Title: Terror in the Night
Author: Feygan
Completion Date: April 12, 2003
Fandom: Harry Potter
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There were few of them left. They had died one by one in the night.
It was funny that night used to be their natural habitat, that they had used it to terrify the wizarding world, popping out of the shadows to cause pain and death. Now they were the victims of the fear--but they all knew they were going to die, because they knew what was out there, what was coming for them.
Draco huddled under his cloak. His eyes were tingling and burning, but he didn't want to blink and leave himself vulnerable. There would be no second chances.
He sipped from his flask full of Pepperup Potion. He didn't want to fall asleep and never wake up.
Things had changed so much since his time at Hogwarts. There was no longer any peace and definitely no time for childish arrogance and petty squabbles with boys like Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, even if the Boy-Who-Lived and his lackey hadn't already been dead.
So many had died. There were only Death Eaters, the Master, and the Terror in the Night left. The Muggles had been wiped out as a species, and the wizarding world had been decimated until only Voldemort's most faithful remained and him.
Sometimes Draco dreamed about how his life might have been different. If he had never taken the Dark Mark, if he had fought against Voldemort, maybe things might have been better. After all, it had been his knife that had killed Harry Potter. And maybe if the wizarding world had had the hope the symbol that was the Boy-Who-Lived provided, Voldemort could have been defeated. Instead, everyone was dead.
And now we're dying one by one. It's somehow fitting. We took his life, and now he takes ours.
There was no warning, not a single scuff of loose pebbles, just a viper strike from out of the darkness. It was almost a relief to let go.
Slipping to his knees, then onto his side, he blinked his eyes dimly, there was no reason to keep them open anymore. Vaguely he could make out the shape of a slender figure wrapped in ragged cloth. For a second, he thought he saw the bright flame of hair gleaming in the darkness.
"I'm sorry Percy."
There was nothing of the pompous prefect and Head Boy left in the smile that flashed at him. There was only teeth.
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=THE END=