From Now On
T.A 3001
The elves had been interested in his magic, being able to mend fractured bones and sprained ankles at a swish of his wand, it was absolutely perfect for fast recovery.
He had told them it was only for minor injuries, but they were still interested all the same, and thus, he had shared some of the potions with the healers, trying to come up with replacements for the ingredients that they didn’t have here. It took time and effort, lots of trips to the library and experimenting with various plants, but everyone was willing to give it a shot.
They had been successful in only a handful of potions, Draco had cheated and emphasised importance in the sleeping draught and dreamless sleep potion because he was sure he needed them to keep the nightmares at bay, but it was success all the same.
He had been allowed to leave the healing chambers and given his own room and invitation to learn anything he wanted from the elves, he was very welcomed. And for the first time in a very long time since the dark lord came back, he felt happy and at ease. There was no dark lord behind his back watching his every step, no impossible mission that he was forced to do in order to save his family, no need to keep up the face of hate and maliciousness to keep himself safe from the other death eaters’ crucio, he could walk without keeping his ears open for attacks from every side, he could cry from how safe he was here.
But at night when the joy and cheer of the elves were just a faint whisper on the back of his mind and the darkness he had harboured for years comes back to the forefront of his mind, he feels the phantom burn of the dark mark like the dark lord was calling for him, like he could reach him even here, in another world, like he had no escape from him.
He often had nightmares, waking just before he started screaming with a thin sheet of sweat over his body, then he’d go to the bathing chambers in the middle of the night and draw a bath and soak it in, then he would scrub his skin until it turned pink, shifting his focus on the pain away from the mark on his left forearm to other places, willing himself to forget red eyes and a pale noseless face cackling as others writhed in pain before him and the Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!, then he would stay in the bath with his knees huddled against his chest and fingernails digging crescent shapes into his legs with the force he grips them. When his skin starts wrinkling he gets out and clears the bath, then he would walk in the gardens under the moonlight and go back to his room before the earliest elves woke.
Alas he couldn’t hope to keep his night terrors to himself. One morning he was woken up by his own hoarse screams, a hand was on his neck and another on his cheek, a voice was calling out to him.
He flinched out of the hands, “No! Please! Please not them!” He scrambled back on the bed hands flailing wildly as his eyes went wide with desperation.
“Hush now, calm Draco calm.” Elrond gently placed his palm on the boy’s forehead and sent pulse after pulse of healing magic, until the boy’s wide frantic eyes slackened and the grip on the blankets softened.
Draco was shaking, he shut his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, “Sorry…”, he murmured to the elf-lord sitting on the bed beside him.
“There is nothing to forgive pen-neth.” Lord Elrond soothed his hand down Draco’s cheek, not caring of the sweat that stuck to his skin, he knew from experience that nightmares needed to be soothed with warm words and caring touches.
“Come, I will draw you a flower bath to sooth your mind.” Draco’s hand shot out to the healer’s for a split second of contact before he pulled his hand back, apologising for the untoward action.
Elrond smiled reassuringly at the boy and took his hand, “I have had three elflings, there is nothing to apologise for.”
Draco nodded and let himself be led the way that he had walked so many times alone to the bathing chambers. He watched as the Lord filled the bath with water and flower oil, then flower petals were dropped in.
“I will leave you to bath. Join me in breaking fast in the feasting hall when you are done, I have news of something you may like.” The lord smiled at Draco before leaving the boy to the silence of the bathing rooms.
As Draco steeped in the water filled with fragrance of flowers, he shuddered at what he had done. He had shown vulnerability again, screamed words that were never meant for the Elf Lord, trembled like a leaf in the wind and latched onto the closest compassion.
He was a Malfoy, Malfoy’s were strong, powerful, definitely not a miserable pile of crying nightmares. If his father could see him now, he would tell him to suck it up and take it like a Malfoy.
But his father wasn’t here, he would never be here. Draco could feel the tears well up underneath his eyes, he let them fall, he was allowed to grieve his parents, and he was alone.