Chilled Legacy

Chilled Legacy XIX: The Search Part 1

A/N: So I'm not sure I've ever written a chapter this long this fast. I went into like a 3-day writing trance and everything is blurry no lol. I'm estimating about 1 more chapter left of this fic not counting a bonus one I'm adding.
Anyway, aaaah. 

Hope you guys enjoy!

Chilled Legacy XIX

It happened so slowly that Harry didn't notice the change until Ron pointed it out. He couldn't even pinpoint where it started, or if it would end, but one thing was for sure—the change was growing. Someone was blowing on a spark the size of a mustard seed, gently enough to be inaudible, but strong enough to ignite a fire that would bring both joy and tragedy.

They were nearly at the infirmary and Harry had slowly dug his hands out of his pockets and Astoria undid her scarf.

"It's warmer," Ron said.

A single drop fell atop Harry's face. It slid down from his forehead to his chin, Like Draco's tears on Luna's face. Then, another.

A long silence fell over them as they stared at the gradually melting walls and ceiling. Astoria started choking on air.

Harry and Ron turned to look at her, realization dawning on Ron first. "Draco," Ron whispered.

It was running time. Harry dragged Astoria behind them. Her legs moved, but she felt like a stumbling rag doll. They pushed through multitudes of students, many removing their thicker coats. Some were dumbstruck, others were already celebrating.

Harry pushed open the door of the infirmary and ungracefully crashed in. About ten healers turned to look at them.

"Let me see her," Harry demanded.

The main one made that fake empathetic, yet firm face that told him he was about to be shooed out just before a familiar figure walked forth from the crowd of healers.

"Neville," Ron said, "how is she? Is she—"

Ron stopped when he saw Neville's puffy eyes. Harry's heart plummeted to his stomach until Neville spoke next. "She woke up," he croaked, then half smiled. "She's okay."

Astoria's knees buckled behind Harry, his grip still on her arm. Her stare was blank, staring fixedly at nothing. Harry and Ron hoisted her up.

"What's going on?"

"Dray," Astoria whispered. "I want Draco."

"The castle is melting," Harry said, knowing Neville would understand immediately.

Just as Harry expected, his jaw dropped and they were running again, this time with Neville in their ranks.

***

So he couldn't find the red veil as blindfolded as he once thought. It was a minor setback, but everything was slowly falling into place. Now he knew exactly where he stood. Draco found himself wandering the outskirts of a small town by the name of Aust-Agder—near the southwest of the Norwegian capital.

The place was not exactly Arendelle, but he was close. Really close. Oddly shaped trees and rocks sent pulses through him, and at times he could almost hear the voices of the strange wizards with him and feel the cold breeze hit his numb, drunken face.
Except now it felt more real, but he was all alone.

Any time he found his mind drifting to the current situation, or hear that voice telling him don't be stupid, Draco would think of Luna and her blonde strands fading white like Stormberg's feathers. She would not become another perfectly preserved statue. Even if he couldn't see it, she had to smile at Neville again, dreamily skip down an empty corridor humming a song no one listens to, and get deeply absorbed in conversation with an unfortunate and unsuspecting Hogwart's student about the dangers or wonders of undiscovered magical beasts. Luna had to keep being Luna. Draco had to do it.