𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

lavender frost

“I don't do anything with my life,
except romanticize
and decay
with indecision.”

•

THE SECOND GLASS of Butterbeer remained untouched as Draco sat alone in the Forbidden Forest with the bottle as his companion. He stared hard at the dried ground beneath him and raised his wand, conjuring a wreath of laurels with a non-verbal spell. "You were supposed to be my best man."

It had been two weeks since he came to Hogwarts. Skylar had wrote to him multiple times since, all about how excited she was about the start of her training, how awesome it would be to turn to an animagus and her conversation with his parents. He had read through them multiple times before tucking the letters into an ornate box of memories. Almost everyday, his classes would go on a little too long because none of his friends were there; he'd sit with Granger both of them raising their hands at every possible chance to answer, and then recede to their Common Room, silently doing their homework. But every chance he would get, he'd come to the Forbidden Forest, where his best friend's tomb remained.

It was simple— a patch of clear ground, cleared of weed and a white marble tombstone that said:

Theodore Harvey Nott
September 1st, 1980—
December 1st 1997
Friend, Son and Hero.

“to live in the hearts of those
we love is not to die.”

Draco had chosen the quote. The Notts were over as far as he knew; after Theo was killed by his father, Skylar had killed his father. Theo's mother had been dead for a while, taken with dragonpox, and Theo had no siblings. The Notts were over and Theo was small in death. "I'm getting married, you know?"

Draco knew there'd be no answer, but it was the serenity of this place that made him return every day. Sometimes, he'd even bring his food here to just lean against the cool marble and pretend his best friend was there. He never cried though, it was not like him. He had done his share of crying over Theo the first few months. Now, it was just the cold mourning and the lack of his presence within the walls of Hogwarts.

He had met Theo when they were both toddlers owing to their fathers's friendship. They had been the contrast to each other— Theo had black hair and brown eyes, Draco had silver hair and grey eyes. But all that contrast had dissolved and they were raised the same— prejudiced, snotty and rich kids with hardly any real friends; except each other. Of course, Pansy was there too, but she came way later; the two of them met the girl on Draco's eleventh birthday party. But by then, Theo and Draco had become one entity. Theo was the one Draco called over when he got his first broomstick and Draco was the one Theo called when he got his Hogwarts letter unexpectedly a year before he was supposed to be getting it.

"You were supposed to be alive, you cunt," Draco spat. "Not that I'm not enjoying the quiet without your presence. Alchemy sucks, I'm not sure if I'd really need it to be a Healer, but well," Draco shrugged by himself. The Forest had given him nightmares from when he was a child, but it was quiet, peaceful now. Draco could think straight here, without the incessant chattering of younger kids or constant questioning of Hermione Granger. None of his friends had returned to Hogwarts of course, and he felt extremely lonely, despite his Quidditch or illicit journeys to the restricted section of the library. "Professor Moro had us blow into a piece of clay for a whole class," Draco sniggered. "Saying that elemental transmutation involved air and earth, so as to make magic out of it. It's almost like Potions, it doesn't involve wand magic or anything."