If your memories do stray


Draco woke slowly, stretching and reaching for her only to find her side of the bed cold and empty. His eyes slowly scanned the unfamiliar room. They’d only arrived late last night in Mahansar, India, one of the safe havens his mother had set up for him long ago. Narayan Niwas Castle masqueraded as a Muggle hotel though in fact it was a wizarding establishment and always had been. He and the somber redhead he spotted just outside the open doors had fled Britain. There was nothing left for either of them in Britain no matter which side won the war; both of them had been betrayed, utterly and completely. Closing his eyes, Draco attempted to push aside the memories of bloodied battlefields and all the treachery inherent within them. He couldn’t allow himself to weaken now, not mentally, not when he had someone depending on him as much as he depended on her. Their relationship had been born out of desperation, the need to find someone- anyone- that understood what it felt like to be let down by the only people they’d ever trusted. Snape, the Golden Trio, the Weasley family, even the bloody Order of the Phoenix had failed both of them; too busy trying to beat back the threat of the Dark Lord to notice that two of their members were slowly fading.

They’d ignored one another the first year after she’d finished Hogwarts and both of them had become a full members of the Order. It hadn’t been until the day he’d come across her on the battlefield arguing with one of her many brothers that they’d called a truce of sorts. Her family hadn’t wanted her fighting and most of the Order had felt it too risky for him to be there. From that day on, they’d fought side-by-side, protecting each other. If he were honest with himself, they’d not have survived much longer they way they’d both been going. He knew he’d had a death wish by that point. Rushing headlong into battle hadn’t been the most Slytherinish ideas he’d ever had, but it was working- numbing him to the loss of all but one of his childhood mates. He’d seen each of them fall or disappear. Only Blaise had managed to escape Britain, and he hadn't been heard from again. Draco wished it didn't have to be that way.

He pushed upright with one hand, careful not to move too quickly and risk re-injuring himself, his other shoving his fringe out of his face. It had been far too long since he’d had the time for a trim. He pushed aside the memories of why it had been so long before they engulfed him, broke him mentally. It was the only way he functioned enough to provide support to Ginny. She was as lost and broken as he was. He had to help her. She’d saved him too many times to count- he couldn’t fail her now. Not when she’d not said more than three words at a time in the week since they’d fled.

“Ginny?” He slid from the bed, clad in the pyjama-like trousers he’d been given last night upon arrival, and leaned on one of the arches that separated the bed from the rest of the room. Thakur Maheshwar and his wife Lakshmi had been waiting to greet them personally since they helped to run the underground refugee network. He and Ginny had been ushered into the castle and directly into baths before a mixture of magical and Muggle healing had been used.

She turned; the striking green sari and choli only accentuated her fragile beauty and the slow-healing wounds they hadn’t been able to heal magically. Her big brown eyes were lifeless as she held out her hand, a silent invitation for him to join her outside.

The side of his mouth lifted in a half-hearted smile. He didn’t like seeing her this lost, this broken. He could only pray that that fact that she was up and out of bed without him prompting her was a good sign. He crossed the room slowly, each step aggravating his wounds and took her outstretched hand once he’d stepped through the doors and on to the balcony. “You feeling any better, love?”

She turned, burying her face in his shoulder, trembling as she shook her head and snaked her arms about his waist.

Concerned, he wrapped his arm around her, burying the other in her hair and cradling her head. He was forced to lean on the half wall for support. The battle a week ago had left them nearly as broken physically as they were mentally. “Shh,” he whispered soothingly, kissing the top of her head. “We’re far away from all of that now. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You looked peaceful-” she whispered.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, gently cutting her off. Does she not realize that she’s more important? How can she not?

“I love you,” she said, leaning back, looking him in the eyes.

The unshed tears in her eyes were quickly brushed away. He’d never been able to endure her crying. Each time she did, and there had been many times over the last two years, he felt as if he’d failed her. Gently, he kissed her, only pulling back enough to say, “I love you too. Come back inside with me?”

She nodded, a bit of the life coming back to her eyes. “Can we stay here?”

The soft, hesitant tone cut deep. His Ginny was anything but hesitant. In fact she had once been so bright, so full of life and sass that he’d wondered why she put up with him, how they’d fit so well. He’d have never thought that she would ask him for anything as she usually simply demanded and he went along, utterly and completely amused by her. The question in and of itself was a sign that her melancholy was slowly fading. Each stop they’d made, he had asked if she wanted to stop, to stay and make a new life. Each time she’d simply shook her head and climbed into his lap, sobbing. “You want to stay here?”

She turned in his arms, one hand resting on the one he still had about her waist and the other motioning towards the panoramic view. The landscape was almost desolate, the dirt roads, small box-like homes, and vivid green trees were as different from Britain as they were likely to get without traveling all the way to a rain forest. He could see why she would like it here even if part of him was screaming how dirty, disgusting, and downright unappealing it was. The castle was beautiful, in a quaint way, but nothing like the opulence he’d grown up surrounded by. If he were honest, it had been at least three years since he’d really had anything to do with the upper echelon of wizarding society. He realized that he didn’t actually miss it. How could he miss empty chatter, boring dinner parties, and politics when he had Ginny?

Ginny tipped her head back, her eyes pleading with him to agree. He knew that until they settled somewhere and began building a new life- their life together- that the haunted look wouldn’t leave her eyes.

“If you truly want to stay here, then of course we can.”

She smiled brilliantly, the first true smile he’d seen in months. We’ll be just fine, was all he could think as he turned and led her back into the room, helping her with the step up from the balcony into the room, always cautious of her injuries. He turned, pulling the doors closed, letting loose of her just for a moment, his eyes scanning the sky out of habit, doing one last check for Death Eaters that may have followed them. It wasn’t likely since he could count on one hand the number of survivors, including himself and Ginny. At each stop, they’d inquired about the situation in Britain and none of it was good. Anarchy reigned now that the Ministry and Wizengamot had been disbanded. Well, he amended, disbanded wasn’t as accurate as ‘totally and completely annihilated’.

“Draco?”

Now isn’t the time to think on the past, he thought. He flipped the lock and turned, smiling. “It’s good to see that smile.”

Ginny shrugged, taking his hand and leaning into his side. “A new start.”

He felt a weight lift. He knew deep down that they would never be the same people they were even six months ago. They’d survived a civil war that had destroyed everything they held dear. It had nearly destroyed them. “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“I just want to lay here, with you,” she admitted, ducking her head, her unbound hair falling over her face as she released his hand and crawled into the bed.

He followed, laying down and carefully pulling her against his side, kissing her shoulder lightly. “I can do that. You will eat later.”

She snuggled closer, turning in his arms and laying her cheek on his chest. Her eyes drifted closed and he thought she was asleep until she said, “Will I ever forget? Will it ever go away?”

He could feel her tears falling, dampening his chest. If I could make it go away, Obliviate the whole war, I would. I can’t , as selfish as that is. You’d forget all about me.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, idly drawing his fingertips along her spine, hoping to settle her. If a Boggart showed up right now, Draco knew what it would be; his greatest fear was being alone, being without Ginny. Feeling immensely guilty, he brushed her hair off of her face. “Why don’t you sleep?”

She started shaking, the tears flowing freely now, even as she curled into him tightly. His heart broke a little. They’d lost so much that there were days that he wondered how either of them kept fighting, kept living.

He smiled as the realization came; they were only able to persevere because of the faith and strength they drew from each other. And as long as they had each other, the sting of all they had lost was lessened.
The End.
Airmid is the author of 3 other stories.
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