House: Hufflepuff
Year: 3
Category: Drabble
Additional Requirement: First Person
Prompt: [Speech] "I used to think you were my best friend,"
Word count: 720
Behind the bars in a Ministry holding cell. How did I end up like this? I stared through the metal cylinders which kept me locked inside. They shone in the small light of a burning oil lamp hanging over the cell. The lamp was the only light source and it illuminated the hallway in an eerie way. I sighed while rubbing a hand over my face. What a place. Who would've thought that I—the great Draco Malfoy—would end up like this?
It was around a day since the Aurors came. They had burst into the house and caught me completely off-guard. Thinking back, I remembered I had barely drawn my wand before they took it away and put me in handcuffs. They had been efficient and cold. Their unforgiving eyes had stared at me as if I was a disgusting slug under their shoes. Maybe that was what I was.
I had believed I wasn't going to be caught. Some days after the Dark Lord's defeat, Potter had given me a visit. He wanted to know if my beliefs had changed for the better. And he deemed me worthy of his forgiveness. Ok, that was my words, not his. But my point was, that he promised to make the Ministry let me go free. And he did.
Now, it was a couple months after The Dark Lord's final downfall, and most of the Death Eaters had been rounded up in the days after the Battle of Hogwarts. Sitting on the hard stone floor, I stared with unseeing eyes in front of me. Why was I caught now? My question went unanswered. Although I didn't say it out loud, and even if I did, there was no one here who could hear me. I didn't know the answer either.
I ran a hand through my hair. It was dirty, even though I had only been here for a day. The floor beneath me was chilling. I drew my legs up to my chest. Sitting in a fetal position, I figured I looked rather pathetic. Laughter filled the air, it was mine. It sounded slightly hysteric, even to my own ears. How many of my classmates wouldn't have loved to see me like this? I mused. Answering my own question, I smiled in at the stone wall in misery.
"Many," I whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the naked hall. They were slow and heavy. I contemplated if I should stand up, or at least sit in a more dignifying position. But my body refused to cooperate. It was cold.
The familiar face of Gregory Goyle appeared on the other side of the bars. He was alone. I looked up at him, not sure if I should say something.
He frowned down at me with a weird look in his eyes. I detected a hint of pity in them. Gritting my teeth in annoyance, I snarled up at him.
"What do you want?" I glared. The young adult stared another second at me, before speaking.
"I'm sorry." The two words were the only thing which escaped his mouth. Right after he looked away, as if ashamed. I looked at him confusion. What was he sorry about?
"What?" I asked, my confusion growing for every second which was left unanswered.
As my narrowed eyes glared at him, realization hit me like a slap in the face. He looked ashamed. He apologized. I sat in a Ministry holding cell. I was caught weeks after the last Death Eater was sent to Azkaban. I didn't bother to conceal the betrayal shining in my eyes.
"I used to think you were my best friend," I said, "but not anymore, at least."
Goyle had pulled a Karkaroff. He gave names and crimes to the Ministry in exchange for his own freedom. Even Potter hadn't managed to keep me from Azkaban, it seemed. I sighed once again.
He turned his head back in my direction, but he didn't look at me. His brown eyes were staring at my cell. A mix of sadness, pity and — surprisingly — resolution covered his face. I had never seen much of any of those emotions on his face at our time at Hogwarts. "I'm sorry, Draco," his gruff voice paused before continuing a moment after, "It was either you or me."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! Written for The Houses Competition