A/N: I apologize in advance for how weird this chapter is. I honestly don't know what goes on in my brain, but this is what came out of it and...
Anyway here's the chapter.
P.S: I changed the tittle of the last chapter but the content is still the same.
Chilled Legacy XVI
"Draco Malfoy?" she blinked, trying to tear her eyes away from his. Draco let her momentarily so the conversation could continue.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke, the effects of the potion pouring out of his voice. "Yes, it's me professor."
His voice was his, but it might as well not have been. McGonagall unconsciously resisted the effects, her head looking elsewhere to find another teacher. "We must find your parent's," she said doubtfully.
His teacher was strong. She held her duties as headmistress and protector of the students to a higher standard than most. Even though she never particularly liked Draco, she'd been quick to come to his aid.
The Draco created from the potion decided it would take more than just talking.
"No," Draco said, meeting her gaze again. "We shouldn't."
What was he up to?
Astoria was still back at the snack table chatting with the trio. Draco wanted to go back and fight the effects, but as of yet, he didn't have a good enough reason. It was much easier to let the potion do its thing and wait for it to wear off. Trying to control his body and voice drained too much out of him, making the distinction between the new Draco and himself more blurred.
Maybe he was a string puppet, but so far he'd been a happy one. Blaise and Pansy couldn't recognize him, no one had sent a single glare his way, and everyone he encountered was left mesmerized by his company.
Still, Luna and Neville had been right—Astoria wasn't pleased with this new him. Draco settled for explaining it to her later. It was, after all, just for the ball.
He let himself be consumed by the potion once again, instantly drowning a wave of both peace and energy. When he saw the last traces of resistance leave her face, replaced by a startling, bubbly party smile, Draco spoke again. "These decorations turned out lovely. I can't imagine the trouble you must've went through to get this party together."
McGonagall looked around, as if seeing the shining lights for the first time. "It's good to give the students something to look forward to after what they've been through the last couple of month."
"Indeed! If only it weren't about to end so soon," he heard his voice say, watching her smile falter. "No band."
Draco's mind began to turn, putting the pieces of the plan together. He'd left Astoria when the party had begun to die. It as an involuntary movement which he still regretted. This was supposed to be their night, but the potion deemed the party's death more important.
Something snapped together in his brain and he saw Not-Draco's puzzle plan complete.
No!
The wave of peace washed away and Draco fought for control, twisting and turning, but only managing to make Not-Draco's fingers twitch in response.
The effects were strong, but not strong enough for his common sense to fully leave him. All he could imagine was himself—blond, blue-eyed, and mask-less—attempting to wrestle this dark-haired, purple-eyed, perfect party freak he created.
He had to win. There was no way that the potion was so strong as for him to lose his self-will. The real him would never—
"I could be your band."
If it were possible to suffocate while breathing, the real Draco was doing it. Every inch of him attempted to fight the potion, but Not-Draco had him pinned to the wall, snuffing out the air from his lungs. He had to keep the party alive. That was his mission and he would do anything to complete it.
***
The lights dimmed. The stage was just big enough to fit a single band and their instruments, but to Draco it looked enormous. It had been hours since he'd taken the potion and, like an hourglass, he could feel the grains just beginning to fall. Not-Draco still had a significant control over his every word and action, but just for a moment he was able to halt his footsteps and grab on to Potter who'd been following his every move since spotting him.
Draco was grabbing onto a slippery pole during the windstorm of the year, attempting to maintain his grip as the gusts of air pulled him towards his death. That's what it felt like anyway.
To anyone else it probably just appeared to be a dark stranger cutting the circulation from Harry's wrist.
Harry cried out, Not-Draco pulled harder and Draco released. His feet involuntarily moved forward again. Draco was allowed one final glance back before blacking out to full party-prince mode. Granger and Weasley stared into his eyes while Potter examined his injured wrist. For a moment, Draco knew they saw his fear, but that quickly vanished as they dissolved into his purple eyes and all concern left them.
Then Draco left too, not returning until he was facing the full crowd in center stage. He has no recollection of physically stepping on. Everything Not-Draco did was stored in his memories, but it looked more like scenes from a movie than anything he actually lived through. Every time he regained control, a snowstorm threatened to explode out of his fingers. He wanted to get down, but at what cost?
His face heated up under the mask—partially from embarrassment, and partially from anger. He'd tried too hard to not let his powers control him, only to submit to the will of this fake self.
Draco realized it was too late to back out now. All eyes were on him, none shining with recognition, but that didn't make the humiliation any less potent. The audience exchanged murmurs and he began to shrink back inside himself letting the impostor take over. With any luck, this would be over soon and he'd slip out without anyone ever knowing it was him under the mask.
The decision was possibly the only wise one he'd made today.
The air smelled of sweat (either his own or the dancers) mixed with magic mist beginning to pour out of somewhere near the back of the stage. He could hear the classical music begin to die down and McGonagall's voice echoing through the room as she announced the band's replacement, leaving out his name like Not-Draco had asked. At least this other self had some logic—if everyone knew it was Draco Malfoy on the stage they'd leave by the multitudes.
When he felt the temperature begin to change, he let Not-Draco take full control—that was, after all, why he'd taken the potion in the first place, right? To avoid freezing anything out of momentary anxiety. If he tried to regain control now that the potion was becoming slightly manageable, things could get much worse much faster.
Before he'd only slightly given in to the effects, but if he planned to get through his without lasting future trauma, Draco had to cave completely.
Suddenly the room came alive again. Why had he been so stupid? Everything was so much brighter and dream-like through his new eyes. A gust of reckless joy swept through him, placing the bright smile he'd lost back in its place.
All thoughts organized themselves in his brain, something the real Draco couldn't have pulled off.
The exact spells he needed to cast for the instruments to coincide with his mental beats—a mixture of wandless magic and legilimency—were simple charms he had lang mastered, but with everyone staring at him the real Draco wouldn't have been able to keep all the instruments playing at the same time for more than a couple minutes.
The crowd was amazed before melody had even left his lips yet.
They like me better than you.
Draco—hidden beneath several layers of magic—decided to ignore the thought as he continued to watch his other self work his body. He recognized the melody. Not-Draco had decided to start with wizarding songs a couple decades too old, speeding up the beat and giving it a more modern tone.
The elder wizards might've thought it an atrocity to their favorite classics, but the minute his voice echoed through the hall even the teachers were on their feet gaping.
"The phoenix cried fat tears of pearl
When the dragon snapped up his best girl,"
Watching himself sing made all the difference. He could feel the vibrations of the notes passing through his throat—it was definitely his. But the voice was alien to him. It was rustic, low, and drawling like his usual sound, but it had a natural magnetism. The same, yet completely different.
"And the Billywig forgot to twirl
When his sweetheart left him cold,
And the unicorn done lost his horn,
And the Hippogriff feels all forlorn,
'Cause their lady loves have upped and gawn, Or that's what I've been told."
It wasn't until he reached the last verses that Draco switched his focus from Not-Draco to the crowd. Their eyes were hazy, completely under the potion, and more importantly, unaware of whose voice this was.
There were a few exceptions—the trio, Luna and Neville, Astoria, McGonagall, and Slughorn—but they were too dumbed down to give him anything more than a slightly aware gaze.
Yes, love has set the beasts astir,
The dang'rous and the meek concur,
It's ruffled feathers, fleece, and fur,
'Cause love drives all of us wild.
The crowd cheered, but the concert wasn't over. Not-Draco sang a few more modern versions of old wizarding songs and covers of the new. He didn't even notice the potion had mostly worn off when he reached a few of Hermione's favorite muggle classics.
Draco stood on the stage a couple more minutes, watching the crowd ease down. The after party would begin soon outside the Great Hall and the majority slowly began to leave. His system was only left with a small sense of magical buzz, just enough to keep a smile on his face and his legs from wobbling as he found the exit.
The lights came on and he stepped down.
While most had scattered, Draco saw small groups coming towards him. The place was still crowded. With the potion gone, the party joy they carried shone with authenticity. He barely nodded in their direction before making his way towards Luna and Neville, the trio and Astoria following close behind.
Luna hugged him tightly. "It's you again!"
Draco hesitantly patted her back, baffled as to why that made her so happy. "The real one."
"You said you could sing—I mean it's not that I didn't believe it, but that was...wow."
Draco scoffed. "That wasn't me."
"Your eyes were my color for the final song," Luna noted, pulling away. He didn't show it, but it disappointed him. Other than Astoria, he couldn't remember the last time a friend hugged him, let alone a real one. It was both uncomfortable and warming.
His stomach was still doing backflips, and thinking about the concert wasn't helping the potion stay potent. Everything was rushing back the more the it wore off—the anger at his parents and the trio, anger that his plan had exploded in his face, anger that Harry had been able to make Astoria smile when he'd failed to even be himself around her, anger at all of it.
The worst part was the last.
"Draco," Neville said calmly, sensing his nerves. "I don't want you to panic, but we should get out quick. Your hair is changing back."
People began to take notice of him, a few running outside to spread the gossip of the mysterious singer's identity.
An icy blast tingled through the nerves of his fingers, but Draco took a deep breath and pulled a strand over his nose. The dark brown had gone from chestnut to dirty blond, and it was hastily fading lighter.
While the party had died down, about twenty students and a couple teachers were still chatting about and dancing, occasionally giving him curious looks.
Like him, most everyone had come out of the trance, and it wouldn't be long before McGonagall made her way over here and realized what had happened. He didn't think he'd get any extra points for performing advance legilimency and saving the dance. Was it too late to move to switch to Durmstrang?
Maybe the switch wouldn't be necessary after he explained that his only intention was to enjoy the ball with his girlfriend, and that he hadn't meant to create a party crazed monster that enchanted most of the school.
Technically it was McGonagall's fault for failing to provide a band, but he decided to leave that part out.
The more he thought about everything that happened in the last five hours, the more his fists clenched. How could he have been so stupid? Potions came with warning labels, but Draco had ignored the tiny strip of paper. At what point this year had he gotten so careless?
All he wanted to do was leave and pretend this entire experience had been an alcohol induced dream—and alcohol didn't sound so bad right now—but here was Astoria Greengrass and the golden idiots holding up his exit.
Now that his eyes were clear, he could finally take in her beauty. It was a shame he was too blinded by rage this time to take much notice. Maybe if she'd grabbed his hand, stroked his cheek, or did anything besides glare at him he would've calmed down enough to form thoughts and apologize.
"Malfoy," she said. "We need to talk."
Draco winced, feeling like someone had twisted the knife the trio shoved in his back. He wasn't the only one taken aback by 'Malfoy'.
She had to have about a million and one reasons to be upset, all dating back to his secrecy and abandonment, but Draco knew it was too late for him to make all those wrongs right, not to mention he didn't want to talk. The only way that could make anything okay with her was for him to tell her and the trio the truth.
Astoria and the world didn't need another reason to view him as a monster, and it was better if he stuck to his original plan of getting rid of the curse himself. Even if silence had turned into his loudest scream that only a few heard, he had to continue it. Draco would bite his tongue until it bled.
"Not now."
Her lips pursed. "We can talk outside," she said again, "but I'm done waiting."
"I'm not sure what just happened," Harry said, rubbing at his eyes. "But we all know that's not all your hiding. We don't want to fight, Draco. We're here to help you out of this—whatever it is you've gotten yourself into."
"I don't want your stupid help, move aside."
"You're being ridiculous!" Astoria hissed. "I can look past you completely ignoring me for a week and showing up like some possessed zombie and ruining the ball, but are you seriously stupid enough to make me continue on like this? I was worried sick! You disappeared into thin air with half the adults looking for you.
"You manipulated me, not to mention the entire school and you won't even talk to me about it?"
While all this was said in growling whisper, it echoed loudly around the group. Hermione place a hand on Astoria's shoulder, warning her to change her tone before Draco bolted.
Luna did the same for Draco and he took a breath. There was a silence before he final said, "I'm waiting."
"What?"
"You're breaking up with me. Just say it already."
The group drew in their breaths. Astoria opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again after choking on her words. "Is that what you want?"
Draco removed the mask, feeling his eyes sting, but they remained dry. "It's what you want and..."
The anger left him, but at first he hadn't understood why. In a matter of seconds his mind had shut off as the last remaining effects of the potion subsided.
Draco couldn't feel anger, but could feel the pain in his chest as his heart began to race.
Had all eyes really just been on him moments ago? Had he really just broken up with Astoria? Where his parents really coming this way? He tried to inhale oxygen, but that didn't help the numbness in his fingers either. Everything and nothing was working in his mind, making him shiver through his hands sweating hands.
"Dray? Dray what's wrong?"
Her voice had softened significantly, but it was too late. Draco felt the area around them become colder, as did Harry. Potter looked around, suspecting his fear was the presence of the ruler, and Draco began to walk away.
Astoria tugged at his robe.
"Don't touch me!"
Draco meant it to sound like a warning, but it echoed back like a threat. He saw the hurt in her eyes just before her anger returned. Maybe she had planned to breakup with him, but not like this. Not without knowing why her Draco had pushed her away. Astoria wasn't going to take this treatment. She grabbed his arm forcefully, determined to talk it out.
Draco pulled away and she'd ripped the glove off instead.
Draco stopped walking.
He turned to face her.
Around him the world has slowed as he stared down at his naked hand. The door appeared miles away and his panic attack a large dragon coiling around him.
Suddenly he was hyperaware of all the people still dancing and laughing around him. Each individual a mistake waiting to happen. One wrong move. One clumsy dancer and it was all over. Most eyes were on him, his parents and McGonagall coming closer. Was the room getting colder or was that the blood moving painfully slower through his veins?
"That's all you have to say?" Astoria said rather loudly.
The last distracted few turned their heads his way, including Pansy and Blaise. They spotted his naked hand and Astoria's firm grip on the piece of cloth. Their eyes went wide.
"Astoria, please calm down," Luna said, but Astoria didn't seem to hear.
"Forget it? That's it?"
"Astoria," he said as softly as he could manage. A hint of urgency tainted his voice. Astoria waited for him to continue, most likely expecting a reasonable apology or some sign of remorse from their breakup. "Give me the glove."
Sensing she was about to chew him out, Draco began to walk away again.
"Did I do something wrong?" Astoria called desperately.
The hall went silent for a moment, the echo of his footsteps almost as loud as his heart, and then the whispers multiplied. The trio called his name too. The door felt miles away and Draco was beginning to drown in attention.
"Shut up."
"No! Why won't you talk to me?"
Draco saw a single snowflake drift by him, and a couple more had begun to float around nearby students. They whacked at them, looking for its source.
"Astoria, stop it!" Neville hissed.
The trio continued to call after him and Astoria wasn't about to back down. The panic attack clouded his vision. Snow was fell faster. He had to act quick. He had to act now.
"Why will you only talk to the ghost? What are you so afraid of?!"
"SHUT UP!"
***
He knew something else was wrong. Luna and Neville had that same look on their face from Hogsmead, but Harry Potter never expected this.
It had happened so quickly, Harry wasn't sure any of it was actually true. With a single move of his hand Draco had created a meter long wall of ice spikes, only half his body visible over the barrier.
The students nearest to him yelped and fell backwards.
Harry choked on air as a million thoughts swam through his mind, none which would make sense unless his friends confirmed it.
He looked at Ron and Hermione, both their faces just as astounded as his. Their eyes remained wide as realization dawned on them.
Draco Malfoy.
His former bully.
His former friend.
They boy he'd known—thought he'd known—most of his life was the ruler of Arendelle.
That moment lasted an eternity. Harry saw Draco's horrified face as his eyes danced all around the Great Hall, taking in the silent and paralyzed crowd he'd caused.
It had worked. Astoria had shut up. Everyone had.
Astoria was the first to break the silence, careful to use his first name, "Draco."
He looked at her, at Luna and Neville, and finally the trio. He shook his head slowly, trying to wake himself from a dream.
Finally, he ran.
Harry was first in the lead after him.
"Draco!" he called down the hall.
Not many followed behind him—most were still too stunned to move—but Harry had learned how to fight the stillness of danger long ago.
A/N: If you haven't caught it yet, the song is from Fantastic Beasts. For the record, I've never stressed so hard when editing (not since the last chapter of Wizards Go Muggle). Gotta love climax chapters haha. I'll try to update soon and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
P.S: JOEY UPDATE THE MALFOY STORY. YOU LEFT ME HANGING BRUH.