Our Constellation--Dramione

Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, plotlines, characters, places, events (etc.) all belong to J.K. Rowling, she is the rightful owner. When a character is created by me, you'll know right away ;)

A/N: Mentions of self-harm.

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26 March 1998

... And I shouldn't have just sat by and watch Bellatrix carve the word Mudblo--

"Argh!"

For the tenth time that day, Draco angrily crumpled his parchment into a tiny wad, eventually tossing it in the flames with the other nine he'd screwed up. Unfortunately, it escaped his notice that the paper landed outside of the hearth, untouched by the fire.

"How hard must it be to write a bloody letter? How hard must it be?!" he growled.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly to settle his nerves.

Dear Tanks--

"Fuck!" One by one, Draco tore the minuscule hairs of his eagle-feather quill and pitched his last attempt at a letter into the fire. The spine of his poor quill was all that remained and so that, too, was tossed away.

Taking out a new writing utensil, he began writing in his untidy scrawl:

Tonks (with an "o," Draco mentally noted),

Please take me out of here. I can't stay. I thought I could handle being in his ranks, despite not even having a choice in the matter, but I thought I could. I've been near dementors before and the numbing power they hold over you is nothing compared to the darkness of my own home because, with the dementors, you indulge in only your fears. Here, my fears, as well as the fears of everyone else trapped in this manor, are consuming me alive.

They were here. Because this is a matter of the Order, I'm sure you'll hear all about it, so I won't relay the events that occurred earlier today. But you must know that I didn't want to sit by and do nothing while she was pinned to the ground, screaming and writhing in agony, so much so that my eardrums ruptured and caused my ears to bleed, and that is not, how muggles would call it, a figure of speech. I didn't want to just stand by and watch the sequences unfold, as it was causing her trauma and pain. But I had to! Please tell me I did the right thing because my mind won't let me believe otherwise. I shouldn't have just stayed quiet, I should've fought for her.

Draco stopped his writing and buried his face in the crease of his elbow while he released a frustrated sob of self-loathing. She is so beautiful and so pure, she didn't deserve the things that were done to her. No one deserves the wrath of the Dark Lord! he thought.

And after taking a few conscious breaths, he resumed.

If I can't tell this to anyone else that I care about, I know I can tell you. You mustn't breathe a word to anyone about this.

I have a deep suspicion that the trio will try to break into the Lestrange vault, after all, Bellatrix believed that they had stolen something important, and it might be there. I don't know what they are after, but with each step they come closer and closer to it, the Dark Lord grows weaker and weaker. He has stolen the Elder Wand from the late headmaster's tomb and is now using it against anyone that opposes him. My word of caution is that you choose your defenses carefully. You don't know what you're up against, but regardless, the trio will face the danger if it means ending the Dark Lord's reign of terror. I cannot stop that or enforce any precautions. But I beg of you to help them choose their next course of action wisely. Keep them safe, all of them.