PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy II

47

I didn't bring anything here tonight except a blanket in case it was cold in the boathouse. Draco and I sit opposite each other. He sits opposite me, sweat wiped off his brow, and now he is silent. It's been twenty minutes. He procured stuff from his bag. He brought me apple juice, and himself tea. He charms it warm.

"Are you going to avoid talking forever?" I say as I sip the sweet drink.

Draco looks at me. He seems to be sobering up, but I don't see that in his eyes. They are glossy. His skin seems waxy, melting, even though it is a cold September evening.

Maybe he'd warm up if I was nicer, but I doubt it. Draco knows me too well, knows when I want something.

"You can't just shut me out like that," I point out.

He stares forward. I get the feeling he is looking at some part of me that isn't my eyes. My nose perhaps, or the spot between my brows where my skin wrinkles. I can't hide the anger. It's not something I should have to hide from him. He isn't seeing me.

"Are you..." when I trail off he twists his head slightly to his left, but it's the most of a reaction that I get. His face is too blank. The pale skin on his face feels like a cage, the eyes even steeled and bent like metal. All of it just feels like skin and bones and muscles, and not him. Like a homunculus. "Are you doing occlumency?"

He looks at me and nods.

"When do you learn that?"

"My aunt taught me," he explains.

I bite my lip. There is a war coming, and his family is on the opposite side that Professor Dumbledore is asking me to join. Surely, that hasn't been taught to him for purposes that aren't nefarious. I lean back and look at the ceiling. There is certainly mildew growing against the glass. I tilt my head forward.

"Don't do that with me," I tell him. "You said everything. I don't know what we are if we can't keep our promises to each other."

Really, I don't know who we are if we can't be everything. I never minded telling him all that there was to me because I didn't care what he thought. Even now, now when I do care so deeply, I don't mind. I told him it was everything. I agreed to it.

He leans forward and takes my hands. I touch them and there he is again. Face pale, hands clammy, and Draco all the way through.

"What happened tonight?"

It's the final time I ask. No matter how much he jokes about it, I'm not keen to repeat myself. We fall into the same patterns to often.

Draco shuffles across the blanket we've laid out. We lean our backs against a stack of boats, one that isn't as rickety as the others. I let my head rest in the crook of his neck. He still holds one of my hands. I feel him tap along my knuckles in the pattern he always does on his wand. A muggle might think he were a piano player.

"I'll tell you, but don't interrupt me until I'm done," he starts. He takes in a deep breath, and then breathes out. "Last night, my friends and I were in our dorm, drinking. Pansy was there. Her dormmates were annoying her. Anyway, Theo can't keep his mouth shut. He starts talking about the Dark Lord, and how things finally seem to be falling into place. Blaise told him that we weren't supposed to talk about that kind of stuff. I just...

"Well, Theo decides to have his fun. He asks us all who we are looking forward to cracking first."

Draco pauses. I don't think he's done so I close my mouth, although I'm unsure exactly what Theo means by cracking. Breaking, perhaps. Killing. Whatever his version is of having fun. I'm not exactly sure.