Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Seventy

By the time Draco had finished explaining everything that had happened over Easter Break, I was holding his hand in a death grip.

Apparently, Fenrir Greyback had caught Harry Potter and brought him to the Malfoy Manor, demanding to meet with You-Know-Who. But Potter had been pretty banged up — beyond recognition, anyways — and they couldn't figure out whether it was really him.

Before Lucius could call You-Know-Who, Bellatrix had screamed at him to stop, saying they "shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now". She'd spotted a sword one of the Greyback's held — the Sword of Gryffindor. Apparently, it had been stolen from her vault at Gringotts.

So while they studied the sword, they locked up Potter and Ron in the dungeons while Hermione was tortured by Bellatrix. When Draco retold this part, he paled considerably, looking horrified as he remembered the sound of her screams.

I didn't urge him to continue, trying to spare him from reliving the memories, but he went on anyways, describing how Dobby had helped all the prisoners in the dungeons escape, including Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, and Ollivander the wandmaker. Ron and Potter had come to Hermione's rescue, and after a scuffle with the Death Eaters, they Disapparated to God-knows-where.

"So... Potter's alive, then?" I asked, amazed. To be honest, I'd half-thought he was dead by now, what with all the Snatchers and Death Eaters out for his head.

Draco nodded, his legs kicking in the water. We were seated at the edge of the pool, myself wrapped in a towel and Draco sitting atop his.

"Guess so," he answered, a frown coming to his face, and I waited for him to speak his thoughts. It took him a moment, but eventually, he admitted in a quiet voice, "I denied it was him, you know."

I felt my eyebrows push together. "You did?"

Draco nodded. "I don't know why. I couldn't tell them it was really him."

My eyebrows shot up. "You knew it was him the entire time, but you still denied it?"

Draco's jaw clenched as if he was just as shocked as I was. "I can't explain it, all right? Yeah, I knew it was him the moment I saw him. But it just felt like — I don't know, like maybe..." he trailed off, his brow smoothing over as he seemed to come to a conclusion. "It was like I was trying to protect him."

I watched Draco's side profile, watching as he kicked his legs in the warm water, his hands propped on either side of him. I didn't blame him for protecting Harry Potter, to be honest — I might have done the same. Not because I like him, no — definitely not that — but because...

"He might be the only person left alive who stands any chance against You-Know-Who," I voiced my thoughts aloud, and Draco looked up at me, meeting my gaze curiously. "That's why you saved him, isn't it?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, as though he hadn't realized it himself until just now. "Yeah..." he answered thoughtfully. "I reckon you're right."

We fell silent, the only sounds coming from the immense bathtub before us. I gazed at the surface of the water absently, a memory swimming before my eyes. Draco and I sat at the edge of the Black Lake, beneath the shade of a tree. We'd talked about our feelings for one another, admitting the way we viewed each other. I'd admitted that Draco had always seemed merely misunderstood, and the phrase became an inside joke between us. Looking back, I felt like I'd taken those moments for granted. It felt like lifetimes ago by now.

"I miss the way things used to be."

Draco's voice caught me off guard, and I looked up at him, surprised to find him watching me.