Regret.

He could feel it burning through his veins, making his skin crawl and his heart to pump harder in his chest. It was self-consuming and yet, as he tried, he had known he had no one else to blame for it had been his own bad choices that had led him to this moment.

Arrogance, foolishness, those had been the qualities that had brought him to failure. It had been inevitable, he always knew that, but he had never bothered to change his ways, and now he had to accept the faith that awaited him.

Now, now he would pay for his mistakes and those made by his parents, the poetic justice of sorts. The son was paying for his father's sins.

Silver eyes reflected the light of the moon as he stared into the clear night sky, thinking about what was to come. He used to love this, just sitting at the edge of his window and watching the stars, it reminded him a time when he was younger, and his mother would tell him the stories of each constellation. It reminded him of a better time, and the loss of that is perhaps the heaviest regret that he carried with him tonight.

How long would it be before his presence would be requested by the Lord invading his home? How long would it be before his presence would be eradicated from this world?

Soon. He knew that not even he could be that much of a fool to think that he stood a chance at survival.

It was in times like these that he thought about his life or existence, seventeen years wasted on pettiness, jealousy, and hatred.

And there it was again, the regret.

Draco Malfoy stared at his hands, slowly unraveling the sleeve of his shirt, black ink contrast to his pale skin. He had been so proud when it had been branded into his forearm, but all that been left now was the terror and the fear.

Fear.

The only emotion that was greater than regret was fear. He didn't want to die, not like that. He didn't want to be remembered as the kid that had taken more than he could chew, a failed Death Eater - the bad man.

He wanted to change all of that, he wanted another chance, but it was too late now. All the cards had been laid down on the table, and Draco had nothing hiding up his sleeve.

The room was dimly lit by candles, dark figures sitting around a long table in silence, their eyes watching. Some watched with excitement, others with fear, but a specific pair watched with tears.

"Please, my lord," spoke the woman, her platinum hair like stars in the darkness, "he's only a child if anything it is I who must take the blame for disappointing you," her usually regal voice was shaking, her entire body begging for mercy.

The woman, however, was not begging for herself, but for the figure kneeling on the floor, blood sipping through his once white shirt while his breathing came out in raspy gasps as he attempted to conceal his pain. He had expected the torture, and so had his mother, but neither had expected such a crowd.

Draco did not dare to look up, not even now, his fear greater even in the face of possible death. Possible, Draco knew how likely said possibility was, it was too late for him.

"Please, punish me, my lord," Narcissa Malfoy continued, unable to watch her only son meets his faith.

"Silence," the Dark Lord commanded, forcing the mother to close her mouth as she looked right into his red eyes. "This is a punishment for you as well, for your incompetence and failures," his voice echoed through the room. "Be this an example to those who dare to fail me," his red eyes lingered around each of the occupants of the room. "Fail me, cross me, and you shall face the consequences," and with that, he turned his attention back to Draco.

The boy did not look up, preparing himself for what would come next and wishing it to be over now, he could not take this any longer, the pain or the shame. If this was to be over with then, he just wanted it to be over.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? If so please, we would all love to hear your excuses for disappointing me, for being unable to carry the tasks given to you," the voice was demanding, but Draco gave him now answer, his teeth grinding against each other. "One can never trust a Malfoy, a coward, an incompetent fool," Draco moved his head away as the Dark Lord spat in his direction. "Better the line would end here."

"Please, please, don't do this," Narcissa called out as the Dark Lord pulled out his wand, standing up from her seat and rushing towards her son, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll do anything," she said.

Slowly, Draco moved to unwrap her arms from around him, slowly and yet fast enough so no Death Eater would step forward. "Mother, don't," he told her, his voice cold and raspy. "This had been my choice, not yours, it is I who failed, not you," he told her, unable to bear the thought of his mother dying for him. "It's alright," he told her.

Narcissa began sobbing, wrapping him in a hug once more and whispering comforting words in his ear. Draco returned her hug this time, holding onto his mother until strong arms removed her from his presence.

"How touching," came the mocking voice of the lord and this time Draco did not shy away from looking up. He was still afraid, but he would welcome death than being forced to follow him. This inhuman creature that had ruined his family, that had destroyed him.

He searched for someone to blame for so long, but the person was right there, a man that made himself to be a god.

Lord Voldemort looked at him with curious eyes, as if finding something new in the silver colored eyes. "Anything you'd like to say?"

"Yes, my lord," he said, forcing himself to stand up on shaky legs. "I'll see you in hell-"

"-Avada Kedavra!"

In a flash of green, the pale body of Draco Malfoy dropped to the ground, empty silver eyes staring up at the ceiling, but there was no fear left in them.

Harry Potter woke up with a start, sweat clinging into his skin while his breath came out in raspy gasps. Frantic eyes looked around him, for a moment unable to recognize where he was.

"Harry, mate?" came the familiar voice of his best friend, Ron turned around in his bed with a groan, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Harry. "Alright?" he grumbled half asleep, trying to care but at the same time unable to honestly do so at that hour.

The dark haired boy shook his head, moving his hands through his messy hair as his breath slowly went back to normal. "Yeah, I'm alright," he confirmed after a moment, biting on his lower lip as he looked at Ron once more. "But..." he wasn't sure how to say it, it didn't feel real. "But I think Malfoy's dead," he said.

"Malfoy? what?" Ron asked, blinking sleep out of his eyes. "I don't-"

"-I just saw Voldemort kill him," Harry said before Ron could finish. "I just saw Voldemort kill Draco Malfoy."