Contingent | D.M. + H.G.

Chapter 1: In Which He Plots

Narcissa was a good actress alright. In Draco's absence - not to mention the more pressing reason of the Death Eaters' ever-intrusive presence - she'd had no choice but to master the art. She'd grown a fond appreciation for the skill as time went on. There was a sharp twinge echoing through her chest where her heart rested as she realized that her own son couldn't see through her anymore.

Though, she supposed, that was the point. He always tried so hard to protect her. Now, it was her turn to protect him.

-

Draco found himself back on the Hogwarts Express all too soon. He'd had weeks to plot and scheme and plan but yet here he was, empty handed. He shook the thought away. Control, he needed control. His mind reeled desperately.

He saw the constellations dance on his eyelids and he reached out to grasp at them for one futile moment before a tall wizard came up from behind and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Alright Malfoy?" Blaise Zabini said, raising an eyebrow as the pale blonde jumped slightly in his seat. It wasn't like Malfoy to be caught off guard, much less in public.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Zabini and gave a curt nod. No need to give him more reason to question his sanity, or rather what was left of it. The fact that he'd skipped the usual accompaniment with a scathing insult was reason enough for Blaise to be more curious than he should be.

He let himself settle into his seat and pretend to be invested in making noncommittal small talk with the other sixth year Slytherins he sat with. He stilled for a moment as he came to the realization, with a nasty pang in his gut, that he couldn't relate with most of the things they said anymore. It's not like anyone else had the fucking Dark Lord shacking up in their spare wing.

Draco thought, with a cruel twist of fate, that he finally got his wish - albeit a few years late. He finally had something that no one else did. Unironically, he also realized that this was the most alone he'd ever felt. He eventually gave up his pretense, staring out his window at the countryside as it whizzed by, a blur of color. He let his eyes unfocus and he permitted himself to try to enjoy the ride for once.

The whole time he gnawed at his cheek, trying his best to keep the empty, crushing loneliness at bay.

-

Malfoy's eyes slowly raked over her from across the Great Hall. The wide, lengthy tables that had always separated them suddenly seemed too short a distance. Draco watched as she laughed at something the Weasel said, her eyes glittering as her head tilted back to let the pretty sound evaporate into the space above her head. Weasley looked positively smug.

He, for one, simply couldn't imagine that the pathetic Ginger had said something that was even mildly worthy of coaxing that sound from her, or anyone for that matter. Most things that could prompt people to laugh like that were at the expense of Weasley himself, not to mention how hilarious his reactions could be. He rolled his eyes, dropping the intense gaze that was accidentally lingering on her.

He felt a hand stroke up and down his left arm once as he brought his eyes back to the plate in front of him. He bit back a growl before tearing it away from Daphne Greengrass's curious fingers - it was still more sensitive than he wanted to admit. Daphne just didn't know when to stop. He really thought she'd have taken the hint by now, but apparently the thing they say about blondes must be true if she's being this daft.

Blaise cleared his throat, blessedly interrupting her unwelcome at flirting before it went any further, his green eyes inexplicably hard when they met Draco's. "Hey Malfoy, wanna give Dumbledore the slip? I bet we could get into Hogsmeade no problem and have ourselves a hell of a night." Blaise waggled his eyebrows as he made the offer, his eyes warming at the prospect of getting into some trouble.