If I Lose Myself

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Draco

February 1998

Draco felt as though there was some sort of gaping hole within him. It was uncharacteristic, considering how he had always felt himself whole for the person he, well, was. The person he is now is a completely different matter.

There was some kind of empty space within him that he couldn't quite fill. Back then, it was easy to make himself feel better. He'd simply find the slightest joy in bullying some innocent first year, or making snide remarks towards Weasley and whatever stupidity Potter and his gang were up to. He was filled to the brim doing that, and it made him whole. But now that he had experienced—and is still experiencing it—the very same thing that he had been doing to other people in the past, he was beginning to question whether or not anything that he's ever done before is justifiable now.

Today, he was regretting those very childish decisions now that he was in their shoes—except ten times worst.

The months dragged on at Hogwarts, making the castle a desolate home to bouts of torture and excruciating pain. He did not revel in the torturing the way the Carrows or his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, do. Not when he himself had witnessed it unforgivably done to his father, not when he'd dream of it happening to himself, not when he watched the aftermath of such happen to Astoria. He left the "fun part" to his friends, and though it was against everything he had to publicly hold, he would find himself making Prefect rounds just to keep innocent students off the hallways lest the Carrows get to them too.

It was short of bravery, but it was the least he could do. Hogwarts was no longer a home to them. The place had turned into a living nightmare.

Draco inhaled the cold, winter air of February as he stood before the railings of the Astronomy tower. A part of him was certain he never wanted to come back up here, considering what had happened in this very tower. But it was the only place farthest from the tortures, farthest from the Carrows, and perhaps, even farthest from reality.

He had taken to coming up to the tower very recently for it had given him some temporary relief from everything that's been going on.

"Come up here to be broody again?" Someone asked with humor in their voice.

Draco turned to see Astoria glide towards him, clad in her uniform and a green jumper, her hands behind her back.

It's been two months since Astoria's dreadful fate with the Carrows. But time was everyone's enemy, it seems, for he knew that Astoria hasn't exactly fully recovered from her injuries. She was still pale at times and constantly needed blood-replenishing potions, and would often require bed rest more than what was normally necessary. She was also still quite frightened to be touched except by her sister, Daphne. Some part of his resolved seemed to shatter at that thought, for he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and protect her from the cruelty of the world.

And yet, wasn't he part of that cruelty? Would allowing himself that privilege simply be another way to hurt Astoria?

He shook the thoughts away as he watched Astoria take the place beside him on the railing, her green eyes sweeping the fields of Hogwarts before them. While he found her paleness normal these days, something in her seemed to have changed, and he was almost certain it's not just because of the Carrows now. He found that she would often fold in on herself, keeping Draco from knowing more; which was odd. She had always been so open about her emotions. But this time, meddled with what happened with the Carrows and what other thing that seems to be bothering her, he was starting to lose sight of the Astoria she was.

"I don't brood," Draco mumbled lowly, hugging his winter coat closer to him as his eyes shifted towards the fields covered in snow. Everything looked dreadful from up here. There were hardly any stars in the sky. If there were, it was being covered by some gloomy fog Merlin knows where it was coming from. "I just like to listen to the quiet."