Second chance; Second life

Draco lay on the mattress, watching Kay work quickly and quietly on the mattress, by hand.

‘Why don’t you use magic?’ he asked, and she looked up, giving him a soft smile calmly.

‘You never truly appreciate something unless you work at it,’ she replied, and Draco mulled this over quietly. Some of his Father’s words echoed in his ears.

‘Weakness Draco, is death. Love is weakness. Sickness is weakness. Crying is weakness. Fear is weakness. Caring is weakness. You are weak Draco. You must learn to be strong.’ Draco closed his eyes to block the words out, a gasp escaping his lips. Kay was by him in a second.

‘Draco?’ she asked, her hand feeling his forehead to see if his temperature had risen once more. His own reached up and grasped her hand tightly, his eyes managing to focus on her. She was like a beacon among the darkness.

‘Why do I keep hearing him? Feeling him? Why can’t he let me go?’ he asked her, his eyes wide in fear. She said nothing, but hugged him tightly, their hands still clasped together. He buried his face in her soft hair, trying to chase the memories away. She held him for a long time, before pulling back, and applying a soft, damp cloth to his forehead. She sat next to him, looking down with pained eyes at his broken mind.

‘Tell me,’ she whispered gently. Draco’s hand tightened around hers.

‘I don’t know if I can,’ he confided, and heard his Father click his tongue in disgust at his weakness.

‘Try,’ she replied delicately, sitting there. She was like his haven: his thread connecting him to reality than to the past he knew. Draco took a deep breath, and felt courage ripple through him.

‘Your Mother and my Mother knew each other,’ he started. Mikayla didn’t move in shock or surprise, her strength flowing into Draco, who was able to carry on. ‘Your Mother told my Mother that if harm ever came my Mother’s way, she would save e form… him.’ Mikayla nodded. ‘That’s why I called for you. I thought maybe her family would be willing to follow through on her promise.’

‘You thought right,’ Kay answered, and he carried on.

‘I don’t know why your Mother was killed, but Father arrived home in a blinding rage. That day is when it started. He chained Mother up in the dungeons to stop her interfering and tortured me.’ Kay waited patiently, but her stance was growing harder: anger rushing through her. ‘Then he…’ Draco couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say the words. ‘I was five and he took away everything. My childhood, my dreams, my innocence.’ He closed his eyes, thinking maybe he could say it that way, but she reached out, and touched them lightly.
‘Draco? You have to tell me. I can’t help you any other way.’ He nodded, hearing his Father once more.

‘If you reveal any of the secrets that occur in Malfoy Manor, Draco, you will regret it more than death.’ He felt his breathing quicken.

‘He raped me,’ he blurted out, and Kay froze, her eyes fixed on his. ‘Every day for the past eleven years that I have been at home, he has tortured me and raped me. He did it to Mother too, to keep her under control. She tried so hard to keep me safe: she’d send me away, or only have me home when he was away, but she couldn’t. He destroyed her. She truly loved me, and she apologised every time she washed the blood from me, and I forgave her each time. Then, she gave me this.’ He pulled the locket from under his T-shirt. ‘That night, he killed her.’ He closed his eyes, seeing his Mother’s body hanging limply form the chains in the dungeon. ‘I found a letter form your Mother to mine in the locket making that promise, and I tried to find out who she was, and whether she could save me. I found she was dead. Then I found out about you, and asked you for help. And you came. You rescued me.’ He stared at the ceiling, and felt something lift. The pressure he had been carrying on him since that day when he was five was gone. He’d finally told someone. He was no longer alone. Kay bowed her head in silence, digesting all he had told her, and creating a resolve. Her Mother had made a promise to save this boy if possible. But even if she hadn’t, Mikayla would have rescued him anyway. The one person he’d loved had been torn away. He was alone in the world, a bit like her. There was a lot she’d need to teach him, but she didn’t care. She could try. She had to try. She lifted her head, and smiled at him as she met his silver eyes. He looked so little and lost as she had once been. She reached out, and ran a finger slowly down his cheekbone and over his jaw.

‘Thank you,’ she spoke tenderly, as if she knew noise would frighten him of like a cautious rabbit. He frowned.

‘For what?’ she smiled kindly.

‘For telling me; for dropping the mask.’ He looked into her dark eyes, and felt tears form in his own.

‘What am I going to do?’ he asked her quietly, for once at a total loss. She lifted his head with her forefinger, and their gazes locked once more. She bent down, and kissed his forehead so lightly he barely felt it, but warmth stole through him inexplicably.

‘Heal,’ she replied.

Draco watched her later, flying on Priya and Tru around the valley, laughing at some of the antics she did to keep him amused. He felt better after telling her everything, and felt the Sun warm him gently. She came back to sit next to him and they gazed out over the quiet beauty of nature.

‘It never stops hurting, does it?’ he asked quietly. ‘You never get over their death, so you?’ she shook her head.

‘No. you’ll always think of her; you’ll always miss her. But she’s not gone Draco.’ He looked at her, and she reached out. ‘Her body’s gone, but she’s living right here.’ She tapped his chest above his heart, and looked back out over the valley. ‘You’re not alone Draco,’ she reminded him. ‘You’ve got me now.’ words faded, for there was no need for them anymore. He leaned against her, feeling her strength and support like a rock: his rock. And slowly, but surely, he began to heal.