Chapter Forty-four

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Numb.

I feel numb.

Though there is the quiet hum of talk around me I can barely take in a word. I hold the metal mug in my hand carefully, watching as steam rises from the tea it holds. Someone put a blanket over my shoulders a few minutes ago. Occasionally people smile and wave at me, but I don't speak. I don't know how to, or who I should speak to.

How can this be over?

For years I dreamt of this moment. For the relief and security that would come with his demise. Now, however, I can barely breathe for the shock. 

I stare at the scabs and bruises and cuts that litter my skin. I have had a long day, but the adrenaline hasn't worn off yet. I feel as though nothing has changed. I feel the same and yet I know everything is different now.

 My mind wanders to what Dumbledore had said when I had 'died'. About help at Hogwarts, and those deserving of it. While I resent him for his secrecy, I feel as though I finally have the closure I need to let him go. 

Someone passes me, and I look up quickly, 

"Blaise!" 

He turns, forcing a brief smile, he walks back to me, "Clara,"

"Have you seen him?"

Blaise looks away, opening his mouth and closing it, "No, not since-"

"Oh..." I murmur, looking back down at my mug. I swallow, Blaise turns to walk away, "Blaise, do you think he... left? With his parents?"

Blaise pauses, and then nods, "I think he did, I'm sorry-"

"No, no, it's fine," I say quickly, swallowing the fast-rising lump in my throat. 

Blaise sighs, ruffling my hair and then continuing towards the Slytherin congregation at the back of the Hall. I watch as Pansy collapses in on him out of grief and exhaustion. She cries a painful, dreadful cry that sounds as though she is heaving her lungs up. I look away. 

It occurs to me that I'll never see the blonde pixie girl again, her grin and red lipstick, her troublesome yet charming demeanour. 

Heat rises in my cheeks.

She'd sit with Pansy and me, drinking butterbeer laced with vodka at 2 am, joking about her little sister and how she-

All I can hear is Pansy crying. 

I clear my throat, shrug off the blanket and place my tea on the bench beside me. I walk towards the doors, my eyes grazing the worn faces of the survivors, most of which are glazed over and dull with thoughts. 

Molly and Ginny sit together, leaning on each other. Luna and Neville murmur to one another quietly and hopefully. Slughorn waves at me. 

A hand lightly touches my shoulder, and I turn, see a pair of familiar, aged eyes. I smile.

"Minerva," I say softly, pulling her into a hug. Her hugs, however motherly, are not the same as Molly's. They feel less warm but no less loving. I pull away, wiping tears from my cheeks and smiling at her as I continue towards the door. 

Hagrid walks through, and I grin, running up to him, "Hagrid!"

He pulls me into a hug, my feet briefly leaving the ground. He puts me back down and opens his mouth to speak, but just sighs, smiling. I nod, squeezing his hand and walking out through the doors and into the stark morning light. 

I walk through the courtyard, the crunch of crumbled stone beneath my feet as I walk around the mounds of rubble. I try not to look at the few bodies they haven't reached yet. My hands hang numbly by my sides, and I walk out of the courtyard, onto the bridge leading towards the forest. The cold wind whips at my face and I take a breath of air, filling my lungs, and smiling at the fresh feeling inside me. I feel tougher now. Older.

I bite my lip. If he left with them, he won't be coming back. I know it. 

I look back at the castle, frowning at it's new, jagged shape. If I were to tell my fourteen-year-old self that Hogwarts would one day no longer feel home to me, I would've been called insane. But the shell of a castle that stands before me is not home. I don't know where that is. It isn't with the Weasley's, really, as I always felt like a guest. It isn't Grimmauld, for that place is haunted and dark and seething with an ancient anger that has lasted generations. No, it isn't there. Nor is it a tent with Harry, Ron and Hermione, for that felt more like a hell than a home in the end. 

He is home. When I'm with him I feel at home. 

"Clara!"

I spin on my heels, the familiar voice coming as a rude shock. He's running towards me and the castle, and then he slows. 

Despite feeling as though the air has been pushed out of me at the sight of him I start to run. 

Leaping over rubble as tears stream down my cheeks, I run to him. Him. Draco Malfoy. The stupid, mean spirited, selfish, cowardly, annoying Slytherin boy I was meant to hate. The boy that I taught to draw because he was too afraid to ask me to the ball. The boy who gave me a place to stay when no one else would. The boy that saved me again and again. 

I reach him.

He stumbles backwards, catching me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me to his chest. He presses his face into my hair as I smell dust and ash on his blazer. I nuzzle my cold nose into his neck and smell him and feel hot tears stream down my face. He's here.

I pull away, "Your parents?"

"Not with me," He says quickly, kissing me then, hard, hot, his hands cradling my face as though I may disappear. He pulls back. "I'm not leaving you again. I won't do it, I can't,"

I nod, "And you won't have to," 

"Hey," 

I turn, my eyes meeting Harry's. Hermione and Ron stand behind him, holding hands and watching us. I glance at my brother.

"Harry-"

"I'd actually like to speak to Malfoy," He says quickly, and I opening my mouth to argue but he raises his hand and pushes me aside. Ron glances at me and shrugs.

Harry clears his throat, "So the rumours are true, Draco Malfoy has come back to Hogwarts," Draco's eyes widen in surprise. Harry takes a breath, "I'm Potter, Harry Potter, and-" Ron bursts out laughing, turning away as if he's just gotten the joke. Hermione jabs him in the ribs, 

"You think my name's funny do you?" Harry says in a high pitched voice, and Draco chuckles, glancing at me then back at Harry,

"-And that is my sister, Clara. You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are, begrudgingly, more welcoming than others, Malfoy, and as you've learned you don't want to make friends with the wrong sort."

Draco laughs, "You remembered all that?"

"We practised it in the dorm rooms mocking you for weeks, it's ingrained in me, now shut up and let me finish," Harry says quickly,

Remember all what?

"After all of this, for her sake, since I don't think you'll be going anywhere anytime soon," Harry smiles at me, and then holds up his hand, "Let me help you there."

Draco nods, shaking Harry's hand. A smile creeps across my face. I look over at Harry,

"What was-"

"Nothing, nothing-" Harry and Draco say quickly, chuckling. Draco wraps an arm around me. I roll my eyes.

"Harry, thank you," I say earnestly.

He smiles, "It's taken me long enough, and if you can forgive me, I can learn to live with him."

We stand together then, a small, strange group, in silence, staring out over the landscape unsure of what is to come but knowing somehow we can get through anything. A strange glue has interwoven all of us. This story is ours. 

The golden morning sunlight warms our skin and together we feel at home.

xxx

guys holy s h i t it's like nearly over I'm scared.




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