PRECEDENT : Draco Malfoy prequel

67

After Draco leaves that morning, I don't expect him again. He doesn't come. So, I begin the regimend I've been working on. He didn't leave the wireless, since he was worried his friends might ask where he left it. I am exceptionally detailed with the calendar. There are adjustments that need to be made, but I never spend more than three hours doing the same thing, no matter how much the book I'm reading interests me or I think I'm improving my defensive spellwork. Being stuck in one place, I force my body to switch to different corners of the room, to leap to different topics to feel like I'm moving. I make sure to stand in every corner, to relish in each spot, as if studying curled up beneath the sink will convince me that there is more space then there actually is.

Mostly, I think about leaving. Travelling isn't something I thought much about doing before the war, but I come up with things for Draco and I to do once we escape. Swimming in the ocean, the proper ocean. Snowshoeing in the winter. Being outside all the time. I think about what kinds of muggle clothing he will wear that won't make him stand out. I don't do oil pastels, but I do spend hours picturing him in jewel tones rather than black. Button-ups with no sleeves. No patterns. Maybe even jeans, if I could get him to wear such a thing.

Maybe one day, if the war ever ends and if Harry Potter is victorious, we can come back to Britain. We can stand in Inverness, do tours of standing stones and look at runes. We would ignore what the people from Hogwarts might say. I don't know if we will win the war. I shouldn't think that far ahead. But maybe we could be together and we could be here.

I write letters to my parents and brothers. I pack go bags. When I'm exceptionally bored, I think about what to decorate the house we've decided upon. Being inside is inevitable, especially in something like a Canadian blizzard. Maybe if the home is exceptionally beautiful, I can convince myself to love it properly. Never before this did I think of myself as claustrophobic.

My mind keeps going. I make a list at the end of every week of things I haven't told Draco.

1. I love you, even if you've tortured people.

2. I will never forgive you for those terrible things.

3. No matter what, I will never give you a break. Ever. I'm always going to be pushing you. If I die first, I will become a ghost just so I can keep pushing you.

4. During the war, I've put a lot of thought into my death. Witches tend to live longer than wizards, and I think living here I'm in some weird Schrödinger's Cat. I know you don't know what that is. What I mean, is that so long as I'm in here, I never know if you are alive or dead at any given moment. I think I can bare the thought of you torturing people, and maybe even killing them. Killing seems more tolerable actually. I think I can bare all of that as long as I think you are still alive.

5. I think no matter where I went on the earth, you would find me. No one else may be able to track me here, but you could. The most fundamental parts of myself you know better than I do. I think we'd find each other even in death, at whatever is beyond the veil.

6. One day I'll die. I don't think you know that I know that. Actually, I'm not even sure you know that.

7. Remember when you asked me how long we could make this last? I don't actually think I would need a temporal pocket anymore to contain us to one single second of forever. I think we could make this last even longer. Even if we don't die.

Some weeks are different, though.

34. Everyone thinks I love apple juice, but I actually think it's just fine. I don't know why it's a whole thing.