Chapter 44: 1-2

"Do you want it?"

"Huh?"

I asked Harry, whose eyes were glued to something beyond a certain shop window. My own cheeks felt a bit warm, too.

—It was the Firebolt. The partner destined to succeed the Nimbus 2000 was displayed proudly, gleaming under the light of the glass window.

"...Yeah. I think it’s brilliant. But, not right now. We don't have that kind of money."

"Yes we do, in the vault."

"Mum and Dad's money is for us to live on. Are you planning to empty it just for things I want?"

"I really wouldn't mind, though."

"Maria, you're an absolute idiot sometimes."

He nudged me, and we shared a giggle. ...Ah.

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

"You've grown taller."

"...Oh, you're right."

Reflected side-by-side in the shop window, the height difference between us was gone. A year or two ago, I was a whole fist taller than him.

"Boys have it so easy. Are you going to overtake me soon? As your older sister, I'm quite vexed."

"Well, I am the older brother, after all."

Exchanging our usual banter, we stepped away from the window with lingering regret.

...I pray we'll meet again. Firebolt.

I fixed up Harry's outgrown robes, and then we headed to Flourish and Blotts to buy our new textbooks. The Monster Book of Monsters that Hagrid had given me for my birthday was engaging in a fierce battle inside its cage, so at the till, I advised the manager that it was best to stroke the spine. On the way back, we bought different flavors of ice cream and shared them while doing our homework.

Life at the Leaky Cauldron was truly fulfilling.

As the new term approached, the number of Hogwarts students in Diagon Alley surged. Harry managed to meet up with Ron and Hermione, and listened intently to the stories of their holidays. Ron, having gotten a brand-new wand of his very own—not a hand-me-down—thanks to the prize money his dad won, seemed unusually eager for classes to start.

Suddenly, a familiar head of blond hair flashed in the distance. Excusing myself from the kids who were deep in conversation, I followed it. —Ah, I knew it.

"Draco."

"Maria."

Standing alone, he turned around, looking slightly surprised.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Likewise. ...Alone, I see?"

In my mind, the strong impression remained that the younger him was always flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and by his parents whenever he was outside. So, seeing him alone made me feel somewhat restless. He's a young master, yet he doesn't even have an attendant?

"I've already finished acquiring everything I need. I'm on free time now."

"...Then, how about spending the rest of your time on a date with me?"

"...With pleasure."

I walked beside him, playing along with his poor attempt to hide his feelings. I'm sure Lucius and Narcissa still love him just the same. Lucius on that day definitely had the face of a parent.

They are people with such deep capacity for love. —Surely, they can change, even if just a little, from here on out.

"—Does your idea of a date involve drinking tea in this shabby pub?"

"Call it 'rustic charm'."

I greeted Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, and we headed up to the guest room.

"...Hey, Maria."

"A date at a fancy cafe would be boring for the young master Malfoy, wouldn't it? —How about an indoor date?"

I locked the door behind my back and gave a cheeky grin.

"For a lady's invitation, that's quite bold and forceful."

"What we're about to discuss isn't exactly meant for other people's ears, is it?"

"...Sirius Black."

"Correct. —I met him. I met Sirius."

I urged him to take a chair while I sat on the bed. I quickly brewed some tea using the leaves Tom had restocked while I was out.

"Is that rat still with Weasley?"

"Of course. I won't let him escape."

I'm keeping as close an eye on him as I can.

"—Why haven't you caught him to begin with? You've had plenty of chances."

I answered his perfectly reasonable question while wetting my throat with the tea. ...Ah, I can't taste it at all.

"Ron actually cares a lot about Scabbers in his own way. If I suddenly snatched him away, the trust I've built would be ruined instantly. ...Besides, the time isn't right."

"...Hmm? The time, you say."

"Even if I caught that rat right now and handed him over to the Ministry of Magic—Sirius wouldn't be freed."

Draco, who was stirring my poorly made tea with a teaspoon, raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

"...What makes you think that? Sirius Black was falsely accused, wasn't he?"

"He was. It was a massive miscarriage of justice. The investigation was sloppy, the circumstantial evidence was flimsy, there was no interrogation using Veritaserum, and they didn't even use Prior Incantato to check his wand. Even a child could tell something was wrong. —From the very beginning, the Ministry fully intended to lock up 'Sirius Black'. He had to be the culprit."

I met his ice-grey eyes, which silently urged me to continue. No matter how much tea I drank, my throat remained parched.

"Think about it. The Ministry at the time was being utterly battered by the Dark faction. They desperately needed to score a victory to salvage their reputation. And right then, the Sirius Black scandal falls into their laps. They couldn't afford not to use it. The glory of capturing one of Voldemort's followers—even fabricating him to be his right-hand man—the sensationalism of Wizarding royalty betraying his friend, the sweet reward of seizing the assets of the final Head of the Black family due to his exposed crimes... It was nothing but benefits for them."

I shrugged, mentally spitting at the image of Fudge's face that popped into my head. I hate that man. I hate Umbridge even more, though.

"They didn't care about the real culprit. As long as they could frame Sirius, that was enough. —Imagine casually presenting the perfect evidence of the real culprit in that situation. It would just be swept under the rug, existence and all."

"So—you were waiting for the right time?"

"Exactly. Basically, we need an incident so big the Ministry can't cover it up. —For example, testimonies of seeing Peter Pettigrew coming from trustworthy adults like Hogwarts professors, or from students who had absolutely zero involvement in the past incidents. ...Something like that."

I let out a breath and took another sip of tea. Draco narrowed his eyes, looking somewhat satisfied.

"...Well? Was it the same as what you were thinking?"

"More or less."

He replied with an impassive face, and I offered a cynical smile, realizing he had been testing me. What a wicked personality.

"That's the official reason."

"Hm?"

This time, Draco looked up, genuinely puzzled.

"The truth is—I was just scared."

I recalled the feel of his body; you could trace his bones just by touching him. His hair was matted with mud, and he truly looked like a Grim reeking of death.

"I've been trying not to think about it. I've been keeping an eye on Scabbers, but I refused to look any closer than that. ...It hurt too much to remember Sirius."

I let go of the empty teacup and clenched my fists on my lap.

"His existence is so raw. If I thought about him—just doing that felt like it would paralyze me. Everyone that 'I' let die—"

"Maria."

A hard voice cut off my confession.

"What on earth are you misunderstanding?"

"Huh?"

Misunderstanding—?

"No one died because of you."

"What...?"

Draco also set his teacup down and stared straight at me with eyes of a cold hue.

"If we're talking about the people close to you who died in that era... Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, and—Severus Snape, I suppose."

"...That's right... I—because of me, everyone..."

"Don't you get it? —They were all adults."

"............"

I furrowed my brows, making no effort to hide my bewilderment. ...What is he trying to say?

"Sigh... This is exactly why you're the Hero. How old were you back then? You weren't even of age. Even during the final battle, you had barely reached adulthood. The 'victims' you speak of were all adults older than you. —Every single one of them fought alongside you and protected you based on their own judgment."

"────"

"Originally, you had no business being on the front lines; you were a child who was supposed to be protected. Yet... ah, was it a prophecy? You were forcefully propped up as a hero because of something like that and made to bear the brunt of it all. If anything, you should be angry. The adults who risked their lives to protect you stood there of their own volition, based on their own decisions. Meaning, their deaths were their own doing. Their own responsibility. It was a burden they chose to bear. So—what gives you the right to selfishly steal that from them? You arrogant fool."

Hearing him spit out those words made my mind go blank.

How—how could there be such a convenient excuse?

"Responsibility arises from duty and choice. Adults have a duty to protect children. Therefore, it was only natural for you to be protected. What of it? Are you saying that just because you were the Hero, you had to protect everyone, even as a child? And if you failed, it was your fault? That—is the height of hubris, Potter."

Seeing the face of the old Malfoy—ridiculing me with a gaze of pure contempt—made my blood boil instantly.

"—B-But! Sirius died because of my lapse in judgment! Because I was tricked! Because I didn't listen to everyone's warnings! And Fred—Cedric was just completely dragged into it—!"

"Correct. You made a bad call—and Sirius went along with it. Right? That's what I heard from Granger. And as for Fred Weasley, he decided to fight himself, didn't he? Was anyone forced to fight in that war? We were all given a way out beforehand—just like we were. Those who stayed must have had the resolve to do so. And even if they didn't, that is the responsibility of those who stayed."

"Regarding Cedric Diggory, saying he was dragged into it might be accurate. Even so, he had the skill to be chosen as the Hogwarts Champion—even setting aside his lack of life-or-death practical experience—he was not in a position to be protected by you. Besides, was it by your own will that he got dragged into it?"

"............"

The words quietly spilling from his thin lips, beneath narrowed ice-grey eyes, were by no means a consolation.

From the bottom of his heart—Draco Malfoy was scolding me, telling me not to be so full of myself.

"Allow me to say it once more. —Do not flatter yourself, Potter. The phrase 'I couldn't protect them' is only allowed to be spoken by someone who actually possessed the power to protect the other person but failed despite struggling to the end. You, who were the one supposed to be protected, have neither the qualification nor the right to say that. They died because of you? —Wrong. Every single one of them laid down their lives to protect you of their own free will. Those words are an insult to the adults who thought of you and fought. Don't act the Hero when you don't even want to be one. Stop trying to make yourself into a hero. ...I don't want your heart to remain a Hero's."

"Draco..."

The lips before me tightened, and fingers with a low body temperature slid against my cheek.

"I told you. ...I hate your heroism."

"...Yes."

His finger stroked the corner of my eye.

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You're weak, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You never wanted to be a hero, did you?"

"Yes..."

Before I knew it, my vision was filled with white, and I smelled a clean scent. I could hear the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat.

"You are certainly incredible. No ordinary wizard could match you. Defeating a monster like a Basilisk, fighting the one everyone fears and surviving time and time again—but, that's not 'a matter of course.' It's not something to be taken for granted just because you're the Hero, Harry Potter. ...I'm desperately trying to catch up to you, so don't go any further away."

Being looked at with those pleading eyes, I felt as if time had stopped.

He seemed like ice, yet he was so warm.

"Maria—don't become a hero."

"────"

...Ah, I see. You—look like you're about to cry again.

"...I don't want to let anyone die."

"I know."

"I don't want anyone to die."

"If that comes true, it would be a miracle."

"But, we 'know'—we can stop it—! What if, what if a lapse in my judgment causes someone who survived last time to die—? What if Ron or Hermione dies—? That would undeniably be my fault! Because we know, which gives us that much room to make choices!"

"Wrong."

His word of denial sounded somewhat lonely.

"It's our responsibility."

"Ah..."

"You're the one who said it. That we are weak. ...Don't go doing reckless things all by yourself. Don't selfishly steal away my responsibility. ...I'm a Slytherin, you know. I can't stand having power and rights snatched away from me from the sidelines."

Seeing him smile so infuriatingly with our noses almost touching, I finally felt the thirst in my throat quenched.

"...You're only mature when it comes to things like this."

"I did receive an education quite different from the common folk."

"For all that, your bullying was awfully childish, Malfoy."

"............I always knew it would come back to bite me in the end. In fact, I suffered payback that traumatized me for life, didn't I?"

"Liar. I highly doubt you had the brains for that back then."

"Ugh... You really are a Potter!"

"What kind of nonsensical insult is that?"

With every light laugh, I felt the stagnation in my chest washing away.

I'll probably sink back into the depths of overthinking and regret once I actually meet Sirius. I'm arrogant, quick-tempered, and stubborn. I'm not smart enough to understand and accept everything all at once, nor am I docile.

And Draco—will probably say those same words to me every single time.

Don't flatter yourself. — Don't carry it all alone.

"...I'm glad you're here."

He didn't reply to my soft murmur.