Author: Sable-eyed-lily
Rating: T
Author's summary: The war has been going on for five years. Draco reflects on everything, and has to make tough decisions.
Author's Note: I'm not sure if this is any good or not, so tell me what you think of it. Book seven never happened in my story. This is more like a follow up after HBP. Hope you enjoy!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these character.. unfortunately... They all belong to JKR.
Too Far Gone
Shadowed clouds fell across the once green land. The sun no longer shined on the bloodstained earth. A constant battle was fought all over the once peaceful England. A battle between Darkness and Light. The desolate grounds were as obscure as the dark side of the moon. A sudden crack of lightning made its path towards the damp lawn. As it momentarily shrouded the world in light, you could see a shadowed figure standing in front of one of the highest windows. Draco Malfoy was in Malfoy Manor, watching the rolling clouds bring an onslaught of rain. The stormy eyes held a person who had seen too much, and his pointed features remained a frozen muggle picture.
The war had been going on for about five years now. Neither side was truly winning. A constant tug-a-war between the Dark Order and what remained of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco rested his forehead on the glass, and peered out with unfocused eyes. He was silently reflecting on the last few years. The war had taken everything he had ever cared for. Every trace of innocence he had ever known had been shattered over the years. It all started with the Dark Mark. A slight twitch of the blonde's lips formed a grimaced. That night before 6th year had changed his entire life, and not for the better like he had thought.
The fall of Dumbledore was what truly brought on the wave of despair. The entire country had been enveloped by the fear and despondency. His mother's eyes never sparkled with laughter these days. They were as hollow as the eyes of corpses and trapped prisoners in the Manor. Sometimes he wasn't even sure if his mother was alive or an Inferi. She behaved mechanically, as if all the hope in the world had been sucked back into Pandora's box.
His father was dead. A punishment for another failed mission to kill Potter about a year ago. His father had also held the unresponsive eyes. His time in the Azkaban prison had really taken a toll on the man. Lucius had never been quite right again after a year in that place. He had no longer cared about dying after so much pain, after the destruction of the Malfoy family. Narcissa had grieved terribly, and she had never been the same since.
Draco slowly pulled up his sleeve, and traced the burnt flesh lightly. The ugly tattoo stood out painfully on the gray tinged skin. Draco continued to stare at the black burn that marred his flesh. It was an evil thing. It symbolized the loss of Draco's family. His world had been so full of life once upon a time. When Voldemort returned, the world had crashed around him. He didn't even flinch at the screams he inflicted with the hawthorn anymore. Everyone's innocence had disappeared faster than a dementor around a patronus.
Draco gasped, and hunched over in pain. No matter how many times it happened, you could never get used to the feel of cursed flesh burning. He watched as the snake on his forearm moved, and he immediately waved his wand to change into proper Death Eater robes. The meeting would be just downstairs. Since the time he had been seventeen, Malfoy Manor had been the Dark Order's headquarters.
Draco slid the white mask over his face, and slowly pulled up his hood. With a swirl of his robes, he headed down the stairs, and to the dining room. He arrived and gracefully sat in one of the dark mahogany chairs. He spotted his mother standing in one of the room's darker corners, her blonde tresses hiding her face from the other Death Eaters. The formerly spun sunshine of her hair now hung in lank locks and her skin was no longer healthy looking. It was pale and sallow, and if Draco didn't know better, he'd say she was a distant relative of Snape.
Draco snapped back to attention, as his Lord began to speak. "Welcome my loyal followersss." TThere was a slight hiss to the Dark Lord's speech, and Draco could here the faintest traces of parseltongue in his master's voice. "Tonight, we are to attack Hogsssmeade. There will be few Order membersss there. I expect you to not fail me again. The consssequencesssss would be.. Dire. Nott! What is your report."
"There are only four Order members to be stationed in Hogsmeade this evening, my Lord." Nott Senior's voice had a high pitched grating note to it.
"Excellent. You have done well my ssservant." Voldemort said, his scarlet eyes flashing towards the man. Nott bowed with respect before returning to his former position. "You ssshall leave at dusk. I have no need for prisoners, kill them all… Except Potter… If you ssee him, you are to capture him for me."
"Yes, my Lord." All of the Death Eaters intoned as one. The rest of the meeting continued without too much trouble. It was the same as usual. A little bit of torturing here. Some feet kissing there. Make sport of one of the Death Eaters for having a shameful family member, check. The occasional Crucio flying over head, check. Murmur 'I hate mudbloods and muggle filth.' every once in a while, check. Laugh at the Dark Lord's comments, check…Wait, not check. Draco remained mostly silent throughout the gathering.
"You are dissssmissed." All of the Death Eaters disappeared, leaving behind only a selected few. With a final bow, Draco also made his exit, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Draco paused outside one door in the midst of his journey back upstairs. The dark cherry door stood ominously in front of him. The young Death Eater hesitated a moment before entering the room slowly.
Draco inhaled sharply. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell the faintest traces of his father's cologne. He took a moment to admire the spacious study. The room hadn't been touched since Lucius had died at the hands of the Dark Lord. The blonde walked over towards the towering bookcases, and gently ran a finger over the spines. The room smelled the same as it used to, the overwhelming smell of old books and the thin hints of intoxicating cologne. He walked behind the impressive desk, and slowly sank into Lucius' chair. Draco felt a sudden wave of nostalgia rush over him.
~Summer of 1991~
"-but, father, why can't I?" An eleven year old Draco Malfoy whined petulantly.
"Because first years are not allowed to have their own brooms." Malfoy Senior snapped angrily. They were standing right outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Lucius was trying to reign in his temper as they waited for Narcissa. Both male Malfoys were heatedly glaring at each other as they stood in front of the window that held the new Nimbus 2000. Their argument was being held in quiet undertones
"You said it would be a crime if I didn't get picked for the house team." Draco argued, his voice rising rapidly. "Why am I not allowed to have my own broom?!"
"Because first years aren't even allowed to play Quidditch. Only when you have earned your spot on the team will I buy you a racing broom." Lucius said irritably. He was inwardly cursing Narcissa for shopping so long. If she had showed up, he wouldn't be arguing with his only son at the moment.
"But you said that Malfoys can do anything." Draco said persistently. "Why can't you just convince the Headmaster to make an exception?"
"We are Malfoys." Lucius stated sternly, looking at Draco disapprovingly. "We do not need to rely others to make our accomplishments. You will tryout for the house team in your second year, and you will earn it without my influence. When you accomplish that, I will buy new brooms for the entire team. And while you are there, you are to not bring shame to the Malfoy name, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, father." Draco muttered sulkily. He turned back to ogle at the Nimbus. His pointed nose almost pressed against the glass, but not quite.
Lucius would have run a hand through his hair in frustration, if it wasn't such a plebeian thing to do. He impatiently glanced up and down the bustling Diagon Alley in the hopes he would see the long blonde hair of his wife. There was no such luck. Lucius sighed miserably. He was stuck indefinitely with a sulking Draco. He was silently praying that the boy wouldn't throw a temper tantrum right here in the middle of the crowd. It would be quite scandalous.
"Father?" Draco asked suddenly.
"Yes, Draco?" Lucius mentally braced himself. If he heard one more thing about the damn broom, he may very well strangle his only heir.
"The Hogwarts gamekeeper…" Draco said slowly.
"What about the gamekeeper?" Lucius asked, his voice almost betraying his relief on the topic change.
"He's a savage, isn't he?" Draco asked, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Yes, it's a wonder how he's still employed at that school." Lucius grumbled slightly. He would have preferred it if Draco had gone to Durmstrang. Of course Narcissa would protest against it. The woman was far too protective of the boy. It was no wonder that Draco always seemed to get what he wanted. She spoiled him tirelessly. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, there was a boy in the robe shop earlier father." Draco said, his voice rising excitedly. "He's also going to Hogwarts this year. He was with the great oaf. He seemed to think quite highly of the giant man... It just seemed strange…"
"Did you make a new friend Draco?" Narcissa seemed to appear out of thin air. She smiled at Draco fondly and sent an apologetic expression to her aggravated husband.
"A Gryffindor or Hufflepuff friend, no doubt." Lucius sneered slightly. The family of blondes began to move towards the Leaky Cauldron. "What family is he from?"
"He left before he got the chance to tell me." Draco said, his delicately shaped lips forming a frown. "He didn't really talk that much to me…"
"Well, I'm sure you'll meet him on the train." Narcissa said, patronizing him. "I'm quite sure that you will make a wide group of friends while you're there."
Lucius turned to the eleven year old. There was a slight warning tone in his voice. "Friends of the higher class, no doubt."
"Yes, father."
"Did you show your father your new wand yet?" Narcissa asked.
The sulky expression on young master Malfoy disappeared instantaneously. He quickly pulled the hawthorn out of his robe pocket, and waved it for his father. A small shower of silver sparks came out. Draco looked at his father anxiously.
The older Malfoy placed a hand on his son's shoulder. His eyes showing pride, even if his face didn't. Draco seemed to bask in the happiness of his father's approval for the rest of the day.
Draco exhaled slowly. If he hadn't learned to mask his emotions at age four, he was sure there would have been a goofy grin on his face. The iced eyes seemed to melt into liquid mercury for a moment. Then moment was gone, and the storm clouds immediately descended once again.
There was a bittersweet smile on the pallid face. All his life, he'd craved his father's approval. It was almost like a drug, a constant craving in the pit of his stomach. His father never actually said he was proud, but Draco could see it in his guarded eyes. Now looking back, Draco thought he could remember other emotions in Lucius' eyes. Pride, happiness, joy, anger, love… The more he thought about it, the more it seemed realistic. He could no longer tell if those memories actually happened, or if it was only wishful thinking on his part.
Draco let out a weary sigh, and left the study with a leaden weight on his shoulders. He felt an odd pang of yearning envelop him. He missed his family. Of what things used to be. Everything was so… simple back then. He would have willingly paid Potter all the galleons in the world to stop the Dark Lord's return. To let Draco keep his family.
The blonde numbly prepared himself for the upcoming raid. He sheathed his wand under his sleeve, and was about to leave for the grounds. He paused for a moment, before changing direction and headed towards the direction of what was once his parents' bedroom. He faltered at the door before opening it slowly.
"Mother?" He called softly, waiting for a response.
"Lucius?" Narcissa asked, her voice incredibly weak.
Draco stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. "No mother, it's me, Draco." Narcissa was sitting in front of the fireplace, her eyes clouded and flicking over his face.
"Lucius, are you feeling well?" There was a concerned look on her face. "Draco is sleeping in the bassinet right now. He's such a wonderful little Dragon. He hardly even cries." Narcissa smiled at him with unfocused eyes.
Draco hesitated. His mother was in another one of her moods. Some days she thought he was his father, and others she was as normal as could be. Draco just played along, as always. "Of course I'm fine, Moth-Narcissa. The Dark Lord has sent me on another mission tonight."
Narcissa frowned. "You know I do not like it when you go on those. I hate not knowing if you will return or not…"
"I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise." Draco tried to give her a reassuring look.
"One of these days," Narcissa said quietly, "You won't come back to me and I don't think I could bear it."
"Everything will be fine, I promise. One day, things will be back to normal." Draco leaned down, and kissed her gently on the head.
He almost at the door, when she called out to him. "Lucius…"
He turned back and asked, "Yes?"
"Do you ever feel like… nothing's real anymore?" Narcissa seemed to be struggling with words. "Lately, I feel so… out of place. There's this weird feeling I have, and I don't know what to make of it." She let out a hoarse laugh. "Some days I think I've gone crazy. Do you ever feel that way?"
You have no idea, Draco thought miserably. "Sometimes."
"I feel as if I'm constantly drowning and I don't understand why. It feels as if death is constantly on my mind. Like I'm yearning for it." She continued. "I should be feeling so happy right now. We just had our little Dragon. Why do I feel like this, Lucius?" She seemed to be pleading with him.
"Shh… Just close your eyes and go to sleep." Draco walked up to her.
"I-just…" He eyes slowly seemed to sharpen and they became focused once more. She gave him a confused look. "Draco?"
"Yes, mother, it's me." Draco immediately schooled his features. As he looked down at his fragile mother, he felt something gnawing at his insides. "…Just try to get some rest."
She suddenly reached out for him, and grabbed his left arm. She pulled up his sleeve, and just stared at the ugly tattoo that marred her son's skin. "This was never what I wanted for you." She whispered it so quietly, that Draco couldn't be sure if he heard correctly.
"Just rest for now." Draco said softly spoke. He watched his mother sleep for a few moments, before pulling out his wand. "I'm sorry." A painful expression crept onto his face for a moment before he whispered the curse. "Avada Kedavra."
Her face looked so serene in death. Draco smiled bitterly. As he had gotten older, the displeased expression on his mother's face became more prominent. The golden curls glowed as the fire crackled. Draco carefully reached forward and tucked a single lock behind one of her ears. A pale hand traced his mother's features with the lightest of touches. A single finger shakily traced her eyelids and a mournful sigh was on weary lips. He leaned in towards her ear, and said in a soft hush. "You're safe now. You don't have to be frightened.. Just sleep…"
He took one last look at his mother's now peaceful face, before leaving for the grounds. There was no emotion on his face as he and the other Death Eaters prepared to leave. He was in a state of shock, he hardly took in his surroundings as they all disapparated for the village. He numbly threw different curses as he wandered through the mayhem.
He heard a distant yell of, "The Order of Phoenix is here!" But he paid no mind to it. Nothing mattered anymore. He looked dispassionately at the screaming people around him. He felt a curse hit him, and his face rushed to meet the ground. He was flipped over, and he stared into the green eyes of none other than Harry Potter.
Harry Potter had certainly changed over the years. War did that to a person. His eyes were also empty, unfilled with emotion. A person could no longer feel squeamish about casting an Unforgivable these days. If they did, they never lasted long.
"Trip Jinx." Potter said quietly, his voice low.
Draco inwardly grimaced at the irony. He bowed his head, and waited for what he knew would be the killing curse. He waited another moment, before glancing at the sable haired man. "What are you waiting for?" He snarled.
Potter looked at him with what could only be pity. "It doesn't have to be like this, Malfoy."
"Yes, it does." Draco looked up at the sky as it began to lightly rain again. "You can't save everyone, Potter. Some are just too far gone to be saved."
"I can't believe that." Harry said, his tone firm.
Draco let out a bitter laugh, sounding almost hysteric. "Look around you. Right now, hundreds of Death Eaters are killing everyone in this place. I just cut out a woman's heart and killed what looked to be a nine year old before you caught me. There is nothing in me worth saving."
"Everyone has a chance at redemption." Harry seemed to be saying this more to himself.
"You can try all you want, but you'll never be able to save them all." Draco seemed to taunt him. "Come on, Potter, be a hero and kill me. You always wanted to in school, why should this be any different?"
"Things have changed since Hogwarts."
"Come on, Potter." Draco goaded, his voice borderline hysteric. "Be a good little Gryffindor and put the sorrowful Death Eater out of his misery." His eyes were literally begging the Boy-Who-Lived to put an end to it. To make all the feelings cease to exist. To make Death stop teasing him into further insanity. To not let him see another dying face.
Potter seemed to stand there for a moment, before saying a soft, "I'm sorry." He then began to mouth out the two words. Draco let a small smile cross his face, as he felt the rush of green hit him. The body thudded to the floor, and Draco moved no more…
~Fin~
What did you think????
Review please!!!!
Sable-eyed-lily
