Obliviate

Chapter 21

The morning began like any other, ink-stained parchment, the scrape of quills, and the faint smell of toast and pumpkin juice clinging to the Ravenclaw common room. But for Lily, it was different. From the moment she opened her eyes, her world felt fractured, like someone had pressed a mirror too hard and spidered the glass into shards.

The first Echo came before she'd even left her dormitory.

She bent to fasten her shoe buckle, and suddenly the laces blurred into golden light. Her breath caught. In that instant she wasn't in Ravenclaw Tower at all; she was in the library, long ago. A pale boy sat at a desk with ink smudged fingers, parchment curling at the edges. Draco Malfoy. His eyes weren't sharp with cruelty but soft, fixed on someone across the table. She didn't see her face, only a glint of brown curls as parchment rustled, and the faintest trace of peppermint when she breathed in.

"Focus, Draco," the vision whispered, as if it wanted to fold itself into her bones.

And then it was gone.

"Lily?" Kara's voice cut through the haze. "You're staring at your shoe like it insulted your mother."

Lily forced a laugh, though her pulse still raced. "Just... tired."

By mid-morning, the visions hadn't stopped. They came in jolts; between heartbeats, between breaths.

In Charms, when Professor Flitwick flicked his wand and a string of colored sparks burst into the air, the glittering light carried her somewhere else entirely.

Another Echo. This one colder.

Draco again but older, seventeen, maybe eighteen. His wand hand shook as he stood in the Astronomy Tower. A man with a long silver beard waited at the edge, calm even in the face of death. Lily's stomach dropped. She knew this moment from history books. Draco's voice was strangled, trembling.

"He'll kill me..."

The weight of his choice pressed into her chest, unbearable, before it ripped away. She blinked, back in the classroom, the sparks already gone.

Kara nudged her with a quill. "You're pale as Nearly Headless Nick. Want me to cover your notes?"

Lily nodded quickly, throat too tight for words.

By lunchtime, it was almost unbearable.

At the Ravenclaw table, Albus leaned over from the Gryffindor benches, tossing her a grin. "You and Scorpius going to Hogsmeade on Saturday?"

Kara smirked. "Don't pretend you're not."

Lily rolled her eyes, cheeks warming. She didn't answer because her spoon froze halfway to her mouth.

Another Echo.

A dance floor glittered before her, lanterns strung high. Music swelled. Hermione Granger young, glowing, radiant was spinning in the arms of a tall, broad-shouldered boy Lily didn't recognize. His foreign accent carried even in laughter, and Hermione's cheeks flushed with delight.

And Draco's fury. He stood near the edge, jaw locked, hands fisted in white-knuckled silence. The jealousy was sharp enough that Lily's chest ached with it, so visceral she almost gasped aloud.

Then the vision cut, leaving only pumpkin soup steaming in front of her.

"Lily?" Albus frowned. "You alright?"

"Fine," she managed, though her hand trembled as she set down her spoon.

Old and new echos were bleeding into each other now.

The day sped forward. The visions never warned her, one moment she was present, the next she was swallowed whole.

By afternoon she'd given up pretending to be fine. She fled to the Room of Requirement, and Scorpius followed without question.

The Tree greeted them, branches spread wide, golden leaves humming in the quiet air. Scorpius settled on the floor beside her, studying her with concern.

"You're not yourself," he said gently.

"I've been seeing them all day," Lily whispered. "Echoes. Just pieces, scattered everywhere. I can't control it."

He reached for her hand, steadying. "Then we'll face them together."

But she shook her head. "Not these. Not all of them. Some are too... private. I think they're only meant for me."

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't argue. Instead, he pulled her close, letting her lean against him while the Tree whispered above. For a time, they stayed that way, wrapped in silence.

Evening fell, painting the castle in streaks of violet and gold. Lily tried to convince herself it was over, that the worst had passed.

But as she left her astronomy class and started down the dim corridor, the world fractured one last time.

Silver hair glimmered in the half-light. Draco. Not a boy this time, but the man she'd glimpsed previously in the corridor. His hand was pressed to his cheek, eyes closed, as though reliving a pain that never left him.

His whisper slid into the stillness, low and raw:
"Why did I feel that way for you, mudblood..."

The word should have carried venom. Instead, it sounded strangled, emptied of malice, like a man tearing himself in two.

Lily was shocked she was reliving Draco's most recent memory.

She told Scorpius that night.

He listened, silent, a storm flickering in his eyes. When she finished, he exhaled slowly. "He's losing his mind," he said finally. "All these years, and he's unraveling."

Neither of them spoke after that.

But the night wasn't finished with her.

When she finally lay down in bed, exhaustion tugging at her bones, the final Echo came. The repeat of an old echo still tore her apart.

She was back in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. The air stank of smoke and fear. Hermione's screams ripped through the walls, high and breaking, and Lily felt each one slice into her ribs.

Bellatrix's laughter was jagged and cruel.

And Draco was there. Standing frozen, his face pale, his body rigid with restraint. His lips moved, but the words were almost soundless.

"Please... stop..."

He didn't move to help. His hands clenched white at his sides, fingernails cutting into his palms. He stared at the floor, as if by not looking he could somehow survive it. His terror was suffocating, not for himself but for what might happen if he broke, if he revealed what he felt.

Because if Voldemort ever saw it, if he ever pried inside Draco's thoughts, everything would be destroyed. His mother. Hermione. Himself.

So Draco stood there, motionless, his silence both betrayal and protection.

The vision shattered around her, leaving Lily gasping awake, tears hot on her cheeks.

She pressed her hands to her mouth to smother the sob rising in her throat.

And in the stillness of Ravenclaw Tower, with moonlight bleeding across her quilt, one thought curled sharp as a blade in her chest:

How much of him was monster... and how much was man?