"Well it's settled, then! Tomorrow we shall have breakfast at this Streetwise Maple place you seem to love so much." Astoria smiled, and Draco couldn't help but lean in and kiss her, because that smile was just so infectious, and wonderful. He loved it when she smiled like that. ...
9:00, 9:30, 10:00... 12:00, 3:00, 7:00...
"Astoria was found dead this morning-"
Draco gasped as he woke, a cold sweat sticking to his pale skin. He blinked several times, trying to shake the feeling of overwhelming despair that was weighing over his chest. He looked around to see the room around him empty. Sighing, he laid back down, willing that heaviness away. It was then that the events of last night came to him. Being released from the hospital, being put under witness protection with Potter...
Potter.
Of all the people to now be sharing a flat with. Harry bloody Potter.
Draco could hear movement coming from the other side of his bedroom door and knew that it must be him. Well, maybe he hoped it a bit, too, lest he open the door to the black-veiled figure-
It must be Potter. It is Potter. Draco would know if something happened to Potter, Draco would know if he was in any danger. The locking charms and the alarm wards and...
Surely he would have heard something in his light and fitful sleep if he were in danger.
Draco got up from bed rather quickly following those thoughts, going to make his bed as neatly as possible, having o exert extra force on his fingers to stop the tremors as he pulled every corner taut and rid the sheets of any excess wrinkles. Just fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it...
He heard a crash come from the outside and jumped, his heart flying to his throat. It wasn't until Potter's soft cursing could be heard that he was able to force himself to relax. Breathe...
He would be there if something were to happen. It's his job. That's why he's here.
Eventually, Draco decided that being in the main portion of his flat would reassure him enough since he could see out the windows and watch the door. Potter would be able to more easily protect him-
He doesn't need protecting. He shouldn't need Potter's help. He shouldn't, he...
Draco opened the door to see Potter serving up plates with eggs and bacon. He shuffled out the door.
"I see you made yourself comfortable with the kitchen."
"Oh, I, well... I hope you don't mind. I was getting hungry and you were asleep and..."
Draco sighed, noting that it was easier to forget about all of the danger he was in when he had Potter there to distract him. He moved toward the table fit for two and sat down in front of a plate. Potter could be heard rummaging around the kitchen and Draco forced himself to wonder what it would be like to be sitting here in complete silence, alone with his thoughts, like he had all this time...
He figured in that case that he probably wouldn't be eating. Too much time to think, far too much. He would probably have resorted to more cleaning, or perhaps baking, or perhaps...
Perhaps he would be too scared to leave his room. More doors, more protection, in his room.
A gaping hole made itself present within Draco the moment he gathered a forkful of eggs with the intent to eat, and he found it felt terribly similar to scattered moments between waking and succumbing to unconsciousness on the cold, hard floor of the cellar. Too familiar, as if it were happening again, he felt open in a way that he should absolutely not feel. Like his insides were being exposed to the harsh, cold outside. Insides should never have the ability to feel outside. Draco reached to his stomach where jagged scar tissue could be felt beneath raw, trembling fingertips. He suddenly wanted to vomit.
YOU ARE READING
Cicatrices- Marks That Remain
Fanfiction"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy." Draco stopped, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He thought of the scars on his left arm. He thought of the scars across his torso...
