Little Memories

“This time apart, Charlotte, is nearly killing me, and I have no idea how to cope with your absence. I’ve realized that I depend on you so much to get me through this hell that we’ve been forced into. I just…” Draco paused and looked up from the paper staring ahead at the bookshelves in front of him as he thought through what he should write. Footsteps echoed through the corridor in front of his room and hastily, he grabbed the few sheets of parchment from the top of his desk and shoved it into a drawer. He then took his wand and waved it over the handle, enchanting it so that only he could open it. There were words written on those papers that would surely merit death if they fell into the hands of the wrong people.

There was a rapping at his door and he stood, his wand at his side, and walked over to it. As he pulled open the door, he notice his mother standing just beyond it, nervously wringing her hands. She was dressed in clothes befitting a blizzard and leather gloves despite the fact it was the middle of the summer. Draco’s brow furrowed as he stared at her, waiting for her to speak.

“The…” Her voice faltered a bit and she paused, clearing her throat. “The Dark Lord wishes us to pick up a few things for the dungeons…to make sure that prisoners kept there will not be able to escape.” Draco merely stared at his mother for a moment, mentally processing all she was saying. He drew in a breath of air through his nose and clenched his fist at his side.

“So…he’s expecting us to keep them here, in our home?” He asked, venom dripping from every word. Narcissa Malfoy just looked at her son in silence before sighing heavily.

“As much as I detest the thought, you know we can’t go against his wishes,” she said softly, staring into the faded grey-blue of Draco’s eyes, noticing that he looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He blinked once and looked away, letting out deep sigh that rid himself of the sudden anger that came over him. “Bellatrix and I will be back within a few hours. We’ve got to go out of England so that no one becomes suspicious.” Draco merely nodded and looked back up at his mother.

“Just…be safe and let me know when you return,” he said softly, trying to hide his all-too-obvious worry. Narcissa Malfoy merely nodded and looked over his face once more before turning and walking down the corridor and away from his room. Draco quietly closed the door behind her and let out a sigh before walking back over to his desk.

Instead of taking out the papers he was writing on, he merely stared blankly ahead, letting his thoughts consume him for the moment. He hated the way that wretched man had forced himself into their lives and now into their home. Draco suddenly found himself thankful that he was going to Hogwarts again this year, his final year there, and that the man’s presence wouldn’t constantly torment him there. Of course, with what he’d heard, a few Death Eaters would be presently teaching at Hogwarts, so he would have to be mindful of what he did or said.

Draco let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingertips through his hair, staring off emotionlessly at the nameless books in front of him. He could tell Charlotte was getting weak, that she was getting tired and restless. He could feel it in his heart and his bones, but mostly his heart. It felt heavy in his chest at times and occasionally it would give an awry thump in his chest. It scared him and comforted him at the same time. He knew she wasn’t well, but at the same time, he knew that she wasn’t dead.

He bit his bottom lip at that thought and pulled out the parchment he was writing on, wanting to keep his mind away from what would happen to him if she died. He got chills as his heart continued to speed up and slow down involuntarily and his hand clutched futilely at his chest. He remained still until it passed, fearing what was happening with Charlotte at the moment. He sat with a quill in his fingertips and stared at the paper for a few minutes before beginning to write again. Draco filled up three sheets of parchment, front and back, in the time that his mother and aunt were away.

That night, he lay in his bed, staring blankly up at the shadows the trees outside his room and the moonlight cast on his ceiling. He wondered what Charlotte was thinking and if she were thinking of him. He wondered if she could see the moonlight in Azkaban or if she were even awake. His eyes slowly drifted shut, finally succumbing to three nights without a blink of sleep.

He woke up to a burning hot pain in his chest and he gasped loudly, sitting up suddenly. Draco’s breathing was labored and erratic and his forehead was dripping with sweat. His hand clasped at his chest, thinking that it was something on his skin that was causing the pain. When his hit the warm skin of his chest, he realized the pain was coming from within his chest. He swallowed hard as he stared blankly ahead, focusing on the unsteady murmurs of his heart and wondering what this meant.

Before he had time to full comprehend what was going on, his heart completely went still. It gave a few hard, heaving thuds beneath his ribcage before resuming it’s normal, scheduled pattern of soft thumps. His eyes widened as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to keep the worst of thoughts from entering his mind. He didn’t want to think that Charlotte had just succumbed to death, as those in Azkaban do. He knew that she was stronger than that, and that she wouldn’t go down without more of a fight. Draco realized that she must have just been seriously ill, sick enough that she needed some sort of medical attention.

He convinced himself to the best of his ability that Charlotte was merely sick, despite the tiny part of him that believed worse, as he lay back down into his bed. Draco took in a deep breath as he stared off at the opposite side of the room, trying to keep the tears from his eyes and his body from trembling from how cold the room seemed to him. “She’s just sick, Draco,” he told himself as he closed his eyes, pressing his head harder into the goose down pillow beneath his head, “she’ll be back soon enough and will be completely better.”