NATALIA [Draco Malfoy Fanfiction]

Twenty-Eight | At Ease

The weeks continue to pass, and near misses with death eaters begin to become more of a commonality.

I continued to work with my connect with Potter, finding moments where I'm able to watch the world through his eyes. I'm able to communicate with him when he's asleep, and through mirrors and small messages on paper, though I'm more aware of how much these moments truly drain me, and I'm cautious in not overdoing it. But, I don't make any attempt on Voldemorts. Not after what happened last time.

I once asked Potter if he had ever tried to work his way into my mind, and do what I can do to him, but he told me he hasn't been able to find the connection.

"My connection to Voldemort has to do with the attempt he made on my life all those years ago, making it an uneven distribution of control. I think your connection to me has to do with a power that's able to pass on from generation to generation—making it stronger than my connection to you."

"How do you figure that?"

He smiled at me through the mirror I had found myself in: "Hermione. I usually trust her judgement."

"Fair enough."

We left it at that.

The first time we had a run in with a death eater, we had been checking out of our place in Berlin when a witch had gone up to Draco and asked him if she knew him, her mark visible through the white blouse that she wore.

Acting fast, Draco had obliviated the conversation from her mind, and we apparated right after, leaving no time for her to put the pieces together once again.

We had been so rattled by the moment, we didn't leave our next safe house for 72 hours, and stuck to the sheltered walls like they were our only hope of survival. Yet, eventually, we realized that it was inevitable, and that we were going to have to emerge at some point—we just had to be ready to fight.

Sometimes, we'd travel back to safe-houses we had previously been, and I found a certain comfort in returning to rooms I had already grown accustomed to, going through the routines I had previously formed. But, in a way, Draco became my greatest comfort, the only real consistency in every place we travelled to.

I slowly began to fill my sketchbook with the places we've been, especially when they all started to blur together, making notes in the margins about what happened where. My cat, Loki, often joined me in these sessions, curling up next to me on a couch and watching as I'd sketch.

Sometimes, Draco would sit with me too, pretended to read the paper with a cup of tea when, in reality, I'd catch him watching from the corner of my eye. A sly smile would creep onto my face then, but I'd never say anything more, and let him watch in peace.

We're able to combat the dysphoria better as time went on, picking up little mementos wherever we went and taking joy in their presence like their memory was something I was meant to cherish rather than a reminder that we were on the run.

It had been our second night in Ravenna when we found ourselves at dinner, surrounded by live music.

"You have to admit," I said to him from across the table, "those mosaics we saw look like they had been charmed."

Ravenna was good in that the only real magical influences it had came from the outskirts of the town, making it a relatively safe place to mingle with the locals. So, I was able to convince him to to take some time to visit the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, as well as the San Vitale. But, it was Mausoleum that seemed to stick out for both of us.

Draco shrugged my remark off a little too indifferently, making me laugh when he refused to meet my eye. "I mean, come on now," I exclaimed, "the way the light danced off the walls? It was magical."