TW: Language, Depression, Smoking
Demian didn't say much on the ride back to Hogwarts, after the boat docked Narcissa insisted on sending a team of men to retrieve what was left of her son to be taken back to Malfoy Manor. Demian even heard that Lucius accompanied them on the trip. He sighed audibly, sitting in his charms class where he just couldn't concentrate. He'd missed Mondays lecture anyways, and felt lost in the conversation with no means of joining in. After class he lingered at his desk, hoping to talk to Professor Valor and pick his brain about what he might know regarding the potent curse that befell Draco. Whispers amongst the other students had already started to circulate about him, and the weight of harboring the truth was bearing down on Demian, hard. Especially with all eyes on him, looking for answers. His mother had made up a story, saying that Draco was needed at home on urgent family business, but it wasn't enough to still the tongues of all the nosy students, especially those that saw him leave the party with "a mysterious hooded woman". Demian just anxiously fidgeted with his fingers while the rest of his classmates funneled out, Peter looking back at him with curious eyes.
"Demian, whatever is going on I want you to know you can talk to me." He said, stopping at his desk.
"Yeah, I might have to take you up on that soon." Demian responded, the need to keep this terrible secret diminishing by the second. "Just, not here." He said.
Peter nodded, he pat him on the shoulder once before he left, Demian started to pack up his things and heard the door shut unexpectedly, a satisfying click signifying it was locked.
"What's happened." Christian said suddenly.
Demian felt a knot in his stomach, gripping him. Tears welled up in his eyes and he started to speak, but the jumbled mess wouldn't come out right, "He, I- there's so much." He said, the tears falling freely down his cheeks. His memories were stained with the haunting image of Narcissa, gouging her eye out and Draco turning to stone within seconds while he watched helplessly from the sidelines.
"I'm not sure I can save him." Demian said finally, Christian was sitting on the edge of the long desk, he just shook his head.
"You need to tell me what's happened." He said, "Everything."
He knew he needed help, from anyone and everyone willing if he was going to find a cure for this, especially within the next few days. With summer coming up, he worried more about the time limit than the secrecy, and he started to explain what happened in as much detail as he could.
Christian sat there, studying Demian while he choked out his story, the tears never stopped flowing.
At the end of his tale, Christian simply sighed.
"Petrification you say..." His eyes glanced down to his own forearm, he suddenly stroked his tattoo protectively.
"You must meet me, tonight. In my quarters." Christian said, suddenly.
Demian just looked up at him with curiosity, wiping his wet cheeks with the back of his hand.
"Do you know something that could help?" He asked, a glimmer of hope settling the nasty pit in his gut.
"More than you'd be willing to believe..." Christian replied, motioning for him to leave. "Now go, I have another class." He quickly unlocked the door and Demian filed out, confusion and hope swirling inside of him. He went to the rest of his classes, eager to figure out what he knew.
***
That night, when Peter and Mordred came home he decided to tell them what he knew. He recanted his story once more to the two of them as they sat there in awe of what he'd experienced. He could tell at moments they were upset he chose to keep this all a secret.
"How could you never tell us this, dude?" Peter said, even his hands were slightly shaking as he fumbled for his familiar smoke pack. He went to the window in silence and Mordred cut through the tension,
"I mean, it's not that we don't understand why you didn't. It's just a lot to carry alone." He said, trying to take some of the sting out of Peters words.
"I was sworn to secrecy, they could have killed him." Demian said, raising his voice a bit.
"They haven't?" Peter said, inhaling.
"Fuck you, he's not dead yet." Demian said, crossing his arms. He couldn't hold back anymore and he followed subserviently to the window, holding his fingers out. Peter went to hand it to him, but he demanded his own.
"There's still a chance to save him, if we can figure something out before Voldemort finds out."
Peter scoffed, "He knows. There's no way he doesn't know. In fact, he likely knew this is how it would end and walked you both straight to your demise. What does he lose? Nothing. And now he gets to kill Harry himself." Peter said, harshly. He ashed out the window.
"Okay, then why hasn't he done anything?" Demian asked.
"He has, you just don't know what he's done." Peter said. "Maybe you should ask Harry?"
Demian sighed. "Yeah well, I'm supposed to have a lead already, Professor Valor said he knew something. Maybe he has a cure." Demian said.
"Didn't take him for a potions guy." Mordred said, "Fuck that smoke is so nasty. When are you guys going to quit that." He said, waving the air in front of him as if it was polluted.
"When I stop being stressed out." Peter said, Demian just nodded his head in agreement.
"You can say that again." He said.
"So, what happens if you can't save him?" Peter said suddenly, a wave of nausea overcame Demian as he pondered that possibility.
"I promised his mother I would." He said. "And I intend to keep that promise."
"I feel so bad for her." Mordred said.
"Yeah holy fuck, imagine giving your literal eye for your child and he's still kil-" Peter paused, "Cursed."
"Yeah well, he could have just showed up to the cave and killed us both if he wanted us dead." Demian said.
"Kinda hard to argue with that logic." Mordred said.
"All I know is I have 4 days to do it. We leave Saturday night to go home. It has to be done before then."
Peter sucked his teeth, "Yikes man, you better get going to the Professor then."
"You're right." Demian said, watching the sun set behind the horizon he tossed his cigarette out and turned to his two friends. "If you can find out anything, while keeping it as vague as possible, I would be really grateful."
"You're lucky we love you, because saving Draco wasn't that high up on my to do list before." Peter said, jokingly.
Demian smiled, just a little, through the sadness that blanketed him.
"Thanks guys, I'll see you later." He said, exiting the dorm quickly on his way to his potential answer.
***
As he rounded the staircase to Christians personal chambers once more his heart raced. His hands found the familiar stone wall and his fingers trailed against it on his way up. A feeling of safety in that hallway eminated around him, he knocked quietly and the door was opened. Christian stood there, pulling him in quickly and locking the door. Instinctively, Demian blushed.
"W-what's going on?" He said.
"Nothing, but. What I'm about to tell you can never leave this room." He said, a faint hint of worry in his eyes.
"Sit." He motioned and Demian did as he was told. Christians hand trembled as he poured a glass of whiskey for himself, he even offered one to Demian who politely declined. "You might need it." He warned him.
Demian took the glass holding it firmly in both hands. "Christian, what's all this about. I just need to know a cure."
"And I know one." Christian said, he sipped his drink but his usually strong demeanor was melting away.
Demians face lit up, "Y-you know a cure? But how?" He set the glass down beside him and sat forward eagerly, that glimmer of hope now cascading through him.
Christian just sighed, he held out his forearm and presented his lotus tattoo. Demian looked at him curiously, "W-what are you showing me?"
"It's...it's an illusion." He said, waving his wand in front of it once and the dark mark appeared before him. Demian quickly stood up in his chair, frightened.
"Y-youre a death eater?" Demian swallowed nervously, thinking of all the things he likely told Voldemort in their stead. "You betrayed us. You told him, didn't you. You fucking sent him after us!" Demian yelled, unable to contain his words of anger. "You wanted me to yourself is that it?"
Christian just smirked, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." He downed his drink in one go and stood up, his hands were still trembling as he poured himself another drink. "It would be too easy to assume I wanted to be with you. I told you not to fall in love with me, and for a good reason. But not because I'm a death eater. Or I couldn't commit. But because I have always belonged to another."
Demian swallowed nervously, his hands suddenly found his own drink again and he took a long sip. It burned going down, but his nerves were soothed. He still couldn't take his seat though.
"W-what are you talking about." He said, a newfound fear forming for someone he cared for deeply.
Christian sighed, "Fuck, where do I even begin. I'm not...from here, Demian."
He sipped his drink, watching Professor Valor. "And?"
"And..." Christian paused, "This is harder than I thought it was going to be." He downed his second drink, setting the glass down with an expectant clank. "I attended this school in 1942. Where I met Voldemort, before he was Voldemort."
Demian sat down in his chair, too stunned to stand. He took another large sip of his drink. Even though he coughed afterwards, he desperately needed it. "But you told me you were 21...." Demian questioned, "So how could that be possible."
"Because I've abused time magic. Intentionally. To be here in this moment. And in doing so have remained the same age since I began that journey, a few years after I graduated from Hogwarts in 1945." He swirled his glass a bit, "I came here looking for Voldemort."
"Why?" Demian asked.
"Because before he was Voldemort, he was very special to me." Christian said.
Demians eyes widened, "Special?"
Christian sighed again, "I haven't seen him since he disappeared, years ago, searching for immortality. But we were very close. Closer than I can express to you." He cleared his throat, "When he disappeared, I dedicated all my time and energy into time travel and all its related magics. When I was in school, time-turners only went one way, present to past, and only lasted for 5 minutes. But I found a way to reverse it, to use it to travel forwards instead of backwards, and for as long as I liked."
"You've made history..." Demian said taking another sip, this one much smaller than the last as his troubles started to melt away from the alcohol.
"If anyone knew, sure. Maybe I would have. But I spent countless hours searching time periods for any trace of To-" He paused, "Of Voldemort. Because we have unfinished business." He swallowed nervously, "The truth is, I loved him. And I thought I could convince him to leave his foolish need for immortality behind. But I couldn't. When I finally found a year with any traces of him, he seemed lost already. I heard speculation he might be defeated soon, by Harry Potter. So, I came here hoping to see him once more, and finish what we started all those years ago."
"But if you're a death eater, wouldn't he be able to call to you, and you him?" Demian asked, pointing to the mark.
"If I was a death eater, sure." Christian said, "But back then this was nothing more than a symbol. A tattoo we got together when we were young and mischievous. Apparently, it held more significance to him than I realized." He trailed off. "I use the lotus illusion to represent the girl I was with before I met him. A simpler time in my life. But even covering it up hasn't helped me forget."
Demian saw a weakness in him, a sadness that he didn't recognize.
"What's happened to Draco has happened to others, when Voldemort was first beginning his experiments. I've seen it. And while there's a way to reverse it, it won't be simple trying to convince others to help you. And you will need others."
Demian brushed his hair behind his ear nervously, "What do you mean?"
"Voldemort, though he appears very strong willed has an insatiable desire to be loved, because he feels he never has. When this curse was made, it was made to mimic classic petrification but with the added pretense that the person afflicted would never be able to find three people who cared about them enough to cleanse it. A fail safe, if you will. In that instant of fear and regret Draco had he invited a curse protecting that place inside him, and now his only way of ever coming back is by finding three people who care about him enough to risk their lives to save his. And because Tom- er..."
"You don't have to keep calling him Voldemort..." Demian said softly, he could tell it hurt him in a way he couldn't fathom.
"Yes...well...Because he never had any family, none of those connections are valid to him. It has to be three people unrelated to the victim, and each must sacrifice something that symbolizes the one they wish to save."
"S-sacrifice?" Demians mind flashed back to Narcissas screams, he clenched his cup in his hand nervously.
"Don't worry, it doesn't have to be blood. Unless you've nothing else to give..." He said.
"And of course, mandrake root as the base. And...well, this." He stood up suddenly, walking over to his desk and hastily scribbling it down. He handed the scrap of paper to Demian.
"Another Latin incantation..." He said. He folded it up neatly and stuck it in his pocket, his heart thumped rapidly as his mind trailed back to their last failed experiment.
"And if it doesnt work?" Demian said, quietly.
Christian sighed. "Then there's nothing else to do."
Demian swallowed nervously, he finished the last sip of his drink in silence.
"And what will you do, about Voldemort?"
Professor Valor scoffed at his question, "If you're asking me if I'm going to fight him, I'm not. I have no intention of bringing him down to help you or anyone else."
Demian just nodded. "I....I understand." He said, this made Christian look up to him.
"You do?"
"Maybe not on the same level as you, but I do know what it's like to love someone uncontrollably." Demian said.
Christian couldn't meet him gaze, but he smiled to himself, "I tried to warn you, about young love. It can destroy you. Consume you. Just as it has me." He finished his last drink. "Don't tell anyone what we've spoke of tonight, I'm much less concerned with my job than I am my life. If anyone assumes I'm aiding Voldemort in any way, I'll never be able to make it to my own time, or..." He paused, "Or him."
Demian stood up from his seat, "I won't tell anyone, and thank you, for helping me." He turned to leave, "Oh um...I hope things work out for you, Christian." He said, sadly.
"In another life, they called me Cael."
Demian smiled at his newfound trust in him, "Well, I hope you find what you're looking for, Cael." He said, leaving the professors dorm with a new goal, and one that he had to accomplish quicker than he could fathom.