Telling someone
Draco sat at the Malfoy Manor long table, the ones where the meetings were held. He succeeded in getting the Vanishing Cabinet to work only weeks ago, and he felt dread, and bile rise up in his throat.
He remembered the disappointment and the hatred in Harry’s eyes. His soulmate. He was supposed to have his happy ending, he was supposed to love his soulmate and to be loved by his soulmate. He knew that was no longer an option. The constant bullying over the years hadn’t helped surely, but to prove everyone that Harry was right in his accusations of him being a Death Eater?
Fantastic.
He felt a mind-numbing pain when the Golden Trio split before Harry could actually get captured. His heart panged at the thought, obviously distraught and worried for Harry. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about Harry, but he wasn’t all that surprised it happened.
He obsessed over Harry for years, wanted to be his friend and lashed out at anyone and everyone who got in the way of his anger towards the rejection. He always tried to get his attention, acting a certain way to prove he was superior, but also to prove he was worth looking at. Negative or positive, it didn’t matter.
Draco felt his whole world crashing down.
He hadn’t wanted to do the task, hadn’t wanted to fix what was broken or kill Dumbledore, he just didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, he wanted to prove himself for himself and, maybe for Harry, too. That was thrown out the window when Snape intervened, and Harry was just below them. It meant Harry saw; it meant Harry hated him.
When that look was directed at the Slytherin, Draco felt even sicker. Harry’s voice raw with pain, disbelief, with every accusation thrown at Draco proved right, he couldn’t stand it. Draco kept walking as Snape dealt with Harry, his mind a mess, his breathing jumbled and his palms sweaty. He should’ve gone back and stopped Snape, tried to explain it to Harry, anything but taking the cowards way out and running.
He was good at that.
“Draco, Darling, are you alright?” Narcissa’s soft and motherly voice rang out.
Draco looked away from the empty glass he was nursing. His fingers pinching it more, he was sure he left prints or a crack. His heart was ridiculously loud in his chest, and his mother knew something was wrong. Narcissa’s eyes softened and her brows furrowed, she slipped into the chair next to him, her hand going over his. Draco looked back into her eyes, lips pressing in a thin line.
How was he supposed to tell her? He couldn’t have his mother looking at him any differently, he couldn't handle that. Not after everything. He could rely on her to be his mother, he couldn’t rely on her if he saw who he truly was.
A sorry excuse of a son. A disgusting young man. A wretched Death Eater. An unrecognizable person.
“Draco, please.” She coaxed gently. “You’ve been staring at your glass for ages. Your eyes… let me hold your burdens, as your mother and guardian.”
It was true, Draco had been staring off for who knows how long. Probably whenever the meeting ended and everyone left, including the Dark Lord, it gave Draco some much needed alone time. Not after he couldn’t get his body to get up and go to his room.
“I…” Draco took a shaky breath, lips trembling as he looked away from Narcissa. “I met my soulmate.” He admitted, “Or… at least figured out who.”
Narcissa went quiet, her eyes softening more. Her heart hurt for her son’s heart. By his tense posture, she knew it wasn’t good, that Draco deemed he wouldn’t be able to fix it. She knew her son like the back of her hand and wished she could take everything bad and throw it at Voldemort instead. He did this to Draco. She hated him for doing that to Draco.
“And?” She merely asked.
A simple word, a simple question, but it was complicated. Draco had no idea how to explain it, there was so much going on. He didn’t even know where Harry was, and he shouldn’t even think about that. Harry could move on so easily and find someone else to be with, to keep his bloodline going. Draco couldn’t do that. He couldn’t be the man anyone would want.
Just because it was written as them being soulmates didn’t mean they were destined to be together.
“Gryffindor.” He finally spoke, not wanting to out Harry when even he wasn’t sure himself. “A self-righteous Gryffindor who knows I’m a Death Eater.” He sneered, almost throwing the glass in his hands, but held back.
If he did, his outburst would surely catch his father’s attention, and he couldn’t deal with that. He felt his family was falling apart, they didn’t need to know just how badly he fucked up with his soulmate, and not just from a bad impression. This would ruin their family name even more and he couldn't do that to his father. Couldn’t ruin him more.
Narcissa squeezed Draco’s hand, “Soulmate for a reason.” She whispered so quietly, like someone would hear them. “You were forced into this; I was powerless to stop him. This is not on you.”
‘Everything else is.” Draco couldn’t fight the boyish tremble.
He wished he was eleven again, when times were simpler, when he was excited to be friends with Harry Potter. When he was told to be friends with Harry Potter and couldn’t mess it up, and he did that in the first five seconds of knowing the scarred boy. Back then he didn’t need to worry about anything, back then he could be snobby Draco Malfoy without the repercussions.
He just wanted to be small and young again. Free to be who he wanted and let everyone know he was a Malfoy. He wished him to be a bully was the only terrible thing Hogwarts was going through. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sob in his mother’s lap like he was a child again, but he couldn’t. He had no right.
Here, he was a shell of who he used to be, but even then, he didn’t know how far that shell ran. He could just be the same and actually have no personality. Who knows anymore.
“Draco, you are young, and you are intelligent. You have such good qualities; you can make it up. You have all the time in the world to prove yourself, you’ve just been sent into… something unwillingly.”
Those words did not comfort Draco. It was all too much for him, but not enough. He let the glass go, trying to be gentle, but his hands shook. The glass almost shattered, but thankfully it just clattered around the table. His nose twitched and then scrunched, eyes beginning to un-focus as everything was blurry. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he just looked like he was staring into a void.
“No.” He whispered, voice cracking, “You're wrong, mother. I can’t fix this; I won’t be able to.” He stood up, fingers clenching the table for some grounding. The chair scraped against the wood of the floor, but he hadn’t heard. Nor did he hear Narcissa calling his name or feeling her gentle hand on his face. “That stupid Gryffindor! Why did it have to be him?!”
Narcissa flinched at the anguish and anger in his voice. She hadn’t cared for Draco’s soulmate being a male, but it was all too much at the same time. She couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from if Draco didn’t tell her, but he seemed trapped. He couldn’t hear a single thing, and it was getting hard to gather his attention as he was having a breakdown.
Tears welled into Draco’s bluish-gray eyes, “You didn’t see the hatred. Who could blame him, really? Draco Malfoy, son of a known Death Eater, now one himself!” He waved his hand like he was envisioning the words engraved in front of him. He started to pace the room, heart still pounding in every fiber of his being. “Self-righteous Gryffindor, always having the attention. No one would ever be good enough for him, let alone me.”
Narcissa was walking alongside him, she couldn’t get him to stop moving, but he didn’t have to be alone. Draco looked so young and so lost. Her son, this was her son, and she was powerless. She felt like she failed in so many ways, but she could make up for it. She’ll do whatever she can to save her son, to make sure her son is happy. For now, she’ll listen to his rant, to his heartache, to his expressions.
She will not fail Draco again.
“His stupid hair and eyes. How easily everyone gravitated to him, and he rejected me for a friendship. Me! You know what I did? Bullied. Bullied him and his friends. I can’t come back from something like that, not when this-” He frantically waved his hand over his mark, “is the cherry on top. And he has to go be a hero! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Potter-”
Draco’s words died in his throat as he snapped back into reality. His voice no longer held that anger for himself, but a fear when he accidentally said ‘Potter’ out loud. He was pushing it by referring to him, but he shouldn’t have said his name, it slipped.
Draco’s eyes were wide, he looked at his mother who was stunned and frozen. He couldn’t take it anymore. His vision was blurry once more, the walls closed in on him and he couldn’t breathe. He started moving, legs trembling and eyes searching for anything but seeing nothing. His ears were now ringing, he shoved off the gentle hand, he couldn’t take it.
He couldn’t take it.
He couldn’t take it.
He couldn’t take it.
He couldn’t breathe.
****~****
Harry hadn’t wanted his friends to join him on his mission, but they insisted. They wouldn’t allow him to be such an idiot and wander off on his own, not without help and not without backup. They’ve been together since their first year, they will not be splitting up now. They needed each other more than ever.
Even with how strained it was between the three right now.
Ron was wearing the Horcrux more than Hermione and Harry, his fingers twitchy and body antsy. All of his negative feelings began to fester up and bubble in his chest. He hadn’t actually wanted to feel this way, but it was hard. The more the stupid necklace was around his neck, the more he glared at his two closest friends.
He dragged himself out of the makeshift bed and out of the tent. His anger coursed through him more when he noticed Harry and Hermione walking back towards the tent. Quite close and quietly whispering to one another. It seemed they were almost caught, but easily avoided that scenario by Hermione covering her mouth and nose, Ron didn’t know that. All he saw was Harry close to his girlfriend, his soulmate. Ron merely walked back into the tent.
So, when things escalated, Ron snapped. An argument that festered up from his bridle rage, Hermione had to get into the middle of it to stop them. Ron’s last words had something to do with Harry’s parents, but it was all foggy to Ron. He tore the Horcrux off and stormed away, leaving a hurt Harry and a broken-hearted Hermione. They were only able to hold each other in peaceful silence, bringing their pain together.
“Harry,” Hermione whispered into the night as they laid down on the floor next to each other. Harry hummed to let her know he was listening. “Are you alright?” She questioned, “You’ve been off for months now.”
Her and Ron only assumed it had to do with trying to catch Draco as a Death Eater, and they thought he would be better now that they were away from that. Now that he was proven right, but that didn’t happen. It seemed Harry got worse; it seemed Harry grew more lost in thought than ever before.
Harry tilted his head to the side, eyes on Hermione. He hadn’t let it slip he saw color, or that he found his soulmate, he acted neutral and bleak as usual. He acted the same, at least he thought he did a good job at acting the same, it seems Hermione picked up on it. Maybe she told Ron, but Ron wasn’t here asking or hearing.
“I…” Harry sat up, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. He looked at the flap of the giant tent, seeing it move slightly from the gentle night breeze. “I met my soulmate.”
Hermione gasped, sitting up and smiling widely. “Harry! That’s amazing!” She said, almost squealing.
It was a stark contrast to their earlier mood. A saddened tone lingered over them as they danced, a piece of them missing in Ron. Harry more so than ever now that he couldn’t share these dark times with his soulmate.
Harry always dreamed of being held by his soulmate. That he didn’t have to be so alone in such dreadful times like this. That his soulmate would be on his side, for him personally and for the war. That Harry could love and get to know his soulmate freely. He can’t get that with Draco. Whatsoever.
“Yeah…” Harry sighed out, slumping his shoulders. “Amazing.”
The reluctant tone sent Hermione on edge. When she found out Ron was her soulmate, she was a bit confused about that, but slowly over time they grew. Ron and Hermione had been inseparable, and they realized why they were soulmates. Despite being opposites, they were much the same in many different aspects. They mellowed each other out and matched the other.
Harry thought they were cute together.
Hermione always wanted to say that about Harry’s soulmate. She was waiting for the day, she wanted to be there and support Harry no matter who was his soulmate. There had been some questionable girls after the Chosen One, so Hermione would probably have to learn to tolerate Harry’s soulmate, but she would do it.
“Why don’t you sound happy? Knowing your soulmate is a big deal. Defines the future of how we act-”
“Hermione, please.” Harry sighed out, covering his face, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Hermione bit her lower lip, no matter how badly she wanted to ask and push. Harry wasn’t in the right mindset anyways for a soulmate, not until this war was done for, not until Voldemort was done for and Harry was safe. Who knew if that was actually going to happen.
“I’m tired, we have a long journey ahead of us.” Harry said, getting off the floor and going into his bed.
He just couldn’t tell her, not when he hadn't accepted it. Not when he couldn’t wrap his head around it either, this was all too much or Draco being his soulmate was almost… dreadful. There were so many things wrong with that, with Harry, with Draco. They couldn’t be soulmates, the Universe had to be wrong, had to have delayed a different person as their soulmates.
“Goodnight, Harry.” Hermione sighed, getting into her own bed.
Harry faced the wall of the tent, pulling the blanket up over his mouth and nose. “Night ‘Mione.” He whispered back, closing his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t sleep again.
Too many things on his mind and not enough time to say it or think about it.
By morning, Harry looked terrible. His burdens weighed him down more and his shoulders were still slumped. Everything was just beating him down and wanting him to just drop and never get back up. He had a job to do, though, so he was going to do it. He will not rest until he’s defeated Voldemort. He will not rest until the Wizarding world and the muggle world is okay.
Days passed by with relative ease, Ron showed back up. Apologizing and destroying the Horcrux with the sword he got from the cold water. Harry was more than thankful to see his best friend, the burden seemed only a bit lighter. He was just still so alone; he couldn’t take seeing Hermione and Ron feel complete and act all lovey dovey when he can’t accept his own soulmate.
He hasn’t even told Ron yet that he found his soulmate, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it a second time. Not without proper rest at least. Maybe, maybe, things can change after the war and he can speak to Draco on a different level, but who knows.
They heard the twitching of leaves, branches cracking and footsteps after them. They started running, Hermione would glance back and fire a spell at their followers, she was always better at that than the other two. Ron and Harry fought back too, but they were more focused on not tripping over their own feet as they ran. It wasn’t flat ground.
It didn’t take long for their pursuers to catch up, Hermione acted on instinct, grabbing her wand and casting a spell. The spell hit Harry square in the face and changed his appearance, making him look swollen and ugly. His lightning scar was still visible, so she hoped they wouldn’t put two and two together. They didn’t look like the brightest bunch anyways.
They didn’t know how far they were going, their feet dragging across the ground as they stumbled with each step. Just because these wizards were dumb, wrong and bad didn’t mean they had to drag the three to wherever they were going.
Hermione kept a close eye on Harry, every now and then to not be inconspicuous. She didn’t want them catching on it was actually Harry, but she had to make sure the spell didn’t wear off. She rolled her eyes when some of the Death Eaters were talking, laughing about how they possibly caught Harry Potter.
They were sure to get on the Dark Lord’s good side.
They finally made it to a large mansion, and a woman met them at the gate. She had the messiest curly black hair, a wicked dirty grin with almost rotting teeth, eyes wide and she looked intimidating. She laughed, which was more of a cackle that had Hermione shivering.
A Death Eater dragged Harry to the front, gripping his shoulder like he had claws. He lifted his hair up, showing the lightning scar that was almost a squiggle due to the spell, but still. Bellatrix grinned, and the next words she spoke made Harry tense unbelievably.
“Go get Draco.” She opened the gate.