diversus: different, diverse, distinct
———
DRACO never dreamt.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd fallen asleep and dreamed—his sleep was usually short and dreamless.
But this time—this time, he dreamt of Elara.
She was wrapped up in his arms, her head of curly hair tucked under his chin. They were standing on the edge of a cliff and there was wind whipping at their clothes, waves of midnight blue roaring and breaking on the rocks far below.
Instinctively, Draco tightened his arms around her, trying to pull her away from the edge. She didn't budge but instead, curled her hands into the back of his shirt, preventing them both from moving.
"Don't leave." Her voice was muffled and he felt panic claw up his throat at how close she was to the edge, her back facing the nothingness that led to the violent sea below. The sound of the waves crashing was almost enough to drown out her voice. "Don't leave me here."
"I won't." Draco's hands slid up her back, one entangling in her hair, the other belting around her shoulders to hold her to him. His heart was pounding, his head spinning from their proximity to the edge. "Can we—Can we move away from the edge?"
She shook her head against his neck. "No. No. I can't." She sounded like she was crying—but he couldn't feel her tears on his neck.
His chest ached at the break in her voice. "Please—it's not safe—"
"No!" It was a scream much alike to the one she had made when he'd cast a Warming Charm on her in the snow and she started to struggle. He held onto her tighter, the knot in his throat growing at how close she was to the drop. "No! I'm not leaving—"
A stab of panic zipped through him as he almost lost his grip on her body as she struggled in his arms. He caught a glimpse of her face, found her eyes wide and terrified and there was something leaking out of the corners of them but they weren't tears—
"Okay. Alright. I'm sorr—Okay. We're not leaving." He bundled her up again, burying his face in her hair and breathing in lavender. She was so thin in his arms and she was shaking as the wind howled around them, the ground under their feet feeling unsteady. She went limp in his arms again and he blew out a shaky breath, pressing his lips to her temple.
Her skin was freezing cold and he desperately tried to give her warmth, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and back. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck.
"I love you."
His heart shuddered to a stop and he squeezed his eyes shut, his lips grazing the top of her hair as the words left her lips. He hadn't heard them in so long—had never thought he would, ever again. Not from her.
"You wouldn't leave me," she mumbled against his skin and it was hard to hear her over the wind and the waves. "You wouldn't. Right?"
"Never," he said, fiercely, without even thinking. "Never. You're mine."
It felt good to say—felt even better to hold her again, even if she was distraught. She fit so nicely against him, a puzzle piece he'd been missing for so long now.
"You love me?" She pulled back now and terror reared its ugly head in his chest. Her face was streaked with blood—running in rivulets down her cheeks, stemming from her eyes.
She wasn't crying tears. She was crying blood.
"Elara—" He could hear the panic in his voice as he grasped her face, pulling her in and dragging his thumbs across her cheekbones. His hands were suddenly stained with red and nausea swelled in him like a wave. "Elara, you're—"
"Do you?" Her hair was flying all over the place, frizzy and wild, and she kept gazing up at him, pitiful and pleading and broken. "Draco. Do you love me?"
"Yes." It pushed past his lips on its own accord, heavy and real. "Yes—fuck—yes, Elara."
"Then you won't leave me?" she asked, hands clutching onto the front of his cloak. "Even if I'm tainted and—and damaged?"
"I am too," he breathed, dropping his head. Crimson red trailed down her face, collecting against his thumbs on her cheekbones. "I'm never leaving you."
She glanced back—over the edge of the cliff that he'd almost forgotten about. "Never?"
His heart turned cold. "Elara. No." He was trying to tug her away in the next moment, his emotions a mangled mess. Terror, panic, nausea—they all twisted into a singular knot in the middle of his chest and spread outward, reaching its greedy roots into every fibre of his being. "Get away from the edge, Elara."
"You don't understand." She was slipping out of his grip and he was panicking now, reaching for her, but somehow his hands never got enough of a hold on her frail body. "Draco, this is how it has to be."
"No!" he screamed, his eyes stinging, as she took a step back and he lunged for her, getting a grip on her hand but he could feel her sliding away. "Elara, stop! Please—please—"
Lightning slashed through the sky, blackened clouds gathering above them, stretching out as far as the eye could see. The waves rolled in response, rising and lashing out at the craggy rocks, as if impatient for their next victim.
"Come with me," she whispered and he didn't know how he heard it over the cacophony of sounds around them. "It's the only way. Draco—listen to me. It's the only way."
"No." He couldn't let her die—not again. Once more, he reached for her out of pure desperation, his stomach twisted tight. "No. Elara, come back—"
"Come with me." Her face was still stained with blood, smudged where he'd pressed his hands against her face. "It's going to be alright."
"No," he gasped out, clutching onto her hand like it was his lifeline. "No. Stay with me. I'll fix everything, I promi—"
"You can't." Elara gave him a sad smile
and his heart broke. "Just come with me."
"I love you." His throat was raw and she was an inch from the edge, her hand slipping away from his grasp even as he struggled to hold onto it. "I love you—I'm so sorry—"
"If you do," she said and lightning illuminated her face in the darkness, "come with me."
"I can't—we'll die—please—" When had he started crying? He could feel tears tracing down his face and his shoulders were heaving, his sternum uncomfortably tight with dread. "Elara, please."
Whatever he was going to say next lodged in his throat like a barrier as the next flash of lightning lit up her face, this time contorted in rage and fury. Like it had been when he'd called her tainted at the safehouse.
"You're exactly like your father."
It was a snarl and said exactly with the same hatred and spite she had spat it with when she'd said it to him that night on the Astronomy Tower.
He felt like she had sunk claws into his throat.
And then, she spread her arms out wide and fell.
A feral scream ripped from his throat and he lunged forward, reaching out for her but his hands grasped empty air. The momentum carried him onto the ground on all fours and he watched over the edge as she fell, her eyes shut. As if she were sleeping.
Just before her body hit the rocks, darkness enveloped him and he was yanked out of the dream.
|
"What do you think? Green or silver?"
"Green," Astoria nodded, dragging her hand through the table cloth Narcissa had splayed out over the back of a sofa. "And we can use the matching plates."
Narcissa hummed, thoughtfully, her eyes scanning over both the tablecloths—one silver and one dark green. "Draco?"
Draco slumped down in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, picking at a thread that had come loose on the arm of his shirt. "Both."
His mother glanced over at him, briefly. "Don't be daft. We can't have two tablecloths."
"I don't see why not," he said, bored. "You're Narcissa Malfoy. I've made enough of a name for the both of us—you can do whatever you like."
He didn't know why he was so annoyed. Maybe because ever since his dream a few days ago, he hadn't been able to sleep for more than half an hour.
Astoria cleared her throat, brushing a strand of her wavy brown hair away from her face. "I mean, we could transfigure them to incorporate both colours—"
"Watch your tone, Draco." Narcissa sounded unamused at his curt statement. "You may be able to walk around as the Dark Lord's little pet outside but in this house, you are nothing more than my son."
Draco was unbothered at her tense tone although Astoria's hands faltered from where they were stroking the tablecloth.
"Thanks ever so much for reminding me." He couldn't control his foul mood and continued to pick at the thread on his shirt. "I would've forgotten. It's not like everything I do in this war is for you."
Astoria flinched but didn't look at him, bowing her head instead and waiting for Narcissa's reply.
"I am eternally grateful." Her voice was as sharp as his as she straightened to face him. She looked haggard and worn out—Draco felt a stab of guilt.
Abruptly, he stood and moved towards the door of the sitting room. "Enjoy planning the rest of your little...dinner party."
Narcissa didn't say anything but Astoria reached out as he passed and he forced himself to let her take his hand.
"You're going to be there, right?" she asked, gently. "We can't host Death Eaters without you—"
"I'll be there," he said, sharply, pulling out of her grip. "But don't wait for me."
As soon as he'd made it out of the sitting room, down the hallway and then out the front door, he let himself breathe a little easier, glancing down at the ring on his finger.
It ached and he winced, shaking out his hand, briefly as he strode across the gravel, heading for the iron-wrought gates. It was the newest addition to his collection on his hand—an ugly thing, gold band and a diamond black gem.
His mind trailed back to his dream—the way Elara had looked, crying blood, begging him to come with her, over the cliff and into the depths below. His skin crawled with the memory and then he had crossed the Anti-Apparition wards and there was a sharp tug in his stomach.
In five jumps, he'd made it to the forest, taking a moment to steady himself on a tree as his head swam. The past week, he'd been exhausted and worn out, his powers alarmingly weak. It explained why he'd been unable to get here in the three jumps like he usually did.
The safehouse was eerily quiet but he could hear sounds of duels erupting from behind it and rounded the side of the house to find them all spread out over the large expanse of grass behind it, spells flashing blue and red through the air.
He spotted Weasley dueling with Demetrius and Wood with Granger before his eyes fell on Elara, standing off to the side, watching her friends go back and forth. Mariko was standing by her side, Carter on the other and Draco gritted his teeth.
When he'd walked in on them in the kitchen, Carter's hand on her cheek, whispering how he found her perfect, Draco had nearly crossed the space and grabbed him, wanting to smash his head against the cabinets behind until they were stained with his blood.
But Potter had dug an elbow into his ribs and Draco had stiffened, keeping his feet planted to the wood floor. He'd debated catching Carter separately and leaving him with a black eye, if not a shattered jaw—
Elara's eyes met his across the playing field and he swallowed hard. Her skin was pristine, no blood streaking down them like in his dream, and she had that blank look on her face, nothing like the rage that had taken over her features right before she fell.
"Malfoy." Granger was suddenly in front of him, breathing hard from her duel with Wood. "Any news from Harry?"
Draco blinked and dragged his eyes away from Elara to look down at the Gryffindor witch standing in front of him. "Potter said they're almost here."
Granger nodded, slowly, and his eyes flicked back over her shoulder to Elara. She was still watching him although Carter was saying something to her, leaning in closer.
"Tell Jacobs to meet me in the study in twenty minutes," Draco said, his eyes still fixed on the dark-haired witch who had turned his entire world onto its head. She raised an eyebrow at his gaze.
The house was uncomfortably warm and Draco unfastened his cloak, draping it over his arm as he crossed the sitting room, barely glancing at the figure on the sofa. He had to teach Elara how to strengthen the barriers in her mind—to keep unwanted thoughts out and—
"I don't see why you're wasting your time with her."
The sultry voice made him freeze and toss a look back over his shoulder at the sofa. There was a girl lounging on it, short blond hair cut close to her chin, long legs spread across it.
He should keep moving. She looked like she had something up her sleeve—but he stopped and turned fully to face her. "Who?"
The girl rolled her eyes—what was her name again? Candice? Cara?—and sat up. "The—The freak."
Draco raised an eyebrow and she wet her lips, swinging her legs off the sofa.
"You know," she sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "Elara. She is a freak. She can't even cast an Expelliarmus."
"Can you?" he replied, lazily, as she stood. She was tall—had to be around five eight—and she sauntered towards him, looking offended.
"I came first in my year," she responded. Her hair was a similar shade to his but not as pale and it brushed her chin with every step she took. "But of course, that was before your time."
Again, Draco raised an eyebrow, his tongue poking into the inside of his cheek as she came to a stop in front of him—much too close. She didn't look much older to him.
"I graduated three years before you would have," she told him, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder and his eyes followed the movement. "You never heard my name? Carolyn Jameson."
Carolyn. He remembered now. She'd been one of the first relocated to this safehouse with Granger. "I can't say I ever have."
She sniffed. Her eyes were a startling blue, bright and stark, as she surveyed him. "Elara is a lost cause. She may have been one of the smartest people in the room before but now—Merlin, she can barely brew a potion without mixing up the ingredients or getting the instructions wrong. I don't see why you choose to spend your energy helping her when you could be helping—"
"I'm flattered, Carolyn." Elara stepped in through the door, rubbing her hands together to warm them. She gave them both a onceover, something close to disdain on her face. "Truly."
Carolyn only rolled her eyes and Draco bit back a smile as Elara coasted by them, tossing her coat onto the back of one of the armchairs, barely casting him a look. "Coming, Malfoy?"
Carolyn's face formed a sneer but Draco only bowed his head at her and turned to follow his witch out into the hallway.
"I must admit, out of everyone in this house, I didn't think you'd be interested in Carolyn," Elara said, coolly, as she led him down the hall towards the study.
He shrugged, deciding to humour himself. "Why not? She's an attractive woman."
He didn't miss the way her nails dug into her palms. The corner of his lips quirked up as she pushed open the door to the study and he followed her in, shutting it behind them.
The silence rested heavily in the air as she turned to face him. Her hair was loose again, hanging around her shoulders, her cheeks dotted pink from the cold outside.
"Well?" she prodded, sounding irritated, and he brought himself out of his stupor, placing his cloak over the back of the armchair.
"Clear your mind," he ordered, wincing as the ring on his finger throbbed. He clenched his hand into a fist, looking down at it and hissing through his teeth.
"Punch someone too hard?" she mocked with a smirk, following his eyes. He flexed his knuckles and then shoved his hand into his pocket.
"I said clear your mind."
Elara rolled her eyes. "Why don't you come over here and make me?"
It was a taunt—meant to entice him closer. He knew it and went for it anyway.
Her eyes dragged down the length of him, from his head to his boots, and he saw her throat bob as she swallowed.
"You okay there?" he almost sneered, smirking at her. "You don't look too good."
Immediately, her shoulders straightened, defiance bleeding back into her eyes. "There's something different about you."
His steps faltered on the carpet underneath him. "Keep a close eye on me, do you? I'm flattered."
She narrowed her eyes at him, scanning him again and he fought the urge to do the same to her. He just wanted to make sure she was alright after his dream, that she wasn't really hurt.
"What is it?" She suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between her and where he'd stopped. She surveyed him like a hawk as she took in his face, dark eyes flicking over his features, resting a little longer on the scar and fading bruise on his cheekbone as well as the small one above his lip. "Why do you feel different?"
Draco blinked, taken aback, and snapped his hand back when she reached for it. "Don't fucking—"
"Don't be such a baby," she huffed in response, following his movement and grabbing his palm. As soon as she did, a cut gasp escaped her lips and the skin on skin contact was enough to make Draco shiver, something dark and deep pulsing within him. "Malfoy, there's something wrong—"
Her sentence was drowned out as a sudden commotion at the front of the house erupted into noise. There was a bang and the telltale sound of spells being shot back and forth, followed by shouts. Draco's blood curdled.
Elara's eyes widened as she looked up at him for a split second longer and then she was pushing past him, heading straight for the door.
No.
He caught her around the waist, yanking her back and she gasped again, her hands coming down hard on his arms around her. "Malfoy, let me go!"
"You're not going out there," he hissed in her ear, pulling her so her back collided with his chest. She was pressing into every inch of him almost and he felt his veins sing despite the circumstances. "You can't even cast a—"
There was another loud bang and another shout sounded, words indistinguishable. Whoever it was was furious.
Elara struggled in his grip but Draco had his wand out and pressed it into the skin under her jaw. "They could be Death Eaters," he said quietly, lips against her ear. "Stay here. Or I'll tie you up and make you."
Her breathing picked up, her shoulders heaving against his chest and he could tell she was doing calculations in her head—whether it was really smart to barge out there with virtually no magic. He nearly smirked. Ravenclaw, through and through.
"Where is she?"
His head snapped up from where it had been curving into the side of her head as footsteps thundered down the hallway and Draco immediately wrenched away from her.
He knew that voice. He'd heard it in the halls of Hogwarts, accompanied by laughter or a firecracker going off, coupled with one exactly like it.
"Where is she?" he roared and Draco could tell he was coming closer.
"—wait, please—" Granger. Always trying to stop someone from doing something stupid.
Draco was in front of Elara before he'd even realised he'd moved. His wand was out and pointed at the door. Elara was silent behind him but he could hear her breathing. She didn't put any distance between them.
The door slammed open with a hex to it, splintering the wood and sending pieces of it rocketing into the walls and skittering across the floor.
Draco cast an effortless Protego around the both of them and the splinters bounced off the shimmering blue shield.
He looked the same. All lanky limbs, freckles and that insulting shade of red. But unlike how Draco had always remembered him—smiling, laughing, cheeky, causing trouble all over the school with his partner in crime—George Weasley was livid, crimson in the face and panting, his face contorted in such a disturbing picture of fury, Elara gasped behind Draco.
It all happened so fast Draco barely had time to the process it. One second, George was standing in the doorway, breathing hard, staring at Elara and Draco and the next, the stupid Ravenclaw was moving around him and running straight for George, crying his name.
"Expulso."
The curse hit her straight in the chest. A scream ripped from her throat as Elara was thrown back, ramming into the wall behind the desk with such force Draco could hear her ribs crack. A tortured groan was pulled from her throat as she slid to the floor, lying lifeless and limp.
His vision flashed red, the familiar knot of rage imploding in his chest.
No one got to lay hands on her without consequence. For every hair out of place on her head, Draco would exact punishment with his fists.
He did the only thing he knew how to do.
He hurt people.
———
terrible chapter. i think i'll come back and edit this later
sooo bad news! we won't be getting updates for this book for around a week :( im so sorry but it really can't be helped. i promise i will try my best to get one to you guys as soon as humanely possible tho. thank u for being patient <3
also, vote! or lily (from core whores, not potter) will run u over with a truck <3
kisses, forever n always,
nyx