A Throne of Blood and Stars

Prologue

Draco wakes.

He's behind his curtains, as always, curled in a ball, and listens to the outside as his classmates run amok, getting ready for the day ahead.

There's a sigh that escapes his lips, maybe two, before he decides that he has to go to classes. He hears a swift knock on one of his bedposts, and then a caramel nose pokes into his morning.

"Draco? Are you feeling well?"

"Yes," he replies, turning his head away when Blaise peeks his whole head in. Then, he adds, "I dreamt of him."

There's a moment of silence. "Of the Dark--"

"No," Draco immediately interrupts, not bearing to hear the name. "Harry."

He turns in time to see Blaise round his lips and nod curtly in realization. "Was it the same one?"

Draco shrugs. Then he sits up, pensive. "Actually, it was different this time."

Blaise, sensing the seriousness in Draco's voice, scoots in all the way and settles onto the mattress. He swishes his wand, curating a silencing charm on the curtains. He nods.

"Everything was the same, except..." Draco pauses, looking past Blaise at the velvet surrounding him. "Except that I...I die, this time," he says quietly.

He hears his best friend inhale slowly and feels the bed dip closer to him, and then he's being tackled into the mattress, covered again in the duvet. "Stay here," Blaise whispers. "You don't have to go to class. I'll get your work for you and I'm sure the professors will understand."

Draco nods. He waits until Blaise is done tucking him in and watches as he goes to pull the curtains apart once again, after swishing his wand, and then he reaches for Blaise's wrist.

Blaise turns and sits back down immediately, raising a soft brow in acknowledgment.

"Why is he not back yet? He should be here, with the rest of them--I came back. And," he sighs, drops his head when Blaise squeezes his hand.

"Maybe," Blaise starts, clearing his throat. "Maybe he's not done grieving. Maybe he hasn't finished recovering. We all lost something, or someone. And maybe he feels that it's all his fault. We all heal differently, Draco."

And without another word, Blaise slips out after giving Draco a soft smile. Draco sighs again, he feels as if it's mechanical now, an action that his body uses to stay occupied so he won't break down.

Three months. It's been three months since anyone has seen the Savior of the Wizarding World. The last time he was seen was inside the castle, Draco remembers reading it in the paper. How he spent most of the summer rebuilding Hogwarts and donating his life's worth to help the misfortunate that got caught in the crossfire.

He feels something like sadness whenever he sits in the Great Hall, in his usual seat facing the Gryffindor table, and doesn't see Harry sitting next to Granger. Draco even misses the familiarity of looking over and seeing him half asleep over his parchment while Weasley stuffs his face and Granger is hellbent on scribbling in her notes.

Now all he sees is Ron's grim expression and Granger with a permanent frown. They keep to themselves, mostly. But sometimes, Draco catches Ron looking over at the Slytherin table with an indecipherable glint in his eyes. He never gets to catch who the Gryffindor is looking at, though, because Ron always manages to look back down at his book with a little shake of his head.