ACA: Chapter 3, 4

Chapter 3

“The human body can bear immeasurable pain and yet recover.
Wounds can heal.
But once your spirit is broken, everything falls apart.”

-Palden Gyasto (Human Rights Activist)

Draco glared at Granger when she passed him on her way back, pointedly ignoring the curious look she gave him. He hated the concern in her brown eyes. He knew it was rehearsed and fake.

Once she was well out of sight, he sighed and dropped his head on his knees. God, he hurt. His muscles felt so sore and stiff, and he felt exhausted enough to pass out the moment he stepped off the train. He was contemplating whether to just skip the Sorting and go straight to bed, when the train suddenly gave a vicious jerk. Draco was sent flying into the wall, his elbow colliding harshly with the hard surface. He stifled a yelp and cradled his arm as the train slowed to a stop. Students stuck their heads out, murmuring at the sudden stop.

Draco pulled himself to his feet and stared out the window. It was pitch black and…he saw something moving out there. Squinting, he pressed closer to the window, trying to see through the thick fog. He could trace black shapes pawing the ground and trotting about. Once his eyes adjusted and the fog thinned, he gasped at the horse like winged creatures roaming about in the grass. They were tall and somewhat skeletal, their hides and enormous wings stretched taunt as though made of leather.

Thestrals, he gulped, seeing them for the first time.

A pigeon owl suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere and dropped a letter in his hand. Draco scrutinized the scruffy bird, recognizing It as one of Hogwarts’ and cracked open the seal on the parchment. Spidery scrawls greeted him.

Mr. Malfoy,

There has been an unexpected delay, the cause of which you can very well see. It’s time you put yourself to use and carry out the responsibilities the Headmaster for some unfathomable reason granted you.

Severus Snape

Head of House

Slytherin

Draco cursed under his breath when he realized just what those expected duties were. He made his way slowly back to the compartment and found the Trio talking loudly among themselves over the delay.

“Blimey, at least it’s not Dementors this time,” Weasley breathed.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to move them somehow,” Granger remarked as she fastened on her cloak with a golden pin shining on its nape.

“I thought you’d be Head Girl,” Draco suavely replied and the four turned startled eyes on him, just now noticing his presence.

“Got a problem with that?” Harry asked, his voice laced with hatred.

Draco merely frowned, in no mood to argue with the world’s biggest prat. He picked up his cloak and swung it over his shoulders, making sure the pin stood out like Granger’s.

“No way! You’re Head Boy?!” Weasley cried as their jaws dropped. “What the hell is Dumbledore thinking!” He seemed to be the only one able to speak.

“Apparently he isn’t thinking at all,” Ginny Weasley muttered, crossing her arms.

Granger suddenly cleared her throat. “Well, since you are Head Boy, why don’t you go calm the Slytherins? We’ll go see about the thestrals after.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Honestly Granger, you don’t think thestrals just appear out of thin air, do you? We’re on Hogwarts grounds, possibly fifteen minutes from the gates. You don’t need to do anything about those beasts. Just tell everyone to walk out.”

“Then you go handle the Slytherins,” she sniffed and turned to her friends, “I guess I’ll see you at the castle.”

They nodded and she spun on her heel without another word. Malfoy sullenly retreated back out the corridor, wondering how the hell he was to confront his House. He spotted Blaise and Nott hanging out their compartment and decided to approach them.

“Uh, Zabini! Nott!” he called and they turned around to face him, only to scowl their disapproval.

“What do you want Malfoy?” Zabini spat, his eyes glinting dangerously. If they noticed his pin, they ignored it.

“Just for you to get off the train. Everyone’s walking back to Hogwarts. Tell the others.” And without waiting for anymore spiteful remarks, he hopped off the train in a flurry of swirling robes.

**

Draco wished for once he hadn’t tried to show anyone up and kept his bloody mouth shut. The short walk to the carriages was exhausting! At one point, he was sure he would fall flat on his face in the mud from lethargy.

Bloody hell Draco! Wake up! he chided himself, pinching his cheeks to keep his eyes open. The bone-numbing cold didn’t help either and the rumbling in the clouds threatened rain any second.

“Malfoy! Hurry up or the carriage will leave!” He looked up to see who in the world dared address him and was hardly surprised when Granger beckoned him impatiently.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said as he climbed with some difficulty.

“Believe me, we wouldn’t have,” Harry replied.

“But you left this,” Granger cut in before he could retort back, thrusting his textbook in his arms. Draco merely tucked it under his cloak without so much as a grateful nod.

The ride to the castle was silent. The Trio was deliberately avoiding Draco’s eyes and he wondered once to check if he had something on his face. When was the last time he’d ever sat in silence with the Trio without at least earning or giving a black eye? He had the urge to suddenly throw in a few colorful insults, but he was so tired he couldn’t manage more than a stifled yawn.

They parted ways with muted glares and Draco stumbled up the steps and to his House table. No one paid him much heed when he slumped on the bench, head in his hands. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

**

“…aring all the time-Hermione?”

She started and flicked her gaze to Harry who was frowning slightly at her. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at Malfoy for the past five minutes!” he hotly cried.

“Oh, well he is acting strange, isn’t he?” she shrugged, helping herself to more pumpkin juice. The Sorting had finished, announcements had been made, and the feast had begun, yet Malfoy hadn’t so much as stirred through the entirety.

“Sleeping like a log, that one,” Ron said, glancing over his shoulder, “Think he’s…you know-“

“No!” Harry and Hermione cried together, and promptly avoided each other’s eyes.

“Just hoping,” Ron mumbled and dug into his mashed potatoes.

They didn’t give Malfoy another thought the rest of the meal.

**

“Mr. Malfoy.” Severus Snape stood over the oblivious boy, calling him for the tenth time. The feast was long over and it was only after all the students had filed out that he noticed the Head Boy dozing blissfully at the table.

With an impatient sigh, he whipped out his wand. “Augmenti,” he muttered with a lazy flick and a stream of water shot out, drenching the blonde in a cold river.

Draco shot up, sputtering and gasping, his eyes wide.

“Wha-?” he coughed, and raised his eyes to meet the Potion Master’s glare.

“This, Mr. Malfoy, does not seem like a commendable way to make an impression,” Snape greeted in a cold voice that could have frozen Hell.

Draco shivered and slowly stood, realizing to his embarrassment that the Great Hall was empty and that he had probably neglected his Head Boy duties on the very first day.

“If you hadn’t been daydreaming, you would have been notified of the Head Boy quarters. But it seems you find it much more important to laze off during the Headmaster’s speech.” And he whirled on his feet. Draco hurriedly followed him, trying not to stumble in his wake.

Without a word, Snape led him through an unfamiliar passage, up a flight of spiraling stairs, and stopped in front of a large portrait of a lovely lady in a balcony.

“Belladonna, this is your new Head Boy,” Snape drawled and the way he stressed the last two words pricked Draco.

The lady in the portrait scrutinized him up and down, frowning slightly. “This? Did he go for a swim in the lake? Why is he wet?” she inquired in a high pitched scowl.

“Password, Belladonna,” Snape snapped and spun on his heel, leaving Draco to face the portrait alone.

“Let me make one thing clear before you step in boy, I like my quarters clean. You’re the Head Boy and must be presentable-“

“Just give me the password,” Draco cut in. He did not want a lecture from a portrait!

“Hmph! Manners might help as well,” she sniffed, “Your password is…’mannerless’.”

Draco blinked and shot her an angry glare when she swung open. He stumbled in and walked through a stone archway. The Common Room spanned out to greet him. Warm red and velvet green colors blended through the comfortable furnishings and rugs to unite both Houses. The Slytherin and Gryffindor banners hung on opposite walls. Two staircases, one under each banner, spiraled upwards to what Draco assumed must be his and the Head Girl’s rooms.

Not even in the mood to explore, Draco trudged up the stairs under his House banner and opened a silver-knobbed door. He didn’t even bother flicking on the lights nor changing out of his soaking clothes. Kicking off his shoes, he blindly flopped onto his bed and snuggling under the covers, promptly fell asleep.

**

“I beg you to reconsider, Headmaster,” Snape implored for the fifth time that day. He was in the Headmaster’s office again, here to make the old wizard see reason. “Draco Malfoy does not deserve this post, however much I wish a Slytherin to have the honor. I would rather choose a Hufflepuff than appoint a Malfoy!”

“Now, now, Severus,” Dumbledore gently replied, “Do not be so condescending of your own House.”

“This is not about my House!” he cried. “How could you? After all that that brat has done-to you no less! He cannot be trusted! He’s the most spoiled, insensitive little fool that was ever a Slytherin!”

Dumbledore let him fume and then raised his hand in polite silence.

“I am aware, Severus, of the extent of the boy’s crimes, but I am also aware of the circumstances that forced those deeds on him. If you remember, he did not succeed in taking my life-“

“He raised his wand against you-“

“Because there were four others pointed at him. Severus-,” Dumbledore pinned him with his blue gaze, “-the boy needs help. He has lost, perhaps, more than anyone else in the war.” Snape opened his mouth to argue, but Dumbledore cut in before he could.

“There are worse things to lose than your life or that of a loved one, Severus. Lucious, as you well know, is in Azkaban and he may very well receive the Kiss. Narcissa Malfoy, from what certain intelligence reported, has left the country. I doubt she will ever return again. Draco has been left to fight the demons alone-“

“But this does not explain why that boy should be bestowed with such an honor,” Snape evenly questioned.

But of course, Dumbledore had an answer ready. “To help him-,” he simply said, “-to redeem himself. Draco Malfoy has always harbored tremendous pride, although that pride was wrongly channeled. He is an intelligent boy, you witnessed it yourself in what he accomplished-“

“Letting Death Eaters into the castle to slaughter innocents is hardly considered an accomplishment. It’s murder-“

“I am sure he was aware of the consequences, even at that time,” Dumbledore quietly replied. “Guilt is a fickle friend, Severus. But I am only referring to the fact that he was able to manipulate the strong magic that surrounds the castle and restore a long lost vanishing cabinet to its original use. This is not something he was taught in school, as I’m sure you know.”

“Dark magic,” Snape muttered and Dumbledore nodded.

“The boy has enormous potential, but he needs guidance-the right kind of guidance. Otherwise, I am afraid we will lose him again and this time, I do not doubt he will be lost forever.”

They were silent for a time, before Snape said, “You wish me to watch over him.”

“If only as a figurehead,” Dumbledore replied. “You have watched over Harry all this time, but he has others in his life who embrace him. Draco Malfoy, you must have noticed, has not only incurred his House’s wrath, but his own family has disintegrated. I’m just afraid, Severus, that the boy will do something drastic.” He looked thoughtful then. “I am aware that I have made this mistake of neglecting him once and the consequences, as you saw, were brutal. He needed help then and he needs help now. I suppose, the wise thing would be to not tempt the Fates a second time.”

And Severus Snape bowed his head in silent defeat. “I suppose…”

Chapter Four

“Loneliness, the clearest of crystal insight into your own soul-it’s the fear of one's own self that haunts the lonely.”

-Keith Haynie

The rest of the week flew by in a fog for Draco. He established a painfully slow routine of waking up and battling the pain that flooded over him each morning before he dragged himself to the shower and spent a good half hour under the pain-numbing hot water.

In lectures, he was hard pressed to stay awake. More than once he fell asleep-in Potions of all classes -and earned a detention in Transfigurations. To top it off, there was talk of removing him from the Quidditch team. He wasn’t too shocked to hear the news, but he had held some hope that perhaps they would keep him because he made a quick Seeker.

That hope was quickly dashed when Blaise and Vaisey cornered him in the hallway one evening and told him not to bother trying out because the new Seeker had already been chosen. Secretly, Draco was glad he wouldn’t have to endure them on the pitch because with the way his body was right now, he doubted it would cooperate in anything that physical. He’d be lucky not to get clobbered by a bludger each time he took to air.

Granger and he continued to be distant. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since on the train and he hadn’t bothered seeking her attention. Whenever they were in the dorms together, she always locked herself in her room, shutting him out completely. Sometimes, he wished she would talk to him. It was lonely not having anyone to talk to.

But Draco would rather battle a dragon than admit he’d been a jerk and initiate conversation first.  He still had some pride left and he was damned to keep it. When he wasn’t fighting lethargy, nursing a terrible headache, or doing homework, Draco poured over the Prefect charts, taking care of his new duties. He had to keep tab of their daily patrols and arrange their schedules accordingly each week.

Sometimes, he had to supervise detention for the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and endure the whispers that followed him maliciously everywhere he went. He was just surprised he hadn’t been cursed or hexed yet.

By the end of the first week, it was very clear to Draco that no one-and he knew no one- ­gave a knut about him! He was completely and utterly alone and ‘friendless’ for the first time in his entire life. At first, it was very depressing and daunting.

 No one wanted to sit beside him in classes where they had to partner up. He had just taken to doing his Potions and Astronomy work alone. He wondered if he would die of embarrassment, but the more he spent time alone, the more he became used to the lonely void.

 He didn’t care anymore if people gawked at him, laughing behind his back. He didn’t care if his things went missing only to turn up in odd places, mangled and ruined. He didn’t care if he found cruel cartoons of his parents’ dead bodies and his own ashen face, marked with the Dark Mark under his seat. Draco Malfoy just didn’t care-he was already in too much pain for them to add more to.

The only people who remotely gave him space were, surprisingly enough, the Golden Trio, although he’d caught Weasley snickering about his torture once or twice. It wasn’t so bad. At least they didn’t initiate it-but neither did they do anything to stop it.

“Well, it’s not like they owe me anything,” Draco whispered aloud to himself as he sat one gloomy Saturday in the Common Room, his homework strewn across the low coffee table. It was a Hogsmead weekend and, having seen Granger disappear with her buddies this morning, he assumed she wouldn’t be back till late evening.

Draco returned his attention to his half done Arithmancy homework and poised his quill over the next question.

Calculate and analyze the characteristics of a Personality label five. What would you predict would be the Social numbers of this type?

Draco sighed and pulled Numerology and Grammatica into his lap, flipping through the heavy textbook till he came across a page he had marked heavily in red ink. He never liked number five. That was his number.

Squinting, he began to read the chapter for the fifth time. The waning light outside cast shadows on the creased pages. The words swam before his eyes. Frustrated, Draco rubbed his tired eyes and blinked several times before reverting back to the book.

It was no use. The words ran into each other, blending and mixing like blobs of black paint. He had to look away lest he make his headache worse. With an angry sigh, Draco snapped the book shut and chucked it on the floor, eliciting a loud thud.

The homework was due in two days and yet he couldn’t finish because he was having trouble bloody reading a textbook! He had read the book on his own twice before, yet he couldn’t seem to remember the information he’d already processed!

“Merlin I’m getting old,” he muttered, flopping onto the cushion and staring wistfully at the blurred ceiling.

His eyes fluttered momentarily before falling shut. These days, he never could stay awake for long.

**

Draco didn’t know for how long he slept, but it was late evening when voices reached him. He pushed himself up just as the portrait door swung open and, who else but the Golden Trio stomped in, laughing and talking loudly.

They froze when they saw him. Apparently he wasn’t expected to be around in his own dorm. Granger was the first to snap out.

“H-hello, Malfoy,” she nervously greeted as she unwound the long scarf around her neck.

Draco didn’t bother to reply. He was trying to make out their blurred faces.

“Well, I guess I’ll go change quickly and then we can have dinner,” she stammered to her friends, sending a pointed look to Ron who was more than displeased with the whole situation. He did not want to be alone with Ferret. He didn’t think he could keep his hands from strangling him if Malfoy dared provoke him.

Thankfully, Harry seemed to sense his mood and steered him to the fireplace where they awkwardly stood, waiting for Hermione to return. Draco, who had by now given up on seeing through the fog that was clouding his eyes, realized he wasn’t wanted.  He didn’t care for their company either, but he had to admit: not having spoken a word to anyone in six days was a bit depressing. He wondered whether he should throw some nasty comment just to get a reaction before dropping the idea. There was no way he could defend himself from Weasley’s windmill arms if the git decided to punch him.

No, he was better off retreating to his own room till they left. Draco laughed inwardly at his cowardice as he stood, not even bothering to clean his mess. He couldn’t believe that he of all people was avoiding a confrontation with Scarhead instead of instigating it. But then, he had never been alone. Crabbe and Goyle had always backed him up, although they wouldn’t have been much use to him if Potter had whipped out his wand.

Draco’s stomach sank at the thought of his ‘cronies’. He wouldn’t see them ever again. Neither had returned to Hogwarts and Draco suspected the worst for them. They had both been Death Eaters, having taken the Mark just after him. The last time he had seen them was in the midst of battle when he’d been trying to get away from the scorching fire.

Draco didn’t know how he’d survived the war. If anyone deserved death then, it should have been him. He sighed and shook his head, suddenly realizing that he’d been standing like an idiot all this time. He could feel the Gryffindors’ questioning eyes as he hastily made to retreat to his sanctuary.

Go before they think you’re a mental case, Draco, he chided himself as he neared the stairs. He was about to scamper up when he suddenly froze, hand on the rail.  A slow pain was creeping up his spine. His knuckles went white as the needlelike feeling reached a crescendo. With a gasp he sank to his knees, eyes screwed shut.

Behind him, Harry and Ron exchanged a startled glance. Should they help him?

When the blonde curled in on himself, whimpering in pain, Harry couldn’t ignore him anymore. Refusing to look Ron in the eyes, he marched straight towards his nemesis.

“Malfoy? Are you alright?” he asked, standing over him.

Draco didn’t answer-he couldn’t answer. The pain was too much! It was everywhere. His every joint, every muscle, every tendon ached and burned. He couldn’t move-couldn’t speak-couldn’t even think!

“Ron!” Harry cast his mate an exasperated look.

Ron hesitated for a moment, but then joined Harry, looking down at the curled up, tense blonde at their feet.

“Should we take him to the Hospital Wing?” he sheepishly asked, still not in the least inclined to help Draco.

Harry nodded, but was afraid to touch him. He remembered the night on the train, when Malfoy had cringed in pain at his touch. However much he wanted to pretend he didn’t care, he didn’t want to add to Malfoy’s agony. He couldn’t bear to do it a second time.

They were both debating how to get him to the Wing when Hermione caught their attention with a startled cry.

“Ron! You didn’t-!” she began, but Harry quickly cut her off before she launched herself at an unsuspecting Ron.

“We didn’t do anything Hermione!” he cried, holding up his palms. “He just-well-“

“The wimp just collapsed,” Ron explained.

Hermione was watching the blonde now too who hadn’t moved an inch since.

“He’s in pain,” she remarked. “We need to take him to Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry whipped out his wand, but before he could levitate him, Hermione blocked his wand with her hand.

“No, Harry! We can’t use magic on him.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t how he’ll react,” she snapped, “You’ll have to carry him.”

Ron frowned. “I’m not going to touch him!”

“Oh don’t be childish, Ron! He’s not poisonous-“

“He’s Malfoy, ‘Mione!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and was about to snap back, when Harry said, “I’ll do it.”

He bent down to scoop his nemesis up while Hermione beamed at him from behind. Ron only scowled. Malfoy wasn’t that heavy, but he was still a handful and it didn’t help that he tried to push Harry away, however weakly.

“I’m just going to drop you to the Hospital Wing, Malfoy,” Harry told him, panting a little from the effort as they walked out the portrait. “Stay put.”

But Draco didn’t want to stay put. Potter’s mere touch was sending sharp pain shooting through him, immobilizing him even though all he wanted to do was scream. He couldn’t stand this pain! Merlin, it felt as though his head was about to explode!

Distantly, he heard himself whimpering, a pitiable sound. He could vaguely make out Granger’s voice talking to him almost soothingly, although he had no idea what she was saying. He could feel Potter speeding up, clutching him tightly still.

The added pain sent Draco over the threshold and he knew no more.