CHAPTER TWENTY:
should have known better — sufjan stevens
( 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟏𝟓 )
Meredith dreamed of terrible things that night. Terrible, terrible things.
It started out as quiet. Almost serene. Then soft music begins to play. But the music reaches a crescendo and it morphs grotesquely into screaming and cries. First its merely hers, ear-splitting but bearable. Then others join the symphony. Ginny's, Luna's, Ron's, Hermione's, Neville's, Harry's. It then becomes unbearable. The wails of the desolate and hopeless.
Sometimes, the screaming stopped for a moment and she dreamt of other things. Other awful things.
She dreamt of ghosts. Not like Nearly Headless Nick and the Grey Lady ( whom she had befriended over the year ), grey and floating through the walls. She dreamt of broken whispers, of a white sheer veil fluttering in the phantom wind, of passing memories fading in and out from her subconscious. Voices and faces flitted across the darkness in her mind, some joyful, some despondent, some...empty. Her mother was sometimes there; her soft grin, her smiling eyes. Meredith wished that her mother was by her side now, stroking her hair and telling her that everything was about to be alright even though it wasn't. "Crucio!"
She dreamt of flashing lights. The beautiful dancing lights lining in the long rectangular room in the Department of Mysteries. Like the sun reflecting off the Great Lake on a warm Sunday afternoon. Or the night sky stretching across the expansive Scottish countryside surrounding Hogwarts. Greatly beautiful things. Then there where the shorter darker flashes. Bursting from the tips of wands. Cutting through the still air. Flashes of green and red ricocheting across the room. Pain. Horror. Screaming. Silence. "Crucio!"
She dreamt of death. Death was not kind; it was not welcoming; it was not embracing. Death was not kind. It snatched people in the middle of the night, unaware and unassuming. It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish. The hooded vale of death hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. A mist, with silent steps. Creeping up behind those not ready to leave the living. Meredith always wondered where she'd go after death. The skeleton with a scythe. Heaven or Hell. Reincarnation. Or maybe she'd join one of the Ghosts and stalk the hallways of Hogwarts forevermore. "Crucio!"
She dreamt of platinum hair and steel eyes. Hair woven from silver strands spun with the starlight above. Eyes of smokey grey, stony and dead. A mask, carved in the harshest of black. Billowing robes that blended into the night sky. A cold unfeeling voice echoed through her head, "Now, who may you be?", blasting from all corners, seeping into her every thought. "Crucio!"
But when that ended, the screaming would begin again. A fresh new horror every time. Ripping open wounds before they healed. Leaving permanent scars upon her soul.
Meredith awoke the as the sun broke through the hills, head thrumming and skin prickling, to the sight of a beaten down but smiling Harry Potter. She couldn't help but smile back despite the events of the night before. Despite the horrors that lingered in her mind. Because they were safe now. Safe from the Death Eaters. Safe from the fighting. Safe from the darkness. Safe from Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Hey." She managed to croak out, reaching up to touch her throat which ached slightly, "We won, did we? Beat them up real good?"
He smiled gently, the golden morning light dancing on the tips of his dark hair, "Yeah. The Order came just in time and we managed to stop the Death Eaters but..." He trailed off, expression suddenly darkening and smile fading from his lips. Meredith knew that look; They'd lost someone that night. Someone whom Harry had loved dearly. Loved. She wouldn't pry into it yet, as she knew that it took time for a person to process another's death, the simultaneous pain and numbness that followed, but she squeezed his hand comfortingly, sending across the clear message: "I'm here for you."
"Oh, Meredith! You're awake!" Another voice joined in as Meredith propped herself up a pillow, preparing for more oncoming visitors. Neville, dressed in a fresh set of clothes and arm put in a bandage, hurried over. The swelling in his nose had decreased noticeably and his voice was back to normal.
"You were out cold for so long from the...we almost thought that we..." He trailed off, staring uncertainly at her. The three Cruciatus curses she had endured. Meredith winced, massaging her ribs although there was no physical remainder of the horror inflicted on her the night before. But that pain she felt, the immense and excruciating sense of hopelessness that consumed her for what felt like hours upon hours...would haunt her for the years to come. Like it did in her restless sleep. But she smiled brightly anyways, plastering on a fake grin, causing his face to light up in response, "I'm alright, Neville."
He looked better than ever, a few splotches of red and purple battering his face, but very much unharmed on the outside. She admired him greatly at that very moment. He had gone through the same torture as she did. And yet here he stood, well and proud, while Meredith couldn't find it in herself to be on her own two feet and had to be put on bed rest. Weak, she scolded herself bitterly. Weak and pathetic, Meredith Darling.
"We should leave you to rest," Harry noted as he stood up from his stool, taking a glance at Hermione and Ron who were still out cold in the beds beside her. She nodded, feeling another spell of giddiness coming on; must be whatever Pomfrey dosed her with earlier while she was unconscious. She lay back down, her head thrumming loudly now, and closed her eyes, drifting off into a fitful sleep as the two continued talking in the background. Once again dreaming of red light, darkness, the dias, Malfoys, and death.
Hours had passed since then. Hermione and Ron thankfully recovered and were Meredith's companions as the sun faded behind the Quidditch pitch for the second day. Ron was more or less back to his normal self, but Hermione had become a little more subdued, a little quieter. The official beginning of the war had a different effect on everyone. Madam Pomfrey had insisted Meredith stay another day, despite having no signs of trauma or blood anywhere on her body; the weariness must have shown on her face. Meredith hadn't protested this time. It was time to rest.
Plenty of her friends had visited her over the past two days. Harry came by frequently, often accompanied by Neville, and read recent Daily Prophet articles to the three ( "Lucius Malfoy sent to Azkaban for Death Eater activity" and "Headmistress Dolores Umbridge sacked and Dumbledore to return to Hogwarts" were ones that particularly piqued her interest ). Ginny and Luna had dropped in twice once to check on them. The redhead's leg had healed completely thanks to Madam Pomfrey's immaculate care and Luna was back to her little odd self. She would read them articles from the Quibbler instead. Meredith learnt a considerable amount about Nargles.
Other than Dumbledore's Army, her other friends had dropped by as well. Pansy and Daphne had dropped by once in the evening after dinner, although turning their noses up at Ron and Hermione ( "You've been a part of Dumbledore's Army the whole time?" ). Padma poked her head in briefly to say hello. Seamus and Dean had wished them a speedy recovery, telling them about the situation in Hogwarts at the moment with Umbridge gone and Dumbledore returned to his rightful place. Blaise came by quite often as well, bringing Meredith some books to pass the time and sat by her side, glaring stonily at the Gryffindors nearby.
Draco hadn't come by once over the past two days. And Meredith wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or relieved.
At times when she was left alone, when Ron and Hermione were fast asleep or engrossed in their own conversations, Meredith thought a lot about him. About the first time they met on the train. About the times she had scolded him for being prejudiced. About the times he called her out for being all high and mighty. About the times they fought. About the times they had shared a laugh together. About the times they had felt serene and safe around each other. But now? Now everything felt so inconsequential to the main issue she was facing. The fact that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater and Draco probably was too. But was that worth it?
She made up her mind then, as the sun faded away on the second evening and brought a new night.
( 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘, 𝟏𝟔 )
Draco knew that she that Meredith had returned safe.
He barely remembered the evening before. When he sprinted across the bridge in search of Meredith, it seemed that he was too late and they had already taken off to Merlin knows where. He had gone to bed hungry, unable to fall asleep for the hours that followed, wondering what was happening to her.
Wondering if she was safe.
Realising that he would not get any sleep that night, Draco slipped out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to check if she had returned. He supposed that she would end up in the hospital wing so that was where he decided to check first. Hastily shoving on shoes and throwing over a sweater, glaring at a half-awake Crabbe, he took the long climb up the stairs from the dungeons. The night outside was eerily silent; only the occasional owl hoot or rustle of the trees broke the hush as Draco shuffled to the hospital wing, consumed in his own thoughts. So consumed that he hadn't realised that he had walked straight into Professor Sprout.
She looked extremely frazzled, her usually flyaway hair an even larger catastrophe, eyes still laden from sleep as if she had been suddenly awoken. She huffed, righting her robes, "Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?" Draco was about to argue with her but bit his tongue instead and answered coolly, trying hard not to let the concern show in his voice, "I was wondering if Ms. Darling had returned from...her mission with Potter and his friends."
Professor Sprout's face instantly softened, and she answered, her tone less harsh this time, "They just got to the hospital wing with Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were hit with unusual spells that required my assistance to cure with Minerva still in St. Mungo's. Although, I do suggest you give Ms. Darling time to rest and visit her when she wakes. Poor girl was shivering in pain when they carried her in unconscious." She lamented as an afterthought, a genuine look of sorrow upon her face.
Shivering in pain? Unconcious? That set off warning bells in his head that something had gone seriously wrong but he nodded and Sprout bumbled off in her usual fashion. Draco debated for a moment internally, but decided to head back down to the his dormitory to try to get some rest; what Meredith needed now was not Draco, but some quiet to rest and recuperate after the ordeal she had seemingly been through.
She didn't need Draco then. And that was alright.
He planned to visit her come morning, but hesitated upon receiving a letter from his mother as soon as he awoke. About how Lucius Malfoy had been thrown in Azkaban for being a Death Eater. It disturbed him. Not that his father was a Death Eater ( he had known that already ) but how Draco felt, in the deepest trenches of his heart, that he deserved to be thrown in Azkaban. Because he was an awful man who had hurt those around him. A man who was willing to hurt anyone around him. Who had hurt Meredith Darling. But Lucius Malfoy was first and foremost his father. A man he had grown up respecting for his greatness. A terrible battle raged in Draco's mind that morning.
He decided not to see her.
Three mornings later, a note floated onto his bedside table as he lay on his bed, perusing a book that he had read probably a thousand times over by now in hopes of passing the drawn out days as they approached the long-awaited summer holidays. Draco wasn't quite looking forward to this summer.
Meredith leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, her dark hair fluttering gently in the wind, a soft glow to her rosy face. One would not have guessed that she had just recovered from an encounter with the deadliest Death Eaters to date. He had only heard bits and pieces of what had happened to her through Blaise and Pansy but everything merely told him that she had been deeply traumatised. Why she had even wanted to see Draco was a complete mystery to him. The son of the man who led the Death Eaters, he thought bitterly to himself.
"Hey," She murmured softly as he leaned against the railing beside her. Her face up close was tired and beaten but she still had the ghost of a smile haunting her lips. He bit his lower lip, unsure how to respond,
"Hello, Darling."
"Draco, I—" She started, but he cut her off suddenly, "I know what this is about." Did he? Not really, but right now, he could not let her be the one to speak. Could not let her say the words that he feared the most. No, he'd hold on to her for as long as possible. As long as he possibly could hold onto the light.
He scrutinised her face, trying to decipher the wheels that were turning in her head, but found that he could not. It was not disappointment. It was not anger. It was not hate. It was just blank. Her normally expressive face and vibrant expressions had become...blank. Utterly blank. And it was that same mere blankness that terrified Draco.
"Draco," She started again, gaze now hinting at sadness which relieved Draco slightly ( it was far less terrifying that her previous expression devoid of emotion ), her voice dropping more to a murmur, "I know how these things work. Your father being a Death Eater." Draco was about to protest, but she cut across, taking his hands in hers, "Let me speak. I have to speak. Just let me have a minute." He could give her a minute. Just one measly minute. His whole world couldn't possibly come crashing down in a minute.
"Although we've had our differences this year, I'd like to thank you." She sniffed a little, but no tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, "For being there for me. For making me laugh until I cried."
She would not cry, no, Meredith Darling would not let anyone see her cry, would not let anyone see tears slipping down her pristine face. Because that's who they were; who they were brought up and meant to be. Soldiers, armed and poised, ready to head into battle. The day that Draco Malfoy cries, would be the day that the sky would fall upon them all, crushing them in its unbearable weight. His heart ached in his chest as he witnessed the state she was in. So broken. And because of him. She was broken because of him and he loathed himself for it.
He hated himself for being Draco Malfoy.
"For making me remember what is important in the world. I thank you, Draco Malfoy." Her voice was barely audible, scarcely a whisper now, as the tears began freely falling. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, tell her that she was going to be alright, that they would get through this together. Because she was Meredith Darling. She was a ferocious storm and nothing could take her down. Not a lightning bolt, not a hundred king's men, not a force of a thousand of the darkest wizards could take her down. Because Meredith Darling was a bloody hurricane and nothing could take her down.
The next six words that slipped from her lips were a curse. A curse that some unholy god had placed upon him, mocking and jeering at the poor boy as they uttered the spell, to damn him for eternity; damn him to a life of hopelessness. To damn him to a loveless life. Six words that rang in his head, screeching like a warning bell. Six words that left him numb and unable to comprehend the world around him. Six words that fell from that damn mouth of hers like it was a prophecy written in the stars.
He never would have thought that six words would make his heart crumble into a million pieces. That six little words would bring the downfall of Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy who relentlessly bullied his schoolmates with no fear of retribution. The Draco Malfoy that always had a witty comeback, who's hobby seemed to be thinking himself superior to others because of his blood status, who could be such an arse at times. Left speechless, as he often was when it came to Meredith Darling; because there was just something about her that was so damn fascinating, something about the way she merely existed. The girl who brought him to his knees with six words.
And, despite all of the trials and tribulations, all the uncertainties and unanswered questions, all the darkness and fear, Draco Malfoy was quite certain of one thing:
He was in love with Meredith Darling.
How could he not, when she was easily the most beautiful intelligent all around mesmerising girl he had ever had the fortune to meet in his sad miserable lifetime? Would one deny an encounter with an angel? So he leaned in a little closer, memorising every freckle and mark upon her face. He clung onto her very being, desperate to keep her here. Not to lose her.
It wasn't necessarily in a purely romantic way, especially since he was merely sixteen and had no real concept of what love truly meant, but in a way so deep and pure that Draco would never be able to put it into words; because it was the sort of love that you would feel for someone that you knew was your forever. Because they accepted you and loved you all the same, they knew you were a better person. Throughout his entire life, Draco carried the weight of the world. He was supposed to be his parent's pride and joy, supposed to be the best of the best, someone that everyone could be proud of. But Meredith had seen him for him the entire year, had seen all his warts and boils, and all she had expected of him was to keep trying. Because to try was all they could ever really do.
He wanted her to love him; it was a selfish desire but deep in his heart, he knew she didn't love him back, there was no way she could. Not after what she had been through. But he couldn't resist. Couldn't resist having just this one moment to store in his heart forever.
The heartache first set in like a red hot coal placed in his chest, it glowed and burnt him at the same time, but it did not cool quickly like a coal in water, it throbbed and tortured him in all his walking hours and there was no relief to be found. Draco never expected to experience his first love and his first heartbreak on the same day but what was he to expect? He was the son of a Death Eater. He was an awful person who belittled others to make himself feel better. He had fallen in love with a girl who was far too pure for him. A girl who went to the ends of the earth for her friends, even if they were as insufferable as Potter. Of course, it would end up in heartbreak.
So Draco stood there, back against the fading evening light, those six miserable words washing over him like a tidal wave of emotions;
"But I can't choose you, Malfoy."
And that was it.
guys i want to cry!!! i'm torturing my poor babies here because i'm absolutely evil. but that concludes part i of this fic! i'm so excited to delve into part ii of this fic and actually get somewhere with the storyline. thank you to all those who have been supporting this fic consistently! i really never thought i'd ever get this far as i have a habit of ditching fics very early on,,,( i'm looking at you: outlined cedric diggory fic ) but the support for this small story has been amazing!! remember to drop a vote on the first twenty chapters hehe and see you in sixth year sometime soon :)
END OF ACT I.