Author's Note: I had meant this to be a one-shot fic, however I changed my mind and decided to write a follow-up piece. This is the last installment, I promise. Really, I do.
Warning: None this time, per se. There's two or three references to the last chapter, but other than that there's nothing slash-wise.
Disclaimer: Everything is still owned by J.K. Rowling, though Fall's semi-insanity admittedly belongs to me.
The cries of the insane are all around me. They accompany me through my day and carry me through the night. They come from the followers my Lord has lost to a force as irreversible as death, madness.
I am their keeper.
I am a servant in the Dark Lord's service, and the only one willing to accept this task. I thought it was because I am a great people person, but Lucius informed me it was because I was just as crazy as they were.
Lucius is dead now.
I'd beg to differ if given half the chance. For you see, some days I see him staring back at me through the window of a padded cell.
"Fall," its occupant calls. "The time has come to release me. I feel our master command it."
I shuffle closer. "Why do you call me Fall?"
"Because you care for those who have fallen."
"Have you fallen?"
"No," comes the reply.
But he has.
The night following his Lucius-day, I can hear his screams halfway across the ward. He's dangerous when he's in this state and if I open the door his raw emotion alone shatters mirrors everywhere in the castle.
He screams for twenty-four hours straight then collapses in a heap, utterly spent and exhausted.
I like these times best, for I can play mother to him. I'll bet he didn't have much motherly love.
So I tuck him gently into his bed and spoonfeed him Strengthening Draughts. I brush his hair and wash his face all the while receiving no response from him but I am not worried.
It's been the same routine for five years.
And for three days he's my compliant child. I sit with him and tell him how our Master has finally gained full control of the wizarding world and how he's begun to overtake the Muggle one. I whisper that he should see how the darkness is spreading and his eyes fly open in fear.
If you listened to the world outside these four walls it would tell you that his eyes are gray. But in here they are not. They startle me but they are, beyond a doubt, ice blue. I see a hatred in them and I flee the room.
He's quite clearly insane during the next two days. He spins around in rapid circles, talks to the shadows, and sings nonsense at the top of his lungs. Incidently, I enjoy his songs and remove the silencing charm on his cell. They are mostly about fire, and I've yet to figure out why.
Sometimes, he stands at the door and says his name for me over and over again in different tones of voice. If I answer him he giggles and runs for the corner. This always makes me laugh.
One time, I was horrified to find that in a fit of rage he had tried to tear away the Dark Mark. The blood had spilled and splashed and there he stood in the centre of it all, crying and whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I cleaned it up and mended his arm, not sure if he was talking to me or someone else.
But wouldn't you know it? The Dark Mark just came back.
It's odd that my Lord won't let him be. He's no use to him anymore, though he had once been the most respected Death Eater. Not bad for a boy of seventeen. I wonder if my Lord is angry at him, as he obviously was with the redhead in his chambers.
After this apparent bout of madness, he's Lucius again. We sit and talk until his nightmare hits. The week repeats itself, endlessly it seems.
But I, Fall, love him.
And he, Draco, loves me.