Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and I am making no profit, monetary or otherwise, through the writing of this.
A/N: Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry assignment number 2, Notable Witches and Wizards: Tilly Toke, Task: "Write about a witch or wizard saving a Muggle from harm's way."
Warning: Mentions of torture, though not described in any way, and oc characters deaths.
"Run!" Draco shouted at the group of Muggle children who were standing a stone's throw away from the crumbling building that had been hit by a rogue spell cast by one of the Death Eaters.
There was chaos all around them, and Draco was doing his best to cast harmless spells. He may have been conscripted into the Dark Lord's service, but he had no desire to engage in the act of killing the poor and defenseless, Muggles or not.
Heart pounding, hands shaking, Draco ignored the melee going on around him and focused solely on a lone child, no more than three or four years old at most, who sat, crying in the midst of the pandemonium going on around him. His mother's dead body lie beside him. She'd been killed by a Death Eater, and the child's father was being tortured by one of the Carrows. Draco couldn't tell which one of them it was, not that it mattered. They were both sick and took especial pleasure in torturing children and the elderly.
Taking care to avoid the bombardment of spells going on around him, Draco made his way to the weeping child. Glancing around to make sure that no one was watching him, he scooped the child up off the ground and pressed the child's face against his robes, keeping the boy from seeing his mother's dead body and the ongoing torture of his father. The man would be dead soon, or left fit for the madhouse.
"Careful there, Draco. You don't wish to be caught coddling a Muggle child, do you?" The silky voice coming from behind him startled Draco, but he did not turn around. He knew who it was, knew that, if anyone would understand his need to save this little boy, it would be Severus Snape, spy for the Light, trusted servant of both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore.
"I can't...won't leave him here for the Carrows to play with or Greyback to sink his teeth into," Draco said, spitting out the name of the werewolf who gave him the creeps and made his stomach feel sickly and oily every time he heard the wolf speak.
"Take this," Severus said, pressing something into Draco's hand, even as he fired off a spell in the general direction of the tumult going on around them. Draco knew that his spell would fall short of hitting anyone, other than a fellow Death Eater. "I'll meet you and the boy there as soon as I can."
Draco activated the portkey and felt the familiar, uncomfortable pull of it not a second too soon as the Carrow tired of his torture and simply killed the boy's father. When he landed, Draco found himself deep in a wooded area, the little boy's wails of discomfort and fear nearly deafened him as he made his way to the cabin that was nestled within the woods.
There was a fire roaring in the fireplace, and Dumbledore sat in an armchair, looking into the fire. He appeared to be lost in thought, and though Draco wondered what he was doing there, he had more pressing matters at hand.
Draco did his best to hush the crying child, realizing a beat later that the child's fearful cries were aimed at him and that he was still wearing his Death Eater's robes and mask. He quickly pulled them off and sat the boy down on the floor, kneeling down so that he wasn't towering over the boy.
"You're safe now," Draco said, hoping that the boy would stop sobbing.
He was completely unprepared when the boy launched himself at him and wrapped his chubby arms around Draco, hiding his face against Draco's chest. The little boy said something that Draco couldn't quite make out, and, at a loss for what to do, Draco patted his back.
"I believe he wishes for you to pick him up," Dumbledore said, a hint of humor in the tone of his voice.
Frowning, Draco picked up the now whimpering child and made his way to other room, sitting on the sofa. The little boy tucked his head under Draco's chin and grabbed fistfuls of Draco's shirt. Draco continued to pat the boy's back until the whimpers died down and were followed by soft snores. The little boy was a heavy, warm weight in Draco's arms, and before he knew it, he, too was falling asleep, waking only when he felt something tug at the bundle in his arms.
He pulled back reflexively, a sudden fear of having been discovered by the Carrows or Greyback having over taken him. He couldn't let the boy fall into their hands, Muggle or not. It wasn't right. The Dark Lord wasn't right. None of those who followed him were right.
"Easy, Draco," Severus said. "It's just me. We should put him, and you, to bed. You've both had a long, trying day."
"Dumbledore..."
"Professor Dumbledore has returned to the castle. He's working on procuring a suitable family for the boy. Until then, you and he are to stay here. It was a good thing that you did," Severus said, not a trace of ill-humor in his voice for once.
"What of the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, touching the mark on his forearm.
"He believes you to be dead," Severus said. "As do your mother and father."
"How?" Draco asked, holding the little boy tighter. "Won't he...know when he calls?"
Severus gave him a rueful grimace. "Draught of Living Death," he said. "Professor Dumbledore believes that it will be able to fool the Dark Lord."
"So, every time that he...I have to?" Draco asked, balking at the thought that he'd have to drink the potion every time the Dark Lord called.
"Just once, and now, to sever the cord. He is planning to summon all of us in the early morning hours, to see if the report of your and certain others' untimely deaths, is true," Severus explained.
"And is it?" Draco asked, thinking of his parents, of those he'd considered his friends, other his age who'd foolishly declared their loyalty to a megalomaniac.
"As far as the Dark Lord and others are concerned, it will be," Severus said, lifting the still sleeping boy from Draco's arms and carrying him into a room that had a crib and a single bed.
"A trusted house elf will see to your needs until it is safe for you to resurface," Severus said, placing the toddler in the crib and turning his back while Draco dressed in the pajamas that were lying on the bed.
"I'm ready," Draco said, though he really wasn't.
"Here," Severus said, handing Draco the Draught of Living Death. "Be sure to drink it all. I'll return after the Dark Lord has released us from our summons to wake you."
"And the others?" Draco asked, even as his eyelids started to droop, the sleep of the living dead dragging him under.
"You needn't worry about them," Severus said, brushing the bangs from Draco's eyes and tucking him in.
When Draco was wakened by Severus an undetermined amount of time later, he wasn't sure if the memory he had of the man he'd always thought of as an uncle pressing a kiss to his forehead was real or not. In any case, real or not, the thought of such a gesture alone made Draco feel warm and secure. Safer than he'd felt in years.
The child, Benjamin, was far easier to entertain than Draco feared he'd be, and Dumbledore dropped by often to spend time with the little boy and get to know him, to modify the child's memories. He spent time with Draco as well, informing him about what was going on outside of his safe haven. And when Dumbledore finally came to take the boy away a few weeks later, Draco didn't want to let him go. The little boy's cries for him, his chubby hands reaching for him, did not help matters any.
"I believe that I should give the two of you some time to say goodbye," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eyes.
Thankful, Draco picked the little boy up and squeezed him tight. "You'll be good, won't you?"
Benjamin nodded. "You be good, too?"
Draco laughed. "I'll do my best."
"I love you, Drac," Benjamin said, kissing Draco on the cheek.
"I love you, too, Benny," Draco said. "Be good."
"I will," Benjamin promised, and with that, he was gone, leaving a picture of colorful lines and misshapen objects behind. He'd said it was him and Draco, and his parents (angels) watching over the both of them. Draco could only hope that it was true. Though he was thankful that he was no longer under the thumb of the Dark Lord, that the Draught of Living Death had set him free, he couldn't help but hope that the war would be over soon so that he could return to those that he cared about, that he would no longer have to live in fear for his life and the lives of others.
The place felt empty without Benjamin there, and the house elf was not the best company, so when Dumbledore returned, Draco was more than happy to see him.
"Benjamin is safely secured with his new family," Dumbledore said. "I suspect that Severus will be here to check on you before long."
"Thank you, Sir," Draco said, and he meant it. He may not have thought much of Dumbledore, or of his cause before he'd fallen in with his father's crowd, but he had nothing but respect for the man now.
"Take care of yourself, you are not alone," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. "You did a very good thing in sparing Benjamin's life. I believe he will bring a great deal of joy to everyone he meets. I know that he has done so for me, and the family I left him with are already smitten with him."
Words stuck to the roof of his mouth, and Draco could only nod in response, heart swelling with the thought of having done something unselfish and good for once in his life in sparing the life of another. Perhaps this meant that he wasn't as irredeemable as he'd always thought he was. Perhaps this meant that, after the war, he would not have to live in the shadows.
The hug that Dumbledore gave him was unexpected, but not unwelcome. "You're a good man," he whispered. "I'm proud of you."
It wasn't the same as hearing it from his father's lips, something he'd been longing to hear all his life, but it did make Draco feel better about himself. "Thank you, Sir."
"I'm merely speaking the truth," Dumbledore said as he took his leave.
"You're a good man, too," Draco said, knowing his words had been heard when Dumbledore's steps faltered.
"I'm not half as good as everyone believes I am," Dumbledore said. "Like any good man, I've made mistakes. I have my regrets. The trick lies in not letting your mistakes define you, but rather striving to overcome them."