a never-ending torturous cycle of all his biggest insecurities enlaced within a few remarks. If it was a year ago, maybe even a few months ago, or weeks - he would have believed his insults. Just like he always did when they were fired at him, he doubted himself and his character, his strength and skills. But he was growing tired of giving in to his struggles, of giving in to false beliefs.

"Is blood traitor the only insult anyone’s got?” The classic sneer on Draco’s face was one he always used to wear, his blood boiling even further as he stared down at Amycus’ careless expression. Even if he was hung upside down, body battered and bruised, his evil spirits never left him.

“It’s the only one that matters,” he replied. “You think you got yourself all sorted out now? You think those people down there would welcome you with open arms knowing where your family’s loyalties lie? You’re looking for someone to blame for your troubles, blame that foul muggle-loving darling of yours. I was only ever trying to help you.”

“Help?” He let out a disbelieving scoff mixed with a short chuckle, “is that what you call threatening the lives of the people I love?”

As you watched from afar, gnawing at your bottom lip anxiously while grasping the doorway in fear that in any second the script could flip and it would be Draco who was in danger. You wanted to intervene, you could see Carrow’s eyes darting around the corridor, switching gazes between you and the blond raging over him and you were scared that evil would conquer and he’d somehow find a way to hurt the two of you without either of you expecting it.

“It doesn’t matter what I tell you anymore, you’re lost.”

It was Carrow’s sheer tone of confidence that pushed Draco over the edge he was teetering off of. He stood up from his kneeling position without wasting another breath. Amycus Carrow was purely wicked and there was no point in trying to make conversation with him.

The interaction just solidified Draco’s wrath, and though he refused to kill him, he wasn’t past causing him pain and he wasn’t above using the Death Eater’s body as a receiving end to his crucio. His time with the enemies did increase his power and his effectiveness. He didn’t even have to say the spell or force his will to do it, it just flowed from the tip of his wand and seeped itself deep within Carrow’s body. He made sure to wordlessly use the ‘oscausi’ spell before his torment as well, glad to see Amycus’ mouth disappearing and shutting him up before his agonizing screams met your ears, something he didn’t want you to hear no matter how much this monster deserved it.

He continued his torture until he was pleased; until he saw tears of blood escaping beady eyes and defeat completely wash over the man. Draco lowered his wand, letting out a breath of relief and eyeing the disaster in front of him again. Amycus thrashed around, his momentary defeat fading away as his swinging body attempted to break free but the younger Death Eater wasn’t finished either.

He lifted his knee, the Italian leather shoes he wore were the last thing Amycus saw that day before Draco slammed his foot down onto his face with a powerful kick, knocking him out cold and fast. He checked for a pulse, found a weak one, and nodded to himself with satisfaction.

That was enough for him.

When he turned back on his heels to rush down the hall, he wasn’t expecting to see you standing at the end of it where he purposefully hadn’t left you. He briefly stopped in his steps, watching you cautiously to see if what you caught had bothered you, but it didn’t. You briskly began walking towards him, his body still in a bubbling rise of fear until you were in front of him wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. You felt him relax in your touch, his hands smoothing over your lower back and encircling around your hips.

“I’m sorry you had to witness me like that,” he apologizes with pained eyes. “I just had to make him hurt.”

“I understand, Draco,” you sympathize with his revenge. Although you didn’t particularly enjoy seeing your lover so violent, Amycus was someone whose downfall had been long overdue.

Draco walked with you into the dingy office, the stone floor covered in hundreds and thousands of tiny gravel particles that shook from the ceilings with each hit the castle took from the outside. You heard a muttered 'Lumos’ coming from the blond, the majority of the room now all of a sudden glowing with a cold white light, flashes of your last moments in there flickering across your mind like a nightmare you couldn’t escape now that everything was becoming visible. You took a deep breath, moving forward hesitantly in short scuffles around the area you saw your wand discarded when it was taken from you.

It was hard to look around, the flood of emotions almost running completely through you as tears pooled in your eyes faster than you could try to blink them away. You were positive Draco couldn’t see you or hear the small sniffles you were trying to play off by talking about how dusty it was, but he was too observant and never dumb when it came to you.

He sighed to himself, his heart dropping to his stomach slightly when he saw how your gaze shifted around the room and the floor anxiously as though you were reliving whatever you had gone through in those moments when he couldn’t save you. He reached out for your hand, his cold fingertips brushing against your palm and snapping you out of the daze you were in with a small almost inaudible gasp. He gently tugged you behind him, lowering his wand towards the ground and kicking around some of the debris until he finally saw the familiar wand he loved to see in your hands.

“There,” he announces quietly, bending down to pick it up and dust it off on his dress shirt as if dirt had never bothered him in his life. “Back where it belongs.” He places it into your palm carefully, your hand encircling around the wand tightly and holding it against your chest lovingly as if it was alive. He smiled down at you, his hand reaching up to rest on the back of your hair while he gingerly pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, darling,” he responds softly.

He took your hand again in the direction of the exit, hurrying you out of the room in quick strides until you were out into the corridor and around the corner leading you to the grand staircases.

He hesitated at the first step that would begin the descent to the first floor where the entirety of Hogwarts was gathered in the Great Hall all injured, dead, or alive. He was getting a sudden rush of fear, the same unease repeating in his head that you had already tried to hush away but it still stayed. He didn’t want to be turned away and he didn’t want to feel outcasted anywhere anymore.

“They’re never going to forgive me. They’ll probably cast me outside directly into the line of fire themselves.”

“Draco,” you say softly, placing a gentle palm on his cheek while your fingers brush away the wavy strands hanging over his red-tinged eyes. “In all honesty, it doesn’t matter what they think. They don’t know you or understand you, just what you’ve done and that’s all most of them will ever be able to see. But as long as you know and the people you love know who you are, that’s all that matters. Besides, you’re not alone anymore. You’re stuck with me.”

An amused airy sort of half-laugh escaped his lips, a small smile on his face as he eyed you, the sight in front of him allowing another exhale of relief from his worries.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You feel his fingers graze against your open hand, his pinky absentmindedly linking around yours like you were children making a silent promise to be 'best friends forever.’ “You’re clever, Y/L/N, I’ll give you that. Always knowing what to say to make me feel like I’m on top of the world.”

“It’s because I’ve bewitched you,” you smile stupidly while the blond rolled his eyes.

“So you admit it? Are you slipping me amortentia too?” He searched your playful features, the glint of amusement in your eyes he loved and missed to see that always left him feeling breathless.

“Definitely,” you answer sarcastically. “But enough stalling, let’s go.”

He let you lead him down the stairs, his hand held tightly in yours while his gaze stayed stuck on his feet shuffling slowly down the steps.

Your conversation was rattling around in his head for some reason, his heart a little lighter after the impromptu banter even if it wasn’t the most appropriate time to joke around. But your words brought him back to the times when you weren’t with him; when you were forced to separate. The days and the nights he’d be worried sick with his thoughts in a twist and his chest pounding with worry over your safety.

Sometimes through those thoughts, he would have a very odd and unworldly recurring one now and then that made him wish that really, you were just a smart witch who managed to slip him amortentia every day and that those concerns over you and your life weren’t real. He sometimes felt so deeply that it scared him, feelings so raw that he couldn’t possibly understand and that tore him apart if he wasn’t distracting himself with something else. He couldn’t help but seldom wonder if maybe the non-existent love potion you had on him faded away; so would his fears and feelings. But they never did, they only grew both more pitiful and meaningful in a whirlwind of others.

And though he often hated to admit just how deeply he felt and the vulnerability that came with it, he has no regrets about letting you in. Without you, his world would just be a dark storm of chaos and pain, but with you; there’s a light at the end of a tunnel. You’re the sun, the moon, and all the stars to him that light up his darkest days and help guide him and teach him in more ways than he could ever fathom.

Before he knew it, he was stepping over and maneuvering around debris from the battle, the hand holding yours feeling more clammy as you both witnessed for the first time the aftermath of what just happened in and outside the castle’s walls not too long ago.

The sky was a blackened gray, a thunderous cover still sitting over the night with lingering clouds of smoke that looked like they came from fireworks but had instead been hexes and curses streaming through the air with the build-up of dust from the destruction.

It was painful, seeing people searching around still and calling out for whoever they were looking for. Bodies of Death Eaters and Scattered wands and ends of them that seemed to be snapped in half and dumped randomly. Giant holes blasted in the middle of the walls and so high up towards the tall ceilings that it looked like half the room was gone. It was silent, but mournful cries were ringing throughout the air and groans of pain coming from those who were injured. Everyone you had seen so far looked just like you and Draco did; dirty, disheveled, anxious, and dazed in a numb state.

You felt him get closer to you when you walked towards the wide-open doors of the Great Hall that sounded busier as you approached. You could feel the turmoil inside, the grief and the pain. Emotions were running high and strongly enough so that anyone who entered the room would feel it.

Draco swallowed thickly as he looked around, his stomach churning with shame as if it were his fault why everything and everyone was in anguish.

You looked up at him almost knowingly, your thumb soothingly running back and forth over the back of his hand while you gently squeezed it. You knew him well enough that he would start blaming himself, just like he always did much to your dismay.

You continued to lead him through the masses, both of you ignoring the furious glances in your direction as you trailed through with the very prominent silver-haired Slytherin who everyone now knew was associated with the Dark Lord and his servants. You heard a couple of hateful mutters, but it was relatively quiet as you ignored those too and kept your search for Madam Pomfrey with trembling and careful steps. Draco kept his eyes downcast, some of the spots of blood on the ground made him feel dizzy but it was better than anything else in his surroundings that he refused to acknowledge any more than he already had.

Madam Pomfrey was scurrying around a back corner when you finally found her, sweat dripping down her face and her uniform stained with grime and scarlet marks. The second she saw you, her hands flew up in surprise on either side of her head, the motion being followed by her hands suddenly clamping over her mouth as a shocked and visibly grateful expression crossed her face.

“Y/N!” She wailed quietly, her hands bunching up at her skirt while she moved around the area to meet you halfway. You weren’t expecting her to pull you into a hug, her hand smoothing over the back of your hair as she pulled away and seemingly inspecting you for any injuries. “I’m so glad you’re okay, dear. I overheard someone saying they saw you and Professor Carrow on one of the top floors and they weren’t sure if you made it out alive before they left. I’ve been worried sick, I don’t know how much more loss I can take.”

You blinked hard, trying to register her impromptu vent and concern over you as if you were the most important person to her in the room. “You worried about me, Madam Pomfrey?”

“Why, of course!” She exclaimed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. “I didn’t watch you grow up, mend your injuries, and help you learn the beauty of healing without growing a soft spot for you. I sometimes feel like you’re the daughter I never had.”

You gave her a warm smile, her random confession making your chest feel a little less heavy. You were sure she was riddled with feeling the need to speak her mind and telling people how she truly felt about them after seeing all the deceased, all the people who she didn’t get a chance to talk to, or whose loved ones didn’t get a chance to either.

“While I have you here, a lot of people need tending and it’s only a few others and myself, would you-”

“No need to ask,” you quickly agreed, it was a no-brainer. Your hands were itching with the need to help, it was the main reason why you chose to come down. “Where do you need me?”

“Anyone you see who needs it.”

She gave a curt nod to Draco who she may or may not have ignored just the slightest and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before she rushed over to someone behind you who had been calling for help.

You turn slowly to scan the room, cot-ridden people some covered in bandages and some holding onto their wounds while they waited for Pomfrey or anyone. You decided to focus on those first, Draco trailing closely behind you as you began making a beeline towards the people who looked to be in the worst shape.

Your wand was now held tightly in your shaking hand, the stress of doing real Healer work being something more common than you could have imagined now being right in front of you. You were still learning, still strengthening your skills but they were still sufficient, a natural gift you carried with you.

The first person you helped was a sixth-year boy, one you remember seeing on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as soon as he was in his second year as one of their more skilled Chasers. You remember seeing him play, so determined and full of rough excitement especially when he would be in a match against Slytherin. But now he was here, bleeding out on a cot with his hands held tightly over a spot on his waist and the light gone from his eyes. He was barely alive, nearly defeated and it made you want to scream out of sadness and frustration.

“Draco, I need your help,” you said quickly as you observed the wound, pulling the boy’s hands away from his side. “I need you to lift him up while I check him from the back.”

“What?” He wished he heard you wrong, but he knew what you were asking him to do.

“I need you to lift him, please, hurry,” you say to him again and this time he hastily moved to lower himself to the ground beside you and timidly began trying to prop the boy up. When he finally was able to, he watched you carefully as you worked diligently. He watched your hands feel around for any more bodily harm, your eyebrows knitted together in deep thought and worry, your bottom lip stressfully caught in between your teeth. You were muttering hopeful remarks to the boy that he would be okay, and as you dragged your wand across the deep gashes with your magical contact and intense care; Draco had realized just how talented you were. You were in your prime, your element, in full force.

After you bandaged the boy up with a quick spell, you allowed Draco to set him back down and began moving to the next without missing a beat.

It was like that for a while, moving around like a robot with one job where nothing else mattered except the saving of a life. You helped every single person you were able to, all the while Draco was admiring your skills with deep respect even while you were ordering him around to help you.

Hours passed, it seemed like. The only indication that time had indeed passed was the brightening of the dull gray sky now welcoming dawn. You had been working relentlessly, so much so, that for a while you forgot where you were and what you were doing there. If it wasn’t for Draco pointing out the new change of day and what everyone was anxiously waiting for - you would have kept healing until you couldn’t.

A flurry of hushed whispers fell amongst the desolated crowd packed inside the Great Hall. People were beginning to stand up and look outwards towards the collapsed gaping hole in the wall that faced the main courtyard where an army of dark-cloaked figures was approaching from the castle’s bridge. Voldemort was returning, and you weren’t sure if it was going to be a fight or the surrender he had promised. You weren’t even sure if Harry went to him, you were clueless about everything and so was Draco.

A mob of students and adults had hesitantly but willfully moved outside through the large hole exposing the outside. They had an air of almost guardianship surrounding them, shoulders squared and hands gripping their wands tightly as they blocked off the opening. Those who wanted to see what was coming had also begun making their way outside, leaving only the injured and the terrified inside.

Draco looked at you expectantly, silently telling you that he needed to be outside too. You knew he’d want to search for his parents and there wasn’t any protest from you as you trailed behind him to the main yard. You stopped beside him on the steps where the majority of the people stood, allowing the two of you to blend in somewhat.

It was quiet but the sound of several footsteps, stopping suddenly with their leader where he wanted and then suddenly all that echoed throughout the courtyard was, “Harry Potter… is dead!”

You held your breath and at the same time felt Draco stiffen next to you. You saw his eyes land first on his parents, they were clear as day just as frightened as he was as they filled out into the courtyard. They stood at the front of the crowd with the rest of the inner circle they were no longer a part of, standing off to the side with sullen and exhausted expressions or terrified, you couldn’t quite tell.

You couldn’t process what vile words were being thrown out into the air by the creature and creator of evil himself, nor could you process the eerie silence that fell upon what seemed like the whole world. There was not a bird in the sky, not a shimmer of sunlight, no butterflies or pixies fluttering around. It was like the Earth was dying alongside everyone. The darkness was devouring the wizarding world, but it was also seeping into the muggle world.

You hadn’t even noticed what was going on, Voldemort’s unsettling speech fading in your ears until you felt Draco’s grip around your hand tighten almost painfully as if he was petrified by something. He felt statuesque beside you, his skin feeling cold and clammy and after a few seconds of a complete dead quietness, you understood why.

“Draco!” Lucius called out loudly in a quavering voice. Your head snapped in his direction, and then towards Draco, his eyes were shifting around him nervously at everyone who had turned to stare at him. He was analyzing them too, wondering if any of them would ask him to stay or to leave. His adam’s apple was bobbing up and down as if he wanted to cry, a trembling breath falling from his lips as his father called for him one more time to come to him.

Your heart was beating through your chest now, your body turning slightly towards his as you wrapped your free hand around his wrist softly. He was being tested and in the worst way possible with a whole expecting audience. The fight between wanting to be good or being with his family was visibly eating him alive; even if it meant betraying himself, he loved his parents and being with them even if it was in awful, wicked circumstances.

You started to feel more frantic when Narcissa stepped forward, her facial expression was like stone, but the emotion swimming behind her eyes was vivid. You saw the same appearance on her the last time you were at the Manor, strong on the outside but troubled on the inside - much like her son. A pale manicured hand was placed on her husband’s shoulder, her lips set in a thin line as she observed Draco and then you. You held your breath, knowing that if she called him to her, he would go. You felt like preparing yourself for the blow that was about to come, for the goodbye, for the letting go again, but nothing ever came.

She waited until Voldemort had his back to her, her eyes locking with yours suddenly and then over to Draco while she smiled ever so slightly, you almost missing it completely before she nodded just as faintly and mouthed, “it’s okay.”

The hold on your hand lessened almost immediately only for him to stiffen again when Voldemort looked back between him and then his parents. You sensed Draco about to lurch forward, but someone else did first.

Neville stepped forward, the attention falling on him now as Voldemort focused his unbelieving stare on him now. But what he thought was a new devoter was actually the complete opposite.

The speech he gave inspired the atmosphere again and gave strength to the people still willing to fight. You held onto Draco’s hand tightly, his head turning to face you with worry at the death-like grip and the tremors shooting down your arms. He was about to take you away, about to run somewhere far away with you in his arms and ready to fight for his life to escape the next fight about to take place. He didn’t want you to bear witness to any more pain and just as he opened his mouth to speak - everyone in the courtyard had audibly and roughly gasped in surprise.

He turned hastily, his gaze following everyone else’s to where Harry now stood, wand in his hand and shooting a spell at the Dark Lord’s snake companion. He saw Voldemort staring back in horror, throwing spells back at Harry’s retreating figure while some of the Death Eaters began to apparate into the air in their signature black mists. That is when Draco found his footing again, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as he damn near pulled you away with all his might.

You cried out in fear, the blasts being sent through the air and screams of spells like repeats of the night before were enough to have your courage muddled once again. This time, though, Draco was going to make it his mission to keep you out of harm’s way.

He ran inside the castle with you, sprinting down the corridors with your hand grasped tightly in his as you passed piles of rubble and the empty portraits that were once alive. He stopped at a random door, forgetting about his wand and rather following his primal instincts to kick at its wooden planks until it swung open to reveal a dark classroom. He kept your hand in his as he maneuvered around the desks with you in the dark, his destination being the small storage room at the very back of the class where it was hidden by some tall display shelves.

The storage closet was cramped and empty, a couple of unlabeled and old dusty bottles of who knows what was left on the shelves above. He moved you inside - but he didn’t follow this time.

“Draco,” you warn. “Where are you going?”

He opened his mouth to answer but he quickly shut it, his head turning around rapidly at the sound of someone running outside the class. That’s when you saw it, a dark mist unexpectedly showed up at the door, a harsh “Malfoy brat!” escaping his mouth as he started running towards Draco with his wand in his hand.

“I love you,” Draco hastily said before slamming the door shut in your face. A clicking sound rang in the little room, your hand reaching for the doorknob he just locked on you to try and rattle it open.

Struggling grunts, loud bangs, and finally a shattering window echoed in your ears despite you being locked in the storage room. You were paralyzed with fear, keeping deathly silent to try and hear if they were still in the room or if someone had been killed. You prayed it wasn’t the latter, increasingly growing angry with Draco for not allowing you to help him. Though you’d complained to him about him not letting you fight beside him, and saved him from being killed by the Death Eater the night before, you understood why he always flees to hide you.

It wasn’t because he thought you were weak, he told you time and time again it wasn’t your skills he was worried about - but his.

You fished out your wand with shaky hands and blurred vision, pointing towards the doorknob with a fervent 'alohomora.’ It slowly opened, your foot kicking it forward only slightly as you cautiously stepped back out into the open. There was no one and nothing there but stained glass window shards on the ground near the middle of the room where the fight between the two undoubtedly happened. You ran towards the mess, leaping up onto a ledge and looking outside the window where Draco was nowhere to be found.

A dry mouth accompanied your fears, a coldness enveloping you with an unwelcome hug as you stepped back onto the ground and made a beeline towards the door of the classroom. You rushed through the hallway, ducking and hiding from Death Eaters as you ran with all your might towards the Great Hall.

It was still packed with people, more injured people than there was the last time you were in there less than an hour ago. Everything moved so fast, your feet carrying you forward without another thought as you bolted through the Great Hall and towards the courtyard.

You almost made it to the opening, your eyes suddenly spotting three heads of bright platinum hair in the distance hiding behind a large fallen pillar before you were met with the cold stone beneath you.

Someone had grabbed your leg as you were running, your body colliding with the floor as you ripped yourself away almost instantly once you realized you had fallen. You looked back with your wand on defense as you prepared to face your attacker, but there was no one.

A pale and almost green-looking older man stared at you with wide fearful irises, pupils blown out and mouth hanging open and moaning in pain. He gestured weakly to his wounded body and the sight nearly made you want to collapse all over again.

You glanced back towards Draco and then again towards the man, the decision in your head already being made with the innate need to want to heal the man before you as you scurried over quickly to tend to him. You used your wand to try and heal some of his more major wounds but some of them wouldn’t close fast enough and you were left with the man falling deeper into pain as he lost more blood.

He started grabbing at your hands, forcefully pushing your wand hand towards his lacerations while you struggled to focus between him and the battlefield where Draco was standing with his parents.

“Please, heal me, please miss,” he begged, pulling your arm again. You were forced to turn away, worry eating away at you as you struggled to center your mind for the spell to close up his wounds. He finally stopped clawing at you, sitting back in defeat as you croaked out the bandaging spell with a shaky hand over the area, and finally saw most of his gashes closing up while you did.

Your momentary focus was cut short when a loud boom roared throughout the area, some of the windows breaking from the frequency of it and your eardrums suddenly pulsing with a high-pitched ringing. You fell back on your hands, your blood running cold as you hastily turned around to look outside. You couldn’t see anything, just a thick unpenetrable cloud of smoke and more chunks of the castle falling. You could feel the ground shake as they connected with the stone pavement, more dust flying up into the air as they did.

You felt like screaming, maybe you were, you couldn’t hear a thing besides the ringing and distant explosions. Hot tears were falling down your face as you pushed yourself up from the ground, stumbling over your feet from how fast you were moving yet feeling so heavy at the same time. You couldn’t stop yourself from trying to run blindly into the cloud of smoke, desperately trying to look for Draco all while praying that you didn’t and instead he moved out of the way.

Your hearing was slowly returning to you; the sound of nothing yet everything was unnerving. Cries and spell incantations and destruction - but also panicked dead silence. You could feel and faintly hear yourself screaming out for Draco, his name echoing brokenly in the darkened air.

It felt like everything was moving in slow-motion, a feeling you don’t think you’d ever get used to no matter how often it happened. It always ensued in the most unanticipated and painful moments, your adrenaline sky-rocketing and your mind moving rapidly, but everything else seemed to move like a stop-motion film.

People had started running out of the smoke and towards the opening in the wall to retreat into the Great Hall. They were coughing violently, some hobbling over and grabbing at themselves from wherever they were in pain. Some brushed past you, some bumped into you as if you weren’t there, some gripped onto your arms and pleaded for you to go inside either because they needed help or were just trying to protect you from moving out of a danger zone. You felt dumb still calling out for Draco, no answer, no speck of white dirtied hair, no one hearing or seeing a thing about him.

The sob stuck in your throat finally tore itself through, your heart dropping to your stomach as Madam Pomfrey appeared near the wall to call out for you to come inside to help again. You didn’t want to leave your spot in the sheer and blind hope that the love of your life would stumble through the area safe and okay. Even when the smoke cleared up and Harry Potter and Voldemort became clear in the courtyard again with their wands fighting against each other, you still didn’t see any sign of Draco.

“Y/N!” Madam Pomfrey called for you again desperately as she ushered people inside. You were sick to your stomach, your vision hazy and your legs weak. You couldn’t stop crying or shaking, all of your worst nightmares abruptly feeling too real for you to handle. Your name was called for again, your heart breaking even further as your feet unwillingly dragged you back inside only to be thrown back into healing people which was ironically the last thing you wanted to do at this moment.

Your tears didn’t stop when you were kneeled and tending to someone’s broken ankle, your whole body trembling still even as you tried to focus and still yourself enough to give them what they needed. All you could think about was Draco and how you might never see him alive again, never feel him, or experience life with him in the way you dreamed of. Every moment you spent with him felt like it was slowly going down the drain; everything you went through - all were just going to be agonizing memories. The recurring nightmarish flush of emotions that felt like they ran through you every other day when you thought Draco was dead was on the forefront now. You swore you were about to empty dry-heave over the person underneath you, forcing down the need to gag even if it was painfully bubbling in your throat.

It was panic all around you, and panic, and more panic - until there wasn’t. You hadn’t even noticed that all the rushing and commotion in the room stopped until you realized you were able to hear your faint weeping and then scattered shocked gasps and a disappearing howl of the wind.

You hastily stood up from your kneeled position over the person you were finished tending, your sight bouncing from every corner of the courtyard where the only visible person in your vision was Harry, his head following the movement of a long whirl of black ashes that were disappearing into the gray and polluted sky from the aftermath of the battle.

The realization hit you a million times over in the few seconds that you watched the ashes vanish into thin air.

Voldemort was gone.

The only thing on Earth that was standing between you and Draco from giving in to each other freely and thoughtlessly. It felt like all your fears had dissipated into the gray hub with the speckled ashes of the Dark Lord, no more worry for the future that no longer looked so bleak - but unknowing again. You couldn’t find Draco anywhere and just as fast as your dread had left you; it came rushing back with a nauseating flood of terror. You were never sure whether to trust your intuition that always sparkled with faith that tried to wash away your worries or your mind that was racing with doubts and pessimistic thoughts telling the rest of your being to relax and lose the blind hope.

You almost tripped over yourself trying to scurry out towards the gathering crowd near the exit, your heartbeat feeling hollow and legs weak and feeling like you were sinking into quicksand. You brought up your elbow to try and maneuver yourself through the growing group of people, but someone with a swift grasp around your arm had stopped you and spun you around directly into their embrace.

Draco was no stranger to you. There was nothing about him that you wouldn’t be able to recognize. You knew it was him the moment your nose brushed against the cool skin of his throat where it still smelled faintly of his cologne. You felt his disheveled hair tickle your cheeks and the soft thankful string of whispers that felt like a warm kiss going past your ear lobes. Your arms were tight around his neck, not caring about the possibility that you might be choking him but he was holding onto your waist just as hard and unknowingly spinning you both around in a slow and dazed way that felt like gravity was pulling you both together as he rocked you carefully back and forth in his hold. Your endless hot tears were falling onto his collarbones and soaking the neckline of his shirt, his physical presence almost being too much for you after you had accidentally convinced yourself of his death.

“I thought you died,” you mumble out muffledly into his chest. “I saw you and then there was a blast and-”

“You forget I can apparate, Y/L/N?” He whispers the question.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were still tightly held in Draco’s arms, propping your chin on his shoulder as you held your breath from the beauty that was unveiling itself right in front of you. You were facing the opening to the courtyard, the dense gray thunderous clouds in the orange and blue sky were quickly disappearing as if they were being magically blown away like they didn’t belong there.

The sun was beaming down on you, the rays kissing every inch of your face with a warmth that filled you with peace. You hadn’t seen the sun in so long, bright and shimmering in all its glory like it was the first day of summer. Birds and other small flying creatures were soaring through the air again, the chirps and songs of dawn that began the new day were beautifully loud as if they were alarms that were waking everyone up from a nightmare.

It felt like the morning of a day you were yearning so long for, a day that felt like the equivalent of events that you were just so thrilled for and couldn’t wait for, where you spent the night before wide-awake with adrenaline and couldn’t sleep because of how excited you were for what lied ahead; like the day before you began your first-year at Hogwarts. Otherworldly and full of awe and wondrous hope for a future that was now infinite.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to tear your stare away from the scene. You leaned back, his hands still resting on your hips to hold you in place as you gazed into his waiting eyes but it was enough to make you feel speechless again. You wanted to kiss him with every fiber in your being, feel his touch from head to toe.

You took a look around you and saw everyone in a mix of joyous tears, celebratory hugs, and kisses.

“Are you alright?” He asked you quietly, soft concern entangled between his words, eyebrows furrowed and eyes focused on yours attentively. “I’m sorry I left you in the storage closet. I was going to go in with you, I swear, but I heard someone coming and-”

“It’s okay, Draco,” you cut him off, releasing a huff of air, “I’m alright and I understand. Thank you.” You gave him a teary smile. He returned the grin half-heartedly, one of his hands coming up from behind your back and carefully moving a flyaway out of your face.

“Good.” He let out breathily. “Now let’s get out of here for a minute.”

His fingers interlocked with yours, his arm tugging you slightly in the direction he wanted to take you in as he turned on his heel and began towards the Great Hall’s main doors. It felt foreign now that it was riddled with every awful thing that just happened, stained and etched into the stone walls for the rest of Hogwarts history.

Everything was different now, it looked and felt like so in the clearest way.

You were walking through the large meadows blossoming throughout the outside of the school now that the sun was out and all its beings that came with its bright renewing light. Tall blades of grass brushed across your ankles, flowers, and weeds latching themselves onto your calves slightly as if they were hugging your lower limbs like they were old friends.

He was taking you towards your tree, its lively branches twirling around in the whistling gales flowing through it. It snowed white and pink wispy petals and bright green leaves, the pieces of nature flying excitedly in the air as they fell all around you or disappeared into the passing breeze.

There was a pause when you both stopped in your steps in front of the sentient’s trunk, right underneath all its shaking twigs. Your hands stayed in each other’s grasp, but no words were said yet. No reactions or outbursts, just blankness written on his perfect face if you ignored the wrinkle in his brow you were sure was permanent now as it was always there.

“How do you feel?” You ask almost hesitantly, the thickness in the air growing by the second from his silence.

“I don’t know.” He sounds far away. His head was in a million other places than where he was. “It’s odd, I thought I’d-” He stopped himself. You caught the disappointment that flashed across his icy eyes.

“What is it?” You waited. You hoped you didn’t sound too eager, however the innate need you felt now to ease away all his worries always had you ready at your feet to bring him some sort of peace.

“I thought it would feel happier,” he mumbles, looking up at you with vast watery eyes. “He’s gone, but he left me with nothing.”

You frown at his reveal. You could sense the uneasiness inside him as the adrenaline from watching the Dark Lord disappear into thin air had rapidly passed for him. He was realizing now that his problem was no longer Voldemort, but his life that got thrown off its track in the process.

“And the worst of it all,” he mutters bitterly, his tears now rushing angrily down his face in muddy streaks. You felt him roughly pull his left sleeve up, pitiful sniffles emitting from him as he struggled helplessly to fold the fabric up his arm.

You placed a careful hand over his trembling ones, stopping his wild movements as you tried your best to hush him into comfort. It seemed like the simplest things work for him when they come from you, centering all his anger and sadness so abruptly it almost feels like he gets brought back down to Earth after being launched into space. He was still livid and ashamed, but for your sake only, he kept himself from moving recklessly and calmed his haphazardness.

“It’s still there,” he let out defeatedly, dragging his fingers across the faded black ink on his skin. You could still make out the skull and the snake, its form still clear as day, just significantly less opaque on his arm.

Draco felt let down almost. He built up the excitement of thinking he would be able to get rid of that horrible mark one day if Voldemort ever got defeated, but the day was finally here and yet it still stained him as a reminder of the worst years of his life that he wanted to do everything in his power to forget.

“I seem to remember telling you the night you first showed it to me,” you trailed off as you replaced the hand over his mark with yours. “That, while I know you hate it and I know it hurts to see it. It’s not you. And one day, forth from today, it’s going to be so faint that it’ll just be a reminder of how you survived and got through the most difficult point of your life. I know you want to forget, but this won’t ever be something you can just ignore. It’s going to be with you forever and the only thing you can do is move forward and try towards the future you dreamed of when you thought it was impossible. I believe in your future, Draco. You can still be who you want to be.”

He would never be able to fully explain to you how appreciative he was for you; for your entire existence and your presence in his life. He couldn’t fathom how much the flurry of emotions that ran through his body affected him due to your reassuring words dripping from your lips like honey. Simple skin-to-skin contact from you, or even just a look - could send his mind into a hurricane like that. He doesn’t think he’ll get over it, ever.

The feeling of you.

Draco took a shuddering breath, allowing the unexpected warm air to fill his lungs and hopefully rid his body of its anxious random quivering. He didn’t want to cry anymore in front of you, nor did he want to sadden you on what was supposed to be a relieving day.

Unfortunately for him, you were able to read him instantly. You finally cracked the code of Draco Malfoy and what he looked like when he was withholding words or sentiments from you. When he was genuinely troubled with his thoughts. Or any other beautiful or haunting expression that settled itself onto his porcelain features. Your speech to him had touched the deepest depths in his heart and eased his worries tremendously, but he couldn’t shake the anxiety gnawing at him.

Right now, he was looking spooked and pained. His expression wasn’t as harsh as it had been for the last many months you’ve known him now, but it was still clear he was disturbed. You knew nothing you said or did for him would be able to completely erase the events that transpired and changed not only his world but the whole wizarding world - and yours. Everyone had overextended their body, minds, powers, and efforts for the sake of a bright future with the endless possibilities that no one would ever take for granted again.

All you were able to do for him right now was gently tug his arm to wordlessly ask him to sit in the grass with you, to which he complied, and you embraced him with every intention of never letting go. Something about the way you wrapped your whole self around him made him feel grateful all over again and most of all, safe. Your hands ran up and down his back soothingly, every once in a while one snaked up his neck and played with the hair on the back of his head, nails grazing soft circles onto his scalp. Your chest was flush against his and he couldn’t help moving you onto his lap to wrap his arms around you tighter and bring you impossibly closer.

This was the first time, he realized, that when he closed his eyes and saw the darkness surrounding his vision - it wasn’t bleak. It wasn’t hopeless as it had been just over an hour ago. It was like a huge iron weight had been lifted off his chest, the figurative anchor tugging him to the bottom of his despair was cut free and he felt himself slowly but surely coming back up to the surface. The drowning feeling in him wasn’t overwhelming anymore.

Draco was unsure of whether or not his steady breathing was because he had automatically begun matching his inhales and exhales to the rise and fall of your chest against him, or if it was because of the continuous realization that the Devil looming over his fate was gone, but he was grateful.

Merlin, he was so grateful.

He was fine for a second. But then something much worse came to mind.

The thoughts of what would happen after Voldemort’s death quickly changed from him wondering how can he move forward with his life and now tainted past, to realizing what he and his family did was a crime. An extremely unforgiving crime in his world and one punishable by an eternity of imprisonment in the worst place imaginable. A place that if he didn’t have the soul sucked out of him physically, he would lose it himself with time as he rotted away.

Draco felt his breathing switch from steady to ragged almost instantaneously again. His hands were suddenly on your hips, carefully sliding you off of him and scooting away from you so that he could gather himself. He couldn’t look at you right now, feeling insanely guilty for who he was and how you didn’t deserve to deal with his mess. You didn’t deserve to keep getting put through hell for him and he hated knowing that everything awful that had happened to you has been directly linked to him, caused by him indirectly.

"Draco,” you call out to him gently. You saw the panic in his eyes, his cheeks growing red with dread, and his fingers pulling at his white strands. You feared for him, his heart, and his mind. You wanted to cry with him, understanding that he wasn’t going to be okay for a while.

“I’m so pathetic, I’m sorry,” he expressed to you meekly.

“What’s wrong, love?” You try again. You crawled over to him, stopping in front of him where he was hugging his knees to his chest and sobbing into the fabric of his pants. His cries broke your heart like they did every time, the pain always evident in his wavering voice. “Maybe I can help?”

“No, Y/N,” he muttered weakly. “You can’t help me on this one.”

“How do you know that if you won’t tell me what it is.” You frown at his stubbornness. You noticed his attempt at trying to take a deep breath to answer you and the way his head slightly shook from side to side.

“Unless you can stop the ministry from banishing me to Azkaban,” he finally spits out with a

Dating Draco Malfoy// Cottagecore Moodboard

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