Constellation of Frustration

I drove silently through the night, my eyes trained on the road in front of me. I used to love driving. I bought this car as a gift to myself when I got my first pay packet. I had taken up the offer of working at the Ministry, working in the department of Muggle Relations. Besides being an extravagant treat, the car was a necessity if I expected to get on in the Muggle world.

Now I hate the sight of it. It holds too many memories for me, memories of Draco. He would sprawl out next to me in the passenger seat, his knee bent and pressing against the dashboard, his foot on the seat. He always liked to have his window wound down, allowing the wind to blow through the car and mess up his hair. He always looked so free and beautiful.

I couldn't stand the silence any longer, and I reached out and turned on the radio. The sudden blast of music was a welcome distraction from my memories, and I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel in time to the relenting beat. The song came to an end and the whispering strains of a piano resounded through the night as the next song started. I swallowed thickly. Draco had always loved the song. He had even bought a piano and spent hours practicing scales so he could learn how to play it. I reached for the radio again, ready to tune it into a different station, when I changed my mind. Call me masochistic, but I needed to be reminded of Draco; of the crushing pain in my chest. Perhaps I needed to allow the memories to consume me before I could lay them to rest.

I looked out of the window and up into the ink of the sky through the canopy of trees. I was far away from the City by now, and here the stars shone brightly. I searched for Draco's star, frustration filling me as I failed to locate the constellation. Even the sky had decided that Draco wasn't mine to have.

I wondered what he was doing right at this moment; how he was feeling. Was he thinking about me and what we once had? It was the anniversary of his Father's death, the anniversary of the final battle in the long drawn out war. Was he celebrating or drowning his grief in the bottom of a bottle? I wondered if he remembered what I told him last year on this day, as I held him in my arms. He was weeping against my shoulder, his tears staining my skin. I told him that his Father's death wasn't his responsibility, that everyone had chosen a side, and his Father had chosen the dark. Draco had sobbed into my neck, repeating his mantra about family loyalty and his betrayal. I whispered into his hair, telling him that loyalty like his father's was not real loyalty. I had kissed his forehead and he looked up at me, his eyes wide and full with a lifetime of defeat. We kissed for the first time.

I looked back to the road in front of me, and put my foot down a little more. The day would be breaking in a couple of hours and I still had miles to go before I reached my destination. I was heading towards Scotland, to the small house where Ron and Hermione lived. They were getting married in a couple of day's time, and of course, I was best man. For a fleeting second I wondered if Draco would be there. I was certain he would be. No doubt that meant that his new partner would be there too.

My eyes turned black as my thoughts flitted back to Draco and that man. They would probably both be asleep in Draco's bed. It killed me to think of Draco's legs tangled with someone else's, his arm casually thrown over someone else's chest, his lips on another’s mouth. I wondered if he made Draco smile, and if he did then what kind of smile. I wondered if he only made Draco smirk, or perhaps smile in that slow sort of way that made the corner of his mouth twitch. I wondered if perhaps Draco honoured him with the million watt smile that reached his eyes and made them twinkle; the smile that could shatter a heart. Despite the bitterness that had seeped into my body, flowing through my veins and poisoning everything that we had shared, I hoped that Draco did smile. God knows, one of us should be smiling, and I haven't smiled for months. Not a real smile.

I wondered if this new guy could give Draco everything he needed, whether he knew that Draco liked to sleep late and have coffee in bed. I wondered if he allowed Draco to spend hours fussing over his hair, as he liked to do. I wonder if he tolerated being woken up in the night when Draco decided that he couldn't possibly sleep without some cocoa, or hearing a certain song, or being read a passage in a book. I wondered if he fit with Draco better than I ever did, whether he could fill the gap that I couldn't even locate. I wondered if he soothed his soul, and held him when he cried. I wondered if he took Draco to his parent's graves and watched over him as he raked his hands through the ground under the headstone, his nails filling with dirt. I wondered if he chased the rain clouds away and gave Draco sunshine.

I tried to be happy, I really did. I wanted for Draco more than I wanted anything else in my entire life. If I couldn't give him what he needed then I hoped someone else could. I didn't hate Draco for leaving me and looking for salvation in another person's arms. Nevertheless, I hated the object of his affections. I hated that he could mend the holes I couldn't even find.

I realised I was crying when the road became a blur in front of me. I tried to wipe my eyes with my fingers, moving my hands from the steering wheel for an instant. That second cost me my life as my car careened off the road straight into a brick wall. As I sat in my seat, bleeding to death, my glasses broken on my face, I looked out at the night sky. I finally spotted Draco up there, brighter than all of the other stars. And I knew he would be alright.