Living Death

- chapter sixteen

You woke up late morning, eyes heavy with exhaustion and tiredness despite your little lie in. Occlumency was draining you of everything. Your memories. Your emotions. Your very being. Your nights were dedicated to those awful lessons with Snape. But you knew you had to do this. Not only for yourself, but for Draco.

Snape had been generous enough to give you occasional updates on his condition, apparently he spent most of his time walking the castle alone, but you knew what that really meant. No one else knew of Draco's habit but you had caught onto it almost instantly. Ever since Lucius was sent to Azkaban, Draco spent most of his time in the Room of Requirement, wanting to hide from everything and everyone. Occasionally, he would let you in. You could enter the room if he wanted you to, if not, no matter how hard you tried or wanted it, you were shut out. You remember many an argument resulted in him hiding away in there, you outside, eyes firmly shut attempting to get in, crying out in frustration sometimes.

You had to see him. Just once. Just a glance. Enough to satisfy you that he was okay. Snape was occupied with his new headmaster duties, and as he had to balance that with teaching potions, for the time being, he had let you outside of his sight. You overheard Snape pass your room in the corridor with Slughorn by his side, talking to him about the classroom and the curriculum he was currently teaching. He must've been looking to give the Potions Master job to him.

The corridor was otherwise empty, it was the middle of the day and almost all students would be busy in their respective lessons. You slowly pushed open the door after you knew they'd gone, tilting your head to look down the corridor each way. Not a soul.

You had pulled on some uniform you had, knowing if you had to disguise yourself you would be less easily spotted in this than if you were in casual clothing. Something about tying your tie had you tearing up slightly with nostalgia, and you mentally scolded yourself for crying over something as dumb as your uniform that you used to hate putting on.

You slipped out into the corridor and pulled the hood of your cloak over your head slightly, clutching it up a little. You roughly knew where the entrance of the Room of Requirement was, and the outside air of the castle was so fresh you almost choked. It made you feel alive. Other than occasionally having to slip behind a column, you managed to avoid anyone you came across with ease and now you were staring up at the tapestry that covered the entrance to the room. You held your breath and whispered softly under you breath as you closed your eyes. "Please Draco"

You heard the click of heavy metal against stone and audibly gasped as the door slowly began to appear before you. Somehow, for some reason, Draco had not locked you out. Almost as though he left it open for you, in case you would visit him. Like he knew you'd find him, even after death. You smiled sadly to yourself. He could be rather sentimental at times but this broke your heart.

You walked silently into the room, it was cluttered with storage items from floor to ceiling. Holding your hand over your heart a little, you began to take a few paces forward, it felt overwhelming to be out of your room, and to know Draco was somewhere in here too made you want to find him, and run into his arms, but you had to remind yourself of your reality. You tried to control your breathing, you had to get a hold of yourself if you wanted to even see a glimpse of him.

The clutter around you would be easy to hide in if you had to and you knew better than to make any quick movements. There was a faint sound you could heard nearby, and you could feel the presence of someone in the otherwise silence. It had to be him.

You peered over a chest of drawers, cluttered with candle sticks and a bird cage on top, enough to peak through without him being able to see you. And there he was, sat in a antique old arm chair that was almost falling apart, his lids open but seemingly empty behind the eyes. He looked hauntingly beautiful but not the Draco you knew. His white hair was slightly disheveled and he looked frailer than usual. He was holding himself differently, his posture seemed defeated and broken. His wand lay loosely in his hand as whispered a small incantation, his voice weak and a little husky. You watched and saw a small wreath appear before him, with little roses sprouting from the greenery.

You almost jumped a little as he suddenly burst into tears, crouching over, his wand dropping to the floor and his head in his hands. He was almost choking on his tears and you would've done anything to run to him but you gripped the chest of drawers with one hand, the other balled into a small fist as you dug your fingernails into your own palm to remind yourself not to do anything foolish. You looked away from him after a moment and crouched down behind the cabinet, hand covering your mouth as a silent tear rolled down you cheek. You knew not to make a sound, but Draco's sobs were echoing through the room, inescapable, and torturing. You knew better than to stay a moment longer and silently made your way back to the door, heading out without a sound. It took everything not to run to him, to hold him close and tell him everything was okay. Your hand still covering your mouth as you sprinted back to your room. Thankfully, there was no one around to see you, no one would could recall you by name or appearance, because you had completely forgotten to made yourself scarce.

All you could see was Draco crying, head in his hands, desperately gasping for air between his sobs, at his own little memorial service for you complete with a wreath. All alone.

You swiftly opened your door and slammed it hard after you, back against it once you were inside, sliding down to the floor slowly and mentally thanking Professor Snape for putting a silencing charm on your room. You couldn't stop the tears from falling now, and you could feel the wool of your school jumper dampening against your shirt as each tear fell uncontrollably. You slipped off your cloak and bundle it up, burying your face in it as you screamed into it before realising you could scream as loud as you wanted. No one could hear you. This continued for what seemed like an eternity until you found yourself staring absently at the stone wall opposite, head hurting and eyes burning from all the tears you'd shed. So much for thinking seeing him would help.

He thought you were gone.
He really thought you were dead.