congredior: meet, come together, come face to face
———
"YOU'RE AWAKE."
Draco was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Astoria's soft voice and stiffened when she turned onto her side to drape one arm over his bare chest, her head resting on his shoulder.
He'd never even slept. His thoughts had been plagued by Granger's words a fortnight ago. He found it increasingly difficult to resist the temptation to do as she asked and he hated her for giving him the oppurtunity. It'd been easier when he had known Elara didn't know he existed—it had been the only thing keeping him away these past two years.
"Draco."
He blinked as Astoria spoke again and she lifted herself up onto her elbows to frown at him, delicate eyebrows pulled together. "Are you alright?"
Draco rubbed one hand across his jaw, the warmth of her bare body against his making him uncomfortable. He didn't like to be near her like this—sex was the only time he could stand to touch her.
"Fine," he answered, curtly, moving to sit up and get off the bed but Astoria stopped him, one hand on his chest, pushing him down. He could've easily overpowered her but forced himself to relax back into the bed, not wanting to alarm her more.
"You sure you slept?" she asked, gently, honey brown eyes focused on him. He nodded, a lie.
"I have to go."
"Where?" she inquired, sliding off him as he got to his feet and crossed over to the bathroom, intending to take a shower. "You said the Dark Lord wouldn't summon you—"
"Why do you have to ask so many fucking questions?" Draco snapped, not even turning to look at her as he stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Self-loathing was an easy place to sink into—he'd felt it for so long, had accepted it, had fucked Astoria and rammed his fists into walls to drive away the thoughts of it.
And yet, he still felt no remorse—not for essentially killing Dumbledore, not for unleashing Death Eaters into his school. The only reason he regretted the things he'd done was because of her.
Because he had sentenced her to two years of torture and mind-numbing suffering, had taken away her friends and family from her the night she was captured, had forced her to go through pain she had never deserved.
All because he had to save his mother.
And it would've been more merciful to kill her—to save her from the agony she'd have to go through at the hands of the Death Eaters. If he had been kind, he would've done as she asked and killed her that night under Malfoy Manor.
But Draco Malfoy had never claimed he wasn't selfish. Because he was. And his selfishness had been exactly what had driven him to whisper those words in the dungeons underneath the Manor.
"Obliviate."
It had torn a part of him out to do it and his vision had blurred for a moment.
He had then whispered a Somnium and had caught her as her eyes shut and she fell, unconscious, limp in his arms.
He had leaned down to brush a kiss against her forehead and then lower her to the ground, gently.
He was selfish. It was why he couldn't kill her.
He had Obliviated her that night under Malfoy Manor, the last time he'd ever see her for the next two years. Had wiped every last trace of her life since fifth year—the pathetic rabble of friends they called Dumbledore's Army, everything about Potter and the Horcruxes, everything regarding the Vanishing Cabinet. He had ripped her family from her memory, couldn't risk the Dark Lord finding out about them, had removed almost every important memory he could think of connected to Hogwarts and her life.
He had done it for her. So that she could save herself the shame and the self-hatred she would feel when they tortured her and she gave up information—as he knew she would, because Death Eaters quite enjoyed torturing prisoners and they'd never failed at making someone talk.
And then he'd extracted himself—had slid through her mind and dissolved every single frame where he stood, every single thought, no matter how miniscule, that she had had about him. It had shattered him in ways he hadn't even thought possible as he saw the way she had looked at him, unbiased and forgiving and ever the fucking Saint.
She had loved him—for nothing other than the fact that he was Draco. It had made tears sting the back of his eyes and he'd hated it. Himself.
Her mind had tried to cling onto the memories, had begged him not to take them but he had gritted his teeth against the pain and persisted. By the time he was done only a few short seconds later—Draco Malfoy had never existed to Elara Jacobs except as a distant classmate and acquaintance.
To her, they had never happened. They had never joined, had never become the supernova that he knew they had, had never had their souls touch just that slightest bit. He was wiped from her life and he bitterly wished he could do the same with her in his.
But then the door to the dungeon had clanged open and four Death Eaters had swarmed in, his aunt at the head. Bellatrix had taken in the scene with beady black eyes, Elara's lifeless form crumpled at his feet, his wand pointed at her.
"Decided to have some fun, did you, Draco?" she had crooned, giving him a proud grin.
"She's quite entertaining under the Cruciatus," he had replied, smoothly, not even missing a beat as he pocketed his wand. "Even nicer when she can't scream."
Rookwood had snickered from behind Bellatrix. "We'll all get a turn, won't we, Bella?"
Disgust had curled in Draco's throat and he had barely refrained himself from slamming his fist into Rookwood's face. One day, he would get revenge. Revenge for what they were about to do to Elara.
But today was not that day—not if he wanted her to survive.
"She's already dying," Draco said, stiffly. "Any more torture and her mind will shatter. The Dark Lord won't be able to get anything out of her."
"That's the fun of it," Bellatrix had grinned but had made no move towards Elara's unconscious form.
He pushed through the group as his aunt cackled, suddenly finding it increasingly hard to swallow.
Give me time, Elara, he had thought, his eyes wet by the time he made it to his room and sank to the floor, his head tipping back against the door. I'll get you out. Just give me time.
|
Draco was pulled out of his thoughts as he stepped out of the shower and began to slide on his clothes.
The black ink on his forearm stared up at him, the skin torn, fracturing the tattoo into distorted pieces and he realised he'd probably been clawing at it while under the hot water. He hadn't even noticed. He'd become so immune to the pain.
He cast a Healing charm over it before he pulled the sleeve of his black shirt down, caught his reflection in the mirror and looked away from the shattered man he saw. He had had her for such a short time—he hadn't had enough time to chase away his desires and satiate himself with the taste and feel of her.
He told himself if he'd had more time with her, he wouldn't miss her so much. That he would've been able to satisfy his thirst for her—emotional and physical. But deep down, behind his walls of Occlumency, he knew that no matter what he did, she would always be an ache in the left side of his chest—he would always crave her in whatever way he could.
He wondered how he'd kept away the past two years since he'd got her out—because ever since Granger had told him Elara wanted to see him, his entire world seemed to have been warped into one where nothing else existed but her.
She had asked for him. He so desperately wanted to go.
Gritting his teeth, Draco pulled up more barriers between him and his thoughts, compartmentalising them despite the way he wanted to linger on the memory of her for years to come.
Life would go on—with or without her.
It had to.
He finished fixing the cuffs of his shirt, looking down at the small snake-shaped links and realised his fingers were shaking.
He stilled them, pausing for a moment to take a breath before he did his belt and ran his hands through his damp hair, his gaze on the floor.
She wanted to see him. She remembered him—but how much?
All at once, the air shimmered in front of him and immediately, every nerve in his body was on edge, his hand moving to his wand.
Disbelief settled low in his ribs as the Patronus took form. An otter. Granger.
Elara.
He felt some of his shields slip, felt panic bleed in—Granger had promised not to send one unless absolutely necessary, unless—
He was out of the bathroom in record time, summoning his cloak from the closet at the same time as he leaned down to lace on his boots.
Astoria was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with wary eyes as he got ready.
"Be careful," was all she said and he knew she was scared he would snap at her again. Although there was no love lost between them, he knew she cared about him.
"I will." He was out of the door before the two words had left his throat.
As soon as he crossed the Anti-Apparition wards of the house, stepping past the large black iron gates, he felt the familiar tug in his stomach and Apparated, vanishing into thin air.
If something had happened to her—
He struggled to keep his Occlumency shields up but it was like trying to hold back a werewolf on a full moon. His thoughts forced their way out, sent his mind into a frenzy.
What if she'd been captured again?
What if there had been a raid on the safehouse—one he hadn't known about?
And then another thought—more disconcerting than the last two.
What if she was dead?
It usually took him three jumps to get to the meeting place in the forest that Granger and him had agreed on.
This time, he did it in two.
The forest materialised around him and the cold early morning air grazed the planes of his face as he felt the ground solidify beneath him.
But as soon as the world came into focus around him, he realised he was alone.
Granger wasn't here.
His pulse pounded and he summoned all his strength to bring up his Occlumency walls up again.
Something had happened at the safehouse. She'd sent a Patronus—but hadn't been able to get here.
Draco was striding out from between the trees in less than a second, his wand at his side as he emerged from between the pines, his breath white wisps in the air. He just had to cross the top of the hill and he'd be able to see the safehouse nestled in the valley below.
Elara was there. She was there and she was in danger—
"Malfoy."
His entire body went rigid, his steps faltering. The oxygen vanished from his lungs.
No.
The emotions that rose in him clawed at his throat, almost suffocating, and his hand spasmed by his side.
Because he knew that voice. Hadn't heard it in four years—she hadn't been able to talk when he'd gotten her out—but knew it as if it was his own.
He turned.
She was standing at the line of the trees he'd just strode out of. In his haste to get to her, he hadn't even realised she'd been a few metres away, hidden in the shadows.
He started to inwardly curse himself for his oversight—in any other situation, he would've been killed for his carelessness—but then his brain seemed to register who he was looking at.
Looking at her was like taking a dagger to the throat.
She didn't look any thinner—which he figured was a good thing because she'd been mere skin and bones when he'd gotten her out. But her hair was dark and curlier than he'd remembered, framing her face in such a way it made her look sharper.
She was practically swallowed up by her navy blue sweater, the sleeves falling over her hands, and her cheeks were pink from the cold, indicating that she'd been out here for a while. He couldn't see them but he knew there would be freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and a beauty spot above her lip.
It had been so long since he'd seen someone so beautiful.
Even though his Occlumency kept most of the feelings out, he could still hear the thrum of his pulse in his ears, the tremor in his hand causing it to spasm around his wand, his chest constricting until it hurt to breathe.
And as soon as he turned to face her fully, she seemed to stumble back, her eyes widening, her hand moving to press her palm flat against her forehead as if she had a headache.
She was only a few metres away at the edge of the treeline, him standing at the base of the small hill he'd have to cross to get to the safehouse.
"I know you." She steadied herself, her free hand pressing to the bark of the tree next to her. "I know you."
The ache in Draco's chest flared to life at her voice and expression—so lost and confused.
He had done this to her. His shields were falling, the sight of her enough to fracture him.
He made to Apparate, went rigid when it didn't work. He realised what she'd done even before she spoke.
"Anti-Apparition wards." She'd lured him out of the forest and within the vicinity of the safehouse where the wards were in place.
"Fucking Ravenclaws," he muttered underneath his breath and thought it was a fitting first sentence. Then, louder. "Where's Granger?"
It was more a statement than a question and Elara's eyebrows furrowed at his brusque tone. "Why do I know you?"
Draco clenched his jaw and slammed his Occlumency walls back up with immense difficulty.
He couldn't give in to the desire he felt to cross the distance between them and gather her against him, twist one hand into her hair and pull her to him to make sure she was real. Feel her soft, small body against his, brand her with his mouth until she remembered everything he'd taken from her.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." His voice was edged and blank and he turned away from her to stride towards the safe house and demand why Granger had sent him a Patronus.
It hurt to even turn his back on her.
"Yes, you do." Her voice was as cold as his and he sensed her follow him up the small incline. When her hand grazed his arm, he twisted away like he'd been scorched through his sleeve. "You got me out. I remember."
Draco faltered. How? He had told Potter to remove any memory she had of that encounter as soon as she was healed.
It should've been impossible. She hadn't even been wearing the ring he'd given her—not that it had done much after its initial usefulness.
"You and Harry," Elara went on, keeping up with him as he made his way down the hill, his cloak billowing around him, the hood still over his head. "You got me out—and you healed me because..." She winced as if it hurt to remember. "Because I could've died from the Apparition. My skull was—"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He was going to kill Granger—strangle her and leave her out for crows to have at.
Draco pulled ahead of Elara, easily, lengthening his strides, his face emotionless although the rage in his chest twisted like a knife.
When she spoke again, her voice was almost lost to the wind, quiet but laced with a certain element he hadn't expected.
Desperation.
"You said—you said in another life."
Draco halted as the left side of his chest throbbed and his Occlumency shields collapsed for the hundredth time today.
In another life, Elara. I promise.
Words said in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor before he Obliviated her.
In another life—but you have to live this one without me.
From his mind to hers when he'd finally gotten her out.
Both times, he'd said it to give her a shred of solace in her agony. Both times he had known he would rip the words out of her mind right after he said them.
Both times, he'd never expected her to remember.
But here she was—some unexplainable enigma—staring at him with those dark eyes he'd thought about so many times over the past four years, repeating that very same sentence back to him.
"I know you said it." She seemed breathless as she crossed her arms over her chest, standing in front of him now, between him and the safehouse. "And I know you saved me. And I know you're...familiar. I don't know how or why but you are. And I know you know why."
Memories of her lithe body in his arms, his hands framing her soft stomach like she was made to fit between them. Her lips ghosting over his, turned up in that gentle smile she always had when she looked at him. Legs tangled with his underneath his sheets, her fingers running through his hair as he listened to her talk.
Salazar, did he know why.
"No idea," he said, shortly, stepping around her and continuing on towards the safehouse only for her to reach out and curl her hand into his.
It was a searing touch and it made him burn from the inside out until he wondered how flames weren't actually licking at his fingers and it was just her hand in his, tugging him back.
He yanked his hand out of her grasp, his chest constricting, as he turned on her.
"Look," he seethed, although his body ached to pick her up and take her somewhere far away where he could explain everything to her. "I don't know what the fuck you're on about— but I do know that you were being tortured in that fucking cell for two years."
Elara's hands clenched into fists, her dark eyes suddenly flashing. "I'm not—"
"Yes, you are." Draco didn't drag his gaze from hers. "You're fucking mental. I don't even know you. I just got you out from that cell."
She took a step forward, defiant and stubborn. "You're not a very good liar."
It was a phrase he hadn't been expecting—because he knew he was an expert at lying and hiding his true nature.
"I am no one to you," he hissed, trying to ignore the ache in his chest that came just by looking at her. "And you sure as hell aren't anything to me. So try to curb your obsession and get on with your life."
He had expected her to look angry or offended or even—even hurt at his statement but she had that mask of indifference over her features, just looking at him coolly with those eyes.
He turned on his heel before she could retaliate and strode towards the steps of the porch.
"You're a fucking liar, Malfoy!" she called after him, her voice steady and unbothered. It infuriated him—especially when the tangle of emotions simmering in his chest was making him want to slam his fist into the door of the house until it splintered and made him bleed.
"You'll talk eventually." It was the second to last sentence he heard before he crossed the threshold. "Sooner or later, I'll get it out of you."
Something in his gut told him she would.
———
okay ugh i lowkey hate this chapter
i wanted to make their meeting so much more dramatic from draco's side but he's using occlumency so i couldn't really depict all of his emotions, i hope that doesn't make it anti-climactic
vote!
lmk ur thoughts on the glimpses you've got into elara and draco's new characters, if any :)
kisses, always,
nyx