Of Doves and Dragons

Chapter Twenty: Drenched in the Water

"And in the end, I'd do it all again. I think you're my best friend. And don't you know that the kids aren't alright?"

-Fall Out Boy, The Kids Aren't Alright

He killed a bird. It was such a small thing, such a small life that had died during the transportation. He had never killed anything and the scene of the tiny white bird laying lifeless at the bottom of the cabinet tightened his throat considerably. If a bird could cut him down to the bone, how would he ever be able to kill Dumbledore?

This latest failure destroyed his taciturn disposition. He was so close to the edge of a forever being taken from him, he could feel the crumbles starting to give way to his unshakable disappointments.

He needed Ember. She would know how to fix this. She was good like that; knowing what he needed emotionally before he did. This...death was too emotionally devastating to his already fragile heart.

He hoped that she would be waiting in the Great Hall. Sometimes, after she had her ridiculous walks with Snape, she would step in to their evening meal. She seemed to do it more when Draco was quieter in the mornings as if she sensed that he wasn't in the mood to deal with society alone. He appreciated her for her intuitiveness and even more for her discretion. He had never been one to bring up situations in which he would flounder awkwardly in.

He counted on her being in the Hall this evening because he wasn't sure if he could make it all the way down into the dungeons with his barely stitch together resolve. Anyone could see through him in this moment, he was completely transparent.

And she wasn't in the Great Hall.

But Katie Bell was.

And she was speaking with Potter.

Shit.

As if he had shouted her name, Katie's eyes met his prompting Potter to look over his shoulder and take Draco in. The world was funneling, compressing him into a glass cage. He could already feel the microscopic eyes blaring down at him, already becoming blind from the flashes of overbearing cameras. The spiral was inevitable; his heart was in his throat.

They knew. He knew. This couldn't be happening.

He quickly broke eye contact and turned on his heel, fleeing the Great Hall and Potter's accusing glare.

Where could he go? The dungeons were too far, and he was reaching maximum breakdown level fast. Where did one go to fall apart... The lavatory!

With a location in mind, Draco fled up a flight of stairs and tore down the hallway, heading for the Prefects Bathroom. His throat was beginning to close up, and it was getting harder to breath. It was too hot! His skin crawled desperate for some sort of relief. Was this how Ember felt right before a panic attack, he thought as loosened his tie and turned the corner.

Finally, he could see the door. He thrust it open and ran straight for the sinks, thanking Merlin that no one was there. The door thud shut behind him and sealed him from the outside world. He felt his whole body begin to tremble as he started gasping for breath. He was too enclosed despite being left alone in the darkness.

Potter fucking knows, he moaned. He's gonna know that I'm a failure and that I'm stupid and incompetent and he's never going to stop pocking holes through my already sinking ship. Merlin, he wished Ember was here.

He awkwardly slung his sweater vest over his head and splashed some cool water on his face hoping that it would calm down his racing heart. He didn't even feel the tears streaming down his face until they began to collect in the corner of his mouth. He glanced at himself in the mirror. He grimaced; desperately wanting to throw his fist through the glass so that he wouldn't have to see his own pathetically monstrous face.