Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Friday had crept closer far quicker than Astraea had both expected and been prepared for. She’d never believed time to be the mocking or malevolent sort, but since her fate was decided, she had found it her greatest tormentor. A strangely bereft feeling had settled in her at that, saddened at how the Equinox seemed to bleed into everything she loved and unravel it.
The ticking inside her head hadn't grown louder, but perhaps was now more prominent, and despite her attempts to contain it, she slipped deeper and deeper into dread and fear. Leaving everything behind was no easy feat, especially in favour of a place and time which were foreign and unknown to her. A place she neither chose, nor pled any fealty to. Irony it seemed, though, was the most sadistic of all, for the sole purpose of her visit was out of loyalty to the world she lived amongst.
The bed reverberated slightly as Draco shuffled closer to her. It was perhaps slightly too small for the both of them, given Draco's tall and broad frame. Quidditch had ensured he built lean muscle, and the forthcoming doom had required him to train in both magical and physical combat – particularly after his deviation from his family’s dark path. In spite of that, the tight space had become something of a safe haven for the two, and Astraea revelled in the pooling of green silk sheets around them as the love of her life pulled her towards him.
She felt herself succumb to the relaxation that his long, sculpted arms brought and sighed quietly as he ran circles across her shoulder.
“It's your birthday today,” his sleep-laboured voice mumbled into her ear, warm breath fanning across her bare neck.
She nodded against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood cologne, which blended with his own unique musk. It quickly became a heady mix of old parchment, green apple and petrichor, and Astraea wondered if she'd ever be able to hold onto that scent when she left. Perhaps she could configure some variant of it in potions or trap his scent magically into an item of clothing that she could steal away with her.
Her mind grew weary. Today would be the last of her time in this life and would contain her last moments with him. To think of a life without him made her heart feel like it was fracturing, butchered by a blade so deep she doubted she'd ever recover.
He had been her only escape when at times she’d felt herself drowning. When her parents had died, he’d been there, enveloping her in a comforting blanket of love she thought she’d never have again. When she’d been eleven and broken her ankle falling down his manor stairs, he’d been the one to whisper episkey. After her parents informed her of their family burden, he’d been the one to promise her a world without danger, where she’d never need use such torturous magic.
Without him, she wasn’t sure she’d be herself again. She swallowed, desperately attempting to qualm the painful lump that had built in her throat.
“Yeah,” she whispered, scared if she spoke any louder it would break the illusion, “It is.”
She shifted backward, tilting her head up to take in Draco's face. His skin glowed golden as the sun danced over it, waltzing from his cheekbones down to his jaw, before twirling up his nose and across his forehead. His grey eyes looked down at her softly, icy shards twinkling in the sunlight.
An arresting smile had overtaken his face; loving and gentle. It was the smile she loved best splattered across his cheeks, where his teeth were just visible, and his eyes crinkled at their corners. She could pick out each of his emotions in that one, simple expression. His love. His gentle happiness laced with a slightest worry. His buried fear. All on display for her.
She ran her thumb across his cheek, feeling the smooth, delicate skin beneath her thumb. Humanity was strangely delicate for all their threats of war. Skin could be broken at the slightest scratch, heart shattered by the faintest implication of infidelity.
"I'm glad you’re happier now. You deserve it," she gently lay a kiss on his lips.
The blonde’s smile grew warm, as he rested a large, un-calloused hand in the crook of her neck. It had the ability to engulf her shoulder, and she found herself amused at the thought.
She might never have that hand upon her shoulder ever again.
A shaky sigh erupted from her, and as if she bore her entire soul through her eyes, a bittersweet look planted itself on his face. It was wistful, nostalgic for something which hadn’t occurred to them yet. As if he had read their fate in the stars and committed it to memory, only to now realise the end of their constellation was near, a supernova somewhere not far away.
He reached up gently, hands cupping both her cheeks with resignation.
"You've decided."
His voice was soft and low. It was a half-hearted sound she'd never hoped would come from him, and she felt her chest tighten. He sounded broken, like a drooping Chrysanthemum trampled by one too many. Astraea suddenly felt very weak.
"You're going," he finished bluntly, an edge to his tone. It wasn’t embittered, nor angry, merely saddened. She thought that might have been worse.
She could only nod faintly, her face contorted in sorrow.
"You know I have to. All the lives I could save... it's the only way to be truly free from this war, Draco," she winced, "The suffering. The death. All of it.”
He nodded bleakly and a sad smile etched into his pale face. He knew as well as she did, that there was no real way to end the reign of Voldemort. Not unless they went back to the source. By the time they figured out a way to eradicate him and his army, too many lives would have been claimed for people to move on. To live without the fear and terror that encompassed his actions. And there was no real way to confirm that Harry would win. Nobody even knew they were still alive. No owls, no contact, nothing.
This was the only way Astraea could be certain it would end.
"I'll always love you. This version of me...," Draco trailed off, a fiery passion sparking into his eyes as he found the right words, "It will always belong to you. And I have no doubt I'll love you in that reality too."
Although the chances of that were slim, she nodded briefly, biting her lip in an attempt to slow the torrent of tears that threatened to leak out between her eyelids. A frown made its way upon his face as he pulled her closer, her head burying itself into his chest.
A steady stream of saltwater soaked steadily into porcelain skin.
The blonde tried to memorise his warmth, wanting to steal the heat emanating from his chest and burn it into her memory. It bled into her cool skin, another unwitting victim to her presence. She tried to convince herself that she'd ever be able to replicate the experience ever again.
A feeling had bloomed in her gut, raging through her body with every breath. Astraea struggled to breath as she felt it claim her throat as its own, ripping through her muscles until they were weak and sore. It was violent and comforting, aggressive and calm; a faultless messenger from a war it had no true part in, stuffed in a uniform and prodded out to battle. Still, it was lethal, and it stole away the meagre slips of air in her lungs without reluctance.
"I'll miss you," she stifled out, a frequent chain of hitches corrupting the sentence, "Everyday I’m there, your absence will hollow me. Even when you can't remember any of this."
She felt his body tense.
"I know."
She pulled away to face him, a slow trail of water falling onto his cheeks as he stared down at her with saddened eyes. He grimaced, perfectly mirroring the harrowing sorrow she felt internally.
"For now, let's hold onto this version of us for as long as we can," he continued, his breath a mere whisper.
Their lips met in a slow and tender embrace, and Astraea savoured the gentle taste of green apples and toothpaste. Somehow the poignant formulation was no match for the excessive number of apples he consumed, and she oddly loved it. A minute smile took a hold of her, and she moved her lips against his again before he pulled away, entangling her hand in his.
"Let’s forget about this war for one day. We can face the consequences tomorrow," he murmured, an intense affection irradiating from him to her.
It settled in her like the sparks of a bonfire did the ground, and she smiled through blurry eyes, reaching out for his lips once more with her own. They collided in a leisurely display of love, and when she pulled away, she felt speechless, her mind overridden with the sensation.
Her head rested against his, and she smiled, catching her breath.
"Until tomorrow, my love," she responded, breathing in the moment around her.
It was not until thirty minutes later that she reached for a vial she'd kept by the side of the bed, courtesy of Luna. She allowed the vial to fill with tears, seventeen years of memories seeping into the glass.
Iridescent liquid swirled inside, shimmering as it attempted to escape the borosilicate through light alone. Carefully, she slipped the capped vial into her bag. It was a midnight-blue and something Hermione had given her. Stars covered the external velvet casing.
Astraea hoped she might one day view the memories. Perhaps not immediately, but maybe when her new life was happy, and she felt fulfilled. Maybe then she could live a life she'd once owned.
Maybe then she could be with a Draco she'd once known. A Draco she'd once loved.
A Draco that no longer existed.