A/N: This is an AU set during the 7th book. Harry/Draco pairing. Probable slash. Possible non/con elements. Rated M. WIP.
No beta. Let me know if you spot errors. Your reward will be virtual hugs.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe.
Draco turned sharply away from the scene before him. He couldn't block out the screams though, they echoed through the Manor's lofty rooms. He looked longingly at the door, wishing more than anything that he could leave the room. Leave the manor. Hell, leave the country. It was a worthless hope though. He could not leave, there was no place that he could go where his comrades could not find him. Not for the first time, Draco regretted all the events that had led up to this moment.
It was strangely comforting to be able to think back though, and know that there was not much that he could have done to avoid this fate. Life had him by the balls since birth. He was a Malfoy, a death eater, and a pureblood right from conception. So although Draco didn't enjoy this spectacle, he didn't feel to guilty about his presence. Playing the hand he was dealt was not a sin. He wasn't responsible for his actions, right? Those mud bloods, muggles, and squibs… they were doomed from the second they were caught. Taking part in their tortures, in their deaths, didn't make it his fault. At least that is what he told himself.
A particularly loud shriek brought him back to the present. Abandoning his dark musings, Draco turned his eyes onto the even darker events unfolding in the middle of his dining room. Some mudblood ministry worker was convulsing on the floor, the target for countless curses from an array of death eaters. The portly man had long stopped begging for his life. He had stopped promising secrets, services, and gold if only they would let him go! The mud blood had even passed the point where he begged for death. Now he just screamed and twitched, his eyes rolled back in his head. Words were impossible, but they would not help him anyways. Draco's peers were not after his words, just the man's screams.
Soon the man would stop reacting, they all did eventually. Tortured until their minds and bodies snapped. A few laughs later, and the assembled death eaters would kill him. Once they bored of their sport they will leave his body on the dining room floor for Nagini to inspect. He had eaten cereal here once, Draco thought detachedly.
Draco was so caught up in his despair that he failed to notice a narrowed gaze watching him from across the room. Black eyes peered out of the Dark Lords pale face as he observed the Malfoy heir. Truly, the boy was too young for this company, to untrained. His every emotion flickered across his face. Disgust, longing, desolation… he could read them all. Normally a servant of his with such treacherous thoughts would be unacceptable. Measures would have to be taken. But the boy… Draco… was different. He watched as those innocent grey eyes widened further.
He felt as if he could feel the frantic thumping of the boy's heart from across the room. Voldemort wondered at how Draco kept his eyes so pure after all he had seen and done. Those whirling depths possessed none of the madness or emptiness that filled the stares of his other servants. Such eyes…
This is my first fan-fiction. I will be uploading weekly.
I would very much appreciate comments, constructive criticism, and advice. Let me know what you think.
