Counting On Letters

Chapter three: Recalling the past. (Present)

June first, 1998.

Draco sat alone in his room at the three broomsticks, head hanging low. He had been waiting and so far no new memories had appeared. No mysterious notes, no changed decisions... nothing. Just his past.

He let out a shaky breath and clawed his nails into his palm. Of course this wouldn't work. How could it? He would never be forgiven for all he's done. That's why he's awaiting a trial, that's why, in a few weeks, he'll likely have his own cell in Azkaban.

He knew he deserved it after all he did but that doesn't mean it's any easier to cope with. Everything was going to complete shit and it was almost entirely his fault. If he hadn't done half of the things he had, he may not be in this situation. He may be getting a job, meeting people, anything but sulking in a filthy rented room.

Draco, though, was snapped out of his thought when he heard a quiet knock on his door.

"Draco? May I come in?" Came the weak voice of Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco didn't answer.

"Draco... please? We need to talk about the trail-" Draco stood up and opened the door.

"There's no point mother. We've been over this." Draco said cooly, his vacant eyes fixated on the floor.

"Draco, please. Just let me in."

Draco stood still for a moment, seemingly attempting to make up his mind, before making room for his mother.

Narcissa stepped inside, scanning the room. Draco's clothes littered the mud stained floor, books lay half open the desk and bed, and the curtains were drawn completely shut.

She frowned.

"Draco... you really should-"

"Don't, mother." He grumbled as he shut his door, then made his way to his unmade bed. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to remind you of the plan for the trials. As long as you stick to it, there's a strong possibility that you walk out of there free." Narcissa said hopefully. "You must keep to the plan."

Draco's eyes sharpened. "You just expect me to blame father?"

"It's not blaming, necessarily, it's only-"

"Completely ignoring the fact that I did all of it willingly?"

Narcissa's lips drew into a line. "You were a child. You were scared."

"You don't know what I was. Don't act like you do. I've killed people."

Narcissa drew in a sharp breath. "Draco, you haven't-"

"I may have not been the one to speak the spell," Draco started, seemingly completely apathetic, "But I was the one to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I caused everything that happened after that. All the deaths, the abuse, everything."

"You cannot put the blame solely on yourself, I'm as much at fault as you. I allowed it all to happen. I should have been stronger, I should have stopped you from getting the mark! You were a child!" Narcissa pleaded.

"Children don't attempt murder, mother. I've not been a child for years." Draco gritted out. "Leave. I'd like to be alone."

"Draco-"

"I said leave."

Narcissa opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself. Instead she cupped Draco's face and whispered an 'I love you' before making an exit, leaving Draco to sleep.

Draco woke up to an odd feeling, like he had forgotten something.

His eyebrows knit as he tried to think. What was he forgetting? Did he forget to eat again yesterday? Or did he forget to wash his hair? Or send a letter? No. He has no one to send it to.

Letters... he could remember getting a strange letter when he was younger. A letter that told the future. It's strange, the memory is old but it seemed strangely new.

His eyes suddenly went wide and a smile graced his face for the first time in a long time. This was it, this was the new memory. This changes everything.