To Me, From Me // DHr ✔️

t w e n t y

The thestrals reminded her of everyone she's lost along the way. The hole that they left in her heart hasn't quite been filled yet, and was looking to be empty for quite a while. Glancing towards Malfoy who still had that vacant expression in his eyes as he stared out into her little window, she thought of those he lost. After all, a war is unforgiving for both the sides.

She remembered seeing a paper headlined with the fate of Lucius Malfoy. She remembered she was already back at Hogwarts that day she picked it up. She remembered the people cheering and shouting around her, all so very happy that he got what he deserved (yet some were grumbling it still wasn't enough) She remembered her thoughts traveling to the very man with the dead eyes and high cheekbones that was with her now and how he was handling his father being sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment and a Kiss. Would it make him feel better if she offered her condolences? Is condolence even the proper term? He's technically not dead.

Just a shell of who he used to be. He may as well be dead.

Like she had somehow spoken her musings out loud, he sliced at the quietness with a raspy voice that didn't sound at all like Malfoy. "If you're going to say sorry for what happened to my father, don't. That's only what people say when they don't have anything else to say."

Her eyes softened. "I was going to say sorry for you."

When Malfoy twisted his head to look at her, she continued. "You lost a father." She shrugged. "From an orphan to another, I do have an inkling as to how you're feeling, even if my father wasn't blindly following a madman."

"You're not an orphan though." He said pointedly. "I know what you did to your parents, hell, the entire bloody world knows about it. They're alive somewhere, and it is only because you did the charm too damn well that you can't reverse it without damaging their psyche."

Did he just compliment me? I must be drunker than I thought.

"You're right; I'm not an orphan – just disowned." If Malfoy was stunned at her confession, he didn't let it show.

"They've um, regained their memories of me." The quietness of her voice unsettled her. She hadn't realized that before now, she's never talked about this to anyone – not even to Harry and Ron. Not that she didn't want to, they were just gone by that time.

"I never told them how dangerous it was back then. I knew for sure they wouldn't let me come back if they knew that I had a bright red target on me. They knew that Muggle-borns are prejudiced against, knew about you bullying me, but never the full extent. They'd pull me out and break my wand in half before I could say goodbye to anyone."

Realization dawned on his features as he nodded. "They got angry."

She gave out a mirthless laugh. "So angry. When I've managed to undo the spell, with the help of two Curse-Breakers and Headmistress McGonagall, they kicked them all out, and then me." She hadn't even realized that she was already crying until she tasted salt. "Because they made me choose."

"And you didn't choose them."

"I couldn't. How could I? Magic is a part of me, despite you thinking that I don't deserve it, or that I stole it. I just can't imagine living my life without it." She shifted her focus back to her blanket and bunched it up with her fist.

She could feel the tipsiness seeping out of her and only a dull headache to take its place; the conversations she's had throughout the night helped mitigate her intoxicated state and she was thankful for that, for at least she wasn't out of it too much to make a fool out of herself. It also seemed to her that enough words were already spoken tonight, and that her companion thought so too, so Malfoy got up from her bed and patted away the invisible dust that has caught on his filthy rich pants.

"Can't say that it was a pleasure carrying you all the way here, as my shoulder is sore and there are several saliva spots on my back thanks to you dribbling like a child when you're inebriated. Do the world a favor and not drink ever again." He pivoted on his heel and was already halfway out the door when Hermione called out for him.

"Hey, Draco!" He looked at her expectantly, bored even. She rolled her eyes.

"You're a prat, but thank you."