Who: Draco Malfoy and OTA When: Afternoon Where: Deck What: Contemplation Warnings: Profanity, and also references to character deaths and torture Status: Open / ongoing
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Draco usually slept alright.. but on some occasions he did not do that well at all. Having just come out of the terrible war caused by Voldemort. All the losses. On both sides. People he would never have wanted to have their lives taken, and never like that.. a few of them whom he had known. He still remembered Crabbe's screams as he had fallen into the fire spell gone out of control. Granted, it was due to his friend trying to kill the Gryffindors, but he still had feelings about it. Another memory that was still fresh in his mind was the last year at the family manor. The time when the Dark Lord and his army used the house as a base. Made family dinner times a little.. well, he didn't know the word, but it was intense.
It was also dangerous, due to him being a spy for the Order. A fact which not even his parents had known at the time. He couldn't have risked that. For one, their minds might slip and Voldemort looking just once would unravel everything. Secondly, he didn't entirely trust his father, whom even though Voldemort openly mocked him, and their fates threatened, his father still clung to those old ideals and still wasn't above groveling in service to Him, just to be accepted again. And if Lucius couldn't be on board with converting to the Order as Draco did.. well, a great risk. He remembered one particular meeting, having seen one of his past teachers tormented and floating above the huge table, then killed violently by magic, then the crack as she fell down upon the wooden surface. He knew her. And all he could do was sit in silence with the others, unable to stop it. Killed without a second thought.
His hidden work for the Order and Dumbeldore's Army was not the only secret he was keeping however. It was his personal connection to Harry Potter. Those closest to the Golden Boy knew of their friendship and loyalty, but in truth it went so much deeper than that. They were more than allies, sharing a bond stronger than mere friends ever did. It was those feelings that helped him get through his own dark times, that gave him strength to continue doing good instead of going back into old habits as the cowardly, sniveling, sycophant Death Eater that he would have reverted to if things played out differently than he remembered in that bathroom fight during 6th Year. And after the war? Mostly all the secrets came out, how he was a spy, his membership with the D.A. and order, how he worked as Snape had. The only secret that remained was the true nature of his and Potter's... friendship. It was one that he still kept to this point.
He found it a little challenge to keep that one. He had to be careful while in the suite they shared, only expressing his feelings through action when no one else was present, when they were in private inside either his or Harry's section of the residence. It took effort to not stare at his boyfriend during shared group dinners, making a point to not glance too long in that direction. He shuddered to think how his parents would react.. especially his father. After being on this ship, Draco resolved to never let the man know about any of that stuff. He had been informed recently that his father hadn't changed much on his superior tradition views, if he had at all. Even if Draco was from another timeline or universe than the others he spoke to from their world, it was clear to him that Lucius Malfoy would be the same in both worlds.
Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance at that thought now, fists clenched on his side. All this time he thought he was the only Draco Malfoy, that there was only one universe, one world.. but now there may be a multitude of them. The idea made his head hurt, this was an idea that was best suited in science rather than magic. Science was very new to him. He hoped his father never showed up - or worse, the Dark Lord himself. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he walked along the deck, stopping nearby the railing as he looked over the ocean. It was beautiful, quiet, serene. A state in which he needed his mind to be. He was suddenly glad to be stuck on the ship and not anywhere at his home or school. Too many bad memories and dreams, some of which were caused on his part, which only added to the regret he carried silently in himself. He reached into his pocket then and held the imitation galleon. It was the coin. One of the many fake galleon coins that was given only to individuals who were members of Dumbledore's Army. A group that he had been against at one point but had for a long while now been loyal to and a part of during the last year of war. He held it in his hand, rolling it between his fingers as he looked at it, seeing the sunlight glint off of its surface. After a while of observing the object, he permitted himself a slight smile.