FORGIVEN
Lady Draco
Dayna_scully@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy or Lord Voldemort. They belong to J.K Rowling.
RATING: R (one swear word)
SUMMARY: Draco angst story; Draco's POV.
NOTES: I wrote this in five minutes or something, so it probably sucks. But please give me feedback. I'm not used to doing POV stories so a little feedback would be good. Cheers. (dayna_scully@Hotmail.com)
I watched them do it.
I watched them beat him.
I watched them spit on him.
I watched them slice his arm, the blood pouring out onto his robes.
//No!// I screamed at them but they carried on, not hearing me. //Stop it. PLEASE// I begged. I felt a hand grip the neck of my robes, pulling me backwards against a bent knee.
//You shut your mouth, Draco//
His hand snaked around my neck, tightening. Strangling me. My own father, killing me this way. //I ought to die. Look what I've done.// I thought to myself, watching the boy in front of me shrivel into a ball as the beatings took place. I tried to stand. Tried to help him. But I couldn't. Not with my father's hand around my neck.
A strange mist came over the ridge towards us. A voice echoed in my mind. //Thank you, young Malfoy for bringing me my present.// I froze, hearing Lord Voldemort's voice for the first time. //No need to be frightened. Just hold your arm out. Join us.//
I wanted to shake my head and scream no. But I couldn't. My arm rose automatically in front of me. I closed my eyes, begging for it to be a dream. I knew it wasn't when I felt the cold, wispy finger on my arm. A slight burning sensation began in my arm and then it grew to an excruciating pain. I screamed and swore. //Mother FUCKER'S! NO!//
My father struck me on the back of my head, knocking me down. I opened my eyes slowly, not really seeing anything. I heard a small voice coming from somewhere behind me. Painfully, I rolled over.
I was looking into the eyes of my enemy, my rival. His green eyes were dull and almost lifeless. His face was bruised and pale. I looked into his eyes, feeling a lump rise into my throat. //Why! Why didn't I fight back?// I thought to myself. I felt a hand on arm and watched as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, built up as much strength as he could move towards me. And with tears running down his cheeks he whispered to me, something only I could hear.
//I forgive you.//
And with a small smile, he was gone.
Lady Draco
Dayna_scully@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy or Lord Voldemort. They belong to J.K Rowling.
RATING: R (one swear word)
SUMMARY: Draco angst story; Draco's POV.
NOTES: I wrote this in five minutes or something, so it probably sucks. But please give me feedback. I'm not used to doing POV stories so a little feedback would be good. Cheers. (dayna_scully@Hotmail.com)
I watched them do it.
I watched them beat him.
I watched them spit on him.
I watched them slice his arm, the blood pouring out onto his robes.
//No!// I screamed at them but they carried on, not hearing me. //Stop it. PLEASE// I begged. I felt a hand grip the neck of my robes, pulling me backwards against a bent knee.
//You shut your mouth, Draco//
His hand snaked around my neck, tightening. Strangling me. My own father, killing me this way. //I ought to die. Look what I've done.// I thought to myself, watching the boy in front of me shrivel into a ball as the beatings took place. I tried to stand. Tried to help him. But I couldn't. Not with my father's hand around my neck.
A strange mist came over the ridge towards us. A voice echoed in my mind. //Thank you, young Malfoy for bringing me my present.// I froze, hearing Lord Voldemort's voice for the first time. //No need to be frightened. Just hold your arm out. Join us.//
I wanted to shake my head and scream no. But I couldn't. My arm rose automatically in front of me. I closed my eyes, begging for it to be a dream. I knew it wasn't when I felt the cold, wispy finger on my arm. A slight burning sensation began in my arm and then it grew to an excruciating pain. I screamed and swore. //Mother FUCKER'S! NO!//
My father struck me on the back of my head, knocking me down. I opened my eyes slowly, not really seeing anything. I heard a small voice coming from somewhere behind me. Painfully, I rolled over.
I was looking into the eyes of my enemy, my rival. His green eyes were dull and almost lifeless. His face was bruised and pale. I looked into his eyes, feeling a lump rise into my throat. //Why! Why didn't I fight back?// I thought to myself. I felt a hand on arm and watched as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, built up as much strength as he could move towards me. And with tears running down his cheeks he whispered to me, something only I could hear.
//I forgive you.//
And with a small smile, he was gone.
