Never • The Lost Daughter | A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter 67 - Whispers

"What kind of magic?"

"The exact term escapes us. What I did know was that the ring had to be destroyed the same way the diary was. And I did."

"This all sounds very strange to me. You found a diary you knew was charmed and you knew my ring was as well. And even if you don't know what it was, you destroyed it all the same," I repeated to try and understand it myself. "How? How did you know? How did you find out? How did you destroy it?"

"These objects have something in common. They are all polluted with Dark Magic by the same wizard. They all belong to the same wizard. They all lead to one person. Your father. And they leave traces. One thing leads to the other and a diary lesds to a ring and a ring leads to who knows where. Because, make no mistake, there are more of these things. And they all have to be destroyed."

"This is why you came to the Weasley's house. This is why you were in my room that day after the public speech! You were searching my things."

"I couldn't have told you. It was a secret and even I didn't exactly know what I was searching for, if I'd find it, if it was indeed in your possession or if you'd give it to me if I asked you. We lacked a bit of communication during these days," he apologized.

"And it seems to me that you have no intention of changing that. You should have told me. If you'd told me it was about Voldemort I would do it. Why would I need the damn thing anyway?"

"I was afraid to tell you, Annalise."

"You understand, though, that this is not a way someone trustworthy acts. You told me that you would never lie again. You've done it again just now. I don't know why I'm still trusting you. I don't know why I'm still sitting here, talking to you and not walking out as any reasonable person would."

"All I do, I do for the greater good," he answered steadily and I understood.

Albus was not going to change now. He would hide a million things from me if he thought he should. What could I do? Nothing, really. He was my only family and I had already had my fair share of disbelief. All I would do not was try and make the best of it.

"Now, you have to give it back to me."

"This is quite dangerous, Annalise. See what it has done to me!" he said and showed me his right fingers, the skin was dead and black, the bones were showing under the skin.

"This won't happen to me. I've worn it before. Give it to me, let me show you," I said and spread my hand out. Dumbledore gave the ring to me and I wore it. Nothing happened, and it felt as it had felt before; as soon as it touched my fingers I heard something like white noise in my ears. It was not there after a second.

"How can this be?"

"Maybe my father made up a charm especially for me," I said. "I bet he must be searching for it."

"I bet he wants it back. He wants you back because of it."

*     *     *

I left Albus' office later that evening, after studying each and every letter every newspaper had said. I'd narrowed it down to two interviews and I would have a fortnight to prepare for them.

My feet lead me to the Astronomy Tower nearly without realising it. I didn't intend on going there but I simply thought there was no reason going downstairs for Dinner anymore. I expected to see the room empty; everyone should be at the Great Hall.

Instead, I found Draco standing next to the railing and leaning over. He'd sunk his head between his shoulders and was looking down the lace.

I thought I heard whispering. He was talking to himself.

Soon he started sobbing.

I wanted to go there and comfort him so badly, but something inside me knew that it was a bad idea. I counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours that he was crying. I counted the tears and the times he repeated the same words.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry," he kept repeating bitterly like someone was stabbing him through the heart, as if he couldn't breathe.

The same thing happened the next night.

And the night after that.

And I felt ashamed that I couldn't find the courage to talk to him.

No. I remained hidden in the shadows, watching him getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker, sadder and sadder every living second of his life. And then I kept regretting and cursing for not being there to make him feel better. And then I would think that this might have been my fault as well. Maybe it was all my fault that we weren't together anymore.

And then I would cry too.

I would look at myself in the mirror, realising that the same things that happened to him also happened to me. Getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker, sadder and sadder every living second of my life.

*     *     *

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