I slumped down onto the stone floor, head in hands, sobbing quietly. I
hadn't known pain until this. I thought that cutting myself hurt, but this,
this was much worse. I felt as if my senses had been numbed, I couldn't
talk, couldn't smell, taste, see anything except for Harry's body in front
of me. I stared at his unblinking eyes and fragile form for well over five
minutes, the tears sliding down my face, dripping down my chin, and I
remembered. I remembered the long talks Harry and I had had. How we had
discussed our lives after Hogwarts, how we would travel the world together,
be free of all responsibilities. No parents or relatives to try to control
our lives. We'd be safe. Happy. Free.
Looking up from Harry's body, I met the gaze of Lucius. He too, was staring at Harry's body, but oddly, smirking. The traditional Malfoy smirk.
"Oh, Draco..." he shook his head. "You must feel horrible..."
I stared at Lucius; with hatred so deep I could feel it burning me. My face grew hot and I gripped my hands together, making fists as if to attack him. "You don't know or give a shite about how I feel." I replied through clenched teeth. I wanted, like Harry had asked me to, to hurt Lucius. It had been his last request to me. I'd never talk to him again.
Lucius gazed at me with his silvery eyes. "Oh, Draco. You did kill him, you know that?" He smiled thinly, and at my feeble motion to get up, pushed me back down on the cold floor.
"Sit, Draco, and I will tell you why."
I sat, as ordered, feeble, feeling what my father had always taught me never to feel: fear. I took Harrys hand, and even though it was cold, bruised, it give me a little comfort to touch someone who I had loved and who had loved me back.
"Draco." Lucius paced in front of me, as if trying to think of what to say.
"Draco.we never really meant to kill you. Hurt you, yes, at the request of Lord Voldemort, but never kill you. We knew about your relationship with Harry, as you know from my letters. You might be wondering why I didn't do anything about it, why I didn't come to your school and take you out, send you off to Durmstrang, try and make you date Pansy again, so our blood like could continue. No, I resisted. Because I knew. I knew that you and Harry would fall in love, and that he would do anything to save you if you were harmed."
"It was so easy to get him to come to our meeting place. We took you, and carefully placed a note on Harry's bed, one of yours that I had sent you, reminding you to catch the train or else I would come for you. Harry knew that you weren't going to take it, and so, obviously, he came here. It was quite easy to kill him - Lord Voldemort had that pleasure, I'm afraid.a quick duel, a curse - and that was that. The-Boy-Who-Lived had been defeated."
A snicker came from the group of figures standing still by the doorway, and a person stepped forward, drawing back their hood as they came closer and closer to me.
It was Goyle's father, his doughy, pale face making him look exactly like his son.
"Yes, Draco, my son told me all about it. How you tossed about at night, whispering Harrys name."
He continued talking, but I ceased listening. I had had dreams about Harry most every night, usually ones were he was murdered by Voldemort. They had seemed so real. How I wished they were not true.
"..He told me, Draco, that you snuck out of the Common Room most every night, not saying a word. You had no friends in your House, and you and Potter openly cavorted on school grounds." His eyes narrowed. "How could you be so ignorant?"
I stared back at him, my face blank, an empty canvas that revealed nothing. "How?" I whispered. "How do you think!? You think I was going to hide it from everyone? Did you think I was going to hurt Harry? No! I wasn't!" I glanced at Lucius as I said the next words. "Harry loved me, and that's a lot more than any of you can say about anyone. No one has ever loved you, no one ever will, for you're disgusting, murderous pigs, you deserve to die, you deserve the same deaths as your victims, your 'Lord' and master is controlling you - and that's OK? You follow him like servants, bending to his every need, but didn't you teach your children that no, they were better than everyone else; they didn't have to answer to anyone!? You kill for pleasure, for fun, really, trying to purge the world of people different from you. You're fucking disgusting. You don't give a shite about anyone, and no one gives a shite about you."
My defiant gaze seemed to please Lucius, and, as always, he gave a cold laugh. "Draco - you'll never learn, will you? Never, in all my years raising you -"
I cut him off. "Raising me! Oh, yeah, you really raised me. Beating me when I got a bad mark, raping me if I defied you, locking me in the dungeon for my summer holidays - and killing my mother! Yes, you're a great father." I sneered sarcastically. I sounded childish, I knew, but my words and anger were all I had left.
Lucius grabbed my hand, roughly pulling me up, my hand slipping out of Harrys. Grasping my chin, his face so close to mine I could see my reflection in his eyes, he spoke.
"Now, if I may finish. Draco, you never learned the one important thing that I had tried to teach you - never give in to your feelings. Never let them show. It makes you weak. You must be cruel. You were better than everyone - and I say 'were' Draco, because you have failed me. You have flouted my rules, the laws of the wizarding world, and now, Draco, now you will pay for it. I will give you something worse than death."
He thrust me backwards, and I staggered, running into the steel bars of a long-forgotten prison cell. I stood there, knees weak, but standing. I saw Goyle hood himself once more, and with the rest of the Death Eaters, save my father, he exited the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him.
"Draco," my father continued, obscuring his features once more with the heavy hood. "I am going to leave you now. I'm leaving you with Harry. I am leaving you here until you, too, die. I am leaving you to look upon Harry's face, to imagine what you could have done to save him. How, if only you had obeyed me, you could have spared his life."
It was silent for a moment while I took in all Lucius had said. He was leaving me here, to die, to starve to death. How I had ever loved him was a mystery to me.
"Goodbye, Draco." He said, and then he turned his back to me, reached the door, and slammed it shut, locking it so I couldn't escape, even if I wanted to.
I stared at the wall, stared at the place that he had stood. He had said I killed Harry. That it was my entire fault. I deserved to die.
Dropping down, I sat by Harry, and, caressing his face, I re-lived every moment that we had spent together. From we had first met, to him kissing me, the hallway, the school dungeons, the midnight Quidditch matches in below freezing weather and a warm embrace afterwards. Our gifts that we had exchanged for Christmas - a little early, but we hadn't known when we would see each other again. I had given him my pocketknife, a depressing gift, I know, but it did have meaning. I had stopped cutting, it was something I didn't need to do now, for I was happy in the time I knew Harry. There wasn't one time when I was sad that Harry didn't comfort me. With him, I had no reason to die.
A tear, then two, made their way down my grimy face. I did now.
Wiping my eyes, I cleared my vision and began to look through Harrys pockets. There were tonnes of things to find, some of them made me smile, and each one reminded me of something we had done together. A stamp was when he had tried to teach me about Muggle postage. A lot of good that had done. A handful of wrapped toffee was a remainder from our Hogsmeade trip earlier that month. A piece of parchment brought back memories of sending notes in class, carefully avoiding each other and Snapes eyes.
Finally I found it. Flipping open each compartment, I admired the way the blade was so clean. When I had owned it, it was usually dull, a bit of dried blood on the edge that needed to be cleared away.
Pressing it to the scars on my wrist, I studied Harrys face one last time.
"It all started innocently enough, didn't it, Harry?"
I smiled, sadly.
"What we had together, I've never regretted."
-The End-
Looking up from Harry's body, I met the gaze of Lucius. He too, was staring at Harry's body, but oddly, smirking. The traditional Malfoy smirk.
"Oh, Draco..." he shook his head. "You must feel horrible..."
I stared at Lucius; with hatred so deep I could feel it burning me. My face grew hot and I gripped my hands together, making fists as if to attack him. "You don't know or give a shite about how I feel." I replied through clenched teeth. I wanted, like Harry had asked me to, to hurt Lucius. It had been his last request to me. I'd never talk to him again.
Lucius gazed at me with his silvery eyes. "Oh, Draco. You did kill him, you know that?" He smiled thinly, and at my feeble motion to get up, pushed me back down on the cold floor.
"Sit, Draco, and I will tell you why."
I sat, as ordered, feeble, feeling what my father had always taught me never to feel: fear. I took Harrys hand, and even though it was cold, bruised, it give me a little comfort to touch someone who I had loved and who had loved me back.
"Draco." Lucius paced in front of me, as if trying to think of what to say.
"Draco.we never really meant to kill you. Hurt you, yes, at the request of Lord Voldemort, but never kill you. We knew about your relationship with Harry, as you know from my letters. You might be wondering why I didn't do anything about it, why I didn't come to your school and take you out, send you off to Durmstrang, try and make you date Pansy again, so our blood like could continue. No, I resisted. Because I knew. I knew that you and Harry would fall in love, and that he would do anything to save you if you were harmed."
"It was so easy to get him to come to our meeting place. We took you, and carefully placed a note on Harry's bed, one of yours that I had sent you, reminding you to catch the train or else I would come for you. Harry knew that you weren't going to take it, and so, obviously, he came here. It was quite easy to kill him - Lord Voldemort had that pleasure, I'm afraid.a quick duel, a curse - and that was that. The-Boy-Who-Lived had been defeated."
A snicker came from the group of figures standing still by the doorway, and a person stepped forward, drawing back their hood as they came closer and closer to me.
It was Goyle's father, his doughy, pale face making him look exactly like his son.
"Yes, Draco, my son told me all about it. How you tossed about at night, whispering Harrys name."
He continued talking, but I ceased listening. I had had dreams about Harry most every night, usually ones were he was murdered by Voldemort. They had seemed so real. How I wished they were not true.
"..He told me, Draco, that you snuck out of the Common Room most every night, not saying a word. You had no friends in your House, and you and Potter openly cavorted on school grounds." His eyes narrowed. "How could you be so ignorant?"
I stared back at him, my face blank, an empty canvas that revealed nothing. "How?" I whispered. "How do you think!? You think I was going to hide it from everyone? Did you think I was going to hurt Harry? No! I wasn't!" I glanced at Lucius as I said the next words. "Harry loved me, and that's a lot more than any of you can say about anyone. No one has ever loved you, no one ever will, for you're disgusting, murderous pigs, you deserve to die, you deserve the same deaths as your victims, your 'Lord' and master is controlling you - and that's OK? You follow him like servants, bending to his every need, but didn't you teach your children that no, they were better than everyone else; they didn't have to answer to anyone!? You kill for pleasure, for fun, really, trying to purge the world of people different from you. You're fucking disgusting. You don't give a shite about anyone, and no one gives a shite about you."
My defiant gaze seemed to please Lucius, and, as always, he gave a cold laugh. "Draco - you'll never learn, will you? Never, in all my years raising you -"
I cut him off. "Raising me! Oh, yeah, you really raised me. Beating me when I got a bad mark, raping me if I defied you, locking me in the dungeon for my summer holidays - and killing my mother! Yes, you're a great father." I sneered sarcastically. I sounded childish, I knew, but my words and anger were all I had left.
Lucius grabbed my hand, roughly pulling me up, my hand slipping out of Harrys. Grasping my chin, his face so close to mine I could see my reflection in his eyes, he spoke.
"Now, if I may finish. Draco, you never learned the one important thing that I had tried to teach you - never give in to your feelings. Never let them show. It makes you weak. You must be cruel. You were better than everyone - and I say 'were' Draco, because you have failed me. You have flouted my rules, the laws of the wizarding world, and now, Draco, now you will pay for it. I will give you something worse than death."
He thrust me backwards, and I staggered, running into the steel bars of a long-forgotten prison cell. I stood there, knees weak, but standing. I saw Goyle hood himself once more, and with the rest of the Death Eaters, save my father, he exited the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him.
"Draco," my father continued, obscuring his features once more with the heavy hood. "I am going to leave you now. I'm leaving you with Harry. I am leaving you here until you, too, die. I am leaving you to look upon Harry's face, to imagine what you could have done to save him. How, if only you had obeyed me, you could have spared his life."
It was silent for a moment while I took in all Lucius had said. He was leaving me here, to die, to starve to death. How I had ever loved him was a mystery to me.
"Goodbye, Draco." He said, and then he turned his back to me, reached the door, and slammed it shut, locking it so I couldn't escape, even if I wanted to.
I stared at the wall, stared at the place that he had stood. He had said I killed Harry. That it was my entire fault. I deserved to die.
Dropping down, I sat by Harry, and, caressing his face, I re-lived every moment that we had spent together. From we had first met, to him kissing me, the hallway, the school dungeons, the midnight Quidditch matches in below freezing weather and a warm embrace afterwards. Our gifts that we had exchanged for Christmas - a little early, but we hadn't known when we would see each other again. I had given him my pocketknife, a depressing gift, I know, but it did have meaning. I had stopped cutting, it was something I didn't need to do now, for I was happy in the time I knew Harry. There wasn't one time when I was sad that Harry didn't comfort me. With him, I had no reason to die.
A tear, then two, made their way down my grimy face. I did now.
Wiping my eyes, I cleared my vision and began to look through Harrys pockets. There were tonnes of things to find, some of them made me smile, and each one reminded me of something we had done together. A stamp was when he had tried to teach me about Muggle postage. A lot of good that had done. A handful of wrapped toffee was a remainder from our Hogsmeade trip earlier that month. A piece of parchment brought back memories of sending notes in class, carefully avoiding each other and Snapes eyes.
Finally I found it. Flipping open each compartment, I admired the way the blade was so clean. When I had owned it, it was usually dull, a bit of dried blood on the edge that needed to be cleared away.
Pressing it to the scars on my wrist, I studied Harrys face one last time.
"It all started innocently enough, didn't it, Harry?"
I smiled, sadly.
"What we had together, I've never regretted."
-The End-