The title for this story came to me after watching Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." In the film, Quasimodo sings a song about never being destined for love – he terms it "heaven's light." I believe that Draco would feel similarly; that as he'd thrown his lot in with the Death Eaters, he would never be given a chance for redemption. His trip to Narnia, though, where he meets Aslan and is forgiven, irrevocably changes him, and gives him hope that all is not lost. He now has the strength to meet with Harry and express regret at the choices he has made.
Also, the "Harry Potter" parts of my story are based on the "Half-Blood Prince" movie. I think it fair to warn you that I shamelessly play with timelines for my own purpose. With that in mind, just pretend that Draco does most of his work on the Vanishing Cabinet after Harry has already cursed him, rather than his work having been completed to the point where he can successfully transport Death Eaters to Hogwarts.
As for the "Narnia" parts, I freely mix book and movie-verse. From the books, I believe that I only take the Pevensies' actual ages, rather than those of the actors playing them. From the movies, I borrow the chronology of events and how those events play out on-screen as opposed to on the page.
Draco was scared, a fact that he would never willingly admit to anyone, even were he to be threatened with death (which he had been). Nonetheless, he worked frantically to complete the task that the Dark Lord had chosen him for. Though his chest still pained him – and he cursed Potter to Hell, along with himself – his fear of the Dark Lord and his nefarious designs for his mother outweighed whatever physical discomfort he sustained. His fervor would have pleased his master, though by that point, Draco was past caring. All he wanted was for his family to be safe. He didn't care about sides in this war. He wanted out of it all. When Potter had confronted him in the bathroom, Draco had been almost ready to give up. The pressure was building; it came from all sides; he couldn't escape. His attempt at cursing Pot—Harry had been half-hearted at best. He'd been instructed by his Aunt Bella long enough to know that he had to truly mean an Unforgiveable for it to be effective. In that case, Harry would probably have felt a twinge, nothing more. Even had their confrontation taken place the previous year after Lucius' arrest, when Draco had still idolized his father and his ideals, he would still have not meant any harm. Harry was too precious to hurt. And where had that thought come from?
Turning his mind back to the task at hand – fixing the Vanishing Cabinet – Draco withdrew an apple from the pocket of his robes and cautiously placed it inside, shutting the door after it. With a swish of his wand and a whispered spell, Draco heard a rush of wind that signaled the apple's disappearance. With another wave of his wand, he summoned the apple back. Draco opened the door with trepidation, only to discover that a bite had been taken out of the apple. He was crushed – all his hard work and planning . . . for naught. No, not so. He would try again, and this time, he wouldn't – nay, could not – fail. Draco quaked at the thought of what form his punishment would have taken had he been at home. His body still bore the scars, and would for a long time to come. Life under the roof of the Dark Lord had been unpleasant, to say the least. For once, Draco had been glad for the end of summer, as it had signified a return to normality, of sorts. Though his task had sucked out the fun he might have otherwise had, he was still relatively safe from the influence of those who would seek to corrupt him, though not for much longer if – no, when – he succeeded. At that time, Hogwarts would no longer be seen as a safe haven, and the last shred of innocence he may retain would be torn away.
Had Draco ever been innocent? He wondered. Perhaps, once upon a time, before Harry Potter had entered his life and turned the wizarding world upside down with his sudden reemergence. That first meeting had changed him – to what extent, Draco had yet to fully understand. All he knew was that he'd been snubbed, and a Malfoy didn't take that lying down. He'd retaliated with petty insults, the end result being their encounter in Diagon Alley that past summer and his attack of Pot—Harry on the Hogwarts Express. In Diagon Alley, although Draco had half-expected to run into Harry at some point, he'd found himself foolishly hoping that he wouldn't. He'd been unprepared to see Harry so soon after having the dreaded Dark Mark tattooed onto his skin, a blemish he could never erase nor escape the notoriety that came with it. Over the years, Draco had developed a sixth sense when it came to Harry. As such, he'd known he was being followed to Borgin and Burkes, but he hadn't called attention to either Harry or his friends. He had almost wanted someone else to know, someone else to share his burden with. When that failed, he'd lashed out – unreasonably so – at Harry on the Hogwarts Express, breaking his nose and threatening to send him back to London, alone, exactly as Draco now felt. But he hadn't meant it. Had he ever?
Draco shook his head, mentally ridding himself of thoughts concerning Harry. He had a task to complete, after all, or else suffer his master's – not to mention his father's – displeasure. Now was not the time to be distracted. Having tested an inanimate object, it was now time to use a living being. Procuring the bird had not been easy; Draco had needed to wait for a time when the corridor was empty to smuggle it away. However, he had succeeded. Now if only the bird's purpose could be as successful. Trembling, he carefully set the bird inside and shut the door on it. When he next opened the door, he was horrified to discover that the bird was dead. Unbidden, tears began streaming down his cheeks. As he was alone, Draco felt free to let his true emotions show. He didn't know how long he spent crying, but he felt better for it in the end. Knowing what he must do, Draco snuck back to the bird's shared cage and stole the previous bird's companion. Taking it back to the Room of Requirement, he mindlessly went through the motions of testing the cabinet's capabilities. This time, though, he was in for a surprise, as the bird survived. Draco was startled and let out an involuntary shout of joy. He couldn't believe that it had actually worked. He was so close to completing his task, and then his family would be safe. That's all he'd ever desired.
Having often wondered what it was like to have siblings and to be part of a big family that would love and care for him, Draco found himself envying Ron Weasley, though certainly not because he'd managed to procure the friendship of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, when Draco had failed (and that was just a tiny white lie, Draco told himself, knowing the truth all the while). And that truth was that Draco was insanely jealous. Due to this fact, Draco had become attuned to Harry's movements; he could sense whether Harry was near or far away, safe or in danger. As such, he'd known that Harry was following him and trying to get into the Room of Requirement to find out what he was up to. Rather than dissuade him, as Draco rightfully should have done, he'd practically encouraged the Boy Wonder, doing his best to make things easier for him. Yet still Harry had failed. Draco was dismayed and discouraged. He knew that if he could get Harry alone, he stood a better chance of swaying Harry to his side and convincing him that he didn't want anything to do with Lord Voldemort and that he had never wanted to become a Death Eater – or, at least, that he'd become disillusioned with what being a Death Eater entailed and now wanted out. The attacks on Katie Bell and Ron were poor attempts at accomplishing his true mission, and he wanted someone to share everything with. He was tired of being alone.
Though the bird had survived, Draco knew that those who were depending on him would require further proof. That meant that he had to become a test subject. Steeling himself for what was to come, no matter how unpleasant, Draco stepped hesitantly into the cabinet and shut the door behind him. Before he knew it, air was roaring in his ears and he felt himself being whisked away. Then, just as suddenly, all was silent. Draco looked around in amazement. He certainly wasn't in the sister cabinet in Knockturn Alley. He couldn't say for sure where he was, but that he was standing on a snowy plain. All he could see for miles around was white. Even the trees, though far away, bore a light dusting of snow. A twin pair of mountains formed an imposing skyline. Draco took a deep breath as he prepared to explore his new surroundings. The air was clear and fresh, almost magical. Draco felt his worries fade away as a light breeze washed over him. Ignoring the chill – and really, a suit wasn't designed to be worn out in the cold – he looked around him with new eyes.
"Where am I?" he wondered aloud.
In the distance, Draco could make out an approaching figure. As it drew closer, he realized that it was a sleigh, and that it was driven by a pair of reindeer. Holding the reins and wielding a whip was a short little man that Draco vaguely recognized as a dwarf, having read about them in a book long ago. There was a tall and stately woman dressed in furs with snow white skin that Draco sensed would be as cold as ice. She had inky black hair and wore a crown. In her hands was a long silver wand. At her feet sat a young boy with raven locks, whose face was bruised and littered with cuts. He was mouthing something at Draco, but he seemed too cold to properly form the words.
"Who are you?" Draco demanded of the trio, and waited expectantly for an answer.