Chapter One – The Raid
Draco stood on the outside of the circle of death eaters gathered at Stonehenge in the middle of October. The night was cold and the moon was out. Voldemort paced around in the center of them, telling them of their mission tonight. They were planning a raid on the ministry.
Nice one, Draco thought. It was a big deal, and he was scared. He'd been in raids before, but nothing as big as this. The ministry. He knew he'd be fine and that there was no need to worry. He rubbed his hands together nervously and blew through them in an attempt to warm himself. Blaise, his best friend, patted him on the back.
"So you all know you're all clear on your positions by now?" Voldemort said while circling their ranks, finishing off his speech. "This is a large step towards victory, my faithful servants. Fudge will not be standing after tonight." He looked around at them all and smiled. "You are all as ready as we can be. Unless there are any major blunders, this could be the milestone towards winning the war." He paused for a second. Then he clapped his hands together. "Well, shall we go?" He took his position in the middle of the field, and the Death Eaters all stood up tall around him, waiting for him. He nodded, and there was a swish of their cloaks, a series of loud 'pops', and they were gone, Draco with them.
He landed inside of a corridor, the rest of the ranks landing around him. He knew that they were close to the ministry. All of the Death Eaters were talking to themselves, shifting as they waited for their master to arrive. He finally appeared with a crack, and made a gesture of dusting his hands off.
"Thank Merlin the anti-apparition wards came down well. It was extremely difficult even for me to lift them. I was waiting to make sure you all came through well." That ass, thought Draco, he would have had us all splinched without even telling us.
Voldemort moved to the head of the group and started walking down the hall, and the Death Eaters followed him. Draco found Blaise, standing near the back. "You nervous?" Draco asked quietly.
"No shit. I'm practically shaking. This'll be one of my first raids ever," said Blaise in a tight voice. "I hope I don't mess it up. My father said he's counting on me."
"Ya, same here," said Draco. "My dad is really trusting me to do well. He put a lot of pressure on me."
"Shh… you're making it worse. Just be quiet for a while." Blaise walked looking ahead of him, his back straight and his head tall. Draco saw he really was shaking.
Voldemort led them to the fountain in the center of the Ministry, which had been rebuilt after Potter had demolished it. The Dark Lord raised his wand, a gesture for them all to be quiet.
"You all know what to do now. I trust you all to do your absolute best. Do not fumble, though, I warn. Good luck to all of you." Draco knew what he had to do. The crowd dispersed in their own separate directions, and Draco followed Blaise who was with the other people he'd been assigned to work with. They all left going down a corridor to the left of the receptions desk. They walked for a while, only talking when necessary, until they got to their destination.
They entered the office of a certain Gifford Morshend. Draco and the rest began to turn over desks, file cabinets, and papers, searching for what Voldemort had instructed them. Lord Voldemort had instructed them the job that was by far easiest: destroying evidence. Draco was dumping out Morshend's pen drawer onto the floor when he heard a loud, masculine scream from outside. It was followed by some shouting and another man cursing especially loudly. They all looked up, immediately alert. Knott moved outside and looked for where it was coming from, and it was obvious to them all that the Aurors had shown up.
"Fuck," whispered Knott. "Let's get out of here." Draco and the rest of them got up and out quickly, trying to be as silent as possible. They could hear shouting, curses and jinxes being yelled everywhere around them. They all moved in group down the maze of offices and desks, trying to find the well in the center of the building again.
They snuck as quietly as they could, hoping they could make a surprise attacks. The yelling got louder as they got closer. When they finally navigated their way out, the sight they saw shocked them. There were bodies on the floor and blood running from a few of them. Doshuk, one of the other men with them, gasped loudly. There were Aurors running around shouting curses at the Death Eaters, and dueling couples stood all around the lobby.
Draco saw Lucius battling with what looked to be a thirty year old fit young man, who was quickly exhausting Lucius. Draco, making sure he kept his hood up, stupidly ran out to the middle of the field to give his father aid. He got to his father's side and saw him sweating and panting, but deflecting the curses being thrown at him quickly. He saw Draco.
"What the hell are you doing?" he said, recognizing Draco through the mask, while shooting a shot of blue light from the end of his wand at his opponent. "Get back to the side or get hidden, you idiot!" He deflected a shot of light coming directly towards Draco. "Get out of here!" He ducked another spell, and Draco shot a spell straight at the Aurors wand arm. It missed.
"Draco, go find your own fight if you're going to be out here," Lucius snarled. Draco left him and aimed a Confundus Charm at an open Auror, and made it! The Auror was knocked off his feet and Draco laughed and grinned. He aimed at another Auror, who was already battling a Death Eater. But the Auror whipped around just in time, and shot a stream of orange light right at Draco. It hit him in the face. Draco screamed and fell to the ground, holding his eyes, which got the worst of the blast, and sobbed at the burning pain.
Lucius saw Draco fall, and left his fight, throwing up a temporary shield around him, and ran over to his son. Draco was kicking and clutching his face, while rolling on the ground. Lucius grabbed him and ran out of the battle into the empty corridor they had arrived in. No one was there, and he was thankful. He put his son down on the ground, and told him to move his hands so he could see the damage. Draco just kept sobbing.
"Draco, remove your bloody hands, or I'll make you! I need to see what he did." His voice was rushed, because he knew at any moment they could be discovered and killed, in this vulnerable position.
Draco was still clutching his face, because the pain was unbearable. His face probably looked horrible, he thought. He felt Lucius's hands pry at his, and holding them down so he couldn't recover himself, then remove his mask. Lucius gasped. Draco's eyes were bloody and swollen, and he could tell that at least one of the eyeballs had shattered. Draco sobbed tearlessly as his father observed his face.
"Oh, God, Draco. We're getting you out of here," whispered Lucius in a panicked voice. "It might get worse. I can't tell. Shit!" His eye sockets had started to bleed. He ripped off a piece off his robe and told Draco to hold it to his eyes. "We're getting you the hell out of here! Hold on to my arm. He readied himself, concentrating on the Manor, and with a 'pop' he and Draco were gone.
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Draco woke up slowly, his head hurting and his eyes throbbing. He sat up in bed, his eyelids still closed from sleeping. As soon as he got to sitting position he got head rush, and he clutched his arms around his head, waiting for it to pass. He knew he was at the Manor. He vaguely remembered having apparated there and his father yelling for assistance and then rushing up the stairs. He opened his eyes.
Nothing. It was still black. I might still be sleeping, he thought hazily. He put his hands to his face, and felt his open eyelids, and eyes that were intact. He prodded his fingers around his face. His skin was scabbed. He widened his eye sockets. He touched his eyes, horrified, then slapped himself trying to wake his eyes up. He cried out, scared.
"Help me! Mother! I can't see!" He heard some commotion from downstairs, someone walking up the stairs, and into his room. He looked up and saw nothing. A soft feminine voice came from the person. "Oh, thank Merlin you're awake," said his mother. She walked up to him and sat on the bed. "You look terrible, honey."
Draco sat up a little bit straighter, straining to see her. "I can't see! Goddamnit! My head hurts, my eyes are stinging, my body's sore! Oh, Lord…" He sobbed. "Mother, I got hit in the eyes! I can't see! Oh God…"
She hugged him gently. Her voice was shaky. "You've seen a healer, Draco. He tried everything he could. Your father pressed him hard. Your father's a wreck, by the way. The healer was busy all night. You almost died a few times. He said you'll probably stay like this. The chances of you healing were slim, and he doubted if ever."
Draco groaned and sat back on his pillow. He felt like a rubber band was around his lungs. His chest was tightening. He put his right hand to his eyes again, and gently rubbed them, contemplating what it meant to be blind in his head. No more Quidditch, no more raids (not a bad thing), no more school, no more walking without an aid, no more being free. He started to cry.
His mother got up from the bed. "I can't stay. I think you need some time by yourself. I'm going to leave you. You don't know how sorry I am. Your father will come in later." She bent down and kissed his cheek, then turned around and left, and Draco heard her shut the door. He flipped over onto his stomach, and put his head in his arms. He thought for a long time. What would everyone say about him? Would he be labeled a cripple? How could he possibly cope without being able to see?
He heard the door open again. Draco stayed where he was. He heard his father address him grimly. Draco could hear that his voice was ragged. He came next to Draco's bed and pulled a chair up. He just sat there for a while, and Draco didn't move.
When Lucius spoke, he was soft, which wasn't like him. "The Dark Lord isn't happy. He was almost ready to kill me on the spot when I told him about you. I didn't really stick around. I guess you aren't really going to be required to go to meetings anymore. I know that will devastate you." His voice held empty humor. "I am not angry with you. I am too tired and sad. I am angrier with our Lord, for having thought you were ready for a raid like that." He sighed.
"We tried to do everything, Draco. The healer might've been a moron, but he really did do everything he could. It's not a physical wound. It's a curse… A very strong curse." Draco turned over and faced him.
"The main thing we need to address is what we are going to do now, and how you are going to adapt to a life of blindness." It sounded shocking when Lucius said it so outright.
Lucius went on for a while, Draco saying very little. He had decided that Draco would keep going to school as normal, with someone to escort him to class and read to him, which Draco groaned at. He would go about life as normal as he could, hoping that his sight might come back, which Lucius made clear there was very little hope of. He wouldn't be able to be on the Quidditch team anymore, which made Draco even more upset. He would not have to worry about what happened when he was home. The house elves would escort him around. They would have to escort him around in public.
Lucius left Draco afterwards, saying that he was truly sorry about what had happened. Draco leaned back, dreading the idea of returning to school in a week.
