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'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street
- Driver’s License, Olivia Rodrigo
She’s as blue as the first night I saw her. A death trap, I’d called her back then. Now, under my hand, she feels like coming home.
“Draco…” Pansy’s hovering at the entrance of the garage, looking concerned and pitying, acting as if her voice will convince me to not go. As if. I slip my hand under the door handle and gently open her up.
The loved leather seats, the half-naked stick, the fading dash--it’s all the same, and for a moment, you’re almost sitting there in the passenger seat again, with that challenging smirk and those enticing curls. I run a finger over the steering wheel, and it comes away with a layer of dust, bringing the musty smell of a space abandoned. If she were still yours…
I climb in.
“Draco…” Pansy repeats, stepping in behind me. When she leans forward into the window, her hair falls in straight black lines, sliding off her luxurious coat and spilling in. “You don’t have to do this, Draco.”
First the mirrors, whisper your memories, and I reach up and adjust the rear view just so to see the soft gray clouds roll into the sky outside.
“At least take one of us with you, Draco, come on.”
I pause at the sight of her red nails curling on the window sill.
“Don’t drive alone in that muggle death trap, thinking of him-”
The breeze brushes along my shoulder (seatbelts, not sticking charms), and I reach behind to strap myself in.
“Draco-”
“Pansy,” Blaise interrupts gruffly from behind her. I look up, and he’s wrapped an arm around her waist, gently pulling her away from the car. He catches my eyes and nods. “A man’s gotta have some closure, darling. You just trust him.”
“Don’t you darling me, you nitwit,” Pansy snarls back. “It’s not right, worrying me, still wasting his time over that- that selfish-”
I turn on the blinkers and back out of the driveway, drowning out the rest of her sentence. Reverse, turn, drive. Stop sign, count till three. It’s the rollback they look for. White walls, black railings, green bushes—turn, and Pansy’s house rolls into nothingness on the rearview mirror.
You shouldn’t mind her, you know. Pansy. That’s just- you know how protective she is of me, don’t you? Well. Not like you care anyway. Not anymore. A traffic light, and a street sign, a change of directions. Indicators! Draco! from the passenger seat. I turn my head to the side, and for a split second, the leather seats smell- they smell- and I can almost reach- no. It’s gone. A storm boils up within me until the arrow flickers green on my dash, then that’s gone too, and I’m numb again. Unfeeling, cruel, cold. (why’d you leave too?)
I guess what I was trying to say was… I don’t think you’re selfish. At least I try not to think that of you. I swear, I do. I try my best. I know you had your reasons, you tried your best, you didn’t mean to hurt me. (i wasn’t enough, or was it that i was too much? too loud, too selfish, too slytherin? did i love too little?)
At the next crossing, the map tells me to take a right. I take a left. Onto a path I’ve walked innumerable times, waking and asleep, under a canopy of stars and bright sun, alone and… alone. That park over there? You wouldn’t know it, but it has a tire swing- your favorite. Creaks every other oscillation. That corner there? An ice cream truck parks every Tuesday evening. Sells all of Teddy’s favorite flavors. This spot I’m passing here? No trees overhead, but buildings block the sun in the evenings. Perfect place to park. I always wanted to bring you here. I wanted to bring you to so many places, do so many things, buy so many presents…. You didn’t give me the time, the chance. (maybe if you did- maybe if I had more time- maybe if I’d put fewer things off for later-)
For the first time ever, I turn onto the main street without you in the passenger seat. Quaint shops pass me on either side, some I don’t recognize. I stop at the red light and glance towards the coffee place we went to for our first date. In the past year and a half, it seems nothing has changed— the decorations, the busy lines, the cute waiter you tried to make me jealous with. And you leaning against the entrance, waiting for me to catch up— I turn back sharply to look again, but you’re not there anymore. The dormant heartache I’ve carried around ever since you left takes a breath and expands like a living entity, fluttering all over in my body. I grit my teeth and look away.
Two more lights, and another turn. By muscle memory, I stop right outside the third blue building. It stands there, looking the same, looking like it's still ours except- the for sale sign is gone. That rose bush there, that’s new. And the windows are cleaner. The little ornaments Teddy hung up at our door whenever he visited, they’re gone. The door opens, and for a second you walk out the door, wearing your apron, cake batter on the corner of your mouth. For a second, I’m walking down the path to you, jogging, running, to fling myself into your arms and let you carry me home. Only for a second. Because you’re not here, this house isn’t ours anymore, and I’m never going to be in your arms again. I start the car again, and I don’t look back. (the house, it’s all yours draco, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.)
There’s the path we took all those times, you throwing your arms behind your head and turning to look me in the eye. The Indian place just down the block from us, and there you are, in your finest suit, green bowtie, flawless smile. The wind blows, and your curls shuffle as they always did, exposing the small beauty spot on your forehead. The car in front slows down, I brake, and the pavement’s empty again. (measured breaths, draco, you can do this draco, come on, focus, draco. drive.)
The playground, and I see you swinging Teddy in your arms; the pub tucked away on the street over, and you’re there drunk and laughing with your Gryffindors, winking at me thinking you’re slick except you’re really not, and I’ll just reach out and kiss you silly and- the parking lot where you introduced me to parallel parking, and the orange cones are up, a blue Mustang practicing, and you pop your head out from behind it, shifting the orange cones, showing me a thumbs up; and we’re on the street past that, examining a bit of graffiti and your tongue is sticking out as you add a little DM+HP to it; a motorbike is pulling up beside me, and you’re on it, pulling off your helmet, putting it on me, telling me to hold on as you pull into the air, and the ice cream parlour, the entrance to Diagon, the telephone to the Ministry you’d kiss me good day before work everyday; the restaurant where I was going to propose to you, and and and-
Cars honk behind me, and I choke on a sound (when did i start struggling for breaths?) The light’s green. It’s starting to rain. I squeeze my eyes shut. What do I even have, without you in my arms? It was so easy for you to leave, but did you ever think of me? Did you realize I love you? Did you? Oh, it’s not you, it’s me, so easy for you to think- it was us, Harry, we were supposed to be a unit, and you went and you made that decision for the both of us, and how is that fair? How is any of this fair?
More honks and I am driving again, and it’s raining harder, and it would be so easy to just swerve off this bridge, but I won’t, of course, I won’t I promised Pansy, but I can’t see the road anymore through my tears, can’t hear anything anymore over my heaving sobs, except in the rearview, a flash of green and red, the pile of Christmas presents we’d picked out; I reach out to the gear shift and its warm, from your hands, pushing it together; breathe in and your laughter echoing in the air, Teddy’s squeals in the backseat, Beatles playing, the sun on my face, leather boots on the dash, soft whispers in my ear, Draco Draco Draco, and you’re reclining in the passenger seat. You…. You’re here. Your eyes crinkle, your teeth smile, your scruff’s messy, your shirt half-open… Draco, Draco. Your fingers trailing down my cheek, a moment still in time, short, criss-crossing, everlasting, a breezy kiss against my lips, your scent stronger than I’ve smelt it since last April- and I would- I would kill for- I just want to hide myself away in here, want to hide this away in me, want to hide you- keep you from- from-
Focus, Draco. Drive.
Tires on asphalt and drumming rain come crashing in; a screeching honk from in front of me. The steering wheel spins in my hands, and everything is spinning out of control, everything is shattering, shards of memories, of you all around me, and I can’t feel, can’t think. My foot slams down, and for a second I think I hit the accelerator, the seat belt cuts into my throat, and I remember I’m on a bridge, Pansy, I’m so sorry— My world jerks to a stop.
Everything’s still. Outside, the rain continues to fall. Inside, all I hear is my heart thumping. The dash gleams a steady blue; the only light in the middle of this storm. Am I even breathing? I can’t tell. Maybe I am dead. Maybe I should be dead. The last shards of your presence are gone now, and I’m all alone again. In your car. Slowly, I pry my fingers off the wheel, one by one. I put my car in park and take my foot off the brake. I raise my hand and it’s steady. I’m steady. I’m alive.
There’s a knock on the window, and I roll down the window.
“What the hell you doing, mate?” the man with an umbrella and red face snaps. I just sit there, quiet, wide-eyed as the rain water soaks through my side of the car. “You out of your bloody fucking—” his eyes catch on something on my face, and he stops. My fingers reach out to touch my cheek, and it comes away wet. “Mate?” he asks, blue eyes suddenly a little softer, reminding me of the Weasel.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not knowing what else to do. Then again, “I’m sorry. I hope no one’s- hurt.” Oh Merlin, what if someone is?
The man shakes his head. “We’re all fine.” A small pause. “You fine?” he asks awkwardly. I shake my head. Which way I’m not sure. He nods back. Then he says, “Our cars are all unscratched and everything too.”
“Okay.”
“We can forgo calling the police,” he offers. “Keep it off both our records and all.”
“Thank you.”
He starts to take his leave and then stops. “Hey,” he says. “Drive safe, yeah?”
“Okay,” I say. “You too.” He nods and walks back to his car.
I wait until his car pulls away before rolling up my window. I wipe my face and drink some water. Check the mirrors, take some deep breaths. Spell the inside dry. Then I start the car again. I flick on the headlights, which I should’ve done ages ago. And I pull out slowly, steadily. Maybe I should’ve brought Pansy along with me. Maybe, I shouldn’t have taken the long way around. No matter, it’s not far now. I keep my eyes on the road right in front, but you don’t appear anyways.
At my destination, five minutes later, I park where Granger parked the first and only time I’ve been here before. I grab the bouquet from the back seat, red roses, green leaves, white lilies, double check the rectangle outline in my breast pocket, and step out into the grass. I float through the rows, and despite it being over a year since I was here, my feet know exactly where to go. What path to take to you. There it is- the archway and little monument the Ministry insisted on building you:
The Esteemed
Harry James Potter
1980-2003
Love is the strongest magic of them all
I kneel, put down my bouquet, and kiss the top of your gravestone. Then, I sit back and from my breast pocket, I take out a folded letter, the last words you left me, (i’m sorry draco, my love, i just can’t do this anymore) and from within it, my driver license, brand new, minted just today. In the middle beside a picture of my grim face, it says Draco Malfoy. This piece of stupid bendy muggle plastic- in itself it means nothing to me. It was always your dream of me passing my driving test, your pride in my skills at something so muggle, your excitement to see me drive up our driveway. Your hands teaching me, in your car. Your lips against my cheek when I messed up. Now… It tucks easily into the dirt along your gravestone, sliding in until only one pink rounded corner is visible.
This isn’t my achievement. For me, it's an apology. Atonement—even though you said you didn’t want that from me. (please don’t blame yourself, draco—it’s nothing you did. you’ll see why it’s better in the long run.) The only way I have now, to say I love you. Perhaps on some level, a last-ditch attempt to make you return to me—Silly. I know. You always said you feel like you can add nothing to this world after Voldemort, but don’t you see? Me—I’m better because of you. My success is all at your feet. This license, it’s your achievement.
Aren’t you proud, Harry?
(weren’t you proud of me?)