the-darker-path

[the-darker-path]

Draco glanced back once before rounding the corridor, and Taylor's expression was the reassurance he needed. She still looked stressed, there was no denying that--but there was a barely-noticeable softening, her eyes less manic, and he knew she had his note.

She'd be there tomorrow. And he could whatever possible just to make her smile again, if only for five minutes.

(~)

He had been too eager to escape proximity to Riddle, he supposed. Draco was suffering for it, now. Because before he even got to breakfast, there were a few peers in Slytherin who looked far too pleased, smug even, and it had his hackles half-raised as he sat down with Pansy, Theo, and Blaise, forcing himself to eat some apple cinnamon oatmeal.

The morning post arrived, and he glanced up as Orion descended, bearing a copy of the Prophet and an envelope bearing the Manor seal. He opened that first, relieved to find nothing dramatic, just his mother checking that he had settled back in well--when he heard an audible gasp across the hall. Hermione. Who was hastily spreading the newspaper out for the others to read.

Pansy unrolled his copy wordlessly, and he didn't have to look far to find it. "Fuck," Draco murmured, staring in raw horror at his aunt's face in black and white.

He excused himself, grabbing an apple, and made a quick exit before enough people could read it and start side-eyeing him. Running up staircase after staircase felt good, a burn in his muscles, and when he reached the right wall, all he could think was, Give us some shelter.

Taylor wasn't far behind, and opened the door to find the cozy little sitting room that he'd been given. Draco stood immediately from the chairs by the fire, crossing to meet her and kissing her as if he hadn't seen her in weeks, rather than days. "This is bad," he said simply. An understatement for the ages. "Are the others okay? Will Neville be?" He grimaced. "Fuck, of course he won't be. Mother didn't say a word in her letter, I wonder if they're there...."

[the-darker-path]

Seeing the confusion that flickered over Taylor's face before she concealed it, Draco wondered what else she knew. He could see clearly that she was curating what she told Moody and Kingsley of her dreams; now, she seemed concerned to hear that Riddle was still seeking something.

Whether the men did or not, she knew what it was. And she was worried, which meant that Draco was, too. But he pasted on a quick smile, giving her a knowing look. "'Have to be' doesn't mean you are. Find me later."

He let Sirius usher him out, huffing at his cousin's smirk about what he'd seen between the teenagers. Sirius got him safely near Wiltshire, and Draco headed for home, using the short walk to quickly bolster his mental defenses, bracing to spend his remaining days pretending as if he had not a care in the world.

(~)

To his relief, no one but his parents had cared that he left that day. Well, Greyback had, but that wasn't his fucking problem. And even better, Lucius had shown a little backbone, and Riddle had dismissively allowed them the "sentimentality"--his wording--of Draco leaving the Manor mere days later.

He owed Dumbledore a thank you for the Prefect badge. It made for good cover.

Of course, it wasn't exactly sunshine and roses to be back. Umbridge was eager to check in with all of her Inquisitorial Squad members, but at least she was easy to appease with a fake smile and minimal conversation. Being back in the dorms felt more like coming home than the Manor had, which was....depressing.

The worst thing was that he couldn't run right to Taylor. He could only watch in the following days as everyone returned, and non-Slytherin DA members could approach her freely. And as Draco watched, he could see that she was not okay, and he couldn't fucking do anything about it.

He was going to lose his mind. Leaving Charms, he heard Taylor snapping at Zacharias Smith, and Draco knew that this wasn't sustainable for either of them. With Pansy's agreement, he feigned pushing past the trio swiftly, sliding a strip of parchment into Taylor's hand as he passed.

Room tomorrow between breakfast and class.

[the-darker-path]

What an indescribably heavy burden to place on anybody.

Draco had suppressed that thought over and over for four years, watching Harry struggle, questioning how their world was allowing that innocent, under-prepared, kind-hearted boy to be the figurehead of a war that all of these adults were failing to wrap up. He had tried to believe his father that Riddle's side was right, that he couldn't possibly be being raised by lunatics for supporting the darkness.

And then Harry was murdered. Gruesomely. And the man who did it took vicious pleasure in bragging about cornering, terrorizing, humiliating, and killing a child. And now.....now, that mantle was falling to Harry's best friend.

He'd be angry if he didn't know that Taylor could handle it, perhaps even better than Harry had been equipped to. Draco was angry, but not enough to not have her back.

He was glad that Kingsley, at least, recognized that they were bartering more seriously with Taylor. She was not a child. A fact that she emphasized when she seemed to channel the dream, her voice and demeanor changing, all of them leaning back in shock at the eeriness of it. Draco's hand slipped in hers, clammy with sudden sweat.

"Well, you did save him," Moody said gruffly. "And we've got people watching over him now, no more mistakes."

"But now we know You-Know-Who is serious about this," Kingsley went on gravely. "He wants all of the information that he can obtain, and that includes things he didn't bother seeking last time." Down the hall, they heard the front door open, and the voices of Arthur and Molly, Fred, and George could be heard. "We are out of time," Kingsley murmured. "I'm sorry, Taylor, we will need to talk further at another time. And Draco, I assume, should get home."

"Unfortunately," he muttered. "If I'm lucky, I can go back to Hogwarts earlier." He lifted his and Taylor's hands, kissing her knuckles. "Are you going to be all right?"

[the-darker-path]

Draco could not remember seeing Taylor look this ashen. She looked as if she was unsure of her next steps for the first time, and Draco had no idea how to reassure her. She was their north star; he was just a sailor blindly following her light.

He stayed beside her, holding firmly to her hand under the table as the Aurors arrived. When Taylor answered the question, tone flat, Moody examined her with an intensity that Draco knew would make most people want to hide.

After a too-long pause, Kingsley spoke first. "Dumbledore was very clear about controlling Order intelligence," he said carefully. "Nothing said that doesn't need to be shared in a given moment." He traded a look with Moody, then moved to sit across from the teenagers. "But he also acknowledged that for all intents and purposes, Taylor, you are Harry for us, now, and should be treated with the by-basis adaptivity that he was. 'Special circumstances.'"

"If we're doing this, it's before Arthur and Molly get back," Moody warned, remaining standing but moving closer. Tonks went to get the tea and firewhiskey Sirius had mentioned, then sat. "She's in stitches trying to keep her litter from asking too many questions."

"We're all in it together," Draco replied steadily. "If they need to know things, we're telling them."

"Of course you are," Moody scoffed. "You're a Slytherin, boy, I don't need to know you personally to know that you can think for yourself, and strategy is a strength." He arched a scarred brow. "Nothing like your old man, are you?"

"Cursed by his looks, nothing more," Draco shrugged. "I'm a Black more than anything." As Sirius smirked at that, he pressed on. "So Bode. Why was an Unspeakable in Spell Damage care? And why would they want him dead?"

"You know about the Department of Mysteries?" Kingsley asked, and Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Minimal. My father's been around it." Seeing their expressions flicker, his eyes narrowed. "If he's involved, it won't hurt me. He's not evil, but he's desperate to appease Riddle. I know he's doing terrible things."

"We don't know if it was him or someone else," Moody shrugged. "Someone Imperiused Bode, though. Sent him into the heart of the place to see if his being a worker in there would make him able to retrieve an item. The rebound curses are why he was hospitalized. But he's recovering, and they know he'll be able to name who sent him in."

"Though now I wonder," Kingsley noted. "Taylor, you say you dreamed Bode's attack. Did you see anything prior? His being Imperiused, who did it? Or what they were sending him to find?"

"Do you not know, or are you asking her just to determine what to share?" Draco asked testily, and Tonks snorted a laugh.

"I see your point, Alastor, maybe we need more Slytherins on our side," she said.

[the-darker-path]

Something's not right.

From any other person, in the Order, in the DA, in all the wizarding world, those words would have made Draco scoff. He'd have snidely asked some where they got that flash of genius, especially if it was someone who knew that Riddle was back. Of course something wasn't right, nothing was bloody right.

But from Taylor? No, that was alarming. That was terrifying. Draco moved woodenly to sit beside her on the bench, no longer able to take his hands fully off of her, needing the grounding comfort of knowing she was there. Beside him. Safe and alive.

If Taylor was scared, with her foresight and her quick reactions and her constant confidence, then Draco knew they were in trouble.

The immediate hedging around the point from Sirius made his jaw clench, matching Taylor's frustration even if he wasn't caught up yet on her full anger. When she invoked Harry's name, both adults looked pained, and Draco exhaled through his nose.

"We are short on time," he said succinctly. "I can't stay long, they think I'm off having a nice day with Pansy. Sirius, I hate that this is how we cousins are all connecting, but the fact is, this is not the first round of Riddle's war. Back then, he thought he was untouchable and you lot were able to do a lot more behind the scenes, under his nose."

He took a breath. "But this time he's mad, and I mean that both as rage and insanity. I wasn't in that graveyard but I've heard him tell the story with relish enough that I can describe to you how your godson died, and trust me, there was no respect for him being a child of fourteen. Now Umbridge has been placed at Hogwarts with the same disregard. We are children in number alone. In reality, we're on the frontlines almost more than you Order folks are. We need to know."

There was a flare of white light, a lynx darting into the room in midair, and Kingsley's voice came from it. "On the way. Arthur released today. Having the twins intercept them."

Draco snorted a laugh. That was fair, Merlin knew if Molly walked in on finding out that any of the "kids" were insisting on information, she'd blow a gasket.

[the-darker-path]

He saw Taylor's worried look when Tonks just held out her hand to Draco as well, and when they were inside, he smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm 'out with Pansy,' that's pretty open-ended for us," he murmured. "I won't stay long. I just can't be totally in the dark."

He'd go insane.

Taylor was short on patience, that much was clear. The mention of stopping a murder had Sirius looking bewildered before their rising voices made him look anxiously at a curtained wall nearby, hastening to try and stop the women, but it was too late. Draco flinched, full body, when the curtains whipped away to reveal painting of a woman who could not be anything other than a Black. She didn't even seem to care who was present before she began screeching.

The ringing silence when Taylor out-shouted her, then stormed to the kitchen, was the most uncomfortable Draco had felt outside of his own home in months. He swallowed at Sirius' words, nodding and gesturing ahead. "....I take it that was family?"

"My mother," Sirius muttered. "Your great-aunt. Still working on undoing whatever fucking jinx has the portrait stuck."

"Good luck," Draco sighed as they entered the kitchen. There was a house elf there, old and creaky, who skulked back out of the room as soon as he spotted Sirius, and Draco raised his eyebrows. "I know that elf."

"You shouldn't," Sirius said in surprise. "Kreacher has been Black property all his life, worshipped my parents."

Draco eyed the doorway the elf had slunk through, making a mental note to ask Taylor about it. Because he was quite certain he had seen Kreacher before, and this was his first visit to this house.

Going to Taylor's side, he put his arm around her, feeling a frisson of calm snake through the unease of the day. He had missed touching her. "You're on edge," Draco said quietly. "Are you sure you can deal with this right now? You saved Bode and warned Tonks, you're not exactly calm at the moment."

Sirius stayed by the door, drawing his wand and conjuring a Patronus. It didn't linger, carrying his message for Moody and Shacklebolt, but Draco got the impression of something large and canine. He wondered if it was a version of Sirius' animagus form. "Tea?" Sirius asked, looking wary of how Taylor might react. "...something stronger?"

"Sirius."

"A shot of firewhiskey is not a bad thing when you're worked up, fifteen or not."

[the-darker-path]

Draco had been around Aurors in his life, and he typically felt a shiver of instinctive, respectful fear around them. He had no idea if that was because of the vibe they gave off, after most of them spent years dealing with all kinds of bad people, or if it was the fact that his earliest encounters with them had been raids on Malfoy Manor, scouring for evidence of Lucius being guilty or just a pawn in Riddle's first round of war.

Either way, Tonks' warm demeanor had made him rather forget the reality of her career. But in this moment she changed, like a switch thrown, and he was reminded sharply that she was magical law enforcement. And Draco was very glad that he was on her side.

Taylor was far too smart. He stared at her in admiration, wondering how anyone in this world did not realize that she had the real power. Then again, they lived in a time haunted by the works of Grindelwald and Riddle, watched over by Dumbledore and a few other great icons. Who was going to be looking at a fifteen-year-old girl and think anything significant of her?

Fools. The world would see.

Taylor's sharp words made his lips twitch a bit. "....spoken like Harry Potter's best friend," Draco murmured, and even Tonks had to give a crooked, strained smile of agreement as she turned to shuffle the two of them out of Spell Damage ward.

(~)

At least with Tonks with them, Apparation was an option. She took them both to Grimmauld Place, assuring Draco that she would get him safely back somewhere he could get home from later, and as soon as they were safely indoors, he removed the glamour ring, wanting his own face back.

"Taylor, is that you?" Sirius came hurrying from the kitchen, looking worried. "You were gone so long, I started thinking Mother did something worse than her usual stupid jinxes--oh, Merlin. Hello," he added, spotting Draco.

"Family reunion day," Tonks said dryly. "Sirius, I need Moody and Kingsley. It's urgent."

[the-darker-path]

Taylor looked as if she had seen a ghost. That was a joke made at Hogwarts, given that the place was literally populated by enough ghosts to form their own House, but the look on Taylor's face was one that made Draco understand what the actual phrase was meant to mean. She looked shaken and grieved, hurt, like the veil between life and death had been disturbed, and she had witnessed something that was not meant for her eyes.

He could understand the feeling. Draco felt entirely off-balance, as if they had intruded into Neville's very heart.

When Taylor answered him, it was another gut punch, and this one made him nauseous. Of fucking course; the Cruciatus was his aunt's favorite, her specialty, and to wield is so that a victim lost their mind but not their life, could move but was not there, was just so typical that he felt as if he should have realized just laying eyes on Alice Longbottom. And now he felt as if he had not deserved to be in the same room as her, let along her family.

"I can never make that up to him," Draco whispered hollowly. "Yet another reason to regret the family I come from." Or their choices, anyway. Andromeda had been the wisest of them. As far as he knew, Bellatrix had always been doomed by her own sadistic heart. Narcissa had only made the mistake of falling in love--and Lucius had made the choice to be weak.

Draco would not be his father's son anymore. He would choose his Black side, and to forge his own path.

He wasn't prepared for Taylor to snap at the Healer. Draco didn't completely blame her, as she explained, because she was right about the plant, and that was careless, but he doubted Miriam had malice in her. When Taylor snatched it and stalked out, he blinked, looked at the woman apologetically, then hurried after her. "Taylor--"

Tonks found them. Taylor's answer to her made his eyes widen, looking at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious, why would someone attempt to--" Draco stopped, catching up on everything. Where they were and why, why he was here. "That was your dream? You knew someone wanted that patient dead? Who the hell is Broderick Bode?"

Tonks' face whitened. "Lower your voice," she said immediately, sharply. "Taylor, what happened?"

[the-darker-path]

Watching Taylor on a mission was rather fascinating. Draco had read descriptions of hunting hounds catching a scent and becoming entirely consumed by their task, their bred-for purpose, but he wasn't sure he had ever seen it more realistically depicted than it was by the way that Taylor tracked her surroundings, sharp eyes scanning for her quarry.

He spotted the instant she had found it, but before he could investigate closer why she was eyeing the Healer's Christmas cart, of all things, another set of visitors emerged....and between two heartbeats, he saw Taylor's flash of alarm, and then he recognized his classmate.

Neville might have been improving impressively in the DA, but it didn't give him reflexes to not draw attention to noticing them in turn. Draco had only ever seen Neville's grandmother at a distance at King's Cross Station, but there was no doubting that was who the austere witch beside him was. And she had clocked them.

Draco stayed still, unsure of how to proceed when both Neville and Taylor looked devastated by this encounter.

Of course, if there was anything that could shake Taylor out of shock, it was the need to defend her friends. Her words clearly reached Neville, though he did not look up, and Draco wished he could give the other boy a reassuring smile.

He heard Mrs. Longbottom's explanation of what happened to her son and daughter-in-law, but Draco's entire focus was pulled to their corner of the room when the curtain stirred, and Neville's mother appeared. There was no mistaking who she was; she might look aged and meek, but Neville had her round, sweet face, and though her eyes were far wider, the color and smile lines were the same. Hers were faded, as though it had been years since they had creased.

When she gave her son the candy wrapper, and he pocketed it, Draco felt a part of his heart change shape, the same way it had the day that Riddle brought Harry's body home as Transfigured glasses. A profound grief too intense for their age, something no teenager, no person, should ever feel, and one that would remain with him forever.

Only when they turned to leave did Neville glance back up. Taylor's expression clearly soothed him, and when he looked at Draco, the confusion vanished as soon as he met the familiar eyes; he dipped his chin in a nod and shuffled away to help his mother.

When they were gone, Draco exhaled slowly. "You knew they're here," he murmured to Taylor. "Will he be okay? With us knowing? We won't say anything back at school, obviously."

Behind them, Lockhart had completely missed that they weren't even paying attention to him anymore. "Good thing I learned joined-up writing, eh, Broderick! I can do a few of these for you, too, can include them in your thank you's! Goodness, that's a lively plant someone sent you isn't it?"

[the-darker-path]

"I know, shocking, I'm more than just a pretty face," Draco was teasing her, before he was thoroughly distracted by the sight of the beaming blond man. Of all the people he might have named, had someone asked him who he thought they might spontaneously run into at St. Mungo's, he would not have named their ridiculous, lying narcissist of a "professor" from three years before.

Really, was it too much to think he might have forgotten his obsession with being popular? Of all the pompous behaviors he could have carried over into amnesia, did it have to be the desperate need to throw autographs at every person who accidentally made eye contact?

"Good thing Hermione's not here, then?" he smirked. "I remember how pink she got every single day. Blimey, did she ever forgive Ron for being the cause of this?" Then again, knowing Granger, she preferred not to discuss it, given that Lockhart had turned out to be a fraud.

It was almost pitiable, admittedly, seeing him like this. And seeing how the Healer treated him, for a grown man to be reduced to this level of helplessness....it was karma, perhaps, but it was also kind of depressing.

Draco sighed as they followed her through the doors, letting Taylor handle it. The glamour did not change his voice. Plus, honestly, it was funny seeing her look like she was fighting an eye twitch to be so polite.

"This is the long-term resident ward," Miriam told them merrily, before she guided Lockhart to an armchair beside his bed. "They're all harmless, visit as long as you like! I must get back to giving out Christmas presents."

Draco grimaced once she was gone, looking around. This ward bore unmistakable signs of being home to its residents; they had many more personal effects. The wall around Lockhart's headboard was papered with pictures of him, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals. He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed, childish writing. The moment he had been seated, he pulled a fresh stack of photographs toward him, seized a quill, and started signing them all feverishly.

"Well, that wasn't the way in I expected, but she did say we can visit them," Draco murmured. "Why are we in here? Your face when I asked about danger, is someone here--"

“Here you are, Agnes,” Miriam's voice drifted back; she was speaking to a furry-faced woman, handing her a small pile of Christmas presents. “See, not forgotten, are you? And your son’s sent an owl to say he’s visiting tonight, so that’s nice, isn’t it?” Agnes gave several loud barks. “And look, Broderick, you’ve been sent a potted plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they’ll brighten things up, won’t they? And — oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?”

[the-darker-path]

Draco looked forward to getting to know Tonks in a more secure setting, with her own face. He looked forward to knowing both his cousins, and his aunt, and having control over his own damn life.

Would Narcissa come with him, want to reunite with her kinder sister? Or would Lucius hold her back?

He shrugged off those grim thoughts as they reached a Healer, and Draco held back, not drawing attention to himself. Thankfully the magic was just worrisome enough that the Healer didn't care two knuts who was with her patient, focusing on mending her, and Draco exhaled with relief that it was easy enough to repair.

He nodded at Tonks, and when she left, he straightened as soon as Taylor moved. "Thickney? I know it, this way."

Call it a long-ago abandoned dream of working here one day, after being ill and admitted so often as a child, but he'd learned the layout of the hospital. It had its updates, but the skeleton remained the same. And with only one moment's hesitation, he had correctly followed the signs to the 49th ward, with a placard marking Spell Damage near the double doors.

"They'll be locked," he advised Taylor as they approached. "But should just take 'Alohamora.' The patients here are usually permanent residents, so they don't have wands. Why are we....?"

He drew up short when he saw a familiar face nearby, seemingly waiting on one of the Healers. "Bloody hell," Draco muttered, "is that Gilderoy Lockhart?"

[the-darker-path]

At least he knew the glamour worked. No one he passed looked twice at him--and Draco had become far too used to feeling constantly scrutinized, judged, and worse at home, he knew what it felt like when a glance lingered for even half a beat too long--and when he entered the lift, neither Taylor or Tonks looked at him longer than a second, either.

Taylor's instant quip made him snort a laugh. "No one is going to notice that," he insisted. "If they do, I can deal with it, I can just bribe them away." Draco detested the very idea of using money as power that way, but in this instance, he'd have no choice. He certainly wasn't going to get caught up with even St. Mungo's Securiwizards, let alone risk anyone probing past his glamour.

The impromptu introduction made him grin at Tonks, giving her a quick wave, before laughing again at Taylor's expanded explanation for her injury. "Called it," he scoffed. "Cut yourself cleaning up, my arse, you only get hurt if you permit it."

Seemed his cousin was every bit as cool as he'd been assured. "You and Sirius apparently got the decent Black genes," he lamented. "Though I suppose you had no Malfoy influence, so of course you're spared the platinum."

"I don't actually know if I'm naturally as dark-haired as Mum," Tonks smirked. "I was flipping through the rainbow before I could even focus my eyes. Metamorphmagus is fun. All righty, Taylor, here we go...."

Draco followed them off the lift, keeping a step behind in case he needed to evade anyone wanting to know who he was. "I assume you had a reason to want to meet here, specifically," he added to Taylor in a lower voice as Tonks went to greet a Healer and explain Taylor's need. "Could've told me about a dream over tea. Is everything okay, is someone in danger?"

[the-darker-path]

le petit prince -🪽🩸

the first time cas got sick as a human, sam was right there

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[the-darker-path]

Draco was very quickly glad that he'd gone with the glamour, not just because he couldn't risk anyone seeing him interact with Taylor Borelli....but because it turned out that Riddle's people were a lot more pervasive in their community than he had realized.

Just in leaving the public street to access the storefront leading into St. Mungo's, he glimpsed a few familiar faces, and once he was inside the hospital? Bloody hell. There were Death Eaters in the damned waiting room, and aside from one who appeared to be dealing with a jinx wound on his face, they didn't seem to be there for medical aid. Draco's stomach tightened, wondering if Riddle was just getting his fingers into every pie, gathering public information in preparation for eventually staging a coup to claim open control.

Then again, Lucius still went about his daily routine, when Riddle let him leave. And he was just a well-known name among purebloods. How many Ministry officials were already Riddle's puppets?

Wotcher. Oh, he knew that word.

Draco turned, spotting an unfamiliar Arab woman waiting near the lifts. But then a second later Taylor was joining her, and Draco stifled his grin as he realized Tonks was disguised, as well. He hurried past a few of the Death Eaters still waiting, catching up to the women and stepping into the lift as well. Tonks looked surprised, but did not stop him.

Once the lift closed, he cast a quick silencing charm over the three of them. "Okay, so I wondered what reason you had," he told Taylor, looking pointedly at her very much discolored arm. "But that was not what I expected. What did you do?"

[the-darker-path]

War is On Us // Closed RP cont.

continuation from here with @fidelixcorde

"I'll be crossing my fingers on that," Draco murmured. Drowsiness was seeping over him, and he knew that was credit to having one ounce of peace and happiness here--her. "Update me as you can," Draco requested softly. "....and let's just stay here for now? Fall asleep together."

It was the best rest he got all Christmas.

(~)

He mentioned the idea of returning early at breakfast, frankly impressing himself with how casually he managed it; it really did sound like he was thinking about seeing his Prefect badge one day be a Head Boy one, and his imminent O.W.L.s, with no thought of fleeing from the chilly silence here.

Lucius merely tensely said they'd consider it, because he was no longer master of his house, and it was not up to him if anyone left. Narcissa smiled, strained, and said that she was so proud of him for taking his studies so seriously, and they'd see. He wondered if she'd have to shove Lucius to get the balls to ask Riddle.

It was a good thing the days following Christmas were typically quiet, allowing him to return to his room. Draco saw the green flame as soon as he entered, and he rushed to pluck the floating scrap of paper, reading it and then immediately tossing it back into the now-regular fire to destroy it. Thank Merlin they'd been practicing glamours. He prepared one at once on a ring, then pocketed it to go downstairs to ask if he could meet Pansy for tea.

At least that, Riddle didn't care about. And no one was about to waste effort checking with the Parkinsons that Pansy was in fact there or not. Draco donned his cloak and left for central London, putting on the ring as soon as he was sure he wasn't followed. He was daker-skinned, black-haired now, with only his grey eyes unchanged.

He reached St. Mungo's quickly, using the visitor's entrance, and he got as far as the general waiting room before hesitating, unsure of where Taylor would be. There was a floor for the Mind Healers, but she'd just said she'd had a nightmare, not that she was here because of it. Fear tugged his heart--was Sirius hurt? Or one of the others?

[the-darker-path]

It was rather surreal to see Taylor's face, to hear her voice, while he was here in his childhood room. Malfoy Manor had always been a cold place--he really was beginning to suspect it of carrying multiple ancestral curses--but before last year, Draco had considered that to be a matter of austerity.

After Riddle took residence, its harsh reality was far more clear. But Taylor seemed to be a natural force against the monster, her presence as warming just by magical communication as it was in person.

Her question of aesthetics made Draco scoff. "While yes, the attire style is very distinctly familial, no, I would never look right in bright colors. When it comes to red hues, I may manage your jewel and berry tones, but you Gryffindors....your crimson is quite something else. It suits your dark skin and hair, certainly."

Everything suited her. Draco could not understand how anyone in the world considered it less attractive to be darker, because Taylor was the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen. Those curls.

He winced a little at the valid counter point, wincing and laughing a little. "...okay, perhaps Severus has been indulgent with me," Draco allowed. "Maybe I can address that with him....I mean, it might be too obvious if things changed drastically, but at the very least he doesn't need to be a twat."

Taylor mentioning Sirius reminded him of his cousin's plight, sobering Draco again. "Fair....I wonder." Draco frowned, mind racing. "I wonder if there's any feasible way of my visiting. Though I guess he's not without family, you do have Tonks." Draco smiled ruefully. "I saw your face just then, but if I'm honest, it's more bearable having that toad bitch simpering thinking I'm on her side than it is tip-toeing around him. I guess it's trading one type of cage for another. Merlin, I can't wait to see you again."

Gods, but her laughter was beautiful. Even when it was a bit sarcastic, it was such a lovely, musical sound….Draco felt a longing to hear her laugh every day of his life, to make sure that she did, and…even more strangely, it didn’t seem too intense or alarming to feel that way.

All my love, indeed.

“Yes, he finds them regal,” Draco replied, laughing. “But if I’m honest with you, I’m nearly certain that it’s–well, not to get far too analytical with you, but I must.” He nestled into his bed on his own side, propping the mirror up to continue talking to her without discomforting his arm. “My grandfather Abraxas kept them too, and I’d assume he inherited it from his father. I can’t help assuming that Father just…didn’t break his bonds, deviate from expectation and ‘duty,’ as I have, so things like all black clothes and long hair and peacock-keeping is just the Malfoy patriarch image he knows to uphold, you know?”

Draco wondered if Narcissa was going to be sad, when all of this ended, and he did not keep to the Manor. He could stomach saying no to Lucius’ face, but would it grieve her? Or would she agree with him? Would seeing Voldemort defeated finally let her relax and agree that the darkness in the Manor had lasted far too long?

“As for swans, though,” he added, laughing, “I have heard that. Don’t they actually have teeth inside of those monstrous beaks?”

Taylor had a point about Severus’ potential to save him, but he still laughed at her actual words. “’Might’ not like the terrifying American who is the size of a doll and yet somehow packs both literal and verbal punches brutal enough to land him on his arse? My my, I can’t imagine why he would be.” Draco grinned. “And I’m not his favorite, I’m his godson, he feels responsible.”

His smile softened. “Would you come back early to be with me? We can plan lessons. Won’t even get frisky, I promise.”

[the-darker-path]

“Not inside, do you hear?”

-“Wouldn’t dream of it, Granger”

A/N: he would and he does.