Across any Divide

Chapter 4

"Hey, mate," Blaise Zabini knocked on Draco's door, pushing it open and waiting at the threshold. "Mind if I come in?"

Draco looked up from the book on advanced Transfiguration he was reading, giving Blaise a bored look. "You already are."

Blaise took that as acceptance, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment, clearly debating on saying something. Draco watched him for a moment before turning back to his book, "If you've got something to say, Zabini, spit it out."

"Remember the night?"

Draco glanced up, the tone in Zabini's voice indicating that he was referring to a bad night they had shared. "You'll have to be more specific than that."

"The night we took our marks."

Draco winced, his left arm twitching instinctively. How could he not remember that night? It haunted his dreams, his waking hours, and every moment in between. The moment his fate after the war had been sealed, the stamp of eternal damnation of the wizarding world. "What about it?"

"Riddle."

Draco tossed his book aside, leaning forward and pinning Blaise with a death glare. "Stop beating around the bush and spit it out."

"Something's wrong with Matteo."

Draco snorted, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. "I'll say - that's nothing new."

"Stop acting like you don't give a fuck about him and listen to me," Blaise growled, taking a step forward. "Something is wrong."

"Something is always wrong!" Draco spat, meeting Zabini's glare hatefully. "I've got my own fucking problems."

Blaise looked Draco up and down disdainfully. "We all have our own fucking problems, but Riddle -"

"Riddle's a big boy, and he can handle himself," Malfoy said cooly, reaching for his book. "Now unless you've barged into my room in the dead of the night to tell me the bloke has hung himself, I don't particularly care."

Blaise spun on his heel, heading towards the door. "I just thought you might like to know he's attempting to burn the dark mark off his arm downstairs in the common room."

"He's what?!" Draco shot upright, looking at Blaise like he'd lost his mind. Blaise met his eyes with a stare that didn't back down, the truth in his chocolate eyes apparent. Draco bolted towards the door, "Bloody fucking hell."

He took the stairs down to the common room four at a time, nearly tripping himself in the process until he landed on the last stair with a thud. He sprinted down the corridor, barging into the common room. It was empty except for Matteo who sat cross legged in front of the blazing fire, a scalding red hot poker in his right hand and his left arm barred in front of him.

"Riddle!" Malfoy started forward immediately, knocking over a side table in his hurry. Matteo didn't even turn around; gave no indication that he had ever heard Draco's voice. "Riddle!"

When the son of Voldemort didn't respond, the fire poker inches from his skin Draco lurched over the last couch, slashing his wand and disarming Matteo. The fire poker sailed across the room, striking the wall with a burst of sparks before falling to the ground.

Matteo did turn around then, his eyes wide with surprise and squinted in hate. "Malfoy! What the fuck!"

"What the fuck? What the bloody hell are you thinking?!" Draco stormed forward, grabbing Matteo's arm and surveying it closely. He'd already burned two lines across his arms, the sweltering blisters a testimony to how long he'd managed to hold the blazing poker there. "What the actual fuck are you doing?"