The Internal Devices

Chapter 22

"Theo, mate, your restraint is unbelievable sometimes. If that were my girl...I'd have avada'd him on the spot." Blaise commented cheerfully as they strolled through the garish rosebushes lining his mother's estate.

Theo grumbled something unintelligible about how much he would like to use something rather unforgivable on the foul little Weasle, but couldn't for fear of enraging Hermione. Draco was close enough to hear and nudged him in the arm. "I won't tell if you don't."

He normally would have laughed at Draco's little quip, but he was momentarily distracted with his hands. It was now a quarter past five in the morning, and over the past few hours, his fingers had begun shaking violently. He needed another dose of his potions, and soon. When the trembles began, nausea was soon to follow. A familiar tightness was appearing in his chest as well, and he couldn't bear the thought of ruining any more of his friends' time by being overcome with one of his episodes. He searched his pockets almost frantically, even though he knew there was nothing in them. Somehow he had miscounted. He thought he had enough to make it through the holidays, but with his increased consumption he had gotten off and run out.

"Alright, Theo?" Draco asked anxiously. Theo made himself slow his movements, feigning composure. He plastered on one of his winning smiles and nodded. Usually, that worked swimmingly with his best friend, but tonight Draco looked on edge. "Do you need something?"

"I'm fine, Draco. Just a bit tired. I don't know if you recall, but we haven't slept tonight," Theo joked. His friend eyed the cane clenched in his hand and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know, mate...well, you look great, actually. That's what's bothering me. You've been fantastic. I haven't even heard you cough in weeks. I don't even know why you carry that thing around," he gestured at the cane, "because you haven't used it once. I can't help but wonder if something is wrong and if a part of you knows it. That although you look healthy, you don't quite feel healthy on the inside. I'm worried."

Theo stopped in place, dread filling his insides. Something about Draco's words unsettled him. To be honest, he didn't know why he bothered with the cane either, but he couldn't seem to go without it. Something urged him to grab it each morning for the past few weeks. It didn't make any sense. No. He was perfectly fine. Doubling and tripling his potions was working; for the first time in his life, he felt like he was truly living. Everyday tasks no longer incapacitated him and he was learning what it was to be normal. And normal was all he had ever wanted. If the only consequence of taking more than the recommended dosage was his recently clammy hands and blue fingertips, that was worth it, ten times over. Resolved, he held up his chin and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Like you said, I'm doing great. Sometimes we have to just be grateful for the good things that come in life. You don't have to always assume they will be taken away. Let's just enjoy it."

Draco let out a breath he had been holding and nodded slowly. "Alright. We'll enjoy it."

Blaise cantered back to urge them to hurry up. "Come on, lads. 'Stepdaddy' brought out the Rosso di Montalcino." He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the other boys couldn't help but chuckle before following him inside.

Like all good pureblooded households, Zabini Estate was magnificent. Where Parkinson Estate favored a more modern decor and Malfoy Manor a gothic one, the Zabini's, or rather Madam Zabini, was drawn to all things baroque. The hallways were spacious with dark columns beckoning you in. Every surface of the grand entryway was painted with scenes depicting love, war, and indulgence. A person could get lost in them; the chiaroscuro created a feeling that you were part of the art, a player in a delicate and contrastive game, sparred on by color. Just as Theo began examining one of his favorite pieces, Madam Zabini herself glided into the foyer.