𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐆𝐨

𝐗𝐕

The forest was quiet this time.

Empty it seemed, and not even the sound of my footfalls could be heard.

I looked around for my parents. I looked for Voldemort. I looked for any sign of life to reassure myself with that I was real, and this was not.

Even the trees seemed thinner and the wilted grass looked even more dead and brown. I wondered what would happen if I touched it, it was so brittle and crisp it would have to have broken away at the slightest disturbance.

To put it in words less profound: It was quite saddening.

Sadder than crying. Sadder than Draco.

It was like an instinct, or a manifestation, but the moment I thought about him, there he was. Just standing there, blond, grey, and clad in black in plain sight.

But he was hiding. I didn't know exactly how, but I just knew. There was some kind of deep desolation and despair running through his bones and seeping out of his skin.

How you just fall into place with everything else, like you're trying to make it look like you don't exist.

I drew closer to him, I had to. I had to find some clue or giveaway to tell myself that I was only dreaming.

But my dreams have come true before.

Sure, the Horcrux in me is gone, but how could I be sure that something like this would never happen again?

His face was what made me want to run away. Wake up. Get out.

I couldn't.

I was frozen in my place, the brittle grass,
leaves and tree roots began to intertwine themselves around my ankles and up my shins until my lower half became one with the dirt and earth.

He was so sad. Of courses he was. When was he not?

What happened? No one should be this sad as you...

It was infuriating. I didn't like that it was, or that I couldn't find a way to stop it, but it made me so angry that I just couldn't fix it.

Not once did he say a word, but he didn't have to. He was a figment of my imagination, a reflection of what I thought of him, I knew what he was thinking. I created it, I controlled it, I could change it, and yet I still couldn't fix it.

My war will never end, Potter...

I suppose, mine didn't either. It only changed, like it changed everything else. Draco, Ginny, Fred, they were new people now, with new stories and purposes, new insides that would change their outside.

Thoughts, perspectives, esteem, preservation, it was all different now. It was so hard to try to remember that Draco specifically wasn't the same person as he was before.

And as different as he was, I still couldn't help but think of him as lovely. Lovely. Was that the right word? Was it enough?

We were face to face now, my mind projected such a clear and flawless image of him that I had trouble believing that he wasn't real.

"Maybe i'm not."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

***

"Harry!"

"What, Ophiuchus?" I was slightly agitated after my dream. I didn't know what it meant, was it supposed to mean anything?

Her mouth fell open as she looked lost at what to say next. Merlin, why was everyone so sensitive lately?

The war's over, Harry.

Yeah, no need to worry anymore.

Yeah? If it was that easy, why wouldn't everyone follow their own advice? The war is over, everything is just peachy now.

"You're mad at me?" she squeaked.

I sighed and shifted my feet in my shoes. "No. I just can't talk now."

"So, you're avoiding me then," she sounded so hurt. If she wasn't two dimensional, and my mind wasn't so preoccupied, I could've hugged her. "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends. I'm sorry, I'm just a little busy at the moment."

Her expression tuned to one of question, "With what?" she asked.

When I didn't answer her fast enough, she said, "I won't tell anyone, but you know that already. No one listens to me anyways."

She had such a talent of making me feel like shit just to get me to talk to her.

"Well, it's just that... Oh, I don't know," I was exasperated, "I need to help someone and I have no idea how to do it. I can't even help myself!"

Her eyes turned sad for me as she listened. She just listened to me. I did truly enjoy her company more than I told her. She was so easy to talk to, she had such a way with words that you wouldn't expect from someone who looked as young as she did. But she knew when others needed to talk too.

"I though that when the war ended, and Voldemort died, I could stop saving other people," I ranted, and she listened. "I thought that I could finally have some peace and quiet and just be alive for once. Not survive. I don't like just surviving.

"I want to do things that kids do. I want to do something stupid that's also funny and never regret again, I want to run around outside without running from someone. I want to stay up all night and sleep all day, I want to read and finish a good book, I want to fall in love, I want to dance around without a care in the world... I just want a real life."

I was breathing heavy now. Saying all that in one breath was the only way I could make sure that I actually said it. I worried that if I stopped, I would cower away and have to keep it all piled up on my shoulders.

"Can I lend a hand?" she asked with the sweetest smile.

I smiled back, if only a small one. I didn't think I could muster anything bigger than a slight tug on the corners of my lips.

"Who do you need to help?" she tilted her head, "I observe everyone in the common room, maybe I will know how."

"I doubt you'll want to do that, Ophiuchus. Thanks anyways."

Her smile fell into a frown. "But maybe I do! Just tell me their name so at least I get a chance to say whether I want to or not."

"Really. I know for a fact that you won't want to help them," I persisted, "In fact, I think you'll hate me for even wanting to."

"Harry. Tell me."

I sighed.

"Draco Malfoy. I need to help Draco Malfoy."