Chilled Legacy

Chilled Legacy XX: The Search Part 2

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But he was alive.

Draco ignored the question. "It's pretty here."

"Town is even better. Lots of fishing, kayaking, tourism. The outskirts of anything gets boring."

It became quite again for a while. Draco could feel his eyes demanding to close, but he thought of Luna and they widened again. He glanced around his surroundings again. The houses appeared much closer and he saw a couple signs as they passed a small flag.

"Place with a red veil is only about a mile away now," the man told him.

And it was true. Minutes later the wagon was slowing. He wanted to offer the man some sort of payment, but for once he was broke. Either way, the man never asked or even hinted at payment. Why couldn't he have been more like that man during his 17 wasted years?

"Good luck, kid," he said as Draco hopped off.

As if to demonstrate his exhaustion, his body gave way as soon as his feet hit the ground. The man didn't notice the fall, and the near-death adrenaline helped Draco hoist himself up. He groaned, partially wishing he could just stay down there.

Don't think about it and it'll be over before you know it.

"Thank you," Draco said, glancing at the veil, then back to the wagon. The man gave him one final smile and drove off, still thinking Draco was a drug addict.

He took a deep breath and faced the veil. Slowly, Draco clutched it, knowing that once he stepped through, that was it. The last shred of doubt would leave him.
For the last time, he rested in the doubt—his mother's hand caressing his hair, his dad's hand on his shoulder, Astoria's smile, inside jokes with Harry and Ron, Hermione's side glare when he defeated her intellect, Luna and Neville's laughing ringing in his ears.

Draco threw the veil open and stepped in.

***

Ginny couldn't technically tell him what to do, but she was persuasive. Harry now shoved the clothes in his bag more hesitantly, doubts hissing in his ears. Ginny noticed.

"Harry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm just worried. I mean it hasn't been that long since—"

"I'm okay now." Harry looked right at her, but it still sounded like he was reassuring himself. "I'm good now. I can't stay locked up in the burrow forever..."

"It's not forever. But it's too soon. McGonagall can find another undercover Auror or whatever. Don't be reckless!"

"I'm fine!" Harry shouted without meaning to. Ginny only flinched with her eyes.

Unsure why he lost his temper so quickly, he took a deep breath. They were silent for a moment before Harry said, "I'm so sorry."

He was certain he was fine, but deep down Harry knew his girlfriend was right—he was being hasty. The truth was, he wanted to be fine. And going on this mission would make him fine, or at least prove he was.

The nightmares hadn't disappeared. It had barely been five months since the war had ended, but Harry had slowly begun to get better—panic attacks lessened, he started eating again, yesterday he played quidditch with Ron—but the nightmares remained. His last nervous breakdown was a month ago. Harry had woken at four in the morning, screaming in a cold sweat after dreaming about Cedric Tonks, Lupin, Dumbledore, Sirius...everyone.

It's all your fault, they'd chanted. It's all my fault, Harry thought for hours on end. And it was. They hadn't just died protecting the wizarding world, but him too. Voldemort had wanted him, not them.
It felt like ages until Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were able to calm him down, but that was a month ago. He was fine now.