Libertas

1.

He stood at her grave, smoking a cigarette.

Draco wanted to believe that his wife was in a better world, where it is always warm and there are no sorrows. He was never able to make her truly happy, although he tried to put all his strength into this. But there was no point in his efforts if he couldn't give her the main thing, a bit of love.

Malfoy was only acting out the feeling that Astoria wished for to see in her husband's grey eyes. He hugged her because it was supposed to be, and not because he could not live without touching her skin. He kissed her in the morning because this is how men in marriage behave. He slept with her under the same blanket because they were a family.

He did everything because this is what the family was supposed to look like.

But what shouldn't have happened was Astoria Malfoy's death. She was too young, her name shouldn't have been on the Grim Reaper's list. Draco hoped until the very last it was a cold that was about to recede, but Astoria was feeling weaker by the minute. And now her caring gaze was immortalized on the marble tombstone, that was being struck by drops of February rain.

He couldn't make her happy, and he couldn't keep her safe. Draco was deeply wounded by the guilt he had felt years ago, and now it has begun to bleed. His grey eyes darkened, he looked at Astoria's grave for the last time, threw out his cigarette butt and briskly walked out of the cemetery.

He didn't want to apparate at all. Perhaps it was because Malfoy Manor was too quiet and lonely right now. Everything about the estate reminded Draco of Astoria and her unhesitant laughter accompanied all of the girl's stories. He was amazed at how cheerful his wife was, after all, this could be one of the reasons to love her. But he never did.

His coat was soaking wet, and now he could feel the raindrops dripping down his back. Malfoy waited for the snow as if he wanted to hide his longing under it. But the heavens were crying, and at the same time, they destroyed the block of ice formed in Draco's heart.

"I'll make you happy," her voice went like a blade over his soul. "We'll be the happiest, Draco!"

She believed so desperately in their happy future thus he wanted to scream out loud because of the torn feelings at that moment. Malfoy stopped at a nearby tree, leaning against it and breathing heavily. He blamed himself for what had happened, he was too arrogant, and thereby ruined another life. He didn't just destroy it, he buried it.

His finger was still wearing a wedding ring engraved on the inside. Astoria took a long time to choose these rings, putting into them all the feelings she had for Draco. Thus she wanted the dream to come true one day, but it wasn't meant to be.

Hot tears welled up from his eyes and squeezed his hand into his fist. He lacked the strength to figure out what to do next. Astoria's death knocked him down and the ground out from under his feet, he felt he hadn't done everything for her. While he returned to the empty Malfoy Manor over and over again in the evenings, his heart and soul were rushing to another place, but he was afraid.

He was afraid that he would again doom someone to pain and suffering. After all, it was the fate of Draco Lucius Malfoy, to cause anguish to those who opened their hearts to him.

He knew there were only two people left in the world who would listen to him and share with him the shit that had been piling up for years. This is the slytherin friendship that no one remembers when they undertake to talk about what freaks are studying at the snake house.

Draco raised his eyes to the sky, staring with anger at the storm clouds, and appealing to the Nott Manor where he was welcome no matter what. With a bright and spacious living room and a smouldering fireplace, everything is the same. These walls literally smelled of cosiness, until the Malfoy estate without Astoria became too cold and depressing.