He had lain here in this cell for so long, that he couldn't even remember the last time he saw her beautiful face. He had expected this: his father's wrath and his imminent death, but he just wished he could see her again, at least for one last time. Last time...
"Oh gods, Ginny..."
As prepared as he thought he was, there were still so many things that he regretted. So many moments what he wished he had cherished more. His face painfully moved into a smirk as the blood drying there flaked off.
"I wish I could have beat Potter at Quidditch one bloody last time..."
Coughs racked his body as he held his chest tightly as the pain pierced through him. Broken ribs...if
they didn't kill him soon, that would. Draco just wished it would be quick. But he knew his father and he would make him suffer for every time he had disobeyed him. And in the last year...that had been quite a bit.
Just a little light showed through the cracks in the ceiling. Not enough to take strength and comfort in, but just enough to see the hellhole where he was trapped. Of course his father wouldn't have put him in a palace. He wanted him to suffer.
Draco shook his head, "He's not my father. He's...he's...just Voldemort's pawn in this game of immortals. One will die in the end and it won't be Harry. Then
he," his lips twisted cruelly, "will die with him. And then I will see him in hell."
Struggling to stand up, his body leaned against the wall as the pain overtook him again. Fighting against tears, he moved into the fleeting moonlight. Something to grasp on, he needed a memory, a happy memory, just
something.
Ginny...they had had such a short time together, but he could truthfully say that it was the happiest of his pitiful existence. Her smile had lit up his days and her laughter was beautiful music, soothing his worries and driving away his fears.
"Oh gods, what will they do to her..."
His father knew. Of course he knew. He knew everything and anything that he wasn't supposed to. He had known when he was five and he had played with the little muggle boy across the fields. Two days later they had been gone, their home destroyed.
Lucius Malfoy's son would not play with a muggle.
The tears fell again.
He normally wasn't this weak.
Hell, what was he saying.
He was going to die. He deserved a few tears.
The door creaked open and a gaunt face looked out at him.
"He wants to see you."
Draco stared stonily at the old man, showing no pain, none of that weakness that was coursing through his veins.
"Not going to dignify me with an answer, are ye?" A cackling laugh bubbled from his mouth as the crouched figure scuttled over and pulled Draco away from the wall, "Follow me, young
Master Malfoy."
The world spun around him as he was forced to move.
Lucius was waiting outside of the tower, he never really did have that much patience when it came to handing out pain, or death, for that matter.
"My son. My weak, pitiful, disgrace of a son...you betrayed me, didn't you? With those...Weasley's," he spat out the word as if it were a vile and rotten candy, "I know you've been with their young daughter. Pity I can't get to her. I would love to see the look on your face as I killed her before you..."
Draco struggled against the arms of his father's servant, "You will not get her, father."
"We will kill them all.
All that fight against Our Lord. Beginning with...you."
"I wish I could be the one to kill you,
Father. I guess I just have to leave that up to Harry."
"And I wish I could be the one to kill you, Son. But I have...other...matters to attend to," Lucius turned and glided away with a swirl of his robes.
He doesn't even have the decency to kill me himself...
It seemed like the night was enclosing him and he didn't even notice when his arm were freed from the enclosing grasp. The moonlight was covered by the clouds as the old man turned away.
Hope flared for one single instant, then was killed with a single breath.
The cackling voice came to him again, "Had to get me wand, mah boy..."
He could see the old man advancing on him with his wand raised. Draco closed his eyes and fell to his knees as immense pain radiated from his chest.
Just get it over with...
Ginny...
He swore he could hear her voice, but he knew it was just an illusion. He was going to die here, in the dark of the home he had grown up in.
Draco...
There it was again. He wished that it would just be over. No more torture, please, no more pain. Draco...
Go away!
Oh god, Draco...darling...please still be alive...
Something wet fell on his face...tears? No...no one is here. He was dead.
Warm arms entangled around his body softly and numerous voices rumbled in his ears.
Harry? Hermione?
"It's over, Draco...we're here.." As Draco opened his eyes, they met the warm chocolate ones of Ginny, "We came. We weren't going to let you die."
Harry peered over Ginny's shoulder and smiled slightly, "You look pretty rough. Almost like after a quidditch game against Gryffindor."
Draco coughed, "No...more like you, Potter. After a game against us."
"Good to see you still have a sense of humor, Malfoy."
"My...my...
him, where did he go?" Draco struggled to sit up and winced as pain arced through his chest again.
Ginny's eyes hardened, "He's dead."
"Dead?"
"Daddy...your..he...tried to kill Daddy. So he fought back. Lucius is dead, Draco."
Letting out a sigh that had seemed to be trapped forever, he finally allowed his eyes to flutter closed, "I wanted to kill him..."