The Beauty of Grey: The Bitterness Inside

Chapter 11 – Holding Several Thoughts

“Tricking us in, don't get along if they're brothers
So phasing it out, correcting vision with fists
And drawing a line, still give it less than a week
Checking the wounds, thinking of adding another”
- ‘Another Know It All’ - Chevelle


Draco woke the next morning, Friday, feeling well rested, feeling quite happy. He should have known, however, that it was not meant to last. He was summoned to Dumbledore’s office during breakfast. He made his way curiously there just after nine. He knocked on the door. He had been in the office before, but only twice.

‘Come in,’ came the old voice of the Headmaster.

Draco entered, knowing that this could not be good.

‘Good morning, Draco,’ Dumbledore said.

‘Morning, sir,’ Draco replied.

‘Please sit,’ Dumbledore waved at a chair.

Draco sat down, folded his arms and held his breath.

‘What happened to Professor Umbridge?’ he asked, perplexed.

‘She is currently in the infirmary,’ Dumbledore explained.

Draco nodded. ‘So you’re back? As Headmaster?’

‘Yes,’ he smiled at Draco.

‘Okay,’ Draco said benignly, not wanting to show his relief.

‘Draco,’ Dumbledore began, looking at him over his half-moon glasses. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
Draco’s stomach clenched. ‘What happened, sir?’

‘Last night, your father was one of many who broke into the Department of Mysteries,’ Dumbledore said. Draco let his head fall forwards into his hands. ‘He was captured and is currently in Azkaban.’

‘Azkaban?’ Draco asked.

‘Yes.’

Draco nodded. ‘So, what happened there? At the Department of Mysteries?’ he asked, because he needed to know whether the mission failed or not.

‘Draco, I cannot give you all the information. I can tell you, however, that with the help of Mr. Potter it is now publically known that Lord Voldemort,’ - Draco flinched –,’has returned.’

Draco should have known that Potter would have something do to with this. He saw that Dumbledore looked tired, looked worried, and for a moment he had pity for the man that he was taught to distrust by his father and the position he was in.

‘Thank you, Professor,’ Draco said, getting up. ‘For telling me.’

‘Of course,’ Dumbledore almost sighed.

The mission failed, he was certain. The Dark Lord did not get whatever it was that he wanted. He was bound to be furious, and Draco knew very well who would bear the brunt of the wrath.

He left the office, and as he walked as calmly as he could back to the Slytherin common room, he felt anger bubbling up inside of him. It felt like it was taking over his entire body. He was angry at his the Dark Lord for ruining his life, at his father for letting it happen, at Potter for not doing his heroic duty sooner, at Dumbledore because he didn’t extend the same hand of help to him than he did to Potter! He knew, without a shadow of a doubt that this holiday was going to be horrifying.

Draco knew that he had the weekend left at Hogwarts. On Saturday morning he was convinced by Blaise to spend a little time outside. He was leaving the dungeons, along with Crabbe and Goyle to meet Blaise who was already outside, entering the Entrance Hall when he saw Potter. Instantly his anger was aflame again. He looked around for witnesses.

‘You're dead, Potter,’ he said, trying to sound as angry as he felt.

Potter looked at him with a mocking expression. ‘Funny,’ he said, ‘you’d think I’d have stopped walking around...’

Draco’s anger just got worse at Potter’s scathing tone. ‘You're going to pay,’ Draco said softly, ‘I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father…’

‘Well, I'm terrified now. I suppose Lord Voldemort's just a warm-up act compared to you three - what's the matter? He's a mate of your dad, isn't he? Not scared of him, are you?’ Potter remarked as all three of them flinched at the Dark Lord’s name.

‘You think you're such a big man, Potter,’ Draco said walking towards Potter. ‘You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison-‘

‘I thought I just had,’ Potter interrupted him.

‘The Dementors have left Azkaban. Dad and the others will be out in no time,’ he said quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

‘Yeah, I expect they will,’ Potter said. ‘Still, at least everyone knows what scumbags they are now-‘
Draco went for his wand immediately, but Potter was pointing his wand at him before he could get his out.
‘Potter!’ came the voice of Snape. ‘What are you doing, Potter?’

‘I'm trying to decide what curse to use on Malloy, sir,’ Potter let out cockily.

‘Put that wand away at once,’ Snape snapped. ‘Ten points from Gryff-‘ Snape looked at the hourglasses. ‘Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to –‘

‘Add some more?’ came the voice of Professor McGonagall who was entering the castle with a bag and a walking stick in each hand. She seemed to be alright.

‘Professor McGonagall!’ Snape said, making a move towards her, for a moment looking like he wanted to help her with her luggage, but thought better of it. ‘Out of St Mungo's, I see!’

‘Yes, Professor Snape,’ said Professor McGonagall, taking off the travelling cloak she was wearing, ‘I'm quite as good as new. You two - Crabbe - Goyle –‘

Both of them walked towards her unsurely.

‘Here,’ she said, holding the bag out to Crabbe and her cloak to Goyle. ‘Take these up to my office for me.’
They left without complaint.

‘Right then,’ McGonagall said also noticing the empty Gryffindor hourglass. ‘Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?’

‘What?’ Snape asked shocked for a moment then he resigned. ‘Oh - well - I suppose…’

‘So that's fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom and Miss Granger,’ McGonagall counted off watching the hourglass fill. ‘Oh - and fifty for Miss Lovegood, I suppose. Now, you wanted to take ten from Mr Potter, I think, Professor Snape - so there we are…’

‘Well, Potter, Malfoy I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this,’ she said and she and Potter took off quickly, Potter going outside and she heading upstairs.

‘Draco, you heard the news, I assume?’ Snape asked discreetly when they had gone.

‘Yes,’ Draco breathed.

‘If you need to talk, you know where to find me,’ Snap said softly, and then turned to leave. He turned around. ‘Draco, be vigilant this holiday,’ he said, implying so much that Draco felt like he might be crushed under the weight of the prospect of what might happen.

He left and sat outside with Blaise. They were lying under a large tree, in the cool shade by the side of the lake.

‘My father was arrested yesterday,’ Draco said to Blaise.

‘Yeah?’ Blaise said, snapping his head to look at Draco.

‘He was caught after sneaking into the Department of Mysteries. Apparently Potter was there too,’ he explained.

‘Yes, I saw the Daily Prophet this morning,’ said Blaise.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Draco asked, instantly angry.

‘It arrived just after you left for your meeting with Dumbledore. He was the one that told you, right?’
‘Yes,’ Draco sighed.

‘I’m sorry, man,’ Blaise said sympathetically.

Then Crabbe and Goyle joined them after delivering McGonagall’s things to her office, and Draco decided it was best to not talk anymore. As he was lying there, half to keep him mind blank, and half to make him feel more secure, he tried to empty his mind, close it off from any outside intruders. He had a feeling that if he wanted to survive this holiday, he had better master Occlumency.


That evening he had arranged to meet Astoria near the Whomping Willow again, but as he was sitting on the steps just outside the large front doors waiting for her, he didn’t feel like meeting her. He didn’t feel like acting like everything was just fine, and he didn’t want to tell her what happened, not after it was so fresh in his mind. But he also dreaded the thought of going home and not having spent as much time with her as he could.

He heard the door softly creak open. She sat down next to him on the steps and then she slid her hand into his, squeezed it tightly and left it at that. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t ask anything. She must have known, it was all over the Prophet, everyone read it, and knew where his father was. Draco looked at her, and saw that she wasn’t even looking at him, scrutinising him, she was looking up at the sky.

They sat together, never leaving for the usual spot, but just sat there, saying nothing. Draco soon became extremely thankful for her presence, for her hand holding his, for her warmth that heated up one side of his body and for her silence.

When Draco felt his eyes starting to drift closed, after hours sitting there, he knew it was time to go to bed. But when he looked at Astoria, he saw that she had leaned back against the door, and was sound asleep, breathing deeply and slowly. Draco felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed a few times, and then gently squeezed the hand he was holding. ‘Astoria,’ he whispered.

Her eyes opened immediately.

‘Let’s go,’ he whispered again, and he stood up, and helped her up after him.

She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, speaking for the first time that night.

‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘Probably about three in the morning.’

She just nodded.

He led the way up the up the stairs once they were back inside, and held her hand all the way up to the Fifth Floor. Before he thought too much about it, or gave her a chance to leave, he pulled her into a tight hug. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered in her ear.

Her arms came around his waist and she hugged him back.

‘Thank you for understanding,’ he said, swallowing at the lump again.

‘Anytime,’ she said.

‘Meet me tomorrow, out by the lookout?’ he asked, referring to the sheer cliff at the back of the castle.

‘Okay,’ she mumbled into his shoulder.

‘After breakfast?’ he asked.

He felt her nod.

They pulled apart, and he kissed her quickly on the lips. ‘Good night,’ he whispered.

‘Night,’ she smiled at him and turned away.

After breakfast the Sunday morning, Draco found her waiting for him.

‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ she smiled.

‘You still tired?’ he asked, noticing her eyes didn’t seem to want to stay open.

‘Very,’ she said.

He sat down with his back against the wall of the castle, and she sat down next to him. When Draco’s legs were stretched out straight they were only about a foot away from the fence. The good thing about that place was that very few students ever went there, almost guaranteeing them a little privacy.

‘Here,’ Draco said, holding out the box of chocolates that his mother had sent him a few days ago.
She took it, but she took it slowly, her hand seeming unsure whether it should. ‘Thank you,’ she said. 'Can I just say something?'

‘Yes,’ he said.

Draco could see that once again she was choosing her words carefully. ‘I know what happened,’ she stated. ‘And I also know you don’t want to talk about it, but, you can,’ she said looking back at him again. ‘If you want to.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

She seemed satisfied, having said what she wanted to say.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Draco asked.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘When I didn’t show up in the library on Thursday, what did you think?’ he asked.

She blushed shyly, looking down. ‘I thought,’ she took a deep breath. ‘I couldn’t help but think that you regretted kissing me.’

Draco grimaced. ‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘You were acting really shy again, like you did in the beginning when we first started talking.’

She tilted her head. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I didn’t.’

‘Didn’t what?’

‘Didn’t regret kissing you,’ he said feeling the need to tell her. ‘I have been thinking about kissing you for a very long time.’

She blushed brilliantly, but she didn’t look away. ‘Well, I was kind of wishing that you would.’

‘Well,’ Draco laughed softly. ‘If I knew that...’

He kissed her, just a simple brush of his lips against hers.

Draco could see that she was burning to ask him about his father and the article in the Daily Prophet. But she didn’t, she just stayed with him, and offered him exactly what he wanted; someone to listen if he needed to talk, someone to who didn’t ask questions.

‘My father was arrested,’ he said. ‘Thursday evening, he was caught in the Ministry, and he along with a few others was arrested. My father is in Azkaban.’

She seemed a little shocked at the sudden admission. ‘I read it in the Prophet,’ she said, not pressing any further.

‘You know that my father is a Death Eater,’ he whispered.

She nodded.

‘Well, he was there doing something for... You-Know-Who,’ he said deciding against calling him the Dark Lord. ‘It seems like Potter was there too. I’m not exactly sure of what happened. Dumbledore wouldn’t even tell me everything, but only said that now it will be publically known that You-Know-Who has returned to full power, although he has been for a year.’

‘So you are worried about your father in jail?’ she asked. ‘The Prophet said that the Dementors have left, they refuse to stay there anymore,’ she said carefully. ‘That must make it a bit more bareable.’

‘Yes,’ Draco said. ‘It does. But it’s not him I’m worried about.’ He turned to her, making sure she understood that what he was saying was serious. ‘I’m worried about my mother, because I don’t know what will happen to her without my father to protect her from the other Death Eaters, and You-Know-Who himself. I’m worried about myself because I have to go back to that house tomorrow, and face whatever is waiting there for me. I’m terrified.’

She took his hands, almost absent-mindedly, never really looking away.

‘I’m worried about you,’ he admitted.

‘About me?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘I don’t know what will happen now that everyone knows that You-Know-Who is back. He will probably come out of hiding and start acting very much like himself. He could send his Death Eaters out on attacks.’

He could see as a shiver ran down her back, her eyes large and fearful. He didn’t say that he was terrified that somewhere someone would look into his mind and see that she means a lot to him, and use it against him.
‘No one knows,’ she said. ‘It could happen to anyone now.’ She was squeezing his hands, but he didn’t think she aware.

‘Yes, I guess,’ he sighed.

She kissed him this time on the corner of his mouth. ‘Stop worrying so much, it’s not going to help.’

‘Promise me something, though?’ he said, almost apologetically. ‘You run if there’s ever any trouble, okay?’

She let out a breath with a small smile. ‘I promise.’

‘Good. And, you can’t tell anyone about this,’ he said. ‘About us.’

‘I know,’ she said.

‘You do?’

‘You have an arranged marriage with someone else; I kind of figured it out.’

‘Especially anyone in Slytherin and your sister.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘Everything,’ he said, hoping he wasn’t placing her in danger.

‘It’ll be okay, you know,’ she said.

‘I hope so,’ he breathed.

They spent the entire Sunday there, eating the Turow’s Chocolatiers chocolates. When it came time to go to dinner, Draco felt uneasy, and panic was beginning to rise in him. He said goodbye to her there, kissing her thoroughly, reminding her to be careful, and promising to visit sometime over the holiday if at all possible.

On the way back to King’s Cross station on the Hogwarts Express, Draco felt utterly miserable. He sat in the compartment, sulking, staring out of the window at the landscape flashing by while Pansy had made herself comfortable very close to him. He dreaded the look on his mother’s face when she saw him, he dreaded to hear about what had happened. He dreaded all the other Death Eaters that would undoubtedly be walking around his house now that his father was gone, like they owned the place. He would have ran away, he would have asked Dumbledore if he could stay at Hogwarts, or he would have taken his trunk and went into hiding, somewhere anywhere if it wasn’t for his mother. He couldn’t leave her there to look after herself. Draco knew that his father would have done anything to protect his mother, but now he was gone, and Draco felt responsible for her.

‘Hey, Malfoy,’ Crabbe said. ‘I think now would be a good time to get Potter. There are no teachers on this train, and I don’t want to leave wait an entire holiday before I can get back at him.’

Draco, who was on the edge all the time these last three days, decided that it might be a good idea after all. Since his father and Crabbe’s father was caught because of Potter, Draco was surprised when Goyle

joined them. They stood watch by the door, knowing that Potter would have to go to the bathroom some time, and when he did, they stormed out of the compartment they were in. Draco just wanted to throw a Jelly-Legs Charms or something equally harmless, after all, Potter couldn’t defeat Draco’s worst nightmare if he was seriously injured. But before they had even thrown an odd word at Potter, a group of Ravenclaws, that did not include Astoria or Kim, burst out from their compartment, throwing Hexes, Curses and Jinxes at them, at then he could remember no more.

‘Draco?’ came the scared voice of his mother.

He woke up startled, sitting bolt upright in the middle of the aisle on the train.

‘Oh, Draco,’ his mother cried. ‘What happened?’

‘Potter,’ Draco said with a snarl. ‘What happened to me?’ he repeated his mother’s question.

‘Oh, Darling, you were a slug, or a snail. But you are alright now,’ he grabbed him, and hugged him very tight. He hugged her back.

‘How are you, mother?’ he asked.

‘I’m doing alright,’ she said smiling weakly. ‘How are you?’

Draco bit down, ‘I’m fine, mother.’



A/N: Thank you for reading this story to the end. :)