Sequel to ACA

An Eternal Bliss

Sequel to A Constant Ache

Chapter One

Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.

~Author Unknown

It was the most trying time in Draco’s life. He had thought he had seen all the suffering there was and had had his fair share in plenty, but who knew there was more to come? If Blaise and his mother hadn’t pushed him to it, Draco would have gone happily to his grave just to end the miserable ache in his body, but his two closest people in the world were the most stubborn gits he’d ever known.

How they ever convinced him and how he ever agreed, was lost on Draco, but he found himself wheeled into the sterilized building and his sterilized new room. He was going to be here till he got better, his mum told him and Blaise promised to keep him there even if he had to patrol the corridors at night.

Draco had his doubts. They could keep him here as long as they liked and run as many tests as they wanted to, but he still wouldn’t be cured. Hadn’t the same man declared his death sentence not two years ago? How could he suddenly come up with a miracle cure?

But the point had never been to cure him-they knew it was quite impossible-it was merely to stall the disease. Draco wondered why anyone even bothered. He hated being a nuisance and living for longer than necessary would certainly make one a nuisance. He had tried to protest, but it was a losing battle against his mum’s tears.

So here he lay now, tubes running in and out of his arms and chest carrying liquids with weird colors. Mechanical contraptions surrounded his bed, blinking lights and showing funny charts. Someone was always present by his bedside with a clipboard, jotting things down and never speaking  a word. Draco would have gone insane in the months that ensued if he hadn’t been heavily sedated every time they poked and prodded him. He saw his mum sometimes, always with a watery smile, speaking words which he sometimes found hard to make out. Blaise was a regular thorn in his side, but his presence kept Draco sane. He was always making jokes and smiling and holding Draco’s hand which reassured Draco in a strange way. Around Blaise, he didn’t have to hide the pain or confusion.

So days blended into weeks and weeks bled into months till one night, he was wheeled in through double doors, stretched under a heavy light, and knocked out for a good twelve hours while they sorted out his “problem”.  Draco would never clearly remember his time in there, but the first thing he noticed when he came around two days later was how light he felt. The pain in his limbs was dull at best and for the first time in months, he smiled broadly without his jaw protesting.

Blaise explained that they had operated on his spine, cut him open from the back to get to his magical core. They had dulled the intensity with which he felt pain, but it would be temporary and they didn’t know how long the effects would last. The disease will continue its progression, but without the pain, Draco felt he could manage the rest relatively calmly. At least now, he thought he could somewhat enjoy his remaining time.

Blaise took him home a week later where his Aunt Andromeda and mother welcomed him with open arms. Then followed peaceful days of Draco recovering and accommodating to this new feeling of comfort. He still had horrible headaches and there were days when his hands couldn’t stop shaking, side effects of the new potions, but there was no continuous pain. For the first time in years, Draco thought about his future and possibilities.

He never confided this in his mother, but when Blaise came over, he told him of his plans and was glad in his friend’s shout of delight. He brought him the books Draco requested and spent long evenings going over subjects for Draco’s comprehension. They set up a small lab in the guest room and Narcissa even helped plant the herb garden in the backyard. She didn’t know how her son was going to manage brewing potions for long hours, but if that was what he wanted to do, then she wouldn’t stop him.

Potions had always been a great love of Draco’s-something he’d inherited from Lucious’ interest in the Dark Arts-and if he was willing to start a new life, who was she to stop him? She couldn’t be happier! With Blaise’ help, they secured a small circle of clients, mostly affiliated with the hospital Blaise worked at, but keeping them supplied kept Draco busy, and for a time, he appeared content.

Working in the lab kept his mind of things, but there was nothing to stop suppressed thoughts from resurfacing in idle moments. At night, Draco often lay awake well into the night, thinking about the one person he had tried to live so long without.  He wondered if he still had a chance with her-now that he could somewhat pursue a normal life.

From what Blaise had told him, she was still single. Would she still accept him after he abandoned her? Sometimes, Draco laughed at his inner fantasies. How could he come into her life after all that? And that too, with the death sentence still looming over him? Life had been cruel to him, but he wasn’t about to thrust his misery on her.

So he told himself, but still he found his thoughts wandering to her night and day. Outwardly, he maintained the calm, cheery façade for his mother and aunt, but inside, he was still writhing in agony. Draco had returned to pretend through life and if he thought no one suspected him, he was wrong.

Narcissa knew. She could read her son plain as day and it hurt her to know that he was hiding things, wearing a false mask in front of her. She never prodded him, but she pushed Blaise to it. She knew her son was close to the dark boy and she knew he would open up to him if no one else.

But she didn’t like what Blaise told her. Hadn’t she told Draco not to involve himself with that girl? Hadn’t she warned him it would lead to nothing but trouble? But her reasons fell on deaf ears because Blaise was adamant to have Granger back in Draco’s life.

She was what Draco needed right now, he explained, but Narcissa failed to see why her son would ever need a half-blood. She didn’t understand what her son ever saw in that buck-toothed girl. Of course, she knew how smart the girl was and she knew how brave she had been to take down the Dark Lord-Harry Potter’s closest friend-but Draco had always disliked her. She couldn’t understand how that intense dislike had morphed into-dare she admit it?-love!

Determined, she turned a blind eye to Draco’s pining, thinking his growing depression just a side effect of the potions. She ignored Andromeda’s insistence that she go and speak to Draco-to sort out his tangled feelings and contact Granger if need be. Andromeda was too much of a free spirit and glad as Narcissa was to have her sister’s company, she wasn’t about to be influenced.

Besides, Lucius was still alive and she wasn’t about to taint their blood to taunt her husband more. Draco seemed to understand her predicament because he never mentioned the girl. He never even complained.

“He’s suffering in silence,” Andromeda told her one evening as she made tea, “Just like before, Cissy, he’s suffering alone. How can you put him through this again? Have you and Lucius learned nothing?”

Narcissa pursed her lips and passed the tea to her sister in silence, but she knew deep down that Andromeda was right.  Draco was battling himself again, but this time, he needn’t be alone. This time, his mother could help him…and Narcissa intended to-soon as she found the courage.