Touch Starved

One month.

One month of living amongst non-threatening people and learning how to relax now that his life wasn’t constantly hanging by the feeble thread of an unstable dark wizard’s whim.

The first two weeks of school were a spotty blur. Any unexpected noise or a turn down a hallway that brought back memories would send his conscious mind scattering to the Manor. The length of time it took him to come back to his body depended on the trigger. Typically, it was just few hours which were then cured by a random touch from one of his friends or new housemates. He was gone for three days after coming across the ashes in the Room of Requirement. He hadn’t even been looking for it, it found him on his way back from class one morning, intentionally displaying the destruction within and huffing angrily at him with a puff of smoke.

The people and professors surrounding him had tried to talk to him but eventually faded away after two days of receiving no verbal responses from him. Sometimes he could see their faces flickering in and out of focus when they touched him, but they were gone again as soon as they realized he wasn’t there. He still ate and went to classes. His body was used to going through the motions for him when he was locked away, it was his second nature after all.

Draco sat on the couch in the common room long after everyone had retired on the third night of being sealed in his mental prison, hands placed on his thighs staring blankly at the coffee table in front of him. Wondering if he was even capable of escaping the Manor after being in it for so long. Wondering if he even wanted to now that there was a fire inside promising a small amount of controlled warmth.

He felt the cushion dip next to him.

A soft voice called out to him. He sensed a hand wedge itself underneath his and grip his fingers at the same time as a head fell lightly on his shoulder. The person didn’t say anything further, just sat there holding his hand. Could have been minutes or it could have been hours when he finally tumbled back into himself. He shivered, inhaling through his mouth sharply.

The head snapped up from his shoulder clipping the corner of his jaw in the process.

“Draco?!” A girl exclaimed both excitedly and full of worry. His heart skipped and he turned to face her.

Pansy. It was Pansy’s voice and her face.

He nodded and rubbed the side of his jaw where there was a whisper of pain blooming. And then he felt everything. The stiffness of his muscles and the gritty feeling in his eyes every time he blinked. The warmth of the room blasted through his body making him squirm. The material of his clothes scratched against his skin and Pansy’s hand tightly grasping his was becoming too much. He shook the girl off as if she were a pixie biting him.

“It worked.”

Her simple sentence had him pinning her with his eyes, silently demanding an explanation as he didn’t trust his voice yet. She must’ve understood the meaning behind his stare when she looked down and started picking at her nails in her lap. A trait he knew to mean she was embarrassed or nervous. Something she rarely ever showed, and he had only seen during her visits to Malfoy Manor before the fall of the Dark Lord. Draco narrowed his eyes.

“I… I wrote to your mother.” She said quietly, glancing up at him.

He pressed his lips together and turned his head looking out of the windows to the Black Lake.

“I’m sorry, Draco! I didn’t know what else to do and she told us to write her if anything happened to you.”

“Who?” His voice cracked and grated in the space between them. The sound grotesque and cringeworthy after three days of unuse.

“Blaise, Theo, and I. She owled us the night before we left for Hogwarts.”

He nodded, eyes still gazing out of the windows before looking at the bench with rumpled blankets. His mother had written to his friends. Had told them to look after him like he was a bloody child. Now he was the embarrassed one.

He turned back to Pansy, brain slowly catching up to what she had said shortly after he came to. “What worked?”

“Touch,” Pansy said looking down at her nails again, “she told me the way to bring you back was touch.”

“Do Blaise and Theo know about that as well?”

“No.”

Draco clenched his jaw, eyes boring into her trying to sus out if she was lying, and then he released a shaky exhale. He placed his hand over hers to stop her from drawing blood where she was pulling at the skin on one of her manicured fingers.

“I’d appreciate it if we kept that between us… I’d rather not have them, and everyone else because Theo can’t keep his god damn mouth shut, touching me.”

Pansy smirked at him. “Oh Draco, you know I love secrets.”

Her heavily sarcastic tone was back, signaling that their combined momentary gentleness was over.

Three more weeks went by. He was present for all of them. He didn’t slip away to the Manor as easily anymore, it didn’t take any effort if he wanted to be there, but it no longer sucked him in without his consent. It was always lurking in the back of his mind and waiting for him to return. Which he did every night before drifting off to sleep, checking on the damned fire that remained smoldering in the hearth.

He didn’t want to rely on Pansy, nor did he want her touching him all the time, so he did his best to find alternative ways to strengthen his control over his occlumency. He discovered and frequented the unused Prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. Taking scalding baths in an attempt to keep the chill at bay. He also found it easy to stay conscious when he focused on things outside of himself. Classes were too easy, they always had been, and he quickly got bored with the work.

So he began studying those around him instead, learning their patterns and mannerisms. It calmed him.

Neville was the easiest. A simple creature who thrived within habit. He woke at the same time every day except for Sundays, ate the same food at every meal, and loved conversation especially if it was about plants or Herbology. He was a gentle soul that had a spot of courage, usually coinciding with his moral compass which pointed due North in true Gryffindor fashion.

Luna was the complete opposite of her boyfriend. Unpredictable and airy. Draco had the feeling he would never be able to understand the girl or the things that came out of her mouth. She was sweet and innocent but he couldn’t help feeling on edge around her. She appeared to know things that everyone around her was oblivious to, she was a seer, and he didn’t want to be seen.

Susan Bones had started out as predictable, like Neville, but had intrigued him when she started showing signs of being a Healer. And not just a nurse or witch with an affinity for helping… a true Healer, a slightly more magical being that could heal and siphon pain out of people. They were extremely rare. She played the Piano beautifully and Theo made her nervous. The latter intrigued Draco.

The Weaslette was spicy. He was often shocked by her quick wit and quite a few times had to hide a smile when she bit back at one of his friends. He supposed she was alright despite her relation to her brother.

He had known his fellow Slytherins for years and didn’t really need to study them.

Daphne had always been obnoxious but had somehow found a way to elevate the level at which she annoyed him. The girl’s whining was endless and her presence here was pointless as her family played no significant role in the war. He was beginning to agree with Blaise that she was sent just to act as more punishment for them. Draco was convinced that Goyle had been born with four stomachs. He had also spawned into a vile human being after spending so much time with the Carrow's.

Pansy had developed two new habits: one for drawing and she was quite good at it, and the other was touching him discretely when she noticed him slipping occasionally. Blaise remained a loyal friend, just as Draco had remained loyal to keeping the Italian and his mother alive amongst the other Death Eaters. His friend was highly observant and quickly caught on to Pansy’s touch method but never brought it up or attempted it himself. He tended to just give a bob of his head or a raised brow inquiring if Draco was alright.

Theo was different. The darkness that Draco had noticed beneath his friend’s surface was a lot more than he initially expected. His suspicions grew and he began researching harder after Theo disappeared for one full day in September. The day that happened to be his mysterious friend’s birthday. He had found the vials in the bottom of Theo’s trunk and he spent the whole week after in the Potions lab trying to deconstruct it, but it was a temperamental brew and always ended up in disaster.

And then there was Hermione. The witch was driving him mad in more ways than one.

She wasn’t the girl he remembered, she was off somehow. Sometimes he could see the ghost of the girl that made him want to be better, the girl that had him wishing he could change sides, but those moments were far and few between. His skin would prickle as if being bitten by fire ants every time she looked at him.

Draco watched her try to make friends with those around her but she always ended up alone with one of her books. Her hair had lost its wildness over the years, now more of a controlled mess of curls and waves in place of the haystack it once was. She had filled out in some places but to him she looked skinny, not unhealthy, just thinner than he had pictured in his mind the past few months. Her eyes weren’t as bright and she wasn’t fighting to prove her worth anymore. She was the Golden Girl who had lost her color. He hated it.

His friends noticed him studying her, asked him questions disguised behind jokes, but they quickly realized it made him withdraw to the Manor and they ceased their prodding.

Eventually, they started to see it too. Blaise first, as he was the attentive one, commented on how quiet she had become and how classes had been different without her blurting out the answers. 'It just seems wrong' he had said. Pansy followed, noticing how little she ate, and when Granger didn’t come down for breakfast one morning she let slip that the girl had nightmares occasionally. Draco’s stomach turned and he almost retched at the memory of his aunt carving into her as she laid screaming in his foyer.

But it was Theo who had really surprised him as they sat in the common room late one Friday night.

“She’s broken.” His friend said to no one in particular, they hadn’t even been talking, just enjoying the quiet crackling from the fire in front of them as they wound down from the week. “Potter and Weasley, they broke her.”

“How do you mean, Theo?” Pansy probed, her voice becoming slightly protective.

The room got cold, Draco seemed to be the only one who noticed the shift, it wasn’t his cold. His Manor started to press against the back of his mind in warning. Draco slid his gaze to Theo’s and watched as the boy’s eyes grew shadowy and sinister. The darkness within reaching toward the surface.

“They used her. Used her for her mind and then they left her alone when she needed them to be strong for her. She’s lost… she doesn’t know who she is.”  

He knew what it was like to be lost.

Blaise’s knuckle popped. Pansy was frowning in sadness but her eyes were swirling with fury which was no doubt matching the look in his own eyes. Theo shook his head in disgust and then he was back to normal… along with the temperature of the room. Draco would have found that interesting if he wasn’t distracted by the topic of conversation.

His eyebrows pulled down as he tried and failed to rationalize when and why he and his friends started becoming worried about the girl that sat curled into herself on her bench by the windows. They girl they used to bully. His stomach clenched again remembering the things they used to say to her on a daily basis.

“Maybe it’s time for Granger to get some better friends.” Pansy remarked evenly as she dove back into her current sketch.

“Define ‘better friends’, Pans.” Blaise lifted a brow. The bloke had read between the lines but wanted her to confirm out loud.

Pansy whirled her charcoaled hand in a circle gesturing to the four of them without taking her eyes off her artwork, “Us of course.”

Blaise sighed while weighing his next words, leaning back into the sofa. “We’ll have to take in the Weasley too, pretty sure they’re a package deal.”

Draco stayed silent as his friends held an impromptu tribunal on whether or not to link up with the pair, almost as if they were talking about bringing home stray cats. His eyes fell to the girl on the bench by the window who had inspired the vote, sleeping in an awkward position with a book across her chest. His hand ached to brush the hair from her face. He clenched it on the armrest instead.

“Oh, I like her, she’s fiery!”

“Helpless flirt,” Pansy mumbled before giving their friend a pointed look, “you’re not to touch either of them, Theo.”

The easy grin fell from Theo’s face, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but he snapped them shut and glanced up toward the empty piano bench. Draco was the only one that noticed as Pansy had already swung her glare in Blaise’s direction.

“You too. Hands off.”

Blaise put two fingers to his head and sent them through the air in a salute before attempting to lighten the mood with a joke. “When did you become so matronly.”

“We all have our own stories from the war,” Pansy muttered eerily and three of them went still at her words, “that is one I do not wish to share. Good night, boys.”

Draco winced, recalling how Fenrir cornered her during one of her father’s visits to Malfoy Manor. He watched through occluded glacial eyes as the beast inched out of the drawing room where the meeting was being held. He followed, ignoring his father’s stony warning look and found Pansy pinned in an alcove, face to the side and eyes pressed shut as Greyback sniffed greedily at her neck. The deathly green curse sparked out of his wand without hesitation.

His aunt was very happy when he slipped back into the room and notified her that he’d killed someone who offended him in his own home. Bellatrix had praised him and took care of the body. He listened to Pansy as she sobbed all night in safety of his ensuite bathroom. They never spoke of it again.

Theo and Blaise bid her good night sullenly. Draco extended his pointer finger from the chair’s arm, brushing against the back of her hand as she passed. She gave him a small and barely noticeable nod in thanks for his gesture. She knew what touch meant to him and she understood what he was trying to convey without words.

They watched Pansy enter the girl’s dorm, sending Ginny out moments later to shake Hermione awake and drag her to bed.

“Fucking hell.” Theo exclaimed when all the girls had finally left the room and it was just them.

“So much for our sanity.”

“I need to take a walk.” Theo said with zero emotion and was out of the room before he or Blaise had time to respond.

Blaise turned to him, “Is this going to be a problem for you?”

Draco knew what he was asking. The only problem was, he didn’t have any fucking clue on how to respond. If he said yes, then he was admitting to something. If he said no, then he would be lying.

“Draco.”

He looked up at Blaise who was now standing.

“I can’t worry about all three, soon to be five, of you. Just trying to figure out how much damage control I need to plan for, mate. Will being close to her end badly... for either of you?”

He shrugged, eyes beginning to glaze over as he leaned against the glowing fireplace in his Manor.

“Merlin’s sack.” Blaise groaned and shuffled toward their bedroom while mumbling something about going mental and ending up at Mungo’s before the year was out.

Theo stumbled in hours later sporting a lazy smile. Draco wrinkled his nose at the offending smell of herbs when his friend plucked him up by the collar of his robes.

“We need sleep.”

Draco pulled out of his hold halfway to the bedroom but remained following him. He did need sleep but he knew he wasn’t going to get any. Things were going to change and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

The next day he was drowning in his thoughts, actively dismissing Daphne’s ignorant statements about pure bloods, when it happened.

“That’s quite an interesting statement coming from someone who currently holds zero magical significance in the world.”

Hermione’s snippy voice wrapped around him and bewitched his body. His hand and teacup stopped just short of his mouth while his eyes drank her in. There she was; the spirited girl he remembered her to be. She bit her lip and her cheeks colored. Oh, fuck. Blood rushed south and he shifted discretely to adjust the sudden tightness of his trousers. That part of him hadn’t spontaneously come alive in over a year.

Blaise was choking, Daphne was on the verge of exploding, Pansy laughed proudly, and Theo waltzed in having missed it all.

And just as quick as it came, the fierce light left her, she stood swaying. Draco’s heart went to his throat as she gripped the wall to steady herself. He could feel the wariness wafting off his friends in waves.

“Hermione Jean Granger, please tell me why it is four-thirty in the afternoon and you have not eaten yet.” Weasley scolded.

His heart dropped back down and his blood began to boil when she didn’t answer the redhead.

“You haven’t eaten?” The sharp words spilled from his mouth before he had time to swallow them down.

When she shook her head in response the teacup saucer in his left hand cracked. Draco’s erection deflated as he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to shake her or spank her for her recklessness.

Theo jumped up exclaiming something about getting her fed and they all got to their feet. He was grateful for his friend’s easy-going attitude in that moment as he would have handled the situation in an entirely different way. One that, as Blaise would have put it, ‘ended badly’. 

Pansy and Ginny were chattering away as if they had been friends for ages with Granger sandwiched in between them. He walked a few paces behind them with a tight jaw and clenched fists in his pockets, Blaise keeping step beside him and Theo practically skipping behind them.

“On a scale from one to ten, one being occluded and ten being Death Eater Draco, where are we currently?”

Draco offered him a menacing glare.

“Joy.”

“At least Death Eater Draco has a personality and talks.” Theo commented as they sat down at the far end of a table the group of eighth years had claimed as their own at some point. “Much preferred to the Ice King.” He continued around a bite of food.

Draco felt alive, his long-suppressed character and magic leaking through the melted ice walls of the Manor's fireplace and buzzing in his veins again.

“He’s going to do a lot more than talk, mate.” Blaise cautioned while bringing a goblet of pumpkin juice to his mouth.

Draco glanced a few spots down where Hermione was taking bites of food between giggles as she listened to Ginny and Pansy bicker merrily.

Draco Malfoy was back, and he had a new mission.