All I Have Left

Chapter Ninety Eight

TW: blood and self-harm

The first thing I process when I open my eyes is that my head is resting on someone's lap— Draco's lap.

He has his left hand in my hair, his thumb brushing across my forehead absentmindedly, his other fingers tangled in my curls. His right hand holds a book in it, and I watch him through a half-lidded gaze as his focus moves across the page intently.

An odd sort of warm fondness for him suddenly blooms in my chest, watching him here so casually, being gently caressed by him, an act so subconscious it thrills me. It shocks me, the affection that overcomes me all of a sudden, and a small sound escapes me at the feeling.

His attention immediately flits down to me. I give a small smile that's interrupted by a yawn. Draco watches the action, amused, before shutting the book he was holding and setting it down beside him.

"What were you reading?" I ask, my voice groggy with sleep.

"A book on wards and protection spells." He says. He regards my look of surprise with a smirk. "You mentioned them the other day. I thought it might be nice to keep those intrusive rats crawling around the Manor out of my room."

"Good idea." I tell him. "They're quite terrible with boundaries."

His lips purse in a flat line. "I'm not thrilled to live with them again."

I close my eyes, tense at the reminder of a gloomy, Death Eater-filled Malfoy Manor. The concept of returning there was nauseating.

"You know my stance." I say tightly.

"Don't even suggest running away." Draco says, no trace of humor in his voice. "It's not happening. He'll have us killed."

"We could evade his capture." I insist, watching him carefully. "I could ensure we don't get caught. I've been reading up on certain spells that—"

"We aren't— no, Lila." Draco interjects, removing my head from where it rested on his thighs and moving to stand up. "We would cause more harm than good."

"I know ways we can help." I continue, sitting up on the sofa and practically pleading to his turned back. "We can stop this war. We would end this all—"

"And my mother?" Draco says sharply, still not looking at me. "Our friends? What about them?"

I fall silent, indecision and remorse plaguing me. I felt a need to repent for even daring to join the Dark Lord, yet terror consumed me when I entertained the fear of the chaos and destruction I would leave behind if I officially betrayed Voldemort.

Should I take a more silent approach, where I confide in the Order about the Horcruxes and share my knowledge with them? Where I could assist them behind the scenes and be a true double agent?

Or should I go rogue and take off, seeking out these cursed artefacts myself and spending Merlin knows how long on the run from Voldemort's murderous and vengeful acolytes?

The first one was certainly more appealing. However, there were many risks in going down that route. If I wait until after Dumbledore dies to extend my resources to the Order, there was a chance they may reject me. Imprison me. Kill me. And not everyone in the Order is to be trusted— there must be traitors, or at least weak-minded individuals who would be unable to sustain any sort of restraint against Voldemort if captured.

While running away and fighting on my own was definitely not the most fool-proof plan, it had more certainties than the other. I know what will happen if I escape: I will chase down the Horcruxes, Death Eaters constantly on my trail, as I learn to live in absurd places and circumstances and make do with what I have around me. I would need to be resourceful and clever. I would have to outsmart the Death Eaters at every turn. I would have to kill many.