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  Dedicated to August888itshappenin

"IT'S OKAY." SHE said, trying to convince herself more than him. But more often than not their words did not equate to actuality. It was not okay. Not many things were anymore.

"It's okay," Seven shook her head, the affirmation settling heavy in her bones, "It doesn't matter what we were before the war, it only matters what we are now."

Draco laughed; cold and mocking, "And what are we now?"

Survivors, she wanted to say, but that wasn't what he meant.

"What we were before the war means everything." Said Draco, staring out over the dim horizon where a lone bird tracked a solitary path across the stars.

Seven frowned, looking down at her hands, at the finelines that were clean from blood for what felt like the first time in forever. How many people had she killed? She didn't know. "Not to me, it doesn't."

He laughed again, only it was different this time; lighter even though her thoughts had spiralled into the dark, "It would if you knew what you were."

That's exactly what she was afraid of. What if she was a monster? What if the person she had spent all this time fighting to rediscover was not a person worth fighting for?

"And what were you, then?" She asked, staring at him and trying to place him as anything other than what he was now. It was hard to imagine Draco as young, unburdened, filled with hope. "You never told me about your life before."

"I was a Death Eater, Seven." He said grimly as if there was nothing more to it.

"You know that's not what I meant, and even then you were more than just that, so tell me."

It was only a flicker, but Seven could've sworn she saw a hint of the old Draco coming through again. The slump in his shoulders straightened fractionally, and a joviality toyed at the corner of his mouth, "Guess."

She took a moment to think about it, "Well that depends, how old are you now?"

"Twenty-one."

"So you were in your final year at Hogwarts then, I'm guessing?"

"I was, we were two weeks from graduating when the war began."

"We?" She picked up on it instantly, the word a flashing beacon of hope to her midnight mind. "Did you know me, then? — before, I mean."

Seven had never quite been sure exactly how old she was, especially now, when everyone around her looked so worn down by life. Draco looked older than his twenty-one years, but then again, so did she.
Their trauma had been beaten into them from a young age, and though their faces weren't wrinkled or lined, the wickedness found other ways to make itself known. It weighed down the corners of their lips, made smiles few and far between, it homed in the dead of their eyes, in the hollows of their cheeks. In the emptiness of chest and mind.

Even before the war, Hogwarts had been the only wizarding school in the country — it wouldn't have been surprising if they would have known each other before. Seven knew that if she was schooled, it would've been at Hogwarts.

"No." He said, and she felt her heart deflate, knowing deep down that this would be the answer. It had been too good to be true. Of course he hadn't known her before, if he had he would've told her months ago, there was no point in hiding a thing like that.

  As if sensing the change in her he added, "At least, not exactly... I mean, I did, in a way, but not directly." He spoke slowly, deliberately, thinking through each word before letting it loose like a bullet to the air, "I think you were in the year below, we never actually spoke but I probably saw you around the school a few times."

  Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, fighting for speach through the thousand of questions that suddenly flooded her, "Draco — I — why did you never mention this before? — What do you mean you knew me? — Did you know my name? — Who I was?"

He gave her a sad smile, eyes glazed and closed off, not a single thought falling through, "I'm sorry, Seven. I didn't know anything about you, I just... I recognised you the moment I first saw you again."

Seven blinked for the first time in what felt like forever, and when she did, a tear crawled down her cheek. I'm sorry, Seven.

  "But... You must know something..." She pleaded as if that would change the answer. It wouldn't. Nothing could. "Anything, can't you remember anything at all?"

His silence was answer enough. Condemning her to another life of unknowing.
A sob struck her chest, as violent as a blade and forced the air from her lungs. Seven held her hands to her breast, clutching at the place where she felt her heartbreak, as if by holding it she could keep it all together. As if she wouldn't fall apart. She had fractured long ago, those broken pieces running deep and sure, but finally, they'd fallen apart. They tore at her insides like glass splinters and with each breath they lodged themselves deeper. There was no end to this agony.

This life was cruel. It wasn't kind, especially to a girl like Seven. It hurt to think, what had she done in her past life to be deserving of a fate like this?

"Come here," He said. She did.
  He slipped an arm around the small girl, her head automatically relaxing back into the home of his chest, closing her eyes as if that would make the world go away.

"I might not have known you back then," He whispered, dipping his head so his lips brushed the side of her neck, "But I wish I had."

Something stirred inside of her, something innate, forbidden, something that if left to manifest would never leave. It burred its roots deep inside of her, aching as thorns, and grew its vines around her heart. Something so warm, so affectionate that it hurt to think about.

"I wish you had, too." Maybe things would've been different that way. Maybe she'd have a name — maybe even a face to put to this impossible thing she was chasing. "How did you know it was me, that first night in Lust?"

He laughed softly, "Seven, I would recognise you anywhere, at the ends of the earth and in death. From the first moment I saw you, you had me — and you've never let me go since. Where you go, I go."

Out of everything he had ever said to her, all the horrible and hateful things, somehow those were the words that hurt her the most. Because they were a lie. It was too good to be true.
  She pushed away, turning to face him, eyes bright and shining fresh with hurt, "What about your fiance, Draco? She's out there somewhere, waiting for you..."

"No. She's not."

  He seemed so certain. Seven's chest ached with the crushing weight of all the things she could never say. I would wait for you. There was question in her eyes, wide and vivid green in the way only Mother Nature could command.

  "I left her," He looked suddenly ashamed, unable to meet her gaze, "For you..."

  This night kept delivering blow after blow. She didn't know how much more she could take. "But, why?"

He looked at her then, as if truly seeing her for the first time. Anarchy pooled in the depths of his irises, a kind of unbridled ferality Seven had never seen from him before. For once, when he stepped closer she didn't back away. "Because I thought I could stay away from you, Seven, but I can't." He said it like it was his worse confession, his most cardinal sin, as if this was his judgement day and Seven was his god.

He was so close, and yet, never close enough. Seven's breath caught in her throat, not knowing how to respond, so instead she did the only thing she could think to do. The most terrifying thing of all.
  Draco was a loaded gun, and every time she willingly put the barrel to her head, desperate for any other ending than the one she'd been given, praying things would be different.
  Every time she pulled the trigger, and every time he killed her in a different way. Perhaps this would be no different. She didn't care. She'd let him kill her one thousand times if only one of those he'd mourn her like she mourned him.

And so again, she took the risk, blinded by her need to be needed, and kissed him.

***
QOTD- Do you feel like you know draco a little better now? Or is this all just another lie to manipulate seven?