Scattered Pieces (Drarry Fanfic)

Chapter Eleven: Of Secrets and Vows

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame

Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, I'm needy
Warm me up and breathe me

Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found
Yeah, I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

— Breathe Me by Sia

~oOo~

Draco takes a long, absent drag of his cigarette, breathing in deep. He sighs, releasing perfect rings of smoke into the open air. He watches them curl and dissipate into nothing, blown away by a brisk wind.

He's standing in the middle of the garden at Grimmauld Place. Its nothing compared to the sprawling expanse of the Malfoy Manor's grounds, but the lawn is well-tended and the flowers are absolutely stunning. He takes a deep breath, letting the fragrant scent of the blooms calm him. A gentle breeze sweeps through, lifting Draco's hair about his face. He closes his eyes, reveling in the peace and quiet of the moment.

Draco opens his eyes slowly and looks around, bemused. He's never pegged Harry Potter, the battle-hardened Auror, to have a knack for gardening. He doubts Kreacher, the moody house-elf, would even spare a moment to tend to the flowers. Draco wonders if Harry hires a gardener to care for the plants. He hasn't seen anyone else but Harry and Kreacher the past couple of days he's lived here.

Draco takes a final drag of his cigarette and Vanishes the spent stub into oblivion. He may not possess a wand to do more complicated Magic with, but he's learned to do simple spells wandlessly. What the Ministry doesn't know won't hurt them.

Draco flinches, breath catching in his lungs as a twinge if pain curls in his chest. The crack in his core is slowly expanding. Even doing just the simplest of spells has begun to hurt. He clenches his jaw, tamping down the surge of dread that floods him.

I want this. He tells himself.

I deserve nothing less. He insists, clutching at the front of his shirt.

He turns away from the gorgeous garden and walks slowly towards the house. He needs a bracing cup of tea. He's about to meet his new Healer.

A soft pop and Kreacher appears before him. Mumbling under his breath, the ancient house-elf unceremoniously grabs a hold of Draco's hand and before the blond could even blink, he is Apparated into the kitchen.

Draco sucks in a deep, shuddering breath and sinks weakly onto one of the chairs. Tea has already been prepared and is waiting for him, along with a plate of chocolate biscuits—Draco's favorite. Kreacher doesn't say a word and proceeds to ignore him as he bustles about the kitchen.

Draco hums, pouring himself a cup. A splash of cream and lots of sugar later, Draco is quietly sipping his tea, watching Kreacher grumble his way through dinner preparation. For all his ill-natured crankiness, Draco could see how important Harry is to Kreacher. Draco isn't blind to the respect and grudging affection Kreacher holds for his current Master.