"What happens to me now?" I ask fully aware I have no say in the matter. Not after the things I've done.
Draco's POV
I sit in a small cell, unsure of its location. After voldemort's defeat, I refused to follow my mother away from the battleground. The grief and mourning in the air, it hung heavy in everyone and I sat down and watched on. As people were tended to for their wounds and families went home to heal both physically and mentally, I wandered Hogwarts.
I ended up in the astronomy tower, the stupid tower that was were Dumbledore died, and he did it because and in spite of me. From the view I see the Weasle and Mudblood accompany Potter on the bridge. Suddenly Potter looks towards the tower, I move before he has a chance to see me and fall against the wall and rest my head in my hands. Everything is such a mess.
But of course the boy who lived, twice it would seem, had seen me. And of course he felt the need to approach me. When he did, it was a scary reenactment of the bathroom incident what now feels like a lifetime ago. Except this time neither one of us threw a spell.
Harry's POV
I hold my wand lowered but firm in my palm. I know of his hesitancy to approach Voldemort when he called upon him, his reluctance. But I also know he did step forward, and his loyalty and mental stability has yet to be determined. And with so much of the wizarding world a mess at the moment, it seems yet again the responsibility falls on me.
"Malfoy." I say as I approach. Instantly he is standing, his wand at the ready to defend. A large juxtaposition from the small crying form i just witnessed on the floor a short second ago. His fear and pain is still visible in his trembling even though I can tell he is trying to seem calm and confident, his persona has long been broken.
"What do you want Potter?" he asks weak breakings of his voice echoing in the half demolished tower.
"Draco," I respond trying to really be calm and in a way comforting. I feel pity for him right now, but how? Why? Why do I feel bad for Draco Malfoy? For years not only has he been a bully, and arrogant pratt to my friends and I, but he also aided Voldemort. He brought the death eaters into Hogwarts and was told to kill Dumbledore. But he didn't. I remind myself, I was there, I watched as he started to lower his wand. I know the truth more than anybody.
"Draco, give me the wand." I tell him approaching him and he lowers it in defeat. I snatched the wand from his limp hand and watch as he again returns to the ground to cry. What comes next won't be easy, whatever that is.
Draco's POV
I release the wand from my hand, it never was any good to me anyway. Never felt connected like I know a wand should be to its master. Harry Potter took that away from me what feels like a lifetime ago. But in a sense, my life as I knew has ended since then-and what lies ahead is brand new.
I cry like a bloody child, not caring about the fact that potter is watching, probably judging me. I don't care, I can't care right now. There is just so much feeling inside of me. A feeling of weakness, regret, and self hatred.
I maintain my limp state for quite a while, and hardly noticed when the Mudblood appeared looking for Harry. Their conversation mumbles to my broken ears.
"Malfoy, come on. Stand up." Potter speaks directly to me breaking my trance. I see the wands pointed at me, and as we get closer I know where we are going.
The dungeons.
I don't put up a fight, I simply sit amongst the rumble, resigned to my fate whatever it may be. Perhaps later I'll have more energy to worry about it. But at the moment I'm numb to everything but the feeling of my blood growing cold inside me.
As cold as my heart.