Promises Kept, Hearts Full of Trust

4

I woke up with my head resting on his upper arm, and my back pressed against his front. His other arm was draped across my waist, and his face was nestled in the crevice where my neck and shoulder met.

As I lay there, a soft smile crept onto my face at the sound of Draco's gentle snores echoing in my ear.

His presence in my childhood bedroom was truly heartening, although, much like fate often does, it was overshadowed by the ceaseless rapidity of my thoughts, which seemed to accelerate the moment I woke up, engulfing me in a whirlwind of overthinking.

Harry's concern about me... Dumbledore's death... Snape's betrayal... Lyra who is most definitely indescribably angry with me... The conversation I had with Professor McGonagall last night... My own betrayal... The Order... Remus... Professor Slughorn... The Dursleys... Voldemort... Lestrange... Narcissa Malfoy... Draco... Draco... Draco...

In the chaos and confusion, I found myself constantly battling against Harry's relentless attempts to infiltrate my thoughts.

His voice echoed in the recesses of my mind, repeating my name over and over like a broken record.

Yet, with each persistent call, I used the art of Occlumency to construct a barrier, a fortress around my thoughts, successfully blocking his attempts to gain access.

But very so often a fragment of a message would manage to seep through.

Harry was in a state of desperate urgency, hunting for answers. He wanted to know if I was safe, if my location was secured, if I still shared the same allegiance with him that I had always claimed.

But I couldn't grant him the reassurance he sought, not under these circumstances, not at this time, not before Draco's safety was secure.

The events of the previous night, the chaos that ensued, the choices I made... I had replayed them over and over in my mind.

I had dissected each memory, each decision, each fleeting moment a million times by now, as if hoping to unearth some hidden detail, some overlooked fact that could change the narrative of what had happened.

Dumbledore's death, Snape's betrayal, and the chaos that unfolded afterwards.

It was all so overwhelming, so intense, that it was difficult for me to process and make sense of everything that was happening.

I was struggling, trying to piece together the fragments of information in an attempt to understand the situation in its entirety.

I questioned my own judgment, wondering if I had been too naive to trust Snape.

Dumbledore had put his faith in him for a reason, but now it seemed like a terrible mistake.

Snape's actions shattered any illusions I had about him, leaving me with a deep sense of hopelessness now that he was no longer on the opposite side of Voldemort.

All jesting aside, Snape possessed remarkable qualities to win a fight against Voldemort, and now, with him on Voldemort's side, the odds seemed even more stacked against us.

At this point, it had become clear to me that Draco was probably aware of Snape's loyalty to Voldemort.

It was a realisation that was not only unexpected but also uncomfortable, and I found myself grappling with an irritating sentiment that was gradually washing over me, clouding my thoughts and emotions.

The thought of the situation in the Wizarding world, which was now spiralling uncontrollably into a pit of darkness, was a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort I was experiencing here in Draco's arms.