It had all happened so fast that he could hardly focus on what was going on. There were only two things that he was sure of at the moment.
One. Dumbledore was dead.
Two. He hadn't been the one to kill him. Which meant that he was likely going to die.
He had known for his entire sixth year how brutally serious his task was. He was to get the cabinet working so that his fellow death eaters could enter the castle. He was then to murder Dumbledore. By himself, with absolutely no help. The dark lord had seen it as the "ultimate test". Yes, his parents were incredibly loyal death eaters, to the point where Lucius had given up his his very own home to Voldemort. But even that hadn't been enough. Draco Malfoy no longer had a bloody home, yet the dark lord needed more.
The dark lord had sensed Draco Malfoy's hesitance, which therefore made him hesitant towards Draco. He hadn't truly trusted "his allegiance". He had always wanted to get rid of Dumbledore, however it wasn't until he thought of the youngest Malfoy that he realized exactly how he had wanted it done.
Despite Narcissa's quiet pleads to Lucius to do something, Voldemort had planned for Draco to kill Dumbledore at the end of his sixth year. According to his father, he should have seen it as an honor.
It was an honor that the dark lord trusted him with such an important task!
It hadn't felt like it. Instead, it had felt like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
He hadn't wanted to do it. He didn't have to like Dumbledore to recognize that what he was expected to do was awful. Draco wanted no part of the task, but the dark lord wasn't exactly someone one could say no to.
Draco had wanted to find a reason, any reason to not return to Hogwarts for his sixth year without being painfully transparent. He came up with none. He'd considered getting himself expelled almost immediately. Surely, if he had shown his fresh dark mark to a few freshman that would have done the job, right? That would have been fantastic to explain to the dark lord.
Draco Malfoy had found himself waking up nearly every single night of his sixth year from nightmares. Every night had been different, however they had all consisted of the murder of Albus Dumbledore in one way or another. In some of them he succeeded but in most he failed. In the ones that he failed, he was almost immediately killed by several different death eaters, or Voldemort himself. In the ones where he had succeeded, he still didn't survive. Whether it have been at the hands of Potter or several different despised classmates, Draco's fate almost always seemed to be the same.
When he couldn't take the nightmares anymore, he had decided to hurry up the inevitable and kill himself.
Despite having constantly thought about it, he had ended up planning it on a whim, in potions one morning. Students weren't allowed out after dark, but what was he to care? What would a professor that found him do? Give him detention? He didn't even consider prefects finding him because he couldn't possibly have cared less if they had.
He planned that as soon as everyone was asleep in his dormitory, he'd leave. None of his friends would ask where he was going. He'd grown distant from even his best of friends that year and even though they didn't know exactly what he was being asked to do by the dark lord, they knew it was taxing.
He planned on leaving the dorm that evening and making his way up to the owelry. There was no one near the west wing in the evening as far as he knew, which would make his plan less of a hassle. He didn't want to run in to anyone and delay what he was going to do. He just wanted everyone to be done with.
Snape had caught him in the owlery just in time. After a night of being scolded and told to toughen up, Snape had followed him back to the Slytherin common room and let him go back to his room to sleep. He had given him Sleeping Draught to get him through the night and even though it helped somewhat, it hadn't been nearly enough.
A month later Potter had tried to kill him in the bathroom of all places, and while he was initially furious, he found himself also somewhat glad. Realistically, he could have killed Potter right then and there, but instead he allowed him to hit him. He hadn't been expecting "Sectumsempra" to be used on him, but he had almost been glad it was. He wanted to die.
But alas, Snape had gotten to him just in time then, too. And though it was a long, painful process, Snape had healed him. And so then he was back to square one. It was infuriating.
After a year of sleepless nights, several suicidal plans with only one attempt at actually following through with one, the end of the year came and his time was up. Before he knew it, it was time. He'd felt sick the entire time, but he planned to go through with it. By himself, he cornered Dumbledore upstairs in the tower in his office. Dumbledore had been obnoxiously kind and had tried to talk him out of it. Although Draco would never admit it, had he been given a few more minutes, he might have actually taken Dumbledore's offer.
But he couldn't. No one understood. They had his mother. If he was to fail not only would he be killed, which honestly, he could handle, but his mother would be too. His mother had never wanted any of this, but instead had been forced into it by his feckless father. His father deserved to die; not his mother. This was all of his father's fault. If it hadn't been for Lucius Malfoy, Draco could have grown up normally. Draco could have been worrying about exams as others had been doing, rather than worrying about this bullshit task given to him by a man that had taken over his home.
Snape had shown up for the third and final time that evening to save Draco. He had known that Draco wouldn't have been able to complete his task, so he showed up to complete it for him. It could have been their little secret, too, if his Aunt Bella and the other horrendous lackeys hadn't showed up just in time to see Snape go through with it.
"Let's go," Snape hissed as he pulled Draco through the castle. He wasn't sad that Dumbledore had been killed, he realized. He was fucking terrified of what was about to happen to him because he hadn't been the one to do it. "Hurry up, boy."
Snape had dragged him down through the headmasters office, through the door and down one of the dark halls. He only stopped once he came to a closed door. In the distance behind them, Draco could faintly hear his aunt's cackles of delight. She didn't care at the moment that Draco had failed. That was for later. Now, however, was time for celebration. After all, Dumbledore was finally dead. If the dark lord felt emotion, he'd have been thrilled.
Snape muttered a few quiet words at the door and it popped open almost immediately. "In here," he growled as he shoved Draco through a door.
The room was an old, clearly abandoned classroom. There had been a large desk towards the front of the room that the professor at the time must have used along with a few ancient looking desks strewn about the room. The several layers of dust that sat on each desk was enough to tell him that the room hadn't been used in years.
"I failed," whimpered Draco once he accepted that they were alone. "He's going to kill me. He's going to kill mum."
A bright flash outside the window caught Draco's attention. Despite Snape's strong grip on him, Draco struggled through the abandoned classroom to get closer to the window. He frowned once he saw where the flash had come from.
The dark, cloudless night sky was no long illuminated by stars, but by the same marking that was embedded into his left arm. He should have been thrilled. "His side" was winning now, weren't they?
As if it really mattered. He'd probably be dead before dawn.
"Your mother will be fine," Snape said sternly while jerking Draco's arm to get his attention again. "But you need to go. Now. I cannot protect you on my own anymore."
"Protect me?" Draco barked, followed by a humorless laugh. How in the world had Snape protected him? All Snape had been throughout the year was a thorn in his side, constantly thwarting any plan Draco had that didn't align with what the dark lord wanted. Protected him. How preposterous. "How have you protected me? You've made my life a living hell this past year! I didn't want this!"
"You were being a coward," Snape argued. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He went to argue, however Snape didn't give him the time to. "You need to go. I knew you would. I've spoken to the Order. They will help you."
"The what? What in the bloody hell is-"
"We do not have time for this!" Snape hissed. He led Draco to the front of the room where the desk sat. On the desk, was a book that he hadn't noticed before. Snape dragged Draco over to the side of it. "Do as they say, Draco."
"Get your hands off of me," Draco snarled while ripping his arm out of Snape's grasp. "How dare you—"
Snape looked as if he was ready to shove Draco out the window, however instead he grabbed Draco by his shoulders and roughly turned him to face the table. Before Draco was able to spit another word, Snape grabbed his arm and roughly threw Draco's hand towards onto book.
The floor went out from beneath Draco and the world began to spin around him. He'd used portkeys many times before so he should have been fine, but this time he was positive he was going to be sick.
In a matter of seconds it was over and he landed roughly on his ass on concrete steps. Draco sat for a moment, cursing angrily under his breath as he tried ran his hands over his legs that were now aching. Unlike the castle he had just left, Draco was now sitting on the steps of a much smaller building. It was dark around him, however several street lamps posted throughout the street in front of him provided enough light for him to see that he was nowhere near Hogwarts. Instead, he looked to be somewhere in London.
The world around him was quiet, but his ears were ringing from the commotion he had just left behind. After sitting on the landing for a few moments, a horrid wave of nausea that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach since he had been in the tower alone with Dumbledore finally hit him. Draco turned to his left end emptied the contents of his stomach on the bush next to him.
The sound of his retching caused a light to turn on inside the home he was sitting in front of. He groaned inwardly. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to deal with more people. Lord help him if they were muggles. He didn't have the patience for their ignorance ever, but especially at the moment.
There was the sound of footsteps inside the home, voices and eventually locks on the door being turned. The door slowly opened and to his surprise and his dismay, Draco recognized the woman with the ridiculously colored hair that opened the door.
"Draco," Tonks breathed. There was sad smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We've been expecting you. Welcome to Grimmauld Place."
A/N: Hi there! So this is my first Dramione fanfic I've ever written! I've wanted to write one for a while, but finally got the courage to actually do it now, so please be a little easy on me! I've got the entire story planned out, which I'm thrilled about! It's a bit of a slow-burn Dramione, but I think it'll be worth it. :)
Also, it feels weird to say this but if you don't like Draco Malfoy/Dramione, please don't leave nasty comments on the story? I've already had one, which surprised me. Clearly this is not the story for you if you don't like Draco, so why waste your own time? Also, it costs nothing to be kind. :)
Happy reading! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment :)