He's watching her from the corner of his eye, and she catches his gaze almost before he has the chance to look away. "You're staring."
His lips turn upwards, a smirk falling lazily over his lips. "Obscene observation."
She shakes her head, and her head falls back down to the book in her lap. Tucking her feet underneath her. Esme continues to dive back into the book- hoping it will divert her attention from the man who can't seem to take his eyes away from her.
From the corner of her eye, she notices him clenching his left forearm in pain, and when she turns her head back up to look up at him, he masks it behind a facade behind his eyes.
"Alright?" she questions. Her eyes are now trailing over the entirety of Draco's figure to see the cause of the pain. He mumbles with a short nod before turning back away from her to look out at the sun setting just below the horizon. They sit in comfortable silence until his voice brings her out of a dazed image of reality from her novel. "We can be alone together". He paused, "Just me and you."
She thinks he's joking, but his face is grave, with no hidden amusement. "Aren't we already?" His eyebrows raise as he contemplates this, and she wonders why he's decided to bring up a strange topic. He was never one to talk about emotions, and when he did, it was rare. "And will this." he waved around at the estate, the garden, and the outside of his balcony. "Will all this be enough for you?"
Then her voice rose barely above a whisper. "You are enough for me, and that's all I need."
"And you will always be mine.".
Esme gives him a small smile. "If that's what you wish."
Draco ends up being the one to close the distance between the two. His lips are soft and welcoming, and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. After they pull away, his head drops tiredly on her chest. Her fingers trail into his hair, massaging his scalp and the smell of him is an essence of time.
She feels his unspoken words are being formatted into his actions. She is curious to know what he's hiding from her. But instead of prying, she remains silent, fingers continuing their adventure in his hair.
Moments later, his eyes are shut, and the sound of his breathing brings her peace. She looks down at him, her heart swelling in her chest. Without a doubt, he's come and feels the safest when with him. Only him.
-------
He apparates in his bedroom, and her head snaps up from the bed. Instead of calling for her, he calls for Nolly before meeting her stare. He's clutching his left forearm again, and his skin is deathly pale. His eyes are swollen, and a purplish bruise flourishes underneath his eyes. His lips are dry and chapped, and there's a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Draco walks to her. "What happened?'
"Long day at work, just got a bad spell on the arm." His eyes aren't meeting hers. Instead, he's looking past her across the room at the balcony. She gulps and nods her head as he presses a kiss on her forehead.
When he turns to walk away, she knows he's lying. And she begins to put the missing puzzle pieces together. Esme is asleep long before he retires to bed. She feels his figure shift next to her, pulling her waist into him.
Her body relaxes into his , and Esme breathes his scent in as he buries his face into her curls. She wants to say something, and her mouth opens to speak in the hope to discover answers. Instead, her eyes fall in exhaustion, and from the way his breathing is changed, he's already fallen asleep, and she loses the attempt to speak to him.
---
She's in the library, and he's sitting across from the table surrounded by Healer books. He's researching for a new assignment, and he doesn't tell her. She feels his distance even though he's sitting in front of her. Her leg is shaking under the table, and her fingers tremble slightly as she flips the page. He notices immediately, and his hand darts out, holding hers. "What's wrong?"
If it wasn't for his voice, she would have believed it was a dream. Finding Herself lost in the silver, she blinks quickly, breathing in deeply. "Nothing, just thinking."
She sends him a warm smile, and he begins to draw small circles against her palm. She doesn't pull her hand away, and she wants to scream at him. She wants him to tell her he's not okay, that he's in pain. She's not dumb. And as his eyes fall back onto his research, he knows she's lying. She wonders how this happened between them.
When did lies get the best of them? When did he start hiding things from her?
-----
He's in the lab, and she hears his cough halfway down the hallway. Her head falls back against the cool tile of the wall, and she sighs, counting to five. The sound of vials being pushed around caught her attention.
She can hear Nolly's tiny footsteps padding across the floor. The sound of her voice begins to ring in her ears. "Mister Malfoy, take this. It will help. It will be fixed."
His grunt of pain is what causes the tears to brim her eyes. She warns herself now is not the time to cry. She doesn't need to walk into him to see the scene playing out. When her eyes closed and she shutters, goosebumps rising on her skin, she can see him clenching his left forearm in agony. She sees him subtly hiding it when he's around her.
She can imagine the clench on his jaw from how hard he's biting down on his bottom teeth and the deathly pale look on his face. When her eyes reopen, she walks to her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.
It's only hours later he comes in, lying next to her. The warmth against the glacial iciness affiliating her body is now the remains of what's keeping her sane. His warmth is a pathway for hope, a gateway for him to heal. When he's asleep, she sits up, watching him. Tears fall down her cheeks, and she hides her sobs.
"I'm going to help you. You're going to be okay" Esme doesn't know how long she repeats it for, and perhaps it's until she finally believes it. By the time she slides back into bed, the doubt strangles her, and she's left where she first started.
---
Days pass, and the colour returns to his cheeks. His bags are no longer swollen, and the silver swirls in his eyes full of excitement, with hope. Now she feels like she can breathe because if he can finally see the end of being healthy, she allows her body to relax.
He's hovering over top of her, tucking strands away from her face. Silver meets chocolate brown, and it's safe. "You're everything to me.". She closes the distance raising her hips and her mouth to meet him. He slips inside of her, emitting a quiet moan from her and a grunt from him.
He's moving slowly- taking his time as his hand caresses at her body, her hips, her arms. As he rocks inside of her, she comes to the understanding that this is the first time he's being exceedingly slow.
This is the first time he's making love to her. The words are hanging in the air between them. The look in his eyes gives away how he feels as he falls apart after her.
Afterwards, he holds her close against him, murmuring promises into her hair. Esme falls into a deep slumber, feeling content after weeks.
----
When Esme wakes up, the side of the bed next to her is empty. The longing to wake up next to him rises in her stomach, and she feels an urge to talk to him about staying the morning and then leaving for work.
Esme wonders if Draco had an urgent call on a mission due to the abruptness of his leaving- usually, she would be awake by the time he pressed his relaxed lips to her forehead, but today it's an absent feeling. Looking over across the room, she sees the time is six in the evening. Her eyebrows raise in surprise at the extent of her slumber.
Wiping away the sleep from her eyes, she walks over the side of the bed, slipping on jeans and a t-shirt Draco must have left for her. Deciding on an activity to take up her time, Esme decides to explore the Manor again, knowing that Dolohov has wards across his side of the Manor, forbidding him from her side forever. Slipping outside the bedroom, the chillness of the air sweeps across her body, divulging into her insides, resting upon her skin, hoarding the calmness she felt moments ago.
Sighing quietly, she counts to five before beginning her travel down the narrow halfway. The walls are quiet, and her eyes gaze upon the paintings that no longer have the ability to speak and insult her after Draco's request.
From the corner of her eye, the light of a room catches her attention. Before she has the chance to think twice, her feet carry her to the extent as she approaches the door. It's slightly opening, and her hand pushes forward as she steps in.
Her eyes once again widened in surprise. Draco's potion room has entirely altered since the last time she found herself in it. The shelves are now a Slytherin green, and a smirk rises across her features from the resemblance of the man she likes and his former Hogwarts house.
Eyes skimming along the rows of potions and cauldrons, the scent brings her back to a simpler time. Her fingers itch to brew a potion, but the hope diminishes from the realization that a wand isn't accessible to her for the time being. Esme makes a mental reminder to ask Draco for one later. Her stomach churns from the thought, and she wonders what his reaction may turn out to be.
Looking back over at the wall, a book catches her attention. The blue spin shimmers, completely standing out against the remains of green in the room. Walking over to the shelf, her finger dances along the line of other books he's organized.
Her eyes lock on the title Poison, Healing, and Potions. Esme grabs it off the shelf walking back over to the bench, her attention entirely on the book now. Something about the title is drawing her in, and from the way the lettering sparkles in black, she can almost smell the dark magic emitting from the pages.
Esme breathes it in suddenly, and the scent brings back a memory of the cell. She holds her breath, fanning the book in the air in the hope the smell will drift away. Seconds later, there is no such luck, and she sighs in defeat while walking back to the benches.
Opening it up, she smiles in triumph because she is correct that the book contains matters of dark magic. The healing procedures and potions are advanced beyond her knowledge, and she finds her mind wandering over the idea of why Draco would need such a book.
Perhaps from the patients. It's a fine line between what she believes and what she wants to believe, but she finds herself torn deciding on the pain some may face during healing. When she reads up on the ingredients, she is surprised at recognizing names she can still remember.
Flipping to the next page, Esme becomes engrossed in the book. The time passes, and It's late at night. Her stomach growls from time to time, but she ignores it as she is captured by the advanced knowledge found in the book. It's a wisdom of all sorts, and though she believes her previous Hogwarts house was Hufflepuff, she's sure at this moment she is becoming a Ravenclaw.
The words on the page begin to suck inside her brain- a compartment of memories tucked away in the front side of her head. Without realizing she's memorizing word afterword, potion after potion, and use of dark magic along with the extent and power, it causes over the witch and wizard that uses it. Esme's palms grow sweaty, and her fingers tingle slightly.
She can feel the magic rushing in her veins; it's a feeling that returns from time to time- although, from this moment, she hopes it will come to stay.
Magic is born inside her very veins; the sensation of power, hope, and a new beginning rise above the defeats she's been facing. She finds herself eager to try wandless magic; a smile stretches across her features, a winning of many sorts. The door to the lab is shut and locked, and her stomach twists, flipping and filling with butterflies.
Her voice is barely a whisper, but she repeats the straightforward motion of the spell she remembers.
"Alohomora"
The door unlocks, and Esme gaps in surprises, laughing in excitement. She jumps from the seat as her fists raised in the air-punching upwards in excitement. The room doesn't have a clock, but she knows she's been in the room for quite some time and should probably return before Draco gets back and finds her missing.
Quietly slipping the book back on the shelf, she murmurs Nox as the lights of the room shut off and she's faced with complete darkness; Tiptoeing around down the hallway, the Manor is silent.
As she approaches the door to Draco's room, the sound of footsteps pacing back and forth across the floor catches her attention. Her head snaps up, and her stomach drops, her palms are now warm again, and she wipes away the sweat on the tops of her jeans.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She hears his voice from underneath the doorway and now grows nervous. There's a sudden secretive emotion undertoning his tone, and without question, she forces the door to open.
There Draco is pacing back and forth, grasping his forearm in pain. She sees him before he sees her, and she notices a vein bulging from his forehead, his wrists are covered in blood, and her eyes trail up, witnessing the formation starts from the top of his left forehead.
The blood is trickling outside of his black shirt, marking his pale skin with lines of dark red. The sound of her gasp makes his head snap towards her. His silver eyes widen in surprise before they turn opaque.
Her eyes are fixated only on his arm; she doesn't see Nolly standing beside him. His fingers are twitching, as his entire hand is shaking. She doesn't look away, she can't look away, and it feels like she's being drawn farther and farther away from him.
The air in the room shifts. The light that once showered over his being has been exchanged for back a soulless void of darkness. When her eyes meet him, they are full of fear.
"Esme, go to your room."
It's a demand, not a wish.
She ignores him, stepping forward. He takes a step back. "What happened?"
"Go; I'll come to see you after."
Her eyes narrow in anger, "Draco, your fucking arm is bleeding. Tell me what the fuck happened."
He looks surprised from the sharpness of her voice from a moment before his eyes simmer into a dark black and harden. When Esme blinks and stares up at him, she doesn't recognize the man she sees. "It's none of your business, mind your words.".
Instead of backing down, she feels the anger rush up inside of her. Crossing the room to reach Draco, Nolly blocks her path, standing in front of him. Esme tilts her head down towards the elf as her eyes soften slightly. "Miss, you should go back to your room. Master Draco is right."
From the corner of her eye, she sees Draco taking another step backwards, and her eyes drift back from the blood pooling on the floor beside him. The metallic scent rushes into her nose, and she bites her tongue, pushing back her urge to vomit.
Gulping slowly, she feels Nolly reaching for her, but her body is still frozen in place. The sleeve of Draco's shirt lifts slightly. His jaw clenches, and his entire body has hardened.
And then she sees the faint outline of a mark on his skin.
The black tattoo contracts completely against his milky skin, and although there's blood, the resemblance is not lost on her.
Suddenly all the air rushed out of her lungs. Her head is spinning, and she knows she's not mistaken for what she's seen. The words leave her lips before she can stop them "You're a death eater.".
All of time has frozen in place. Draco stops shaking as Nolly's hand drops from her leg. His hues are locked with hers, and now the warmth from the room has been sucked out from her body.
There's a cold frenzy pushing its way back into her body. She's trying to control her breathing, counting to ten over and over again. Her mind is racing at a speed where she can't slow down. Answers and questions are tumbling throughout her brain, one after the other.
Rather than being scared, her heart drops in her stomach. "You've been lying to me," she whispers. He takes a step forward as his other hand grips tightly on his forearm. He's in pain, and she doesn't care that he's a death eater.
She wants to help him; she wants to walk over and comfort him. She wants to heal him. It's the worst emotion in the world, and for an odd feeling, her mother's words are sweeping back inside her ears. Esme is reminding herself constantly her heart is too big; she's forgiving him way too fast. But it's the truth, and she's never been one to dwell in the miscommunications of particular circumstances.
From the moment she's been brought into the Manor to all the time he's stepped in and saved her, she knows the truth of the situation. He kept her safe than once. He's protected her from a world that's treated her terribly and tortured her for all she can't remember.
He's silent, and the silver lurking in his eyes is a given. His eyes always speak the truth, and there's no more hiding. The secrets are terminated, let out in the open.
Esme is hurt, and she wants to scream and shout. Although nothing comes out, and she's left with an inaudible silence creeping in towards her. Her eyes brim with tears, and he takes a step forward.
"Esme, I can explain; please just listen to me." He's begging, and the worst of it is she's hurt for all the wrong reasons. Deep down inside, she knew what he was.
It was apparent by the way he allowed Dolohv to stay; by the way, he could buy her out of the cell. By the power, he held in a room. It all made sense. Everything, actions, every word was a hidden truth, a meaning that lied upon light factoring into the dark.
Her entirety was brought upon light, the bright colour of shimmering white, and he always held the persona of black. But because of the grey flourishing between the two, it was hard to differentiate between the most crucial secret he held.
There were too many shades of grey they had created to exploit him. To see him for the person he truly was.
With every fibre in her being, she's come to the conclusion that he hasn't hurt her the way he should have. No, instead, she's hurt because he never told her the pain he was enduring. He never once told her the unbearable truth.
He stayed silent, and each time she asked if he was alright, he had lied. She could have helped him, but instead, he had kept her locked in the darkness. He left her to isolate on the other side of the wall bearing the two apart.
With a final glance at him, she whispers the words that hoard the room like an enemy. "You've betrayed me, Draco."
He's at a loss of words, mouth falling open in shock. Before he can decide what to say, Esme turns, walking out of the room, silently closing the door behind her.
The intensity of betrayal is never empty. It's from the one trusted the most- and the heart-shattering explosion inside defeats all the pain in the world. The betrayal of his trust leaves her heaving. Tears are streaming down her face, and she stalks towards her room.
Instead of lying in bed, she heads for the balcony. Her body is moving robotically, and it feels like the world is drowning out. There's no sound- her thoughts have subsided to an emptiness of quiet. This time the loss is haunting because there are no answers.
There are no ways for her to lie and say all will be alright. The truth is crushing her from the inside out. Esme wants to go back and scream at him. He should have told her; she would have understood. But instead, Draco hid it the entire time. He lied to her constantly, day after day pretending to be a saint he never ought to be, Not with that mark etched upon his skin. She sits down on the chair, the motion is practised, and there's no feeling in her body.
It feels as if she can't blink, and as the wind whirls around her, she stares out in the open. She doesn't hope because there is no hope.
Betrayal is the cruelest punishment. And now she's convinced this is the life she deserves.
Time passes, but she can't fall asleep. She doesn't know for how long. All that replays like a constant reminder is that he's lied. He's been lying the entire time. He's been hurt, and he kept it from her.
Him being a death eater was known. She knew the signs; she knew he was in pain. She never expected him to lie, promising he was better. She never expected him to shut her out and treat her like the fragile broken glass he swore he never would. She never expected him to hide something so severe from her. But then again, it sneaked upon her surface, hiding behind her back.
That's the thing about betrayal- she never expected it to be done by the person she trusted the most.
----
Days pass before she decides to go see him again. She opens the door to his bedroom, and he's lying in the centre of his bed. His eyes are dimmed despite the light hoarding in his room. The purplish bruises under his eyes and eyelids are dark- almost as if he hasn't ever slept.
The exhaustion from his features is not lost on her. His pale chest is covered in scars, and she remembers he told her the zigzag one was the sectumsempra spell that Harry Potter had used on him back in his sixth year. It takes another desk for her to realize the amount of weight he's lost. His body is slimming, the muscle weight falling. He looks unhealthy, and another pang of betrayal passes through her.
How long has he been hiding this from her underneath his clothes while using other spells?
Her steps are steady, and it feels like she's walking a plank from where she stands to the edge of his bed. After regaining moral consciousness for her thoughts to begin processing again- the answer floods through her mind. She wants to ask him now what her actual Hogwarts house is.
But from her acknowledgement to the pain in his arm and knowing he was a death eater far longer than when she found out, she feels the answer is brought with such simplicity. "You're poisoned," she states.
It's not a question, it's a statement, and it gives nothing away from his reaction.
"I always knew you were a Ravenclaw.".
And it's worse that she suspected it each time she saw him clenching his forearm in pain.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You told me I was a Hufflepuff, and you let me believe it."
He sighs, sitting up straighter. "I had to protect you."
"From what? I don't know what to believe anymore".
Draco remains silent, so she changes the topic.
"How long have you been poisoned for Mr Malfoy?" It's an authoritative questioning, almost as if she is the healer now.
His eyes harden in frustration. "Don't do that.". Esme crosses her arms, and he sighs again in defeat. "Since the day I've taught you how to play chess."
This pain has no explanation. It's a collection of frustration, anger, worry, and the worst deception.
"You've been lying to me this entire time. Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't your secret to know."
She turns her back on him, unable to look into the silver and finds truth, Because all that she once knew is now deceit, and she observes her rushing memories, gathering what must have been the truth and all that is a lie.
"Look at me, please." His voice is pleading, and tears sting her eyes. The first thing that passes her mind is something she's kept away. But now, the truth is set free, even from the inside.
I'm so tired of crying. When does the pain stop?
"Was everything between us a lie too?"
"I never thought this was going to happen between us. I didn't think it was important to tell you at the time; it seemed unreasonable. I had it handled. I'm a healer; I'll fix it in no time, don't worry."
Esme is quick to turn on her heels, glaring at him, "Don't worry?" and then she comes up with another conclusion. "You've just disillusioned your arm this entire time." Another statement.
"Clever girl."
She feels the anger boil with her, rising in her chest. Instead of looking at Draco, she stares straight ahead at the wall.
The silence is not uncomfortable but full of unspoken words he should have told her from when they began sleeping together. From the moment he cared.
He shifts to the side, reaching into the side pocket of his trousers. "Come here, please.". The request makes her feet shuffle forward to the side of the bed. His hair is hanging over his forehead, and now she sees the line of stress and the complete depletion arising over his masculine features.
When his fingers reopen, there lying in the centre of his palm is her ring. It feels as if her soul has left her body. Numb. She's numb. How much is a lie now? It seems everything is a lie, and she can't come to believe what is true and what is not.
She's been blinded by his tales.
"I need the truth."
"Figured." He muttered.
Draco stands from the bed, signalling for her to follow. He walks to the side of his bookshelf, and under his breath, she hears his whispering a long incantation.
Moments later, the bookshelf disappears and in place is a hidden room. His figure moves into it, and she follows hesitantly- holding her breath. When she walks in, the breath is knocked out of her. It's covered in vials of all sorts- the aroma of dark magic fills the air making her vision hazy.
Forbidden, unique, and extinct potion ingredients cover the room on shelves stacked up in rows. In the middle of the room is a working bench with a single chair. Off to the side, she recognizes a pensive.
The front is lined with exactly three thick vials, large in size. He stops in front of it, holding out a hand towards her as his other reaches for the vial labelled number one. Her eyes flicker to the vial and then back to his hand.
"What is this?"
He ignores her, but she gulps and reaches out for his hand. It wraps around her, and for the first time in days, she feels as if the air has passed through her lungs, sending oxygen inside of her. The warmth from his hand and the tenderness of his grip bring her back to reality.
His shoulders visibly relax, and it seems he's finally able to breathe again too. "The truth about everything from the start?" she demands.
His eyes flash with fear, and he nods. Her head shifts downwards into the pensive, and he pours the first vial inside. "Ready?" he asks.
Esme takes in a large breath of air. She's not ready, but then when has she ever been for anything else in her life. "I'm ready."
"Just know everything I did was for you. To keep you safe. I promised your mother." His voice rings in her ears before she's sucked away into the memories the pensive has yet to reveal.