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To Find The Missing Lifeline	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37353 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
13. Quiet Resignation

     Lips... Soft and caressing, they were touching his face. He opened his eyes and saw the incredible grey eyes right in front of him. They were smiling at him, seducing him with something inexplicable, unfathomable, that no one would ever be able to put into words. He'd missed them so much... It wasn't a thought, just a feeling. His fingertips touched this perfect mouth and it kissed them.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered.

"I love you, Harry." The voice was shockingly alien. He gasped and roughly pushed away whomever he'd been holding in his arms.

"Ginny..." he said quietly without knowing why he had pushed her like that. She was staring at him in shock. No... No grey eyes.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked. He shook his head and stormed out of the common room, moving past Ron and Hermione. His head was in complete mess and it started to hurt. He was walking fast without knowing where exactly he was going. Harry only stopped in front of the wall, hardly understanding where he was. The window was to the right of him. Air... He needed air. Sitting down on the windowsill, he opened the window and inhaled deeply. The air was cold and that was exactly what he wanted. Why was he feeling so empty? The headache intensified and tears welled up in his eyes. He heard the approaching steps, but his head was buried in his hands, so he didn't look. The feeling of comforting touch on his shoulder left him absolutely impassive.

"Talk to me." A familiar voice. Hermione... She sat down on the windowsill next to him.

"What do you want me to say?" he replied after a minute of silence.

"I want to understand what's happening to you. I hardly recognise you sometimes."

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't meet your expectations," Harry chuckled coldly.

"It's not about that," she frowned. "We worry about you; Ron, Ginny and I. Sometimes you become so distant and irritable. Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Yes. You could leave me alone, for example. I'm tired of this! Don't you understand that sometimes... people need some time to be alone? Am I asking too much? I'm tired... I'm tired that you all look over my shoulder, tired of your concerns about me. Just... mind your own business, please."

"You're not fair. Look... The forthcoming N.E.W.T.s..." She wasn't given a chance to finish, because Harry exploded with anger.

"I don't fucking care about the N.E.W.T.s! I could pass them without saying or writing a word, because I'm Harry fucking Potter! And you know it, so don't make a fool of yourself, because you're not!"

"Then what?! What troubles you?"

"I don't know what you want from me!"

"I want you to trust me."

"I do trust you, but I don't know what you want to hear. I just need time to be alone; I've just told you, but you're not listening to me!" he growled. For a moment she was taken aback. Harry looked as if he was about to hit her, though she would never believe that he'd do anything like that. But he'd changed lately...

"I'll go. Please, talk to someone else if you refuse to talk to me. Please, Harry. You're not yourself," she shook her head and left. Now he felt drained of emotions, so her worries hadn't touched anything in his soul.

     Harry hadn't apologised for his outburst, though he wasn't feeling good about it later. He just started to spend more time with his friends not to upset them. It wasn't even about his feelings towards them, because he was rather apathetic, it was a question of moral - not to hurt people, more likely, or a habit. Even if he was distant sometimes, he was still with them, so they had nothing to cavil at. He faked his smiles, feigned interest when they were talking. He trained his eyes to stop searching for Draco. He just couldn't look at him anymore, not only because it was pointless, but also because of the strange feeling of unreality that threatened to consume him. 'Pathetic coward,' the inner voice mocked him, but was ignored. His friends were there for him, Ginny was with him. He forgot everything in her arms, including himself. Nothing else could make him feel right, though even then there were the embers of pain deep inside of him. But that was his reality and he had to accept it as it was.

     Severus was restless and furious. In the morning he had received a letter from the Ministry. For many months Severus had fought for reducing Draco's term of suspended sentence. Not only his appeals against the decisions of the Ministry were dismissed, but one particular prosecutor demanded the review of Draco's case and his imprisonment! Cole Ledgister was known for his ruthlessness and cruelty, and his voice was weighty. At his instigation some people had not only been sentenced to Azkaban, but to the Dementor's Kiss, even when the imprisonment would have been a sufficient punishment. The death sentence hardly threatened Draco, but the imprisonment was very possible. Ledgister had also been far from being a law-abiding person during his long career, Severus was sure about it. There was no evidence, the man was careful enough, but there were rumours that some people appealed to him to get rid of their enemies 'with the help of the law'; for a good price, of course. It was one of those cases when everyone knew or, at least, suspected everything, but preferred to keep silence, not to get into trouble, especially having no evidences.

     That man had taken part in the first Draco's hearing and hadn't been satisfied with the decision. Very likely, he'd been bribed by Lucius' personal enemies or victims. Why else such an excessive zeal? Draco had to pay again... The date of the new hearing had yet to be confirmed. Severus was tired of this circus. Draco wouldn't be able to come through this again, especially in his condition and especially when there was a possibility of being sent to Azkaban. Pregnant and in a poor state of health he wouldn't have a chance to survive there. Severus wasn't about to tell his godson about the letter. It would be too much for the boy. No, Severus would fight for him with his mind, magic and fists, if necessary, but he wouldn't let them take him away.

     Calmed down and composed he was sitting at his desk, thinking of his options. He had to get help and he knew where to look for it. Why would he soil his hands in it when there were others, who deserved a chance to take vengeance?

     Two pairs of identically brown eyes were looking at him in surprise when he had knocked at the door and those who lived there had opened it. His two ex-students, brother and sister, hadn't been hard to find, since they were still living in the house of their parents.

"Professor? Come in," the man invited. They all sat down in the living room.

"Do you want some tea?" the young woman offered.

"No, thank you," Severus refused. "My apology for coming without a notice, but I don't have much time, I'm afraid. I'm here for business, so I'll go straight to the point. Cole Ledgister."

"What about him?" the woman frowned, waving the house elf, waiting for the orders, away.

"Let's just say, he has been giving me a lot of trouble lately."

"That bastard condemned our father to death. Father wasn't saint, but he never did anything that he was accused of," she said with pained expression.

"That's why I'm here. As far as I know, you tried to accuse Ledgister of bribery."

"Yes. We were threatened, so we gave it up. And we didn't have enough evidences, anyway. He's a sly dog," the man said.

"And he also possesses an official immunity," Severus said, nodding knowingly. "I need information. I need names of the people that, in your opinion, were sentenced to death unfairly. I'm sure you were making your own investigation." He was sure they knew a lot about the prosecutor and his victims; all the more so, they both worked in the Ministry and could find an access to the documents they required.

"With all respect, professor, we can't be involved in this again. We don't want to lose our jobs," the woman shook her head.

"This is not going to happen, you have my promise. By no means will your names figure in this," Severus promised.

     After a long talk, they finally agreed, and two days later Severus received a letter with a lot of information about those, who supposedly had been sentenced to death unfairly (the number of names was impressive and there were small photographs next to each name) and about the prosecutor himself. Exactly what he needed. When he finished studying the information, he put the papers aside and looked at Draco, who was napping peacefully in the armchair with his head tilting on the side. The book lay on his lap opened and his hand was resting on his stomach. Severus put the book on his desk. Carefully and slowly, not to wake up Draco, he transfigured the armchair, so its back reclined back and the boy was almost lying now. He shifted slightly in his sleep to adjust to the new position and seemed to feel more comfortable now. A small, sleepy and thankful smile appeared on his face for a moment, though his eyes remained closed. Severus covered him with the warm woollen blanket and left. He had things to do...

     He wasn't a necromancer, he knew better than to disturb the peace of the deceased. Such things always had a price to pay. Unless... Unless the deceased were restless and sought retribution. For example, the innocent murder victims. The large and old cemetery, closed for almost a century already, was a perfect place for what he intended to do. It took Severus an hour to draw all the complicated magical symbols on the ground around him, using the ink, which was made according to the special recipe. It took him even more than two hours to read the long incantation from the book and to call the particular names, visualizing each person in his mind. He had the list of names and photographs with him, so it wasn't very difficult. By the end of a ritual he felt that the night air around him grew colder and smelled like an air before the thunderstorm. A mist covered the graveyard, but he saw them. They had responded to his summons; perhaps, a half of those, who were in the list, were now there. Ugly and deformed ghosts were floating around him. Some of them had twisted 'limbs', some looked asymmetric, for example, with one 'arm' longer than the other, their 'faces' were contorted or twisted; the 'eyes' and the areas around them were just the dark voids. Some ghosts were hardly visible at all. Not many looked like normal ghosts, but even they still had defects.

     The Dementor's Kiss maimed the very soul of the person. Some souls stopped existing at all, but the strong ones were damned; they wondered and suffered without finding peace. Their ability to think and remember was taken away, but not completely.

     Their whispers were everywhere around Severus, but he couldn't understand them. Although they looked very displeased, he knew they couldn't hurt him. He was in charge.

"What do you want?" someone half-whispered, half-growled. The voice was right in his head, but somehow he knew where it was coming from. He turned to the ghost of the woman and showed her a photograph of Ledgister. She jerked away, shrieked like a mad banshee and started to rush about with the great speed, startling all the others. Severus was watching impassively at the white, shrieking and howling storm of fury around him. He'd known, they would remember the man on the photograph, the man, responsible for their sufferings. They nearly deafened Severus, but the disturbances calmed down several minutes later.

"I know what you wish for, but you will do it in my terms," he said. They moved closer. Some tried to cling to him in attempt of feeling the warmth of the living human, who summoned them, and whose soul was whole in contrast with theirs. He attached them to himself with the spell and gave them some power. After that he directed them and let them go, so they left him alone. The mist had cleared away gradually. It was almost the end of the night already and Severus wondered if he would be able to get back to school. He was tired as hell; tired physically, mentally and drained of his magic. He needed a good rest. However, he spared no time to destroy all evidence that such ritual had taken place, and pedantically removed the traces of his own magic, in case someone would investigate. It seemed it had exhausted him completely.

     His plan wasn't perfect, but it was good enough, so no one would ever guess about his participation. There was still a possibility that Ledgister would find the help of those, who could save him from the chase of the ghosts (of course, if he figured out that they were ghosts and not the insanity), but on the other hand, the old moron valued his reputation too much. He wouldn't try to lay his hands on himself out of fear either, because he was too concerned for his own skin. The death because of the heart attack or some accident wasn't ruled out, however. The ghosts wouldn't kill him premeditatedly; it was one of Severus' conditions. Now he could only wait for the results.

     It was two days already, since Ledgister had started to see them. They were looking at him through the windows from the outside of his big, rich house. At first, they scared the hell out of him, but then he tried to convince himself that his mind was playing tricks on him. After all, his wife didn't notice anything strange. He had ordered the house elves to close all the curtains in the house. But that wasn't helpful - they started to emerge their ugly faces from behind the curtains, making him freeze in horror and pull his blankets up to his chin every night. He couldn't sleep, but he was still in denial.

     And then Ledgister started to see them in the mirrors. No one else could see them, though. Frustrated, he broke every single mirror in the house, and then he ordered to board up every window, without knowing that his fears and doubts were nourishing their powers. They were becoming stronger and stronger.

     When he was taking a bath, the water appeared to be blood. He could even smell it, so he jumped out of it in horror. He closed his eyes and prayed the gods to make it stop. When he opened them, everything seemed normal. Just water. He convinced himself, that he was just tired and stressed. The very next day, however, it happened again. He was sitting in a bath full of blood. He tried not to pay attention, knowing that it wasn't real, but then he suddenly saw a human figure which came to the surface from under the water (or blood). It was sitting in front of him, pressing its back against the side of the bath, mirroring the man's pose. And it resembled inferius very much. The man's heart nearly stopped, he yelled in horror and jumped out of the bath. He slipped on the wet floor and fell, hitting the floor hard. He knew he had broken his leg, so he couldn't run. But he could still crawl. He could hear the wet footsteps behind, but couldn't bring himself to look back. His wife had heard him screaming and now was running down from the second floor. The delusion was gone, once she reached him.

     No, Ledgister didn't want any help, he didn't want to be locked up in St. Mungo's; he knew he would end up there if he told anyone. His work, his career would be destroyed. He had thought that something had happened to their house, but no, he was seeing it even at work. When he once opened the drawer of his desk, he saw an ugly face staring at him. His angry yell scared the client away. And then he saw his wife looking at her reflection in the small mirror. He'd forbidden having any mirrors in the house! Ledgister hit her face hard. Terrified, she packed her bags and moved to their daughter's house. But she didn't see anything strange, except her husband going mad. How couldn't she see?! They were everywhere! They were even lying in their bed!

     No, they never stopped harassing him. He saw their faces everywhere. They were whispering all the time. At first, he couldn't understand them, but then the voices became clearer. It felt like he could hear them right in his mind. He was going insane.

"Do you remember me?"

"I was innocent..."

"Tell them the truth."

"Not guilty! No!!!"

"Do you remember my name?"

"You have to pay."

     His hair was now completely grey, he couldn't eat, he could hardly sleep and he now was looking just a little better than the ghosts or inferi that harassed him, even though not deformed. He still couldn't decide if they were ghosts or inferi. They now seemed something in between, but he knew exactly who they were. They were constantly reminding him about who they'd been when they had been alive. At work everyone avoided him; he was forced to take a holiday. And then his entire house was in blood: bloody footprints, puddles on the floor; it was dripping down the ceilings, running down the walls. The smell of blood was everywhere and he could taste it in his mouth. Oh, he gave them so much power! It was getting worse and worse. He was feeling like he was pulled into the other world where was no place for the living. They were walking about his house freely, followed him and they never stopped talking and whispering, giving him a terrible migraine. Everything in his house looked shabby and dirty as if it hadn't been cleaned for years. And the blood...

     Three weeks later after all of it had begun, he was a complete wreck. Sitting on the bed and rocking himself back and forth with empty eyes, he could hardly pay attention to what was happening around, but he heard the voice, simultaneously in his head and near his ear:

"Do you remember what you told me: 'An open-hearted confession will unburden your soul'?" the voice whispered. Ledgister nodded, still looking into the emptiness.

     Severus didn't even have to bother to check, because three weeks later after his ritual, all wizarding papers informed about the scandal. Ledgister had confessed in bribe-taking, confessed that the evidences in many cases, where he had been involved, were fabricated, that many innocent people were rotting in Azkaban or had been sentenced to death when the real criminals had bought their freedom. No, most of his cases weren't fabricated, but for many years of his career there had been enough official malfeasances to sentence him to death and to arrest his staff. Papers also informed that he had gone crazy because of his guilty conscience and all his influence and immunity hadn't saved him.

     Everything was just as Severus had planned. Now it was a good time to write another letter to the Ministry. He insisted that Draco was just another victim of the mad and corrupt prosecutor and that the boy deserved the indulgence for all the arbitrary decisions.

     When the very next day he was summoned to the minister himself, he hoped that it was about his application, even if it seemed quite unusual. He entered the luxury office and saw the minister, sitting at his desk. Marcus Swanheart, the middle-aged man was looking quite young for his age and position. Severus had no idea how this man had been appointed to this position at all. A good election campaign, doubtlessly.

"Good morning, Mr Snape! I'm glad to inform you that you're going to be awarded with The Order of Merlin for your services during the war. The ceremony will take place this Friday, at six. And..." the man announced in a stately manner, but was interrupted.

"And I am glad to inform you that I'm not interested," Severus said unemotionally. He quickly analyzed the situation and the person in front of him. It would be stupid of him not to use such auspicious opportunity. Several workers were right there in the office. The foreign politicians were in the inner room of the office, the door was opened and he could hear the foreign speech. Not only his plans concerning Ledgister had succeeded, but he had a chance to make things even better.

"But..." The minister was confused. He hadn't expected that. The other people in the office were confused as well.

"First, I'm a private man and your pompous tea-parties do not sound thrilling to me. Second, your Ministry employees treat my godson like a scum. Should I also remind you about Skeeter's source, which appeared to be a very good friend of yours? Not very good anymore, hopefully." He wasn't talking too loud yet, not to draw the attention of the foreign guests in the inner room. It was too early for this. "And then my godson was thrown to the ill-famed corrupt prosecutor, a pathetic excuse for a man, who would have gladly put my child to rot in Azkaban. My demands for the indulgence were ignored. And yet, you have the insolence to expect me to come for some stupid trinket and shake hands with idiots when they remain deaf to such glaring injustice towards my family. In such circumstances your invitation sounds like an insult, no less. You can keep your order to yourself. Goodbye." With his last words he turned to leave.

"Wait! We can discuss it," Swanheart stopped him. Severus stopped and half-turned to him. 'So predictable.'

"Make it quick. I don't have much time," he said.

"I'll do what I can for your godson, but..."

"But what? Your excuses are going to be oriented on fools, I presume? You're the minister, in case you forgot; unless your electors have made a big mistake," he said sarcastically. One of the workers couldn't help but chuckle quietly, though coughed then and tried his best to keep the blank expression on his face. Some others tried their best to hold back the same reaction. The minister started to seethe; his face was red with embarrassment. He had to remind himself that he was talking to the respected war hero. He couldn't help but feel like a scolded child. No one talked to him in such manner! He was the minister, for Merlin's sake! And the man was undermining his authority right in front of his employees. On the other hand, the man was protecting someone he loved and was mad at the Ministry. Perhaps, his anger was fair. Swanheart also didn't want any scandals in his office, especially now that he had to produce a good impression on his foreign guests. He hoped they hadn't heard any of it. Meanwhile, Severus continued:

"I'm sure, placing your sign and a seal on the couple of papers won't take much effort from you. If the full pardon is impossible, for some reason, my godson has to be, at least, exempted from the humiliating interrogations that take place every month and do not make any sense. Tracking spells should be removed as well. This would be a good start."

     Swanheart looked through the summoned Draco's files for several minutes and then nodded.

"The Ministry can place him under your guardianship, so he and his actions will be your responsibility during his term of suspension. No interrogations, no tracking spells. Usually we don't do it for the persons of the full legal age, but in some cases we can make exceptions," he offered.

"Good option," Severus agreed.

     After returning from the ceremony Friday evening, Severus watched with amusement as his prince was happily overeating himself with apples, reading the book on magical gemstones and methods of enchanting them for different purposes. He had always had a weakness for apples, but lately he had really fallen on yellow, sweet, juicy fruits, and the elves of the castle were happy to provide him with anything he liked. Knowing that he was with child, not only they satisfied all his whims about the food, but they also kept his secret. After all, it was their duty to take care about the inhabitants of the castle, especially someone so vulnerable, who needed it most, and someone, who shouldn't worry about anything at all. They wouldn't tell anyone, even the headmistress, because this would upset young sir and his baby.

     Draco started to look better. Dark circles around his eyes almost disappeared, his hair was again shiny and healthy, his skin was normally pale for him. He was no longer skin and bones and looked like several months ago before Harry had left him, before Draco's pregnancy, with the exception of his nicely rounding out belly. It was still small and wasn't really obvious when he was fully clothed. Good changes were definitely the result of his improved appetite and good sleep; and his morning sickness was long gone.

"You're early," the boy said. "How was the ceremony? Oh, don't tell me. Let me guess; you've listened to the minister's boring speech, mentally criticizing his every word, took the order and just left with the spectacular billowing of your robes behind you, vouchsafing no glance to the Ministry fools or annoying reporters," Draco chuckled. It was just a good-natured banter.

"Exaggeration, but quite close," Severus replied. He sat at his desk and opened the book. Draco became more serious.

"I received a letter this morning. A letter from the Ministry. They exempted me from interrogations and tracking. I'm under your surveillance now," he said, watching the man carefully.

"I'm glad for you," Severus said without tearing himself away from reading.

"Oh, come on! I know you since the first day of my life," the boy chuckled.

"Since the third day," the man corrected.

"It doesn't matter. Just tell me how you did it."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course," Draco smirked. "Thank you," he added seriously.

"You're welcome."

     They were reading for about an hour. The blond had another question and couldn't bring himself to ask. Severus finally looked at him to encourage Draco to say whatever he wanted to say.

"Speak already," he sighed.

"Harry was there, on the ceremony, wasn't he?" the blond asked. Severus noticed the pained expression.

"Of course, he was. As far as I know, he left shortly before me, after receiving his order. He refused to stay for the celebration."

"I see..."

     Another week passed and the N.E.W.T.s started. Draco was pacing the room, reading aloud the book on History of Magic, preparing himself for the first exam.

"Draco, my head is going round. Stop worrying," Severus said.

"I can't. I must concentrate. Merlin, what if I fail?" the blond replied nervously.

"I doubt that."

"Would you please check me? Ask me anything."

"Close your book then," the man sighed. It was a hard time for him as a teacher too.

     Draco had an outstanding result for the first exam and left the classroom in high spirits, but it didn't last. He was unlucky enough to stumble on Harry and his girlfriend in the corridor, and his features darkened. They were kissing... Apparently, it was her way to congratulate Harry on his successfully passed exam. The brunet wasn't noticing Draco with his back turned on him, but Ginny caught the sight of the blond. Her blue eyes opened and were now looking at Draco; she didn't break the kiss, though. Draco saw something in her eyes and immediately realised what it was... The triumph. She was glad that he was seeing it! Had Harry told her about what they had had? Then it meant Draco was probably a laughingstock among Harry's and Weasley's friends, on top of everything. 'Most likely, you told her everything about us. I doubt that you have secrets from each other...' By the look of her eyes he could tell that she was aware that she was literally dancing on his bones right now. He wondered if his face betrayed the hurt. Why did she even bother to gloat? She had won long ago, long before he and Harry had had... something.

     He quickly left them alone, just walked away with the pain in his chest. Harry was hers. She was the only one for him. And Draco had been nothing at all. Nonentity... 'Harry, I hate you. I hate you so much. You keep hurting me with your very existence.'

     The blond Slytherin passed all the exams with the very good results, but his mood was terrible. He refused to go to the school-leaving party (not that he'd planned to go there at all) and isolated himself in his room. But some time later the elf of the castle appeared before him.

"Young sir, the headmistress insists you to be there," he said.

"I can't," Draco shook his head.

"If you refuse to celebrate, she says, you should be there to take pictures. Such day is only once in a sir's lifetime," the small creature said, looking at him pleadingly. Draco sighed and promised to be there soon. He got dressed in seemly clothes: the white shirt, the Slytherin's tie, and the dark-grey waistcoat, trousers and long robes. He closed the robes in the front to hide his belly as he had been usually doing lately.

     He only took part in the photo call and he was quite distinguished among the plenty of smiling faces, - his face was far from being joyful.

     Harry was watching him, realising that it was probably the last time he was seeing him. 'Beautiful, still a prince, no matter what. I wish you good luck and happiness, Draco. You deserve it...' he thought. The blond left soon enough when the pictures had been taken. Suddenly Harry wasn't in the mood for celebration. He wanted to run away and stay alone far from the noise. His mind now was in a haze. He wanted to feel anything, he knew he had to feel something right now, but he couldn't. In the beginning of the school year he had known that it would be very hard for him to leave Hogwarts, but now he couldn't decide what exactly he was feeling. He hated this indeterminacy of his emotions. Recently he had this feeling, concerning almost everything.

     The next morning Draco was following Harry with his eyes, watching him through the window in the corridor of the second floor. Harry was leaving the school along with his friends forever. The brunet was talking about something with Weasleys and Granger. They all were in a good mood. 'Please, turn around. Please, look at me one last time. Please...' But it never happened. And now Draco really felt that he was left behind. If he'd had some very faint hope before, a hope, for which he'd always scolded himself in his thoughts, hardy realising that it had really been there at all; now it was really gone. Everything was over. Harry was leaving... The blond put his hand on his rounding out belly, already quite noticeable, and closed his eyes not to let his tears escape. His heart hurt in every sense of the word. How could it break even more when it had already been broken? He took the potion out of his pocket to ease the pain. When he looked through the window again, Harry was already nowhere to be seen. There were only the small groups of the students that had already started to leave too. For the moment he was on the verge of running after Harry, throwing his arms around his neck and begging him to stay or even telling him that he was carrying his child. But he would only make a fool of himself. Yes, he could use it and he could play upon the goddamned Gryffindorish nobility. Harry would hardly repudiate his child. But no, that would be stupid. If he stayed with Draco, in this case, he would stay out of pity and sense of duty. That would be humiliating. Draco didn't need the charity and pathetic leavings! Perhaps, Harry would even be mad at him for ruining his plans or would even think that everything had been set up. Not likely, but... No, it wasn't even worth thinking. 'I'd never debase myself like that,' he thought. No, he wouldn't stoop to such things. The next moment he was angry. How could Harry walk away so easily, leaving all the emotional and physical burden on Draco? But this feeling quickly left him too. There was only emptiness and unbearable loneliness.

"Goodbye forever, the-boy-who's-never-loved-me," he said quietly. He heard some strange sounds and not immediately he realised that he was hearing his own heartbroken sobs, escaping unchecked between his trembling lips. The traitorous tears... Why did it still hurt so badly?

     He headed to his room just to hide there. The tears clouded his eyesight over. He was thinking on the way, walking slowly. 'Some people live alone for all their lives, without their so-called 'better halves'. Severus seems to be quite all right with it. I'm probably destined to be alone. It's better than giving myself to just anyone. I'm hard to get on with, anyway. Harry is going to have a new life. I was an adventure, an experiment, perhaps. What was I thinking? It was stupid. I'm alone...' Suddenly something happened that convinced him that he wasn't quite alone. It startled him and made him stop. A movement inside of him. During this week he had been feeling something like this from time to time. The movements. But they had been so faint that it was hard to tell for sure. And now it was stronger. Not a kick yet, but still tangible. It was logical, since he was already twenty weeks pregnant.

     Instead of his own room, he came to Severus'. He sat down in the armchair and slightly rubbed his palms against each other with the faraway look of his eyes. The man didn't have to ask what was wrong and why his godson's eyelids were red. For some time Draco was silent and thoughtful, but then he couldn't help but start talking.

"He's just left. It felt like I've lost him for the second time. I was just a fool... I was dreaming about the impossible. I promised myself not to, but..." he said, holding back tears. The corners of his lips sank down because of his efforts. The older man didn't know what to say. Anything he said wouldn't be helpful in this situation. It wasn't a good time for the words. He just approached Draco from behind and put his hand on the shoulder of the slightly shaking boy. There was another small movement below the broken heart.
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To Find The Missing Lifeline