Written for Hogwarts Challenges & Assignments - Term 13, Assignment 4: Flying Lessons, Task #2: Write about witnessing a death.
Warning for canon character death.
Word count: 429
Death in the Drawing Room
In the drawing room of his childhood home, Draco stared up at the body spinning slowly above his head. According to the Dark Lord, this was Muggle Studies professor Charity Burbage, but Draco had never crossed paths with her at Hogwarts. He thought perhaps he might have seen her in the Great Hall at meals, however.
Charity Burbage was a thin, older witch. Her blonde hair was greying, and her forest green robes were shabby and outdated. In fact, Draco thought that she looked rather more like a grandmother than a professor.
As she rotated over the shiny mahogany table, she sobbed and pleaded for her life, but all who were present ignored her cries. Even Professor Snape, her own colleague, refused to acknowledge her.
At some point, Draco accidentally made eye contact with the suspended witch, something that he had been hoping to avoid.
"Please," she mouthed to him, perhaps thinking that he would take pity on her where Snape had not. "Help me!"
Draco jerked his head away. The Dark Lord would see to it that she paid for her transgressions. There was no saving her now.
Sure enough, the Dark Lord performed the Killing Curse shortly thereafter. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of his chair as green light flooded the room. There was a loud crash as the witch's body hit the table, and Draco flinched so badly that he ended up on the floor.
Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, only to be greeted by the sight of the dead woman almost immediately. She was so small, so frail, and her mouth was open in a silent scream that no one would ever hear.
The Dark Lord gave permission for his snake to eat the body, but Draco was barely listening by that point. Stomach churning, he stumbled to his feet and fled the room. He collapsed onto the cold tile floor of one of the ornate bathrooms and retched.
"Pull yourself together, Draco," he told himself, shivering slightly. He dreaded what might happen if his father found him in such a state, so he quickly stood and rinsed his mouth. Afterwards, he stared at his gaunt face in the mirror for a few minutes, wondering what had become of himself.
"Draco?"
His mother was calling for him. Draco straightened his spine and exited the bathroom in time to meet her just outside the door.
"There you are, Draco," Narcissa said. "Come now, we must return to the drawing room."
Draco nodded, schooling his features into an emotionless mask. "Of course."