AN: Trigger warning for character suicide.
This is set in a post-war AU where the Death Eaters are trying to continue Voldemort's work (just to give you a little context so y'all don't get confused).
Bad Memories
"No, please," Draco squeaked out, his voice breaking as the figure loomed over him once more, wand outstretched.
Draco was vaguely away of the sound of shouting coming from outside the room as the figure muttered the curse once more, plunging Draco into the past for what felt like the millionth time that day.
He was already prepared for what he'd see when he opened his eyes—after the third time he realised it would be the same memory every time—but he still hoped with all his being that this time it would be different. That he wouldn't be in the Manor. That he'd be walking Diagon Alley with his mother. That he'd be playing Quidditch. That he'd be on the Hogwarts Express. That he'd be at Hogwarts getting punched by Granger, even that would be better than the memory he was reliving.
When he opened his eyes, it was exactly the same.
Draco stood in front of the bookcase in the Manor library. He was fingering a copy of Hogwarts: A History, remembering how he'd never bothered to read it fully before the Battle of Hogwarts and wishing he had. Learning about the castle had never seemed like a priority to Draco until he watched it crumbling around him.
Pulling the book off the shelf, he turned back on himself to head for the loveseat next to the window, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Minty, his house elf, stood in the doorway.
"Master Draco, sir. Minty needs your help, sir. Minty tried to wake Mistress Narcissa, but Minty failed," Minty said, his voice even more shrill and high-pitched than usual.
Draco felt his stomach drop; his mother was notoriously hard to wake, especially when she'd taken her sleeping pills, but there was something about the look on Minty's face that made the situation seem more serious than that.
"Where?" he snapped.
"Mistress Narcissa's bedroom, sir."
Draco dropped the book he was holding and sped out of the door. He could feel the panic starting to build in his chest, his heart racing and his breaking shallow. He ended up taking the stairs two at a time as he ran to his mother's room.
"Mother?" he called, stopping just short of the slightly ajar door.
When she didn't respond, he pushed the door open and started to call out again, but his voice caught in his throat.
Draco's breathing sped up as he took note of his mother's still body on her bed, an empty bottle of sleeping pills next to where her hand lay. He took a couple of shaky steps into the room, scouring the area in hope of finding something amiss that would shed some light on the scene in front of him. His eyes landed on a folded sheet of parchment on the bedside table. Draco felt his stomach twist as he crossed the room to read it.
My darling Draco,
I'm so very sorry to leave you like this, but I couldn't come to terms with the things your father and I have done over the last few years. I thought by saving Harry Potter from the Dark Lord I could forgive myself, but I've found myself growing less and less able to do that as the months have passed.
I'm sorry I couldn't be strong for you.
I love you.
Draco felt his knees buckle and he sank to the floor, the letter clutched tightly in his hand. He wasn't sure when he had started crying, but violent sobs started to wrack his body as he sat there at a loss.
It felt like hours to Draco, but it was only moments before he was brought out of his reverie by a voice from the doorway.
"Master Draco, is… is Mistress Narcissa well?"
Draco drew in a breath, preparing himself to shout at the house elf for letting this happen, but when he opened his mouth he found he didn't have the energy.
"No, she's not. You… you need to go to St Mungo's immediately."
"M… Master…"
"Now, Minty!"
Draco heard the crack of the house elf disapperating and let himself break down again.
Draco was dragged out of his memory seconds later, his face wet with fresh tears.
"Where is your father?" the figure looming above him shouted, and Draco finally recognised it as the voice of Rodolphus Lestrange.
Fuck, Draco thought, he doesn't look too good these days.
"I don't know," Draco replied, his voice much calmer than he was expecting.
"Don't lie to me boy! Where the fuck is he?"
"I don't know!" he shouted.
Rodolphus pointed his wand at Draco and soon he was being dragged back into his memory again.
Draco looked up at the bookcase he was standing in front of and let out a sigh. He knew what was about to happen, and he didn't know how to stop it.
He pulled Hogwarts: A History off the shelf and turned to face the loveseat in the corner, completely unsurprised by the appearance of Minty in the doorway.
"Master Draco, sir. Minty needs your help, sir. Minty tried to wake Mistress Narcissa, but Minty failed," the house elf said.
Draco felt his stomach drop and his feet start to move. He tried to resist for a minute, but it seemed that while he was in the memory, he had no control over his body. Before long, he was racing up the stairs two at a time and coming to a stop outside his mother's door.
"Mother?" his voice called, although he hadn't intended to do so.
Draco took a deep breath as he pushed open the door, knowing exactly what to expect—Narcissa spread out on the bed an empty bottle of pills next to her. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd been planning this all along. There were plenty of magical cures for insomnia, and he'd had no idea why she'd chosen to go for the Muggle one. Well, he'd had no idea until now.
He took a few tentative steps forwards before his eyes fell on the note. He didn't need to read it to know what it said, he'd memorised it almost as soon as he found it.
My darling Draco,
I'm so very sorry to leave you like this, but I couldn't come to terms with the things your father and I have done over the last few years. I thought by saving Harry Potter from the Dark Lord I could forgive myself, but I've found myself growing less and less able to do that as the months have passed.
I'm sorry I couldn't be strong for you.
I love you.
He felt himself fall to the floor once more, a fresh wave of grief crashing over him making him wonder if this would ever get any easier. He expected not. There was no one on earth he'd ever loved more than his mother, and he doubted he'd ever find anyone in the future.
"Master Draco, is… is Mistress Narcissa well?" the house elf's words drew him out of his thoughts.
"No, she's not. You… you need to go to St Mungo's immediately," he said, not even trying to get angry this time as he knew it wouldn't happen.
"M… Master…"
"Now, Minty!"
Draco heard the crack of the house elf disapperating and despite trying to fight it, he felt himself break down again.
As Draco came to, he could pick out the sound of shouting from outside the room again. It sounded like fighting, but he didn't want to focus on anything other than the man in front of him.
"Well, ready to tell me where he is yet, you little brat?" Rodolphus asked, his face covered in a sneer that made his already unpleasant features look even worse.
"If I knew where he was," Draco said, trying to regain his usual composure, "don't you think I would have told you by now?"
Rodolphus brought his head down to Draco's level, their faces so close that Draco could smell the older man's breath. It wasn't a pleasant scent, and Draco had to bite his tongue to stop himself from gagging.
"I think you're so loyal to him that you'd protect him until you were seconds from certain death. At least, I hope you would; we've got no use for cowards in our ranks. And it's so much fun to watch you squirm."
Draco spat in Rodolphus' face, fury guiding him as he thought about Rodolphus' statement and how sick it was that he was getting pleasure out of Draco's pain.
"You fucking bastard!" Rodolphus stood back from Draco and pointed his wand at him. "Crucio!"
Searing pain coursed through Draco's body. It was so bad, that he found himself wishing he was back in the memory of finding his mother dead—as emotionally painful as it was, Draco reckoned he could handle that better than the physical pain that was beating him. Well, he did wish it until he was thrown back into it.
Word count: 1,503.
AN: I hope y'all enjoyed this (as much as you can). It's actually given me an idea of a possible MC for the future and I guess is sort of turned into a scene from that (the shouting outside is from a fight as Draco suspects. It's actually the Order of the Phoenix who are still trying to fight against the remaining Death Eaters after the Battle of Hogwarts). Don't everyone get your hopes up, though, because I am notoriously bad at following through with plans like this xD
This is for:
Hogwarts – Defence Against the Dark Arts Assignment 11;
Task 2: Write about someone reliving their most painful memory over and over (please include warnings where appropriate).