Her Eyes
By Ginia Malfoy
I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, J.K. Rowling does.
Draco's version of "His Eyes" I've been meaning to do it for a long time, but just found the energy. Can be read in any order, but I would personally recommend reading "His Eyes" first. If you didn't like "His Eyes", then read no further, you have been forewarned. I am also pretty sure this is a bit too sappy.
She lifts herself off of the cold stone floor, refusing to stay where he's put her. The blow was so heavy I'm surprised she's even able to stand, much less conceal the pain she must obviously be in, but she was always one to surprise me. I know why she's standing. She doesn't want him to think he's broken her. She wants him to know that no matter what he does, she'll die strong. She at least has the power to deny him this.
She tears her defiant glare away from him and looks to the rest of us encircling her. I can see her flashing eyes even from where I'm standing. She doesn't look around; she already knows we've surrounded her… She already knows that she's going to die. I can guess her thoughts at this moment. She's thinking of her family. I wonder what my family would think if I were in this situation. I nearly laugh aloud at the thought, though it would have been cold and mirthless.
MY family? My family wouldn't care a galleon for my life. Hell, I have a good chance of being dispatched by my very own wonderful father. My own wonderful father, who felt the need to murder my mother when I was seventeen, just so he could take a new, younger wife. Bastard. My mother was the last thing keeping me sane in this world.
The Dark Lord strikes the young woman to the ground again, her red hair flashed in the dim light of the dungeon; a flash of color in a sea of gray and black. I can see that she was surprised this time…it takes her a minute to regain herself. I know he's about to deliver the fatal curse. I find it harder to watch than I expected.
But no…he's turned…he's beckoning me forward and I know why. He wants me to perform the task. The one task I'd give anything not to perform. I approach the figure on the dungeon floor. I can't help but watch her eyes, watch the realization flood them. She recognizes me. Even with my mask and hood, she knows that I, her former lover, will be the one to kill her. She should know she will get no mercy from me.
I had loved her once. Loved her more deeply than I could have thought possible of myself. She walked away from me. I had confessed my love and devotion and she had walked away with my heart. Even to this moment I have had no other love. It wasn't long after her rejection that my mother died. After losing them both I had nothing else to live for. I joined the dark side.
Her family gained power and wealth. She had done many great things for the light cause. Though it is surprising that she hasn't married the righteous Potter or someone the like, I am sure that I am not looking at the same young woman I once loved.
Her deep brown eyes are bright with unshed tears. I hear my master jeer at her signs of emotion, and her eyes flash dangerously at him, as if challenging him to mock her again. She looks back to me and I see pain, anger and hatred. Did I expect anything less? Why should she look any differently at her executioner? My eyes match her own.
I square up to her as she stands and faces me proudly, pushing that startling red hair from her face. I am going to be strong. I will perform my task and care naught when it is finished. I look at her and her defiant stance and then make the mistake of being trapped in her gaze. Her eyes are so sorrowful. I can only imagine that she is sorry for herself and nothing more. I want her to stop looking at me with her mournful brown eyes that are somehow so unnerving.
I raise my wand; when I'm finished her eyes will be wide open with surprise instead of cutting into me. She closes her eyes in fear, removing her woeful stare, but tears them open again immediately. I know she is terrified and something finally penetrates my stony façade; pity. I stare at her, smoldering silver connected to dark brown.
I am filled with pity and sorrow for her; pity that things have to be this way, pity that I joined the dark side, pity that I didn't fight harder for her so many years ago. I hope the Dark Lord does not see, but I dare not tear my eyes from Ginny's. I lower the wand and pull off my hood and mask. I can see her even more clearly now, her beautiful hair and perfect skin…rosy lips I've longed to kiss. I can do nothing but stare at her, transfixed by her beauty. Voldemort and the surrounding death eaters are staring at us as well, confused and bewildered. I step towards her and watch love flood into her eyes.
I stand inches away from her, wondering fleeting if she really does love me, or if she's trying to use my weakness against me. I can tell that she is genuine before she ever whispers the words I've been wishing to hear her say for longer than I can remember. Nothing else will do, I reach out and hold her tightly to me, wishing that there would never be a time when I'd have to release her. She embraces me back and I marvel at the feeling of having her in my arms. I find my lips upon hers and pour all of my love, passion, and soul into the endeavor. I have the love of my life in my arms.
The realization suddenly torrents over me and I feel anger and pain constrict my entire being. How long is she going to be the love of my life? After this display, I can only imagine that my life will be as short as hers is now. As if on cue, I hear my master coldly demanding an explanation. I look back into her eyes and can tell that she has figured out the desperation of the situation as well. I cannot help her. At least, I cannot help her in the way that will ensure that she survives this day. There is only one thing that I can do for her…help her to die peacefully. She knows the alternative, and nods in resigned assent. I smile at her, weakly, sadly even, but trying to reassure her that everything will be okay.
A tear has fallen onto her cheek and I gently wipe it away. I am barely able to hold back my own tears, but I cannot bear to see her cry. I hug her for the last time, trying to commit to memory the feeling of her body pressed against mine. She gazes at me with trust filled eyes as I resign myself to the terrible task I am about to perform. I am barely aware of my lips parting. The curse is barely audible even to my own ears, anything more than the softest whisper would make it all too real.
She collapses into my arms. Dead. Murdered. I killed my one true love, a reality I have to live with… though not for long. I cradle her lifeless body as long as possible, gently laying her on the ground. Flaming locks have fallen into her face and I brush them away to reveal pale skin. The tears I have been holding back now stream from my eyes; I have no reason to keep them at bay any longer.
I hear the Dark Lord approach from behind, but am taken by surprise when he claps me hard on the back. The colossal bastard thinks that it was all an act I was putting on to play with the emotions of a distraught young woman; that I was being cruel in my own way. It is not really so surprising after all, Lucius is my father. I hear the deatheaters around me begin to laugh as well.
As rage and hatred course through me, I take one last look at my lover before hurling the killing curse at my master. I know it won't kill him, but perhaps someone will be able to before he regains power again. I at least have done my part. I fire another curse, hitting a deatheater standing nearby. I pause long enough to see the cold, surprised expression on my dead father's face as his mask flies off. I fire more curses, hit more deatheaters, but I know that they will take me down soon. I don't care.
Pain at last floods my body as curses hit me from all sides. My last fleeting thoughts are of the love that I will soon be joining. I am looking down on the scene from near the ceiling. The deatheaters are in disarray, tending to the bodies; the product of my handiwork. I smile at the sight and then catch sight of the two of us in the middle of the floor. My body is draped over hers protectively, almost lovingly. My smile fades.
I tear my eyes from the sight and see my lover staring down at the nightmare as well, tears streaming down her face. I wish she hadn't seen my death. I wrap my arms around her from behind, unable to wait any longer to feel her in my embrace. She turns quickly to face me, startled. I wipe away her tears and smile. Her eyes tell me that she is reassured and relieved, though I cannot hope that she will ever forgive me for all that has happened.
She gives me a beautiful smile and brings her lips to mine in a kiss that leaves me breathless. I raise my eyes to the sky and she nods in assent, still smiling. We rise through the ceiling and out into the world, continuing upwards with no cares save each other. I never break my gaze of her beautiful brown eyes gazing lovingly at me. We nearly lost the chance for love in life, but have eternity to redeem it.
