The Room of Banished Things by Alexcaster Title: The Room of Banished Things Author:alexcaster Pairing: Severus/Draco Rating: PG-13 Word Count: ~3700 Warnings: None Theme: Quest Prompt: The night falls on the shadows Summary: When Severus finds himself in the Room of Banished Things, he finds something that he once thought was lost. A/N: Many thanks to my marvelous beta who did a bang up job on such short notice. Much love, as always, and you have my eternal thanks and appreciation.
The Room of Banished Things
Severus shook his head to clear the haze that had settled over his mind. The fall itself had been disorienting, and combined with the fact that he wasn’t quite sure where he was, Severus was very worried indeed. The room that he was in was expansive, and he noticed that he could see the high ceiling, but if he concentrated on it, it stretched and seemed to become infinite.
‘Where is this place?’ Severus thought.
He took cautious steps inside the almost entirely white room. The walls, pristinely white, seemed to be under the same magic as that of the ceiling. If Severus looked hard enough, he could see the walls start to extend themselves in all directions, making the room grow exponentially. This was worrying indeed.
“Hello?” Severus called out cautiously, wand in hand. No one answered. “Hello?” he called out again. “Is there anybody here?”
“I’m here,” a voice said from behind a large pile of what looked like junk. “But since there isn’t a here, and here is nowhere, I don’t suppose I’m here…”
Severus scowled and followed the voice around the pile of junk. He hated puzzles. There were no patterns or methods to them, unlike potions, which were organized and orderly. He much preferred the straightforward nature of potion ingredients. Puzzles reminded him too much of his days as a spy, constantly trying to figure out every angle and motive.
“Who are you? And where is this?”
“I’m me,” the voice said. Severus tried to follow it, but he found himself walking in a circle around the pile of junk, following the phantom voice. The pile of junk he had been circling was apparently much bigger than his first impression had suggested. Considering that the room’s dimensions were so fluid, Severus supposed that he shouldn’t put too much stock in reality here.
“And you’re here,” the voice continued to say. “Since this obviously isn’t there, because this is nowhere and there is somewhere.”
Severus was beginning to hate this blasted, formless voice. “You’re not making any sense,” Severus growled.
“Well, that’s all very relative, isn’t it?”
The voice was now coming from somewhere above and Severus looked to the top of the junk pile. “Draco?!” he asked.
“Hi, Professor,” Draco said as he swung his legs from atop the baby grand piano at the precariously high point of the junk pile.
“What are you doing here?” Severus asked in alarm. He hadn’t seen his former student in the last three years since the war had been over. No one had. “And where have you been all this time?”
“Nowhere,” Draco answered with a cheerful smile.
Severus huffed. “Enough of this silliness, Draco, now get down from there this instant.” He watched as Draco climbed down from the piano, his feet making discordant notes sing from the tattered and battered keys. He was worried Draco would slip and fall on his way down, but again the floor seemed to shift and Draco was standing next to him in one small step.
Severus looked around in amazement. “What is this place?” He looked down at his former student. He was glad to see that Draco was looking healthy at least, if not a little skinny.
“This is the Room of Banished Things,” Draco said as he looked at the pile of junk thoughtfully before pulling out a chair from the unstable-looking pile, which creaked but didn’t fall over. “Would you like a seat?”
Severus nodded and watched Draco walk inquisitively around the pile of junk until he found what he was looking for. Severus accepted the reclining chair that Draco had come back with appreciatively, and sat down with caution. As soon as he leaned back, he found himself nearly flat on his back and facing the ceiling.
Draco laughed and came over, giving the side of Severus’ chair a good kick to spring it back into place. “Sorry about that,” he said with a chuckle, “it happens sometimes here.”
Severus scowled and cursed at the blasted chair under his breath. “And just what exactly is here?” Severus asked. “What did you say, the Room of Banishment?”
“The Room of Banished Things, actually.” Draco stuck his hand into a hole in the pile and searched around for a moment before he brought out a chipped pot of tea. The second time, his hand came back with two mismatched cups. “Tea?”
Severus nodded tentatively while Draco magicked their tea. It was steaming hot and smelled of orange and jasmine. He took the cup of tea that Draco handed him, and blew on the steam. He burned his lips anyway when he sipped.
“I’ve never heard of this place,” Severus said as he looked around. He noticed a small bed in the far, far corner of the room that he was sure wasn’t there just a moment ago. But then again, that corner of the room wasn’t that far away a few moments ago either. He gestured towards the corner. “Is this where you’ve been staying the last three years?”
The corner seemed to shrink and the next that Severus saw, the bed was only a few paces away from them now. Draco didn’t seem to notice and only very naturally set his saucer of tea on his bed when he was done with it. This room was odd indeed.
Draco cocked his head and looked at Severus in contemplation. “Has it been that long?”
Severus’ brows drew together in concentration. Did Draco really have no idea that he had been gone for so long? Had he no idea that Severus had been searching for him for just as long? “It’s been three years, Draco, since the war has been over.”
Draco pursed his lips in thought. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Three years is a very long time.”
Severus looked at Draco sadly. “Yes, it is,” he agreed. “You’ve been gone for a very long time.”
Draco took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, making him look so very small and vulnerable. “How…” he began, unsuccessfully. He bit his lip and tried again, his head canted to the side and resting on the top of his knees. “How is it? Out there, I mean.”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking, Draco,” Severus said lightly to the unstable looking boy. He was very worried about Draco indeed. “How is what?”
“Everything,” Draco said, unhelpfully. “Everyone,” he added after a pause.
“Everything is…” Severus paused, finding the best word to describe everything about the last few years. “Everything is moving.”
“That’s good,” Draco said quietly.
“And everyone is healing,” Severus said. “Potter and his lot made it through. Shacklebolt is the Minister now. He’s actually quite competent, for a fool that smiles way too much, that is.”
Draco laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth. It brought a smile to Severus’ face as well. He hadn’t seen Draco so young since before the war had picked up.
“Zabini and Parkinson actually joined the Auror program.” Severus rolled his eyes as he said this, but he was very proud of his former students for having made something of themselves. “They’re not half bad.”
Draco laughed and the sad, tense lines of his shoulders seemed to relax. “I’m glad, though I can’t imagine Blaise getting his hands dirty or his shoes scuffed.”
“I hear he casts extra protection spells around them every morning before he goes in to work.”
Draco laughed again and the sound of it echoed happily through the room.
“Draco,” Severus said slowly. He didn’t want to approach the subject while Draco was so happy, but he needed to know. He needed to know. “What are you doing here?”
Draco’s smile faltered before he plastered it on again. “I’m having tea and a conversation with you of course!” He reached for his cup of tea and took an imaginary sip from the empty cup.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Severus said. He leaned forward and put his hand on Draco’s bare foot. He hadn’t noticed that Draco wasn’t wearing any shoes until then. “How did you get here?”
Draco shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly,” he answered. “I remember fighting, or at least trying to fight, in the final battle. My parents were with me. They gave it all up, you know, everything they believed in, to save me.”
Severus did know. “Your parents adored you,” Severus said with a supportive squeeze of Draco’s foot. “Lucius was so proud of you, even though I know he probably never told you.”
“He was?” Draco asked in a small voice.
“He spoke of you all the time whenever he came over for drinks. Couldn’t shut up, really,” Severus said with a fond smile at the memory of his old friend. “He always did say that you were the pride of his life, and that Narcissa was the love.”
Draco smiled sadly at that. “He and Mother used to embarrass me so much whenever Blaise and Pansy came over when we were kids. They were always so smitten,” he said with a bittersweet sigh. “Are they…”
Severus knew before Draco had even voiced it, what Draco was inquiring about. “They were buried together, in the Malfoy ancestral tombs.”
“Oh,” Draco nodded dumbly, “that’s good. Father would have liked that.”
Silence stretched between them and Severus waited, but Draco made no move to speak. “What happened in the final battle, Draco?” he forced himself to ask. Even if Draco was intent on changing the subject, Severus was not to be deterred.
“I don’t know.” Draco shrugged honestly. “After my parents…after,” he said simply, “after that I hid. I can’t even remember what wing of the school I was in anymore. The only thing I could think about was running away and hiding so that no one could find me anymore. I sat huddled behind some suits of armor near a pile of junk, I’m not sure in which room, and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, mere seconds later, here I was.”
Severus inhaled sharply as he appraised the situation. Unless Draco had Apparated, which Severus highly doubted he had done, then it must have been a very powerful manifestation of magic that transported Draco here. “You didn’t do anything?” he asked. “No spells, no magic, to get here?”
Draco shook his head. “No,” he responded, “I just closed my eyes and covered my ears to drown out all the screaming. It was so loud, Professor, so very loud.”
“I know,” Severus said as he reached over to tuck a strand of stray hair behind Draco’s ear. Draco still looked the same as he ever did, if not perhaps a bit more unsettled at times. “What happened next?”
Draco raised his hands and shrugged. “Nothing,” he said, “there was nowhere for me to go and my parents were dead. There wasn’t a thing I could do, so I sat there and waited for someone to come and finish me off. I just wanted it to end. I wanted to go someplace where no one would be able to find me, somewhere that I could simply be.”
“And that’s how you ended up here?”
Draco nodded. “At first I was scared, because the walls kept changing and the room seemed to go on forever. The lights never changed and ceiling never stayed still. It was very frightening.”
Severus nodded. Something like that would indeed have been very frightening to a boy who had just been in a war and seen his parents killed in the line of fire.
“I started to get desperate, but then I didn’t want to go back to all the fighting. That’s when I saw that plaque on the wall right there.” Draco pointed at the dot in the horizon and as Severus concentrated on it, it drew near until he could practically reach out and touch it. The plaque read: The Room of Banished Things.
“So,” Severus said slowly, trying his best to make sense of the situation, “by your desire and will, you’ve banished yourself here?”
“Oh, Professor,” Draco tittered behind his hand amusedly, “just because you wish something doesn’t make it come true.”
Severus shook his head. “But if you wished strongly enough, and if your desire for survival triggers your innate magic, then it could be possible.” Severus could tell that he was more or less mumbling to himself right now, but he didn’t care. This was how he made sense of things. This was how he put the world back into alignment. “If your magic sensed that your survival, and by association its survival, depended on fulfilling your will, then it would manifest itself to carry out your wishes. You had given up and were just waiting for death at that point. If it sensed that, then it would have done anything to save you, even if it meant banishing you here.”
“Then why wouldn’t it just send me to Aruba or something?” Draco asked.
Severus raised an eyebrow at the boy, impressed that he had been able to follow Severus’ train of thought. Even Albus had had trouble catching up with the way Severus’ mind worked sometimes. There was hope for Draco yet.
Severus looked straight into Draco’s eyes as he spoke. “Because,” he said, “you wished that you were somewhere that no one could find you and that everyone would just forget you. Where better for that than the Room of Banished Things, which I assume is where people banish the things they don’t want to see anymore and simply want to forget about?”
Draco mulled that over for a minute before nodding reluctantly in acceptance. “If I ended up here because I wanted to be forgotten about and never found again, then how did you find me?” he questioned.
“I wasn’t looking to banish myself, if that’s what you’re inquiring about.”
“Then how did you end up here?”
“I don’t know exactly. I was looking for something, I don’t even know what exactly, but I do remember that I felt it was something important to me that I had lost in the past. Naturally, the first place that I looked was underneath my bed. I was halfway through crawling under when I found myself falling as if I had stepped into a hole. The next thing I knew, I ended up here.”
Draco looked at Severus in astonishment. “Do you think I had something to do with this?” Draco looked truly worried and Severus put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.
“I think this room reacts to you, or at least its magic does,” Severus said with a comforting nod that said he didn’t blame Draco for any of this. “This room seems to change and mould itself around your needs and desires, sort of like it is its own sentient being, if you will.”
“But then why did it bring you here?”
“I don’t know, Draco,” Severus answered honestly. “I think that’s something only you can answer. What have you been thinking about lately? What have you been feeling strongly?”
“Loneliness,” Draco answered almost immediately. A blush stole across his cheeks when he realized he had spoken his true heart’s desire. He drew in a breath though, and continued on. “I’ve been feeling lonely.”
“Then I think that’s why the room brought me to you.” Severus reached out and took the cup Draco still held in his hands. “It must have been awfully lonely, spending all this time here by yourself.”
Draco nodded but kept mum on how truly lonesome it had been. “Time is different here, I think,” he said. “Sometimes it feels like only minutes have passed since I came here, but then sometimes I feel like it’s been ages and that the world is just spinning without me now.”
“It never gets dark here, does it?” Draco shook his head. Severus looked up to the ceiling and the light that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was like time froze in this room. “Don’t you miss it, though, those times when the night bleeds into day?” Severus asked.
“Sometimes,” Draco admitted. “But here, there are no shadows.”
“You must get lonely without even your shadow to visit with,” Severus said as he looked to the ground. Draco was right. He hadn’t even noticed, but neither of them had a shadow. It was eerie.
“That’s an awfully weird thing to say, Professor,” Draco said with a laugh. “Only crazy people talk to their shadows.”
Severus grumbled mentally. He wasn’t sure which one of them was the crazy one right now, but he was leaning very heavily upon his own sanity. He didn’t know how long he had been here, but he was already feeling the effects of the room. He cared less, for one thing, about what was happening and what was going to happen. That didn’t bode well at all. Was that why Draco had spent the last three years here, wasting away?
“Draco,” Severus said carefully. This was a delicate subject, and with the way he had been talking, Draco’s state of mind obviously wasn’t very stable. “Would you like to come back with me?”
Draco tilted his head to the side curiously. “Come back where?”
“Home,” Severus answered.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “You mean there,” he said stubbornly like a child. “I don’t want to.”
“Is staying here really so much better?”
“There is no here,” Draco said with a wide grin.
‘Oh great,’ Severus thought, ‘we’re back to this again.’
“That’s the point, Draco,” Severus said patiently. It was like dealing with petulant first years all over again. “There is no here for you to be at. Here doesn’t exist.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to exist,” Draco said somberly. He got up and walked over to the bed in the corner, which was much farther away now than it had been moments ago, and sat on the edge of it with his back towards Severus.
“You don’t mean that,” Severus said with confidence.
“How would you know?”
“I know because if you didn’t want to exist, then the room wouldn’t have brought me here.” It had made sense in his head. Now if only he could convince Draco of that. “You’re lonely here, and as much as you protest otherwise, I think that you want to come home again. I think that you want to be remembered.”
Draco sat silently for a moment before he spoke in a very small and quiet voice. “I don’t have a home to come home to.”
“Then I can help you make a home,” Severus offered.
Draco shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”
“How would you know,” Severus offered, “if you have never tried?”
“I did things, Professor,” said Draco. His back was still turned, but Severus could see the anguish clearly drawn on his features. “I made mistakes. Horrible mistakes.”
“We all did things, Draco.” Never had Severus pitied anyone as he did Draco at that moment. Three years of isolation, of loneliness, thinking that you had no home to come back to was a horrible weight to shoulder. “We’ve all made mistakes, the lot of us, but we’ve also all moved on from them.”
“No one will forgive me…”
“Only because there is nothing to forgive.” Severus let out a sigh and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to Draco, who was looking very small at the moment. “We looked for you, you know. We all did, even Potter and his lot.”
“To throw me into Azkaban?”
Severus shook his head and laid a hand to rest on Draco’s thigh. “We looked for you because you were one of us. You made mistakes, but so did Potter, and so did I, and so did everybody else that was involved in that bloody war. We looked for you because you belonged with us.”
“I’m afraid,” Draco admitted. He turned to look at Severus, and those familiar grey eyes were murky with emotion. “I’m afraid to go back. I don’t know that I know how to anymore.”
“I take it you don’t mean in the literal sense?”
Draco pursed his lips and considered. “In both senses, actually,” he said with a smile that quickly vanished. “I don’t think I remember how to live.”
Severus laughed and reached up to tousle Draco’s hair, something he hadn’t done since Draco was a mere child. “That’s the easy part. All you have to do is move.”
“Move?”
“Yes, move,” Severus nodded.
“That simple?” Draco asked incredulously.
Severus nodded again. “Simply that.”
“I can do that,” Draco said with obviously mustered bravado. “I think,” he added, more unsure this time.
Severus smirked with amusement. “If you desire it, then it will happen, as this room has shown.”
Draco smiled and inhaled, steeling himself for the decision that he was going to make. “I want to live,” he finally said.
As soon as Draco had said that, the floor creaked and Severus found himself hanging on tightly to Draco. They both screamed as the bed seemed to sink into the floor and then they were falling. Severus didn’t know where he was falling to and what would be left of them when they finally hit bottom, but he knew one thing for sure. He hated falling.
They landed with a mighty thud, and when Severus opened his eyes, he was not underneath his bed as he had expected, but on top of it. Not only that, but a very barefoot Draco Malfoy was on his bed and in his arms. Severus looked down at the young man currently clinging to him and smiled.