Living In My Head (Drarry)

Chapter 56: Long Story, Short

A.N.
Chapter song: Elegy op. 24 (composed by Gabriel Faure)

As I watch Dobby, his steps slow as he sweeps into a dustpan. I let my eyes travel over his hands, then to his expression, lost in thought.

"What happened to Draco? He looked really sick for a while there, in the album." My question makes his expression darken, his back turning rigid.

"It's a long story."

"I have time."

"It's also not my place to tell," Dobby clarifies.

I sigh, nodding, "Right." I nod, my voice tinged with bitterness. "Anyhow, I'm going upstairs to read, if you want to join me."

Dobby heard the invitation in my tone, "I'll be up soon. I need to prepare the house for the next party."

Leaving him alone, I retrieved the book from upstairs and laid across the couch comfortably. Narcissa walked through the front door, closing the door behind her, and turning to face me, her eyes blown wide with shock when she saw me.

"Oh, Harry. You... startled me."

"I was just reading, Lady Narcissa." I tell her, smiling a little in amusement as she grins over the nickname.

"Lady Narcissa? Am I of pure, royal blood, now?" her tone teasing, putting a lock of hair behind her ear as she retrieves a bag from the kitchen.

"Well, you do live in a castle."

"It's a manor, Harry, not a castle."

She knew I was trying to goad conversation out of her, but she didn't seem to mind.

"A castle of sorts, then," I correct myself, "a castle relative to houses."

She nodded, her smile fading, "I left my bag behind, I didn't think you were still here. I had assumed you left because of how Draco had been acting."

"How had he been acting?" I asked, curious.

"Like he'd been dumped," she answered honestly. "I'd only seen him act like that one other time, though it was a different story." I was going to ask why, but her expression betrayed a look of shame, like she'd said too much. "I have to go back to work. Tell Draco that if he wants to, he can take his bike and you two can go drive to town for the night. I know he's dying to get out of this house, Harry. He feels caged here. Please show him a good time, I'm counting on you."

She waved over her shoulder as she stepped out the door, giving me a sense of peace. Narcissa may not be the best mom in the world; she's passive, distant, and submissive- but she genuinely wants the best for Draco, even if she is too scared to do it herself. For that, I can commend her.

Returning to the book, the story takes a turn. It is no longer about the war of an endless dictatorship, no longer about the death of thousands, it became about the love between two refugees. The love between them could end the war, it could end the war in fire, or in peace. The story is pessimistic, the world around the young couple divided in every way, so they grew apart.

I'm not liking this story...

...

Draco returned home soon after I finished reading the book. My eyes were tired, and my mind was weary from the story's ending. Once he stepped through the door I found myself reaching for him, needing him.

Dobby, having left back for the basement once I was too into the book to read to him anymore, was nowhere to be seen. Draco seemed worn out but smiled when he saw me, hugging me close. I repeated his mother's message to him.

"Once we drive down there, we wouldn't have very long to look around before things get too dark."

I nodded in understanding, "We could take a walk."

Smiling, he took my hand and lead me to the hall closet. "It may not be super cold during the daytime but you'll need these at night, trust me."

He helped me put on a plump winter coat, a woolen scarf, and gloves. He put on the same, but all a bit larger and in green while mine were a mix of colors. We walked out onto the deck and down the stairs, making our way through the dusting of snow, towards the lakeside.

"Draco, I thought we were going to take a walk?"

"I want to show you something first." The words seemed hollow, faded, and I wondered what he possibly could have wanted to show me. The walk was slow, the grass crunching beneath our shoes. When we got closer, I realized that we were going to a graveyard.

He opened the metal gate with twitching fingers, having taken his gloves off to better unlock the picketed fencing. The door squeaked open, falling inward due to elevation, and he lead me inside.

I see names: Black, Lupin, Malfoy, Lestrange, all these names... and something feels wrong about it. "Draco, why did you bring me here?"

"The doctor said I cracked ribs, meaning no bad fractures or breaks, but all-in-all, I'll be right as rain in a few weeks."

"You're avoiding the question." I press, my hand squeezing his to make him look at me.

"He could've done much worse, Harry. I could've been seriously injured."

"Draco, what are you getting at?"

"What I said, about 'your honor', I'd meant that my father questioned your motives for staying by my side. He thinks you may be involved with me to become allies with a rich, powerful, and influential family." I was about to defend myself but he shook his head, "Don't bother, I know that isn't the reason. I just, I want you to know what you're getting into. I don't want you to have any regrets."

"Regrets? Like what?" I asked.

His eyes turned glassy, "I'm more than a little broken, Harry. Not just because I'm bruised up. I have baggage, damage, I could never ask you to accept-"

"I understand more than you think I do," I offered, touching the top of an unmarked headstone. "I'm a big boy, Draco."

"If you insist," Draco teased weakly, "Come on, let's go out for that walk."