Edited by: Frogster
In Solitary
It was the witching hour.
The remote hill he was seated on was eerily quiet.
He didn't mind the silence, though.
He was used to quiet. He liked quiet.
After being surrounded by people who would be at his beck and call whenever the hell he wanted, this silence beckoned him.
He sat there on the little rocky part of the hill lost in his own train of thoughts...
It had been years since the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. It had been several years since the war had stopped. But that had not stopped the volcano of problems he had had to endure after that.
Perhaps endure was a wrong term.
After everything he and his family had done, it was hardly undeniable...unexpected.
He still remembered that fateful day. Almost too vividly.
How couldn't he?
He remembered it all.
Like it was yesterday.
How they had sat in a corner, huddled up and scared after the Dark Lord's death.
How his mother had been unwilling to let go of his arm for even a second.
How she had not even spared a glance at the body of her own sister she had once loved, but looked anxiously at people, terrified at the thought that they might be captured as the Death Eater family, or worse, killed.
Kill.
That's what they had done.
That's what he had done.
And this was his guerdon for it. This life debt.
Lucius' one decision of choosing power had nearly destroyed them...jeopardized their very existence.
It made him wonder sometimes, had he been in Lucius' stead, would he have done the same thing?
For power? For blood?
Had it all been worth it?
But there was no point contemplating about that now. He had made the same mistakes like his forefathers and suffered the consequences. Severely.
He knew Lucius Malfoy had always been a cunning old bastard with a cold heart, but he was his father in the end.
He could never forgive him, but neither could he leave him. He had always believed that his father would right the thing. Whatever the price.
Hell, that's what kids are taught when they were little, right? To trust their parents while they looked after you?
And Lucius, no doubt, had always stood by him.
Although his proclivity quivered when it came to the Dark Lord, but you simply cannot say 'No' to him and expect him to pat your back and nod in understanding. It was either his word or death.
And Lucius, of course, had preferred to live.
When the thunder of applause had erupted and everyone realized Voldemort was dead, the remaining Death Eaters had started fleeing.
He remembered someone calling his father's name...urging them to run away. Lucius was more than willing. He had grabbed them both to apparate them, but his mother had denied. It had been her word that had stopped Lucius. He had argued with her that they would be killed if they stayed, but she had been adamant.
After several hours they had been arrested by the Aurors and they went. Together.
People had scoffed at them, abused them; taunted that his family had finally got what they deserved. He never realized they were hated so strongly. So vehemently... He thought some wizards at one point were more happy about them being convicted than the death of the Dark Lord himself.
But they had faced it all, as a family.
It had taken months of trials, countless Azkaban visits, several mass protestations (obviously, against them), but he and his family had been declared clear of all charge. Lucius had been subjected to house arrest, which secretly, both he and his mother preferred.
Of course, the wizarding world had been in an uproar for this. They thought we had got off easily. For they everyone knew what a disgusting family his was and what they had done. But it was his word that had saved them.
He didn't know how Harry Potter had done that. He didn't know why he had done that. He wasn't expecting it. Fuck, he was expecting Harry Potter to give testimony against them. But Harry Potter had stunned their world yet again.
He would never know his reasons.
It was something he could never understand.
It wasn't that he was unhappy about the verdict.
It was just...unbelievable.
Someone might say that he was an ungrateful bastard to not be content about escaping a cruel punishment. But he disagreed. His each day felt like punishment. Every second felt like he was being gauged, being mocked. How could he be happy about such a life? There was hardly anything for him to be glad about.
Although it was never his initial choice, he had studied like crazy to pass his Auror entrance exam, knowing that this was his only chance to prove himself. And he was sure he had surpassed everyone who had appeared along with him, only to find that he was rejected cause of his past.
Dejected, he had then made up his mind to begin his new life in a far off place where he wasn't known, where his father's reputation was not heard of.
But surprisingly, only after a couple of days, he had received a sealed Ministry letter asking him to join as a junior Auror to begin his training; and he had without a second thought grabbed that anchor.
He tried showing how grateful he was for the opportunity by working relentlessly, mercilessly. He didn't want anyone questioning about him. Wondering whether he was truly his father's son. He strived hard. He knew he had. Perhaps, it wasn't enough. It never was.
Just after a couple of years in service, he felt that his each and every action was being judged. His each miscalculation, every error had made him stand out yet again.
How was he supposed to realize that the little child the death eater was threatening to kill in order to escape getting caught was already dead?
Or, why he had hesitated to kill a man who had begged him to believe that he had changed, that his family was being blackmailed—for he knew exactly how that felt—only to find his partner dead at the crime scene and the wizard gone when he had only turned his back for just a microsecond...
People didn't care to know the circumstances as long as he had handled it in a way where death was the only privilege to his assailant. They expected him to be a ruthless manipulative arsehole. And he lived up to their expectations. He gave them exactly what they wanted. Deserving or not.
Atleast that's what he thought.
Sighing to himself, Draco ran his hand through his hair and donned the jacket closer to his chest.
He was feeling exhausted tonight as he had had an extremely tiring day. The case he was working on was just seconds away from cracking. He could feel it. His guts were telling him that.
But for some reason he didn't feel like working this evening. He was tired. He was exhausted. It felt like every day he was carrying more weight on his shoulders than he ought to. But deep inside, he knew it was just frustration for his life. His worthlessness.
Tonight he just wanted to be alone for a while. From prying eyes. From not so subtle whispers. And also from concerning worry in his mother's eyes.
He just wanted to be left alone. Be invisible. Or, be non-existant, just so that he can decide what he ought to do with his life.
He missed his friends. He never thought he'd say this, but, he missed his school life. Their morning breakfast, his sneaking out with Blaise and Theo, their common room, Quidditch...everything.
His lips slightly curled upwards as he recalled some of Blaise's past antics with the girls. He still wondered why he was still friends with some of the people. Theo, yes, cause they had similar problems. Though not of the same magnitude. But he wondered his friendship with Blaise.
But if anything, Blaise had not judged him. They had met one day when he was trying to find work and had shared a drink.
And that was that.
No questions asked.
Chuckling at the idea that sending an owl at this hour to his old mate, would no doubt return with a howler for him, Draco stretched his tired arms and leaned forwards to rise, when he heard a distant pop, alerting him of some unknown presence.
He instantly became alert and quietly moved his wand hand inside the jacket.
Auror or Ex-Death Eater, Draco knew that he had made enough enemies who would gladly finish him off.
He stooped a little to not give away his location even though he was aware that the sharp edges of the rocks would help his cover.
Straining to hear even the slightest sound of any indication, he quietly sat gripping his wand as he tried to see through the mist. He couldn't.
He narrowed his eyes to see sharply and after a few seconds, he glimpsed a slouched hooded figure walking in the distance. He wondered who this stranger was, quickly assessing if it was a trap.
However, the rain and the splashing sound of waves on the lower rocks, along with the fog made it difficult for him to ascertain what this new entrant was up to.
With his other hand, he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, his heartbeat intensifying as he expected retaliation any second.
Evidently, Draco assumed, the stranger wasn't aware of Draco's presence as he kept walking towards the edge of the hill.
Draco realized what this wanderer was going to do before he could ascertain that there was no immediate threat to him.
He promptly got up and after securely holding his wand, started following him stealthily.
He caught sight of the figure halted at the edge, apparently peering over the splashes of waves hitting the rocks below.
The sound it created was thunderous enough to make anyone close his ears. However, the wanderer didn't mind that.
Draco observed him standing there for what seemed like an eternity and then, without a second thought, the figure jumped in the open air.
Draco swore and started running forwards. He hastily cast Impedimenta and reached the split of the hill to watch the figure sprawled like an eagle as it slowly fell on the lower rocks.
If the sea won't kill him then the sharp rocks would, Draco thought as he hurriedly stunned him and cast Mobilicorpus to move his unconscious body up the hill.
Once he had hauled him safely on the ridge, he angrily snatched the stranger's wand lying nearby and pointed it at his back to innervate him.