*TW: r*pe survivor/discussion about r*pe

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." - Plato

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d r a c o

In the waking moments that followed, I could only think about Angel and her time at the Manor. She had suffered greatly; I could feel it as I touched her body, traced the sunken hollow of her spine. A deep and profound pain had etched itself into the softness of her skin and the points where her bones protruded.

But it would be wrong to say I did not think of how Codrus had done the exact same thing. Touched her. My Angel. Images flashed in my mind. The things they did, the words he must have said to her while they did them. My stomach churned like a mixer, turning the batter of anger, jealousy, sorrow, and desire for revenge.

I wanted to ask her because I wanted to know how she was feeling, and because I wanted to hear it. It was selfish; detestable of me, to even approach the subject. She had already been taken by force once before, at my expense.

I buried my face in her hair, as if it would prevent the words from escaping my mouth. In the dark space between us, her hand squeezed mine. "Ask me," she said.

My eyebrows shot up so high it hurt my forehead. "What do you mean?" I tried not to sound surprised. 

"You can ask me, Draco," she said again. "It's okay."

It was not. I knew her well enough to know she was only willing to confront and speak the horrible truth because she loved me. She squeezed my hand again, urging. I gave in to my own desires.

"What did he do with you?"

"He fed me Amortentia every day. And then he would have sex with me." There was no merciful pause, only the truth that I had asked for. There was a jolt of pain in my heart. "And... and you liked it."

"Yes. Because of the Amortentia."

"But you liked it."

"Because of the Amortentia," she repeated. I could not see her expression, and she could not see mine. She would not have wanted to.

"Did..." I stopped myself. She squeezed my hand the third time. "Did you love him?"

"Yes and no. The potion makes you... think things."

"What kind of things?" My heart was crumbling with each question and each unsatisfactory answer.

"I wanted him," she admitted. "I craved him like nothing else in the world. I thought about him all day and all night. It changes your reality. Changes the way you think."

The potion did not make her hallucinate. It had instilled a true, tangible desire. When he was having her, she would have moaned in genuine pleasure, begged him for more. Our vow had been broken. I no longer had monopoly over her feelings as a lover. As a husband.

It was not her fault. She was raped. I knew that. And being angry with her was wrong, but I was. And not just at her, but at Codrus, and my father, and the Death Eaters. At that damned Serena Cheng. And at Hannah and Susan and Lorcan. At this tent. At myself. I was so angry I wanted to take my hands off her. But I was frozen in place, my arm still under her neck and wrapped over the back of her shoulders, the other resting on the dip of her waist.

My silent fuming had caused a hot vapour to rise from my skin, turning its surface damp. That was when I became aware of the cold, wet patch on my chest where her face rested.

"Do you think of me differently?" she whispered.

I thought about it. Did I? She was still my wife. My Angel. That would never, ever change. But how does a husband react to the fact his wife had been drugged to enjoy sex with a deranged, power-hungry man?

Being with Angel had changed me to be a better man. Everyone said so, and I agree. But at the same time, I was also still the same flawed human being she had met in the Tower. The only living human who could come close to heavenly perfection was Angel herself.

"No," I said, unsure of whether I meant it or not.

I expected her to continue crying in my arms. Instead, she slowly extracted herself, rolled over, stood up, and walked away. I was left on the bed, staring after her in the darkness.

Her sniffling drifted further away, but the tent never let in any light, so I knew she had not left its safe confines. I waited five minutes, and five minutes later, her heartbroken sobs had not stopped.

If any of her friends were woken up by it, they would find out the reason and put me through hell. I wanted them to. 

That's the thing about feelings. They were a plague you could not hide from. They did not care right from wrong. They wrenched you by the heart and commanded you to notice them even if you didn't want to, even if it would hurt the ones you loved the most.

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I found her on the ground in the living area, sitting on folded legs as she cried to the floor.

I sank down beside her, not knowing what to say. Sorry would not count for anything right now, so I kept my mouth shut.

She muffled her weeping with her own palm, her lashes heavy with tears. I considered casting Muffliato for a moment, just so she could let out her grief without holding back, but quickly retracted the thought, disgusted at myself. How self-righteous was I to think I was doing her a great favour? That I was the hero in this situation? I was no better than any of the Death Eaters, and certainly no better person than Angel.

I focused on her hand closest to me, and eventually summoned the courage to reach out. She jerked away so forcefully she lost her balance and fell back onto her bum. I tried to help her, but she scrambled away, her face splotchy and streaked with glistening tears. "Don't touch me," she croaked. "I'm dirty."

No. I might have been upset, but she would never be dirty to me. No one who had been abused should feel that. But she did feel it, because of me and how I had said the things I said.

"Angel-"

"No. Just please, don't touch me." Her voice broke with each vowel. Her shoulders were heaving with effort, but she simply would not let me near.

"Angel, please," I whispered as loudly as I dared. "I'm sorry. I never meant that. I never even thought it. I would never." That was not a lie, but she had many reasons to think otherwise.

I briefly considered taking her into my arms by force. I could have. Instead, I watched helplessly as she cried herself into a puddle.

"Angel, I love you," I tried again. "I loved you then and I love you now, and forever. Nothing will ever change that. You are my wife." I did not have to explain what I meant by that, I knew she knew. Still, she remained where she was, like a frightened, cornered rabbit. I stopped trying to move towards her.

She choked from sobs until exhaustion eventually put a stopper to her tears. Inch by inch, I crawled forward until I was right in front of her. Her hands were freezing cold. She let me hold her body, but did not reciprocate.

Her skin was creamy beneath my calloused palms. I threaded my fingers through her long hair, taking my time to play with it. "I love you," I said. "And I'm not saying it because you saved me. It's not because you made me a better person. I love you because I love every part of you, body and soul. I love all twenty-four years of the life you have lived, every second of it. The good, the bad, and the okay moments. And loving it doesn't mean I have to like everything, but it doesn't make me love it any less. Does that make sense?"

She did not respond.

"You are not dirty," I said. "I'm so sorry I made you think otherwise. You know who's dirty? My father. My mother. Codrus. The Death Eaters. Not you. You are not dirty. You're my universe."

And she was. She was an angel sent to suffer the tribulations of our godforsaken planet, one too minuscule to accommodate her goodness. What for? I do not know. You would have to ask the stars.

I kissed the top of her head. I dried her tears with my sleeves. I rocked her gently. And from there, on the smooth wood floor, I raised my wand to the ceiling and spoke the words I had learnt to recite by heart: "Inocte stellaficus. Astranimatis imperium."

Into this night, I conjure the stars and command them to dance.

A white dot appeared, no bigger than a Snitch. It began to multiply, more and more, until the roof no longer existed, but replaced with a vast and expansive night sky; darker than ink and brighter than a thousand flares.

Some of the stars started to grow bigger. Glowing arms shot out from them, stretching out to touch the other and connecting until they formed a shape.

My favourite part of it all was Angel's face. Her features were bathed in the same otherworldly blue as mine was, her eyes and smile wide with childlike wonder as the stars came alive before our eyes. She stood up in excitement, and so did I.

They were all there: Delphinus, the dolphin; Lepus, the hare; Pegasus, the winged horse; Draco, the dragon; Serpens, the snake. Aries, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Cancer. And finally, Ursa Minor, the baby bear that carried Polaris in its tail.

They floated weightlessly, shooting from one end to the other and rattling the smaller stars that did not move.

Angel reached out, the silhouette of her elegant arm black against the indigo blue. Ursa Minor tumbled down, tripping on its unlearned paws to meet the gentle curve of her open palm. The North Star shone trailed behind it, a glowing ball of gas so bright it threatened to blind us.

"I wish there was music," she sighed. I did not know any music spells, and there were no instruments nearby for me to enchant. "Dancing is for pansies, anyway," I said ironically, beginning to sway her as I hummed her favourite tune. It was one she would always put on the record player back home - Michael Bublé's 'Can't Help Falling In Love'. The song was inordinately cheesy to me, but it had been her dad's favourite, so I always indulged her.

I spun her around. Just as she turned out from under my arm, she let out a surprised squeak and stumbled backward.

Lorcan was leaning against the wooden pillar, arms folded and watching us with a knowing smirk. "Oh, don't mind me," he said. "Do carry on."

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping, Atwood?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"And miss this amazing display? Not a chance!" he chirped jovially, which compounded my irritation. To my displeasure, Angel ran and pulled him in. The constellations descended lower, sniffing at their new guest with great curiosity.

"I didn't know you could do the Constellation Charm!" he said to Angel. "It's one of the hardest atmospheric charms ever. Even the people at the Magical Maintenance Department find it difficult. You're giving Hermione a run for her money."

He was right. It was difficult. These were not just simple sparkles that gave off artificial light. They were real stars made with real gas, albeit with a little less intensity so they would not burn to the touch or be too bright to look at. It took a lot of energy, concentration, and willpower, but it got easier with each try.

"It was all Draco!" Angel gushed. Lorcan looked surprised and slightly doubtful, aggravating me further. Did everyone really have such low expectations of me?

"Well, that's fantastic!" he exclaimed. "If I wasn't already in love with Susan I might just fall for you!"

We stared at him. He stared back, shocked by his own gaffe. "Susan?" Angel gaped. He recovered quickly, and spread his arms. "Cat's out of the bag, I guess!"

Angel laughed in congratulatory delight. "I heard you wanted music," said Lorcan, taking both her hands. "Well, Jelly, you're just in luck. I happen to be a whole four-piece band myself!" He began to snap his fingers, creating a beat and bobbing his body to it. Angel mirrored him, bouncing on her feet with her arm over her belly.

With that, they began to dance. The 'music' changed from waltz, to jive, to hip-hop. Lorcan did The Robot, and Angel stepped the Cha-Cha. The constellations matched their energy, rearing and gaiting above us. A part of me wanted to join them, but I simply could not bear to embarrass myself like that.

"What in Helga's good name is going on?" A voice sliced through the air, stopping the both of them short. We turned. 

A wand lit up Hannah's disturbed face. A sleepy Susan stood behind her, rubbing her eyes. But then they looked up above us, and their mouths fell open.

"We were just dancing." Lorcan extended an arm. "Care to join us?"

"What- what is all this? It's 2AM!" sputtered Hannah.

"Oh, come on, you just sound like old Filch now," Lorcan brushed her comment aside with a wave of his hand. He strode up, yanked the two of them by their arms, and hauled them right up to the large rug.

He started up his moves again, and Angel joined in. Hannah glared at them, but when Lorcan tugged at her folded arms, she couldn't help but smile.

I did not expected Hannah to be receptive of this, but I should've known better. Lorcan was nicknamed The Laugh for good reason. Besides the great banter and jokes, his words and actions had a weighted sureness that made you think he could touch the sky if he so wished. And he knew how to make you feel like you could, too. His unruly chestnut curls and shining, youthful face compelled you to listen to whatever he had to say, do whatever he wanted to do. So, it did not take long for the girls to succumb to his scatting and beatboxing.

I thought that I, for one, would be immune, but that was not the case as well. Lorcan took my hand, and he did not grab me by the arm, or catch me by my wrist. He slapped his palm right into mine, without hesitation. I had not been held like that before by anybody other than Angel, and my first instinct was to pull away, but I did not. Like I said, Lorcan had a way about him.

He twirled me around. Lorcan. Twirled me around. I went under his arm, like I was a Third Year at the Yule Ball with my Fourth Year date. And for the first time, I did not feel like knuckling him across his smug face. My body began to move on its own accord - very much against my will, might I add - and they all clapped and cheered in encouragement.

For a long time, my view of love had been shaped by my parents. Love was measured, calculative, and conditional. When I met Angel, she had wiped that definition away and replaced it with a different kind. Hers was steady, patient, unceasing. Whenever I was with her, the world outside would cease to exist. It was just me and her in a vast, empty space of nothingness.

What I did not know was that it was possible to feel a similar way with other people as well. The right people.

We danced and laughed for a long time under the celestial light of the constellations above us, and I felt a something I had never ever felt before. The warmth of belonging to a family. 

When we were done, we collapsed in a heap onto the rug, breathless and red-faced. "I didn't know you could dance!" Hannah pushed me lightly on the shoulder. I smiled back. "Not too bad yourself, Abbott."

"You've got moves, Ferret Boy! Seriously, Jelly, keep your man close or I might just steal him away!" Lorcan warned. 

"Stop calling her that, for fuck's sake!" Hannah groaned loudly. They giggled. 

I was still trying to fight my growing partiality to them, and refused to laugh along. Angel did, though.

This time, I saw the twinkle in her eyes, the way her gaze immediately flickered to me. I never caught that before, but I now realise she did it every time someone cracked a joke.

I used to be jealous of how she seemed to enjoy Lorcan's company more than mine, the way she threw her head back and roared with laughter. But I never noticed what she did after; the way she would subconsciously look at me to see if I had enjoyed the joke as well. It was always my approval she had looked for. My happiness, not hers or anybody else's. And then I suddenly wondered why I had ever been jealous of anyone at all.

Susan reached over me to grasp Angel's hand and gave her an apologetic smile. I noted Angel's expression - forgiving, but... agreeing. There was something going on I did not know about, the thing Angel had not wanted to speak of. It gnawed at me, but I hastily brushed it aside.

"I miss Hogwarts," Lorcan announced suddenly.

"Times were much simpler, then, weren't they?" Susan agreed.

"All I had to worry about was which Gryffindork I would pick on next," I added readily.

"Or Ravenclaw. Or Hufflepuff." Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Hmm, yeah," I chuckled. "The Hufflepuffs were the easiest, really. Low-hanging fruit. Easy pickings." 

Hannah slapped me on the back of my head, hard.

"It's not my fault you all made yourself sitting ducks!" I protested.

"Everyone except Hannah," Angel giggled. "She'd pummel you to the ground in a heartbeat."

"Hah! Wrong. I did get you once," I boasted smugly to Hannah. "Third Year, after Divination class. I pulled your ponytail. You didn't do anything, just told me to eat shit."

"Uh huh," she nodded, deadpan. "And our common room is next to the kitchens, Malfoy."

"So?"

She smirked, amused that I was not understanding. "Remember the chocolate pudding we had that day? Well... let's just say yours was a special order."

I stared at her in unfiltered horror, and they all erupted into peals of laughter. Susan tugged at a clump of loose fibres that sprouted from the rug. "What I would give to go back to those times, just for a day," she sighed.

I wrinkled my nose at that. "You mean to old walls, dim corridors, and creaky faucets?"

"To Potions classes and greenhouses and ginormous, ticking clocks!"

"You mean to screaming paintings, erratic, moving staircases, and nosy professors."

"To Great Feasts and Quidditch matches and late-night chats in the common rooms!" Lorcan argued.

He won. I shut my eyes, remembering the old castle. The chittering students, the whirl of black robes, weekend Butterbeers at Hogsmeade, warm scarves and mitts in December, the height at which we soared on our broomsticks during Quidditch. I smiled to myself. "We were kings and queens of the world."

"And we will be, forever," said Angel, leaning onto my shoulder. It wasn't a remark, but a promise. A promise of the unending legacy that would live on, long after we were gone from this world.

There was something magical about the energy that radiated off us that night. We were in our own universe. It was right then, below our very own sky, amongst the thorns of clashing personalities, and in the soil of a shared mission, that we sowed the seeds of friendship.

We may have been in the middle of a war. A war my family had started. It was not like with Voldemort and Harry. This was happening us, right now. We did not fully comprehend what was happening, neither would we know how this would end. We didn't ask for this, but we chose each other, and that was all we needed to know.

Not everything had to be complicated. Sometimes, things were easy. We just need to accept it.

We lay on the rug and watched the constellations in momentary contentment. Leo was chasing Scorpio around, pawing at it. It scuttled away, jabbing at the lion with its stinger. Pegasus pranced around with Taurus, and Serpens and Draco slithered around without a care in the world.

"I'm going to Hogwarts tomorrow," Susan's voice came in the darkness, brittle and trembling. "I'm scared."

"Me too," said Lorcan. There was a beat of silence.

"Me three." Hannah's whispered admission floated up and disappeared into the sky.

Me four, I thought to myself.

"Hannah-" Angel began.

"If you're going to ask us to just give you up, save it," said Hannah, more robustly this time. "And even if we do, what good could possibly come out of it? We're doomed either way. So we're in this together. To the end."

"Okay." Angel reached for my hand and took a deep breath. "I'm here with you, and you're here with me," she said to us. "If we die..." - she paused for a long time - "If we die, we'll go together."

I dared myself to look at her. The stars in her eyes were swimming with tears. She was infinitely more afraid than I was.

"Together," said Hannah.

"Together," said Lorcan.

Beside me, I saw Susan manage a smile. "Together." I felt her hand nudge mine, and I instinctively opened my palms. She slipped her hand in.

The five of us fell asleep under the stars that night, on the rug in the living area of Susan's tent, in the middle of an unknown forest. Holding hands.

Together.

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A/N: 

I know this chapter is long (the longest in both books), but I feel it had to be because I wanted to properly write how they are finally reunited, and how they're accepting Draco as part of this little family!

Also, not sure if you caught it, but the song for this chapter is the acoustic version of the same one I used in the 'Lyra' chapter of Of Serpents And Angels, when Draco first did the constellation spell for Angel. Except this time, it's a more sentimental version that's a little more heartfelt and personal 🥺 Go listen to both versions!! I think they fit these parallel chapters so well~

This chapter is dedicated to wraath , whom I met on Wattpad and has become my dearest friends offline! I'm so grateful to be able to discuss and talk plot ideas with her (and astrology and life in general, amongst other things bahahah)!! Please check out her book, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side. The twist is just 😱😱😱 and the VILLAIN REVEAL IS CHEFS KISS.

Anyway, if you made it to the end of this 4K word chapter, thank you for all your support so far!! I love and appreciate each and everyone of you 😘😘