Something Golden

47.

January 1 1997

It's almost noon by the time I make it back to Hogwarts. Voldemort wasn't upset when I gave him the news of Isaacs death but he did assign me the task of finding his replacement. Isaacs wasn't of much importance but he did serve a purpose, we all do. Finding a replacement was as easy as picking a name out of a cauldron but proving that they were the right fit was what took so long.

Initiations into new roles is taken very seriously. Every opportunity we are offered is supposed to be seen as a privilege, we are to be grateful – willing to do anything to prove ourselves worthy.

When I was promoted I had to demonstrate my skills, my ability to do whatever is needed and most of all my loyalty. I tortured six, fought in hand to hand combat with five (till death, of course) and underwent the crucio for hours at the hands of the dark lord himself.

Henders, Isaacs replacement, had it easy in my opinion. It was primarily a lot of questioning and he only had to exhibit his knife work on one individual. At the end of the session he walked away only missing a toe, other than that, he was left unharmed. The paperwork is what drowned me. So much fucking paperwork. I'd be fine if I never saw another piece of parchment again in my life.

Granger is awake when I enter my room and by the looks of it she never went to sleep in the first place. She immediately jumps from the bed and runs over to me, launching her body into my arms. It's a moment of relief holding her, knowing that she's okay but it only lasts for so long.

After what she saw today I know she's going to have countless questions, she's going to try and insert herself and mend things, as if that were even a possibility.

"Granger." I exhale. "I should be upset with you for the stunt you pulled."

"But you're not?" She asks.

Oh no. I am. I'm fucking livid. This woman is going to stress me to death. I love how strong minded she is, how she stands tall for what she believes in but I just wish it wasn't always the opposite of what I tell her to do. She has easily aged me by fifty years at this point.

"I don't have the energy to be upset with you right now." I tell her, stripping off my clothes as I walk over to my bed. "Come here."

She crawls up the mattress, plopping her body down directly on top of mine, her curls tickling my chin as she lays her head down on my chest.

"Draco, can I-"

"Granger, can you please let me sleep for a little before you ask your million questions? I'm tired, love."

My eyes are closed but I can feel her shift slightly in my arms, her head lifting to look at me for a moment before resting it back down. She doesn't speak another word and I'm grateful, allowing the exhaustion to finally defeat me.

By the looks of the dark sky just outside my window I presume it's sometime late in the evening when I finally wake. Granger, of course, is already up, smiling as she stares at me.

"You look very peaceful when you sleep." She tells me. "The most serene I've seen you."

"Perhaps it's because it's the only time nothing is expected of me." I say casually, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Her face falls, eyes drowning in sadness. It kills me that this pity filled look is for me. I do not wish to be pitied, I do not deserve to be. What I do is for survival, yes, but at the end of the day I'm still the one making the choice, to be the way that I am.

"I want you to tell me." She says.

"Tell you what?"

"Everything."