𝑆𝐴𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 𝑀𝐴𝐿𝐹𝑂𝑌

𝐃

If there ever was a person who could save me, it was her.

She would walk into the classroom and bring the smell of coffee and books with her. There weren’t enough chunky, green sweaters over white cotton shirts in the world to satisfy her needs.

No one could hate her, and neither could I.

She was the smile you give to a stranger when they seem sad.

She was the warmth of the sun on the first day of spring.

She was the first cool breeze after a heatwave.

She was every hope you would ever see in this world.

𝐎

November 23rd, 1997

Dear Margot,

If there was a time that we were truly happy, it was in the woods.

We reached the meadow by sunrise. We had spent all night Disapparating back and forth and back again, erasing all traces, making ourselves invisible. We were sure Draco’s parents would start looking for him again, so we knew we would have to move every couple of days until we became fully lost. But that meadow was everything we had ever dreamed of; wildflowers and falling leaves, old pine trees and crisp, morning air. It was the right place to start healing.

I headed straight into the woods to start hunting, while Draco put protective spells around us. He was always good with them because he was the most protective person I knew. I returned with a rabbit on my right hand and a few berries on the left one. Draco had already built the tent.

“Welcome home!” he said with a wide smile, walking quickly towards me.

He closed my eyes tightly and led me inside. The man had thought of everything. He had extended the tent just enough to make it comfortable, laid flooring, built a bed, lit a heater, put his books on a stack, warm clothes in a trunk next to the guitar case.

“Welcome home,” he repeated, this time with a lower voice of satisfaction.

It did feel like home.

We slept heavily all afternoon. How could a tent feel so much like a house?

I woke up only because I was fully rested; the first time in months. Draco was still snoozing at my side. I wore Draco’s sweater, the green and silver one, the one from that winter’s day over Hogwarts. The air was crisp as I walked outside. Sunset was close.

I threw my head back, closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

I heard Draco’s footsteps approaching from behind. He closed his arms around me and let me rest my back on his chest. I felt his heartbeat. We admired the sun sinking between the mountains, our breaths fogging.

“We made it.” The smile was audible in his voice.

“Isn’t it lovely? Alone at last...”

“All alone,” he said, his voice melting.

“All alone,” I repeated after him.

Now I could feel tears of joy and bliss blocking my vision.

If there ever was a time that we were happy, it was in the woods. We erased our bad memories with fresh air and sunsets. Draco had his poetry; I had my notebook.

He started smiling wider, laughing louder. The Dark Mark stopped burning as much. The scars on his arm were healing.

If there ever was a time that we were happy, it was in the woods.

Draco was safe.

Almost saved.

See you soon,

Ophelia