The Internal Devices

Chapter 19

It had been two hours and thirty-six minutes since Hermione had left for the holidays, and it was absolutely ridiculous that he even knew that. Usually, it didn't bother Draco to have time away from Granger. In fact, it was often a relief. She really did ask an obnoxious amount of questions, and her rambunctious curls continually hit him in the face when she was excited. She had grown on him over the past few months, but that was no reason to know how much time was passing after her departure.

The first few minutes after nine, Draco had been filled with a restless energy that sent him pacing in the halls. Was he falling ill? He had no idea what was wrong with him. He tried to occlude, but he couldn't even identify what he was trying to suppress. With increasing frustration he stomped up a set of stairs, tugging a hand through his hair. As he marched around corners, no destination in mind, the portraits snickered. Too aggravated to endure any commentary from them, he sent a silencio ahead of him. On the seventh floor, he looked up and was surprised to see himself face-to-face with the discrete entrance to the Room of Requirement. He blinked in confusion and wondered what he would find if he walked in. What was he in need of?

Draco tentatively reached for the handle, looking over his shoulder to confirm he was alone. No one. He took a breath and stepped inside.

At first, he was plunged into complete darkness. When he scrambled for the door behind him, his hand only met air. Panic began to set in, and he reached for his wand. He hated the dark. Darkness triggered his claustrophobia, and the Room of Requirement seemed to know. Draco hastily cast lumos.

For a moment he was afraid his magic wouldn't work, but a faint glow bloomed at the tip of his wand. He was able to breathe again and waited a moment for his heart to calm. Never again. Never again would he let himself feel trapped. Sometimes it was difficult to remember the war was over. In the light, it was easier to rationalize his fear. There were no monsters here, hiding behind silver masks, ready to terrorize him in his own home. This was just a room. A classroom, really, and although it was full of magic and took many forms, none of it was real. The logic soothed his pulse and Draco wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. He willed his lumos to brighten and spread throughout the room.

When the room was fully lit, Draco staggered back, disoriented. The Room of Requirement had created almost an exact replica of Draco's own mind. Ahead was the obsidian maze, towering so high he couldn't determine its true stature. He looked in amazement to the side and saw the usual clutter of memories, thoughts, and desires he hadn't found time or care to deposit within the maze. These were things he didn't deem dangerous or incriminating. Although it was all vastly familiar, it was unnerving to physically walk through it. A soft green glow emanated from the maze entrance, and Draco stepped toward it.

Like the tales of will-o'-the-wisps, the soft flame disappeared when he reached it, only to reappear a few meters away. Draco crept after it, led deeper and deeper into the maze. He wondered what the Room wanted to show him inside his own head. They passed trivial memories of quidditch, Hogsmeade trips, and writing essays in the library. As he followed, the memories became more sacred. A small smile from his mother. A quiet walk through the Manor gardens before He came to live with them. Flying alone over the castle during sixth year. Listening to Theo play in the abandoned classroom. Draco slowed his walk, hoping to spend more time in these moments, but the green light didn't wait for him. He made himself jog to catch up; he wasn't sure if he could become lost in here and didn't want to find out.

A few more minutes passed, and the memories took a dark turn. Images of war and suffering attacked his senses, and Draco struggled to remain upright. He knew they must be nearing the heart of the maze; he had a tendency to toss anything he didn't have the capacity to process toward the center. Here, Draco did not meticulously place the memories as he did on the outside. These were not images he wished to remember. Fortunately, the flame led him onwards. With a shock, Draco realized he had never wandered past the heart of his maze, but now they were making their way deeper. The air grew humid, and he got the distinct feeling of being inside a cave. A sound of rushing water erupted as they took another turn, and he looked down to see the floor was transparent with a violent river coursing underneath. He quickened his pace, glancing at the walls to either side of him. Instead of branching off into other tunnels, this passageway straightened farther than he could see. With nowhere to turn, he plowed forward.