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damn-stark · 3 years

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Ch.21 Heartache

Chapter 21 of Different light

A/N- let me know what you thought :)

Warning- Angst, some fluff, some swearing, cliffhanger of sorts.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Your entire body freezes at the edge of the borrowed bed, and your eyes remain stuck on Harry for a long moment as your mind remembers what happened the night prior.

For whatever reason he didn’t seem upset at the sight of you. Harry seemed relieved to see you wake up under the same roof as him. For whatever reason. And as much joy as your heart began to feel upon seeing him, as much as you wanted to hug him and kiss him, you remained stuck to your spot. Instead panic and worry began to plague your mind.

You pull your eyes away from Harry and shake your head. “I can’t be here. My family will be looking for me.” You whisper in a panicked voice. “They’ll be worried and find all of you. I can’t be here.”

You swallow thickly and stand up, the commotion that you made waking up the twins, and Hermione. It took them a few minutes to focus on what was going on due to the grogginess they were under, but once they noticed the tension, and the stress you were under they became worried and seemed to fully wake up.

“You can’t leave just yet,” Fred tried to assure you.

You shake your head and walk back to the end table, trying to search for a wand hidden in your sleeve, but as you tuck your hand inside your sleeve and search for the wooden wand with your fingers, there's nothing that stands out. Harry notices what you tried to do and answers the question that looms in your head. “They took it. But you don’t have to worry, y/n, no ones going to hurt you.”

“No,” you mutter as you lift your gaze and meet his. “You don’t understand, if they find me, they’ll hurt everyone here. They’ll hurt you.” You say while you inch towards the window inside the room just a feet away. “I can’t be the cause of that. So please let me go, I promise I won’t say anything.”

“Y/N, listen,” Hermione chimes in as she and the three boys watch you stop beside the window, knowing your intention before you could even reach the window and letting you try to accomplish it.

And once you reach the side of the window and turn your body to face the window, you throw open the curtains and open said window to turn into black smoke to escape. But once you reach your hand out the window, your palms hit some invisible wall. “What the,” you whisper through gritted teeth before you pull your hands back to hit the invisible wall again.

“It’s for your protection, and ours,” Hermione answered, her comment making you stop your attempts to break it and stay with your hands pressed against the invisible wall. Hermione walked up behind you and gently grabbed your shoulder. “We didn’t want to do it, but well, some people in the order don’t trust you.”

“Yeah,” you nod in comprehension whilst you slowly drop your hands to your side and tear your eyes from the sweet morning sky outside the window. “I understand, but I still can’t be here, please understand that.”

“They won’t find you here,” you hear George speak up to try and assure you as well. “They put up hundreds of cloaking, and protection spells.”

“Yes,” Fred continued for his brother. “You won’t be safer anywhere else but here. We promise. They won’t find you unless you leave the protective bubble around the property.”

A deep exhale leaves your lips, and your shoulders drop a bit as some weight is lifted from them. It still didn’t mean you were relaxed, or completely relieved, but there was room enough for you to breathe fresh air and not suffocate under the fear and stress that Voldemort caused. There was a tiny bit of space where you could enjoy seeing the morning sky and bask in the warmth from the sun rays that gently peeked inside the window.

“You all swear that it’s fine?” You ask as you turn to face them all, noticing in that moment, the bandage around George's head and the patch on his ear. “I don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

Harry nods and steps towards you. “You helped Fred, you saved him from getting hurt. You might still be a Death-Eater, but you’re a good person.”

Your lips twitch, but you can’t make yourself smile seeing that George is hurt, it makes your heart sink and your lips fall to a small frown. He seemed to notice and quickly assured you. “It wasn’t you, so don’t go blaming yourself now.”

His words travel through your ears, but you have a hard time registering them in your head. You knew you didn’t directly hurt him, that you didn’t directly hurt anyone else affected by last night's attack but the people fully responsible were part of the same order as you. You were out there too. So in some ways you hurt them too.

Which reminded you. You did actually hurt someone—killed someone. Shit.

Now your head began to pound, and your stomach churned and made you nauseous. The one thing you didn’t want to do, happened, and it was someone from your order too. As bad as they were, they were still human.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asks beside you as she tightens her hold around your shoulder.

You snap from your stupor and look over to her and nod. “Yeah, I’m just sore now.” You offer her a faint smile and she returns it before she suddenly pulls you in for a tight embrace that leaves you surprised for a few seconds. “Oh.” You mouth as you stand stiff for a couple seconds more before Fred and George join the hug. After that you pick up your hands and try your best to wrap them around the three of them. You continue to close your eyes as you feel your heart flutter with happiness. It was such a small moment, but you relished in it even if Harry failed to join.

But you understood why he wouldn't. Before the others could question him or pull him in, a knock sounds on the door and then seconds later an older woman with the same bright red hair as Fred and George walks in with a plate of breakfast in hand; Molly Weasley.

“Oh you’re awake,” she directs to you as she sets the plate down on the desk beside the window. “Good. Here’s some warm breakfast, you must be starving.”

You all pull away from the hug and you watch her take some distance away from you once the plate is set down. You frown at that but don’t let them see. “Thank you,” you smile, “I appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome.” Her eyes turn to the other three and she points out the door. “Breakfast is on the table, let’s go before it gets cold. Let the girl have some space.”

None of them argue and leave the room with Harry lagging behind before he stopped by the door after everyone had disappeared down the hall. “I’ll be back,” he assures you and you respond with a single nod as his eyes linger on you for a second before he walks out and closes the door after him, leaving you completely alone in the room. You walk towards the desk and pick the plate off the surface, admiring the plate and feeling your mouth water at all the warm and delicious food on it. Deciding not to let it go cold you sit back down on the edge of the bed and begin to eat the food with a child-like smile on your face that is quick to fade away as you hear the happy commotion downstairs.

There was a bit of laughter, high risen voices that gave no indication that anyone was arguing, or angry. There was no one they feared to keep the breakfast table quiet and uncomfortable, there were no unwanted visitors who overstay their welcome to make the meal awkward. From the muffled sounds you could hear from where you sat, they all sounded like they were enjoying each other’s company, they were being the family they were even with what threatened them. Hearing that made you miss your family even if it was just a day without them….or really you missed the dynamic you had before the war began. Sure your father could be seen as cold, but he was a caring father in his own way.

You’ve only now realized that as you sat in the room alone, watching the gold tall wheat that surrounded the home. But then again, was he even your real father? He’s never treated you differently so it was hard to figure out if you really wanted to find out. Yes you were in the middle of an investigation, but did you really want to find out the truth?

Yes…No—you set the plate down on your lap and run your hands down your face to then let out a deep sigh. “By Merlin's beard this all makes my head hurt.” You cup your face and close your eyes to stay in the darkness for a moment before the door begins to slowly creak open. You open your eyes and look up from your hands to see Harry poking his head inside. “May I come in?”

You set your hands around your plate and nod. “You basically are in,” you scoff in a lighthearted manner, “so yes please do come in.”

Said boy pushes the door open wider, and steps inside to then close the door behind him before he walks further in and stops in front of the window. He stood quiet for a couple moments after, his eyes averting yours as you stayed sitting on the bed with your half eaten food on your plate. Perhaps he was waiting for you to finish, or he just couldn’t find a way to speak up, but you broke the tension first. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?” You smirk and set your plate down on the end table. “Breakfast is important for a growing man such as yourself, you know?

Harry scoffs and a faint smile tugs on his lips. “Really?” He played along, “I didn’t know, thank you.” He looks up and leans back to press his back on the window sill as he meets your gaze. “I ate some, I couldn't come up here if I didn’t. Did you enjoy breakfast? I mean I know it’s nothing you’re used to.” He snickers.

You grin and shrug. “Yeah, it’s not freshly made breakfast from Paris, or my private island, but it will suffice. I’ll definitely tell my personal chef about my meal.”

Harry’s smile turns to a toothy grin before he begins to laugh, having you join him seconds later. It’s such a brief moment, but it’s sweet and it’s one you knew you’d look back at once you returned home. And once the laughter died down, and your smiles turned faint, you stood up and joined him in front of the window, unlike him however, you faced fields outside. You admired how quiet it was out here in this secluded place in the middle of nowhere, how peaceful it seemed with no neighbors for miles, and how beautiful it looked as the sun blazed in the sky and over the field, making them shine a brighter gold. It was lovely, truly, but it didn’t keep the gloomy and dreadful thoughts and topics away.

“Harry,” you whisper as your smile falls to a frown. “I’m sorry.” You rest your arms down on the window sill as you lean forward and hesitate to continue, instead you watch the sunbeams dance on your fingers as you move them very carefully. “About,” you pause and sigh out deeply, from the corner of your eye watching him turn his body to face the window and shift his eyes to look at you. “…what happened to Dumbledore. I know how much he meant to you, and I’m sorry that Voldemort killed him.” You lift your head and slightly turn to meet his intense gleaming blue eyes.

“It was Snape,” Harry corrected you with a hint of anger lacing in his voice. “Not Voldemort, not you, not Draco, Snape. He killed Dumbledore.”

Your eyes roam his face and your lips part, but nothing comes out but silence. Your heart sinks and the sadness within you grows deeper. You want to argue against Harry. You want to defend Snape because he only did it because of your own failure to complete the mission, but you knew that Snape was a traitor in Harry’s eyes. You’d be angry too.

“Still,” you breathe out whilst you drop your gaze to Ron taking things outside his house. “I’m sorry. Not only about that but that I lied. I didn’t tell you the whole truth of my intentions and I’m sorry.”

Harry nods in comprension and follows your line of vision, watching Ron struggle to take barrels out. “I understand why you didn’t…I mean I was angry at first,” he admits, making you snap your eyes back to him. “…But I came to understand why you wouldn’t say anything. You couldn’t,” Harry pauses and slowly lifts his eyes to again meet yours, sharing a pity you saw clearly in his eyes. “I heard what Draco and you said on that tower, I understand why you wouldn't say a word. Voldemort would’ve hurt you if you did. Which is why I can’t be angry at you.” Harry reaches for your arm and pulls your sleeve to see the brand on your arm. “You didn’t want that burden. But you have no choice. I…understand a thing or two of burdens.”

His words sting like a hot dagger to your heart. They hurt to hear. But they also made you feel a spark of happiness. You weren’t alone in your burden, you knew that, but hearing that Harry didn’t hate you like you thought he did made your heart jump with a bit of joy—“thank you,” you whispered with a crack in your voice. “For understanding.” You grab his hand that was on yours before you rest your head on his shoulder and bask in the silence that blanketed over the both of you.

In the silence Harry slightly shifts his head to press a kiss on the side of your head, before he presses his forehead against yours and releases a soft relieved breath of air as he feels your hand caress his cheek after you lifted your hand to cup his cheek. He finds solace in your touch and in the comfortable silence, taking this time to burn this moment in his memory, not knowing if a shared moment like this could be your last. He didn’t want it to be, but he couldn’t be hopeful about what he wanted.

And after a while of nothing but silence, he spoke up about it. “You don’t have to go. You can stay now that we have you here.”

“Harry,” you exhale deeply, shutting your eyes for a painful moment. “You know I can’t stay, I have to go back to my family. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did stay.”

Harry pulls away and even if it upset him, he understood. “I just needed to ask once. Which reminds me,” his lips twitch and he steps back to lean back on the desk as he shoves his hand into his sweater pocket. “I need to show you something.” He pulls his fist out of his pocket and grabs your hand from your side to place a small locket on your palm.

When you look at the gem and design of the necklace your eyes widen and your whole body stiffens, your gaze flickers from the locket to Harry in disbelief at what he placed down on your hand. “Is this the Slytherins locket? The horcrux Voldemort is looking for?” You pick the locker in between your thumb and pointer finger and lift it to examine it better, noticing that something looked off. “Wait,” your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow. “This—”

“It’s a fake,” Harry finished for you as he went to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I noticed. Dumbledore and I went through all that struggle to find a fake locket that I can’t even open.”

You pull your eyes from the locket and look at him with a baffled expression. “What do you mean?” You inquire.

“I can’t open it.” Harry repeats himself. “I hear something inside, but I can’t open it to see what it is.”

“Hmm.” You move your thumb to the small latch on the side to try and see if maybe you could do something, and as you press your thumb on the side something sharp pokes the pad of your thumb that takes a drop of blood and turns the gem green before the locket opens. “Harry!” You run to sit by his side and hand him the opened locket that contained a folded piece of paper.

“How did you do it?” Harry mused with an impressed look on his face.

You lift your thumb and began sucking the stinging area as little drops of blood kept coming out of the wound that thing made. “I don’t know,” you shrug, “it stabbed my thumb and once it took out some blood the gem turned green and it opened.”

“It happened to me a few times when I tried, but I never got it to open.” Harry meets your gaze, but he doesn’t add anything else, you were both equally as confused and equally as clueless when it came to as to why or how? Instead he continued to pull out the paper and unfold it, revealing instead a short note. “It says, ‘To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.’.”

“R.A.B? who’s that?” You ask yourself outloud.

Harry shrugs and sets the note down on your lap, “don't know. But whoever they are, they have the real Horcrux. Which means it was all a waste.” Harry stands up and let’s out a frustrated sigh as goes back to stand by the window.

“I don’t think so. I mean you found this right? In the place where the actual locket was supposed to be,” you try and assure him as you watch him. “Which means that Voldemort doesn’t know where the locket is, or where it will be.”

Harry looks at you over his shoulder and nods stiffly before the corner of his lips tug to a slight smirk. “You’re right. I can still try to find it before he can.”

“Exactly.” You grin proudly.

“But,” Harry inputs, “I still need to find out who R.A.B is.” He then turns slowly to face you. “Could you maybe try and look for an answer? If you return home?”

You nod without hesitation. “I’ll see what I can find when I do go back home. And if I do I’ll send it with Dobby, I promise.”

*LAST NIGHT*

“Bellatrix! Bellatrix!” Narcissa shouts echoed down the hall as she stormed down to the drawing room where her sister had arrived alone. “Where is she? Where is my daughter?!”

Bellatrix scoffs and shrugs. “We weren’t glued to the hip. I don’t know, it was dark and chaotic.”

Narcissa looked at her sister in disbelief and took a minute to process the words that had come out of her sister. She didn’t want to believe something had happened to you, she couldn’t. “I told you to keep an eye on her.”

“She’s an adult,” Bellatrix argued, “and she’s a good witch, even I have to admit that because the Dark Lord does. The girl probably just ran off.”

Narcissa shook her head and her eyebrows furrowed deeper as she grew more upset. She knew that after a heavy night like this, you wouldn't run off; you were a good girl, you would return to the comfort of your home, you wouldn't just take a stroll. That’s why she couldn’t accept what was said—“no she wouldn't.” Her heart then clenched as she thought of the worst possibility. “What if she’s hurt? Why didn’t you double back to make sure?”

“I’m not her babysitter,” Bellatrix retorted. “Besides, why are you so worried? She isn’t your daughter.”

“She is,” Narcissa protested with anger. “Just because she isn’t my biological daughter does it mean that I love her any less. I cared and raised her for sixteen years. She is my daughter Bellatrix. She’s also still part of the Black family, just like you and I.”

Bellatrix is unimpressed by her sister's speech, she doesn’t argue because she knew Narcissa would simply bite back every time with something more clever. So instead she just rolled her eyes and assured her. “She’ll show up if she was smart enough to survive a simple attack.” Bellatrix giggles before she walks past Narcissa and leaves the room and her sister alone. And that’s when it really set on Narcissa that you could’ve died, she didn’t want to accept that reality, but it could be true and it terrified her. Yes, you might not be her actual daughter but she loved you like one since she saw you for the first time.

That’s why she couldn’t fathom losing you. It’d be like losing a part of herself.

Tears slipped past her eyes and she couldn’t hold them back. She looked up at the family portrait just above the fireplace and your face was lightened by the orange hue of the dancing flames; unlike Draco, herself and Lucius, there was a faint smug smirk tugged on the corner of your lips, and your eyes even if they were painted on, showed the happiness you had once felt. All their eyes showed it. Now they were replaced by sadness and terror. At least yours and Draco’s were.

“Narcissa.” Her husband's voice suddenly echoed in her ears, snapping her from her train of thought.

She pulled her eyes from the portrait and met Lucius' tired gaze. “Have you found something?”

He shakes his head and drops his eyes. “No. But Draco and I are going out to try and search for her.”

Narcissa exhales deeply and a faint hopeful smile tugs on her lips. “Alright, good.” She walks up to Lucius and grabs his hands in hers. “Find her.”

Lucius nods and his gaze twists with determination. “We will. I promise our daughter will return to us alive and well.

——

“Is there anything you could give us?” The Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt repeated the question across the table you were sitting at.

You grab onto your wrist and glance at the black brand on your arm, study the snake coming out the skull's mouth and simply shake your head. “I don’t have anything valuable.” They had been interrogating you since noon and now the sun was beginning to go down and dinner smelled from the kitchen. “I mean I can’t give you anything even if I do want to help.” You bite the inside of your cheek and briefly flicker your eyes up to the few members who remained seated around the wooden table in the brightly lit living room.

“Anything will help, anything you’ve heard in a meeting. A location maybe.”

You sigh and glance at Harry for any sort of comfort he could provide. He notices and from under the table he grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, making you look back at the aurors and other ministry workers. “My house.” You reveal, “Voldemort and the rest of the Death-Eaters meet at my house, the Dark Lord says it’s an honor, but I know it’s bullshit and he’s just punishing my father for what happened in the past.”

“Only at the Malfoy Manor?” Shacklebolt questions as he looks up from his paper. “Are there more meeting places?”

You shake your head. “No. Just there.” You look away again, averting everyone’s gaze in hopes they’d stop pressing you for information you couldn’t give. But they were insistent, they needed more.

Remus Lupin, a man you’ve heard of from Harry and the Dark Lord leans forward in his chair and talks in a gentle manner, in a way that was comforting and not demanding and aggressive like the others who seemed to hate you for being here. “Is there more? I know you said you couldn’t say a lot, but the smallest piece of information will help.”

You could tell them about the coup to take over the Ministry of Magic that Voldemort was planning, but it was a risk. If they manage to stop it in time then Voldemort will find out that someone passed information of it, he’d most likely find out it was you and then punish your family, and you. You couldn’t run that risk. So you shake your head and tell them your reasons behind it instead of bluntly denying their requests. “If I say anything and Voldemort were to find out then he’d punish my family and me. He’d hurt us, or worse.” You swallow thickly and tighten your hold around Harry’s hand. “I can’t run that risk.”

“And we promise that your family will not run any repercussions.” A member that you didn’t know said, albeit you didn’t believe him.

“No.” You deadpan. “I told you already that I cannot give you any information.” You narrow your gaze on the man and turn your lips to a frown.

“Then why did you save the Weasley boy?” Shacklebolt asked. “You could’ve let him get hurt by the Death Eater but you got out of your way to save him in the thought that it was Harry. There will be repercussions there. I’m sure the Death-Eater didn’t hide the truth.”

Your eyes shift to him and you answer honestly with a hint of disgust and bitterness in your tone. “He’s dead, so I don’t expect anything to come out from a pile of ashes.”

The drawing room goes silent and the tension that had balanced over the table grows thicker. They all look at you with questioning and hesitant looks and stay quiet for a moment, letting you add an answer to his question. “Plus Fred is my friend, I couldn’t let him get hurt. No matter what side he was on.”

“Malfoy?” A member scoffs, “are we sure Lucius raised her? She acts more like her—”

“Please,” Hermione cuts the man off. “Shut it.”

More like her? What did he mean?—you let your eyes linger on the man with the square face and bad stubble and crave for more, but then a piece of information you could give pops in your head, making you look back to Shacklebolt. “There's actually something I can share, something you might have your suspicions on.” You fix yourself on your chair and clear your throat. “Ollivander. Some Death-Eaters took him last year, he’s been imprisoned in my house for Voldemort’s personal wand needs. He’s the one that told Voldemort that he couldn’t kill Harry using his wand, he could only hurt him because the wands share the same core. They’re in some ways, twins.” Harry focuses on you and his eyes widen slightly with surprise. “But that’s all I can say. So please don’t ask me to say more.”

The expression Harry had was shared amongst the other members of the order before a woman with brightly colored hair spoke up. “The girls been at it all day. It’s best we let her rest.” She looks at you and offers you a sweet smile. “Thank you, we appreciate all the information you gave us.”

You mirror her smile and stand up with the rest of your friends to filter out of the room, leaving the older members inside to discuss further.

When you walked down the hall that would lead to the stairs, you couldn’t help but notice how brightly lit everything was, the frames on the walls were lopsided and in the pictures everyone was smiling wide. As you passed the dining room you noticed that it matched the disorganized and mismatched theme the living room had; for example different pieces of furniture were different colors, none too dull or bland. All of the colors and mismatched patterns didn’t make the room glum, honestly it had a positive energy that didn’t let you stay upset for too long. You could stay here, it would be lovely and in a lot of ways comforting, but you did miss the organized house you lived in.

“What a lovely house you have here, boys,” you direct to Fred and George as you take in every inch of the hall you were walking through. “It’s colorful.”

“Sorry it’s nothing to your liking, Malfoy,” Ron remarked, making you scoff but smile.

“It’s not what I’m used to, but I truly like it.” Your eyes fall on the couple outside seeming to be in deep debate about something they were pointing to outside. “What are they doing?”

Hermione follows your line of vision before her eyes look up the stairs you began to climb. “They’re planning their wedding.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, feeling your smile fall to a straight line and your mind begin to question their timing to have such an important event. There was a war going on and they were having a wedding?—“Why?” You ask the group out loud. “Why now?”

“You wouldn't plan a wedding now?” Ginny questioned you as she looked at you over her shoulder.

“No.” You answer bluntly. “We’re at war. I don’t think I’d be in the mood to have such an important day.”

“I think that’s why they’re having it,” Hermione answered, “to have a bit of happiness in such dark times. No one knows what’s going to happen. Why not share such an important day and spread a bit of positivity?”

You nod and take in her words for a moment as they walk you back to the room you were staying in with Hermione and Ginny. And even if it didn’t sit right with you, Hermione was right, they didn’t know what’s going to happen a month, a year or week from now, at least if something bad happened they had happy memories to loom back on. They couldn’t let this darkness overwhelm and take over them. You had to make happy moments, no matter how small they could be.

Hmm.

“Before you go inside the room Malfoy,” George interjects as he, Fred and Harry block the door. “We want to share something. A proposal of sorts.”

You shoot the three boys a questioning look and roll out your answer slowly. “Okay, what is it?”

The three of them share a quick look before Fred is the one that shares what they had anxiously been sitting on for the majority of the meeting. “The order, our family and Harry have been discussing and well,” he pauses and sighs out deeply. “We want to offer you refuge here. It might be a bit crowded, but we will make it work.”

“What do you mean?” You ask in disbelief.

“Well,” Harry steps forward. “We want you to stay here. Join us and leave the Death-Eaters and Voldemort.”

“After what you did,” George continued, making your eyes shift to him. “The order, our parents—our mother mainly, want to offer you a place here. You don’t have to go back to that hellish place. You can stay here. With us. Fight alongside us.”

Harry meets your gaze and finally asks, “what do you say?”

A/N- what do you guys think? Should she stay? Or go back home?

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson @swiftlymoniquesblog @spideyyypeter @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie @april-14-blog @prettypinkpeachh @pest-ill-ence @ilovespideyyy @m3ssytrash @hogwarts-babe @yodaboo @rafeyybabyy @itsoakaa @nonamesgame @weird-pale-blonde-person @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lunanargles17 @narcissism-iskey

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