Written for My Boggart… My Patronus (Draco Malfoy, Patronus)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that involves Harry Potter.
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He stood in the empty room, wand gripped tightly in his hand. He was beginning to get exhausted. He'd been at this for hours now, week really, and still no solid Patronus had managed to make its way from his wand. He shouldn't have expected any different. The book said that dark wizards weren't able to produce such a charm. You couldn't get any darker than being a Malfoy.
Raising his wand, the end pointed towards the back wall, he breathed deeply, focusing his mind. He tried to conquer up a happy memory. So far, flying, Christmas three years ago, and his first day at Hogwarts hadn't been able to produce the desire he needed. He wasn't going to let that stop him though.
"And what do you think you are doing?" The low drawl caused Draco to falter. Dropping his wand behind his back, he turned sharply to face the man who had spoken.
"Nothing, Professor." Draco watched as the man walked slowly into the room. His black robes billowed behind him in a manner that Draco had never found frightening until a few months ago when the man… he didn't want to think about that night.
Snape ran a finger over the books Draco had scattering the table beside him. He lifted ebony eyes, a gleam of amusement passing through slightly. "A Patronus charm. May I ask why you would wish to learn such a frivolous charm?"
Draco didn't answer. Instead, he looked out the window where a set of dementors floated in tattered cloaks, waiting to be sent onto their next victim.
"I see." Snape looked at the boy. "You're fear is understandable."
"I'm not scared." The quiver in Draco's voice was present enough that he prayed Snape didn't take note of it.
"So you say." The man turned, frowning down at the text. "How far have you gotten with your practice?"
Draco just stared at the man. Snape turned his gaze onto him, a brow raised in waiting. "Not much. A little cloud. It faded quickly."
"And what was the memory?"
"Nothing specific," Draco answered.
"I see," Snape turned, his gaze fully on the young boy. He frowned at the sight.
Draco had gained a bit of weight over the last few months, but even that wasn't enough to put him back to a healthy weight. He cheeks were far too sharp against his all too pale skin. His eyes were clouded over with dark bags. Scars marked over his face and up his bared arms. His usual clean cut attire was replaced with a dark grey shirt, the bottom hem wrinkled, and a pair of faded black slacks. His arms were bared, and the Dark Mark was a hideous addition to his scared arms.
"Well," Snape drew his gaze away from the shell of the once proud boy, and instead onto the book. "You'll have to pick a stronger memory than whichever you picked. I suggest a moment you really treasure. A person you really care for."
"Sir?" Draco watched the man, unsure as to what to expect.
"It doesn't necessarily need to be a single memory per say," Snape said. "Just something that gives you happiness. Something to empower you."
"Sir, I don't…"
"It's different for everyone. But once you find what you need, be it a memory or a person, whatever it is that you need, envelope yourself in it. Concentrate on it, with all your might," Snape finished.
"How do you know all this?" Draco watched the man in confusion.
"It's best to not ask too many questions. Remember, keep your head down, Draco. Don't draw too much attention to yourself." Snape nodded at him, a tight frown on his lips, before turning sharply and exiting the room. Draco watched as his old potions master left, the door clicking shut behind him. He stood there a moment longer, gripping his wand. A gulp tore through his throat as he replayed those words over and over.
Trying to shake himself from the feeling of strangeness, he raised his wand once more. A shadow passed outside his window. Prying his eyes from the hooded dementors, Draco steeled his nerves. The beast continued to float outside the window, hovering like it was watching him.
Draco hated these creatures. He hated how empty they made him feel. How quickly they stole away the little bit of happiness that he managed to hold onto. In the growing army of the Dark Lord, these foul beast were by far the scariest. Although Draco would never admit that fear.
He'd rather face it.
His knuckles creaking from his tight grip, Draco kept his eyes locked onto the creature on the other side of the glass. It was closer now, just outside the window. It raised its wrinkled and boned hand in a slow and rusted movement. A finger was pointed out towards him.
"Expecto Patronum," Draco spoke through gritted teeth. He felt his wand give a jolt. The thin mist came from the end of his wand, but quickly disappeared. The dementor moved closer, but was thankfully blocked by the glass.
Draco closed his eyes, his wand hand dropping by a fraction. He swore he could feel the temperature drop by a few degrees.
He thought of days before darkness. Days before pain and tears. He thought on the time before the Dark Lord, before plots of murder and taken childhoods. He thought on days at Hogwarts with his friends. A carefree life of ignorance and bliss. He thought on days when he hadn't been too scared to talk his friends in fear that they would turn on him and confess his wavering loyalties to the Dark Lord.
Days before he was wanted for questioning in the murder of Albus Dumbledore.
It wasn't a memory to say, but it was empowering him. He imagined his mother's face, no longer covered in tears. He imagined a world where there was light among the grey and grim. A world where the Dark Lord wasn't able to take and take and destroy every little thing that ended up under his blood stained feet.
It was a hope. He didn't have a happy memory strong enough for what he needed, but maybe this might work. He allowed that hope to envelope and over take him.
Raising his wand back to a height of confidence, Draco stared directly at the monster outside his window. He was tired of always being scared. Tired of always running and hiding. He was tired of sinking into the darkness. Maybe he needed a little bit of light.
"Expecto Patronum," Draco spoke, his voice only shaking in the slightest of hitch. He felt his wand buck at the power. As before, the white mist began to pour from his wand in an incorporeal shape. He steadied himself, stopping the shaking in his wand hand.
The mist shifted in the air before him. Watching, Draco couldn't help but smile at the set of paws that began to kick in the air. He caught sight of a long, carefully shaped face of his Patronus before it faded away into nothingness.
As his Patronus faded, Draco felt a bit of hope in a hopeless world.
That hope cracked slightly at the sight of the dementor hovering outside the window. It didn't seemed bothered by the semi corporeal Patronus of a shattered boy in grey.
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I hope you guys enjoyed. This was a fun write.
What, you ask, is Draco's Patronus? The answer, is I don't really know. We have yet to get an actual answer for what his Patronus would be, and I refuse to accept that he wouldn't have one. So I will play around. I feel like his Patronus would be either something like a great owl or a fox. No, not a ferret. I enjoy fics where his Patronus is a ferret, but not in this case. I like to lean more towards it being like a fox. He is sneaky and crafty and foxy. So fox it is.