𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the hand of death

"Fear is incomplete knowledge."

•

WHAT DRACO WANTED, Draco got. And right then,as August's crispy winds blew away into September, Draco Malfoy wanted his sanity back.

It was one of those days, when he woke up in the room previously occupied by Percy Weasley, in a fit of nightmares,waving his wand around, looking for monsters in the shadows, or Skylar in the dimly filtered sunlight. It was those kind of days when the gravity of the situation burdened him so badly, that he resorted to cast silencing charms on himself, just so he can scream and cry without alarming anyone else. It was those nights when he truly wished Skylar was with him, just to tell him, 'I got a spell for that,' to ease him out of his misery.

Mania and anger came with the Malfoy name, as did the burden it carried. The weight of the name had been thrust upon his shoulders since he was merely a child, when it was too hard for him to carry. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper had been etched to his blood, veins and soul. Just like the deactivated Dark Mark on his wrist. No matter how much he clawed at them, he couldn't rid himself of it.

Initially, his mind always wandered to his parents. No matter how sick, how twisted, how strict-they were his parents, and his sanctuary. His mind wandered to the piercing blue eyes of his mother when he'd burn himself with hot tea, or nip his fingers whilst using a knife. His ears would ring with his mother's sweet voice, beckoning all the house elves to fetch the best,freshly made Dittany to reduce pain and avoid scarring. He remembered her concerns, her scoldings, her hugs and her soft, warm love, flowing towards him like golden threats if magic.

And then his mind would wander to the piercing grey ones, just like his own, cold but filled with a form of love he had learned to decrypt over the years. There had been a time when he had been afraid of his father, afraid of disappointing Lucius Malfoy, the businessman, the heir of Malfoy dynasty. But he had learned that his father wasn't good at showing emotions. So he buried it under short, smooth replies, careful small talks about school, silky questions about what new, shiny gift Draco wanted next.

And Skylar had been there to hold his hand while he remembered his parents, now locked in the Malfoy Manor for Draco's defection, Draco's traitory, Draco's disloyalty. Skylar had been there to kiss his scars and tell him everything would be fine once it's all over. Skylar had been there to trace his Dark Mark and talk about painting it over with narcissus flowers once everything was fine. Skylar was there to tell him she and Harry Potter would fix everything.

Now Skylar was gone.

She had been gone for two months, with no notice on whether or not she was alive, and even if she was, if she had all her organs still functioning, and even if she did, if she was sane and composed still or some of her strings had been broken by the Unforgivable the Dark Lord loved to use on her.

And now there was one more personal he cared for, taken away from him into the clutched if uncertain fate, for the cause his family stood for in the past hundred years. One more person to think about as Draco remained locked inside the Burrow, with a vial of Polyjuice Potion ready in case someone decides to drop by to check.

In his awake, his mind would wander to the darkest thoughts,so he resorted to sleeping potions, for in his dreams he saw her messy auburn hair, hue-changing eyes and muggle get up, walking down the Diagon Alley, speaking in an accent that eventually faded over time and fused into British, threatening to pour ice cream in him for he had made the mistake if crossing her. In his dreams he saw the strange girl with quills in her hair, getting excited about schoolwork, performing magic far beyond their curriculum, making him cast his patronus. In his dreams he saw the girl who deliberately put her name in the Goblet of Fire to protect the Boy Who Lived, spoke to dragons, grew gills underwater and rescued him, went inside a maze to save the life of Cedric Diggory, putting her own at risk. He saw the girl who refused to reveal her secrets, yet wove around him the same warm gold threads his mother did to him, embracing him in love and friendship, making him see the world beyond the four walls of the Manor.