Our Constellation--Dramione

Chapter Seventeen

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: In the book, we know it is Crabbe, Draco, and Goyle, but in the movie, the actor who plays Goyle poses as Crabbe, and Zabini takes his place. For the sake of both versions, it's going to be Crabbe, Draco, and Zabini. Sorry, I know it's confusing.

Also, I think this goes without saying that this is a longer chapter.

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2 May 1998

To Harry, he heard every hiss, every syllable, of the one Horcrux in this very room. But to the untrained ear, they were whispers of vacancies. His finger grazed the blue diamonds and lingered on the raven figure. He was certain this was the Horcrux Tom Riddle had made from Ravenclaw's most prized possession.

"Well, well."

Harry snapped his head in the direction of the hollow and arrogant voice. He could hear the smirk in his tone almost as if he could see it, so it came as no surprise that Malfoy, accompanied by his cronies, had arrived, all with their wands drawn.

"What brings you here, Potter?"

Harry instantly clapped his hands down to his sides. There was no escaping this confrontation no matter how badly he wanted to.

"I could ask you the same."

Draco's impulse was to soften his gaze, this was Hermione's best friend. But then again, this was Harry Potter, the make-believe saint of all those that saw the wizarding world through black and white lenses.

"You have something of mine. I'd like it back."

Of course, Draco was referencing the wand that Potter had savagely stolen from him during their encounter at the manor.

"What's wrong with the one you have?"

Draco studied the wand in his hand and intently watched the sliver of light travel over the surface. "It's my mother's. It's powerful and loyal, but it's not the same. It doesn't quite understand me. Know what I mean?"

Harry had different motives. A scheme that dismayed Draco because it was evident that a cordial agreement about wand ownership was far from his interest.

"Why didn't you tell her? Bellatrix." Draco glared at him. How a person dared to brazenly speak of such things was preposterous to him, but not so much that he ventured to comment on it. "You knew it was me."

He could see from the corner of his peripheral vision that Zabini's wand was faltering. Draco hadn't wanted to fight Potter. He just anticipated the feel of his wand in his hands and if he could ask in a roundabout way where Hermione was, he would.

No sooner had he thought these things did he see Hermione to the left of Potter, half-hidden behind a tall stack of junk; the perks of being in a room for designated lost objects piled to the ceiling. It was dark in the room but he easily saw the pain behind her gaze and the heartache on her mind. She was so closed off though that he couldn't see if she was scared of him or scared in general.

Love, I can't hold my wand up anymore.

How was he to navigate out of this?

"Go on, Draco, do it," Crabbe hissed into his ear.

But he didn't want to. There was no domination to be had if he shot a single curse at Potter, but rather he would only show that he was indeed a coward. Perhaps the eye of his identity.

"Come on, don't be a prat, do it."

A prat? But that's all he'd been since fifth year. And even after that. He wanted to pause time and conjure memories of times when he was truly happy and euphoric melodies beat in his chest when she was near.