Remorse
Not my usual poison... written for The Muddyferretsociety, with love.
His own ragged breath punctuated his hasty footfalls. The Slytherin tie acted as a tight noose around his neck. His hand moved with shaky determination to loosen the knot and its hold.
As his shoes clacked against the unforgiving cobblestoned hallway, Draco gasped, sucking in the cold, damp air that seemed to permeate the castle. He'd done it, just exactly as the Dark Lord had bidden. Now, his family, his father and mother, would no longer be reviled by the most powerful wizard known to their world.
All Draco had done, was shout an Expelliarmus and the Killing Curse. Success had happened as neatly as that. He'd beheld the scene in extreme slow motion, watching the now late, great Albus Dumbledore tumble over the side of the castle, dead before becoming airborne.
The air seemed to leave Draco's lungs all at once as the memory assaulted his senses. The emotional blow was nearly physical as he had to reach a hand out to steady himself against a nearby wall.
Draco had imagined this moment of triumph thousands of times, but never did it occur to him that his family's re-admittance to the upper echelons of Lord Voldemort's circle came at such a heavy price. It had been so much better as a theory. His soul was cracked.
In the dark of night, the slender Slytherin was sure he had a few moments before his deed was discovered. Draco knew he needed to pull himself together before meeting his aunt in the forest. So, with a low keening sound, he slid down, his back against the roughly hewn wall. Draco shoved his fist against his mouth, attempting to stymy the cries that came with his uncontrollable weeping.
This was how Ravenclaw prefect, Cho Chang, discovered the Slytherin Prince. She'd been on patrol, assigned to the lengthy, deserted corridors that led to the Astronomy tower. Usually, she adored the solitude, as it gave her a place to drop the exhausting effort of smiling her way through her days. Ced's death still weighed heavily on her heart, but so much time had passed since that dreadful day that even her friends no longer felt she needed to mourn his passing and had long lost patience with her bouts of melancholy.
Brushing a graceful hand against the wetness at her eyes, Cho's ears picked up a curious, sorrow-filled sound. With shadowed stealth, she peered up the corridor to discover the embattled boy, bathed in moonlight, his shoulders wracked as he choked on his silent sobs.
Cho's compassionate nature took over before her more sensible head could stop her feet from moving toward him, her hand outstretched.
Without a word, she pulled him to her in a tight hug, knowing instinctively that this sort of wordless expression of support was all she ever really needed on her worst days. It didn't surprise her that he fought against her comforting embrace. Though slight in figure, her quidditch practiced arms were exceptionally strong, and when he realized she wasn't asking him to do anything in return, she felt his fingers grip the thick material of her cloak at her back.
She felt his shuddering surrender against her, his tears wet against her neck as his watery gasps filled her ear. She spoke not a word, nor a croon to assure him that all would be alright.
Cho refused to make such baseless promises, for she'd heard far too many such things that she'd begun to resent such words being spoken at all. She simply held him, this boy who seemed, at this moment, to falter under the weight of whatever was expected of him. And she was rewarded with a sort of emotion unheard of from a Slytherin, much less a Malfoy.
When his weeping subsided, Cho felt him begin to pull away. She lifted a hand to quietly brush away the fringe that lay against his brow. She asked no questions, for she discovered she wanted no answers. She did not smile, for she intrinsically knew he deserved no reassurances. She simply stayed kneeling in front of him, her arms sliding from him and back onto her lap.
His mercurial eyes, soft and watery in the moonlight, seemed to plead with her, but she pursed her lips, refusing to speak.
"Thank you," he managed, his voice just a touch above a whisper, roughened with emotion.
She blinked.
With precise movements, he removed something from his tie and took hold of her hand, pressing the side of his tie pin of the Malfoy crest into her palm.
"If He wins this war, this might save you," Draco explained hastily not really sure if what he was saying held any truth. "Don't lose it and try to find me. Promise."
Cho continued to stare.
"Cho!" Draco nearly shouted, reaching out to shake her. "One good thing. One good thing has to come out of this wretched mess. Promise!"
She refused to make such a vow.
With trembling hands, Draco gripped her.
"Please!"
She turned her gaze askance, presenting him with her profile, refusing to answer.
The clock struck midnight and Draco knew he could no longer stay.
With great effort, he pulled himself to standing and began to run. As he was about to round the corner, he cast a last look over his shoulder, discovering the raven-haired girl's watchful, dark gaze trained on him.
She still knelt in the bright beam of moonlight, her fist tight against the tiny bauble he'd left in her palm. Draco gulped and sped his way out of the castle, his thoughts clutching onto the memory of the pretty girl in the corridor, knowing that her quiet kindness would most likely be the last show of compassion he would have in a very very long time.
To everyone else, I'm working my way back to my dramione muse...
