Secrets and Masks

66. Your fault

TW; MENTIONS OF SUICIDE

1st May

How the fuck had he let this happen?!

As Draco stared down at the girl who was sleeping soundly in his arms, it was all he could think about. The same questions had been repeating over and over again in his head like the beat of a drum for weeks.

How had he let this happen? How could he have let Voldemort infect her with his magic? How could he not have fucking realised it?! She'd been a Horcrux for almost a year and Draco, he hadn't had a clue.

The signs had been there. The nose bleeds. The nightmares she kept having. Telling him she felt Voldemort's magic still crawling in her skin, even months after he'd been in her mind.  All the signs were there and he'd been so busy fighting his feelings for her that he hadn't put the pieces together – not until it was too late.

That compass, Draco had known what it was the moment Kingsley had slammed it down on the table. He hadn't seen it for over eighteen months but he'd recognise it anywhere. It'd been his idea to move the bloody thing and store it somewhere safe so the enemy didn't get their hands on it. The fucking irony of it all.

The move under the tunnels, that'd been Malfoy's idea. He remembered the plan he'd made down to the last detail, and he remembered the pain Voldemort had bestowed upon him as punishment when the mission had gone tits up and the compass had been stolen.

Six hours of constant Cruciatus curse - how could anyone ever forget that?

His failure with the compass, it'd also been the reason he'd been on standby a few weeks later when the Dover incident happened. He knew he needed to do something to get back in the Dark Lord's good books and waiting in the wings with a hungry dragon while some Gold Masks moved a carriage of girls seemed like a good way to do that.

The only reason Granger had been captured in Dover was because he'd been there, and the only reason he was there, was because of that fucking compass.

The compass, no matter which way he looked at it, that'd been the thing that brought Granger into his life, and ultimately, that was the thing that was going to take her from him too.

He'd never forget the feeling that'd swarmed over him when its dial had landed on her.

That feeling, the way his heart had stopped mid-beat and it felt like his chest was collapsing in on itself, it'd been worse than the six hours of Cruciatus curse. It'd hurt more than anything else he'd ever experienced because he knew the pain wouldn't pass, it wasn't going to get better in the future because the future that he wanted? That future that he'd been growing attached to? The one with Granger? It didn't exist anymore, had snapped out of fucking existence the moment that dial pointed at her chest.

It was as though that dial on the compass had cut the strings that held up his future and ever since then, he'd felt like he was free falling. Free falling into a great big black hole and he had no idea how he was going to crawl out of it.

And if he was being honest with himself, he didn't even know if he wanted to crawl out of it.

How the fuck could he have let this happen?

Draco was supposed to be clever and cunning. He was supposed to always have a plan and protect the ones he loved so how, how the fuck had he not had a clue that the woman who'd come to infect every dream and thought he had, had also been infected herself - right under his fucking nose.

He'd fucking failed Granger.

How the fuck could he have failed her like that?!

It's your fault, Draco, the words were so loud and clear in his head, he could have sworn that Voldemort was standing behind him, hissing them in his ear.