✓ WE NEVER SLEEP, draco malfoy

F I F T Y - O N E

"i'm abandoning everything! everything!"

— Clarice Lispector, "The Departure of Trains" 

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"Let me go after her," snarled Draco with fevered anger he was able to bring out of himself easily. "Let me bring her back so we can kill her!"

"We don't even know where they went!" cried Bellatrix, rubbing her hands through her hair as she paced. "Those awful brats come in here and steal our wands?!" 

There was blood on her black shirt, making it darker than before. They'd healed it the best they could for now but there would be a scar. Somehow, the thought of that made Draco nearly smile but he swallowed that feeling and spat something awful out instead.

"I can find her," he cursed. "I can find that little blood-traitor, she can't hide from me! I know every place she'd go, let me go find her, bring her back for you–for us."

Bellatrix contemplated it for a moment, her face scrunching up. 

"Are you sure, Draco, darling?" cooed his mother with a nervous glint in her eyes. "If she's still with those...those..."

"Traitors," snarled Bellatrix and Narcissa nodded.

"Those traitors, then it won't be safe for you."

"I can handle them," he spat back. "I've done it for years in school, I'll be fine."

"Do what you must, son." Lucius's voice started Draco and when he turned to see his father, the man was giving him a slow nod and the ghost of something else in his face. Was it trust? A sense of strange pride? "Find the girl."

Draco took out his wand, one he'd stolen off of one of the dead Snatchers moments prior, and headed for the doors so he could Apparate. As he left the Manor, he only had one thought on his mind.

Find her. Find her. Find her.

Rowan dropped to her knees in the sand, the knees of her stockings getting soaked through with water. It was freezing. She was on the beach, staring down the pretty soft blue waves crashing on a gentle shore.

She looked up to the sky, feeling the sun spread over her face as she let her eyes flutter shut for a moment of peace. It smelled like salt and fresh air, something so different from the Manor that she could begin to tremble with the feel of this new world.

Her hands were shaking, pretty badly she noticed, as she looked down and opened her eyes. Her heart was in her throat and echoing in her ears but it all sounded like white noise, like waves crashing. She thought for a moment she heard seagulls but it was only the sickening sound of the knife being pulled out of her gut by her own hand.

Blood coated her palms and the front of her sweater. 

The pain was nearing numbness but it throbbed and ached, spreading through her stomach and chest like fire. She felt herself topple to the side, the world shifting sideways before she was staring down the waves in a blur of tears.

She reached out a weak hand, her fingertips grazing the cold water. It made her shudder and the action forced a wince out her throat.

"I'm h–here," she breathed out, her mouth tasting like metal. "Florence," her name spilled from her lips as blood did, "I'm here. I–I m–ade it."