Title: What did he deserve?
Author: Anna-chan
Warning: Mention of slash and liberal dose of angst. Character death and suicide.
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned in this story belongs to J. K. Rowling. No profit was made with this story.
He'd been sitting in front of the typewriter for two days now, unable to get a single word out. At first, he came up with excuse after excuse to keep himself occupied, keep himself from having to do this. He'd run out of excuses two days ago. Now, sitting in front of the typewriter, his mind was blank. Where to start? There is so much to say. He hadn't eaten in those two days but he'd gotten used to it by now. Finally, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and licked his lips. His fingers, which were resting on the keys, began to move almost of their own accord.
This is not a happy story. The characters are not likeable and they are far from perfect. Parts of it is a mystery, even to me, even now. If nothing else can be said about Draco Malfoy, it is that he can keep secrets. Still, I flatter myself in thinking I know him best. Draco Malfoy died a traitor's death but he deserved honor even more than me. His story has never been told because no one knew it but me. Leave your preconceptions behind; this is the true story of one Draco Malfoy.
Who was Draco Malfoy? This is a difficult question to answer because he was so many things. Let me first make clear what he was not; he was not the son Lucius Malfoy raised; he never was. The heartless little Death Eater never existed despite Lucius' best efforts. He wore the mask of a Death Eater until it fused with his skin, until it seeped into his bones but his heart remained his. The night he started the second Great War, his heart almost fell to pieces.
Malfoy fled that night with Snape. Snape told me latter that Draco didn't stop shaking that night until sunrise. He looked up at Snape and at that moment Snape saw into Draco's soul for the first time. Snape knew then that Draco was perfect, even more so than he, to spy on the Death Eaters but he hesitated. He tried to secret Draco away, to get him to wait out the war but it could not be done. Draco was found a day latter. It was a good thing Draco could talk his way out of anything or he would have died right then.
Draco put his mask back on but now he knew his own heart. That was around the time mysterious owls began appearing at my window at night with secrets and tips on what to do next. At first I thought Snape acted alone in his spying. I discovered I was mistaken when, to my surprise, Draco Malfoy showed up on my doorstep. I almost killed him then and there. If it weren't for Snape, I would have.
I'm not sure when it started. When did I start to see Draco Malfoy, the true Draco Malfoy? Maybe it was the harmless pranks he sent me at uneven intervals, to keep me on my toes, or so he claimed. From him, I learned to approach all my mail cautiously. I never knew back when a harmless-seeming piece of mail may explode and dye everything (including my face) bright blue for days. Perhaps it was that night I found him huddled in a dark corner, quietly crying. When I asked him why he was crying, he replied, "I watched them die. I couldn't save them, not this time. If I tried, I would have given myself away. They died because I was selfish. I…" At the time, I didn't know what to say or do so I just held him, held him until he stopped crying. The next day, the Prophet's front page exploded with news of the utter destruction of a muggle village. I have never regretted my actions that night. He cared more than anyone, even more than me.
Before long, I fell in love with him. I liked to think he fell in love with me too. At any rate, we became lovers. Yes, the great Harry Potter is gay. It's not that much of a revelation, is it? I mean, I haven't had a girlfriend to last more than a week in … I never did have a girlfriend that lasted more than a week, actually. For that matter, I haven't had a boyfriend last more than a few days either, not since him.
Anyway in the next two years we got really good at casting sleeping charms, silencing charms, and privacy charms. When he came with Snape to report for me, we'd wait until night and cast light sleeping spells on all the occupants in the house to minimize the number of times they got out of bed. Draco would then spend the night in my bed and leave in the early morning. No one discovered our secret; we were quite paranoid about it.
In those two years, my relationship with Draco was the one thing that kept me sane. He kept me grounded, kept me from becoming like Voldemort. No one but he realized how close I was to becoming ruthless and cruel just like him. I wish I could have done the same thing for Draco but I couldn't. I watched as he sank deeper into his mask, as his heart was poisoned by the guilt. By the time the war ended, I had consumed him. I knew it and I knew that nothing could ever bring him back.
When Draco's trials began, I did not try to save him. I could do nothing for him but let him pay for his crimes. He died a traitor's death. He took our sins with him to his grave.
This is the thirtieth anniversary of his death. He has lain alone in his grave all this time. I could not join him because the living needed me to help them pick up the pieces after the war. now everything is stable again. My services are no longer necessary. It's time to give my heart what it really wants; to share his grave.
The next morning, Harry Potter's body was found by his housekeeper. His heart lay ripped out of his chest on the desk next to the typewriter. Within the hour news of his death had spread like wildfire all through the wizarding world and copies of the Daily Prophet with his suicide note were flying off the press into eager hands. Two days latter, Draco Malfoy's remains were dug up, as per the order of the new Minister of Magic and Harry Potter's body was added into the coffin. The whole of the wizarding world mourned for Harry and Draco for weeks. Draco Malfoy finally got what he deserved.