I had been fighting for the past seven days straight, with only a few scattered hours of sleep here and there, and I felt like I was ready to become one of those people that went into the infirmary. This of course ment I, son of a Death Eater and the former Hogwarts number one candidate for supreme wickedness, was fighting on the side of Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Not that I cared what people thought about that, I was just glad that the old crackpot had let me join, for how could you rule the wizarding world when someone like Voldemort was already in that position? At least I had a chance for a future if Dumbledore won the war. I didn't even mind that fact that he was working with Harry Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. Potter was just another face on the battle field.
On that seventh day I found myself, as usual, in the dining hall at five in the morning, catching a quick breakfast before heading outside to relieve one of the night guards. My job was to basically stop any Death Eaters from getting enough of a strong hold in my area to break through Hogwarts defences. Simple sounding enough, but when you're seventeen, somewhat short for your age and slight of build, it wasn't as easy as all that. I found myself constantly attacked with curses and had to more than once physically fight off one or two fully grown men. I am proud to say that they were defeated, but at a cost, mostly in the form of cuts, bruises and once a broken wrist.
I trudged up the hill as quickly as I could to my post, fighting a string of yawns that threatened to take me over, my eyes weary and blurred. I sighed suddenly, knowing that I should have told someone that I wasn't fit to fight, but I didn't really having the heart to. Neville Longbottom was there along with a group of people that I didn't know when I crested the bluff. All of them looked a little better than myself, but not too much better.
"Take a break Neville." I said shortly, coming forwards, as the pudgy boy looked the most fatigued to my eyes.
Neville nodded. "Right. There hasn't been too much activity this morning, but I saw a group of them just a little ways away, so I think they might have something planned." He gestured to the people huddled in a small circle. "By the way, this is Bryson, Angela, and Zach. Everyone, this is Draco."
The three wizards nodded at me and I nodded once in return. "Thanks."
Once Neville was gone, I sat myself down on the stump the Gryffindor had been sitting on and sighed.
"So... you're Draco Malfoy." Came a sharp voice off to my left.
Turning, I eyed the boy called Zach and replied. "What of it?"
Zach shrugged. "Nothing. I was just wondering what you were doing on this side of the battle when all of your kind are over there." He said, pointing with his thumb in the direction of the Death Eaters camp.
Glaring daggers at the boy, I spoke. "Look you poor excuse for a wizard. I'm not in the mood to be engaging in any sort of jovial banter with you. Why I am here and why I choose to fight for Dumbledore is none of your bloody business. So back off."
The boy looked affronted, and was about to speak when the girl spoke up, her voice soft. "Look guys, it's been a long week and I don't think that anyone here wants to get into a fight over something to trivial when we could be directing all of our energy towards defeating Voldemort."
"Well put." Bryson said.
I nodded, but felt my jaw clenching. After a moment though, I took a breath and asked. "So what exactly do you think they're up to?"
Bryson looked over at him, his brown eyes rimmed red, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Maybe they're planning to join hands and sing us a song? You know, death by horrid vocalists?"
Angela snorted. "Yeah, they're over there right now holding hands and skipping towards us with flowers in their hair and a song in their hearts. As if Bryson."
"You don't know that isn't what they're doing!" Bryson protested. "Just because they're all a bunch of sick fucks that don't know which way is up, around and down, doesn't mean that they can't make wreaths of flowers and hang them around their necks."
"There are a lot of daisies over here you know Angie." Zach spoke up, looking bored as he picked at the dirt under his fingernails.
I held in the laughter at the look of consideration on the girls face, for once in my life amused by other people's meaningless conversations. Then I decided to join in the fun. "If you think that it's daisies that those guys like then you are totally starkers." At this, all three teenagers turned their attention to me. "It's true. They much prefer dandelion's and snapdragons."
There was a pause, then Angie grinned broadly and laughed. "See you guys! He ain't so bad!"
Bryson nodded as he too laughed, though under his breath. "Yeah, he isn't so bad once you get passed that 'I'm the king of the world' shit."
I bristled at that for a moment, but let it slide.
Zach looked at me with an expression that said 'I'm not sure I believe you're a nice guy, but if my friends say you are, I'll go along with it'.
"Was this some sort of test?" I asked, turning my attention away from Zach.
Angie nodded. "Yep. Neville told us that you would either go along with our insane conversations, or you would tell us all to go to hell and stomp off, muttering about how the wizarding world would fall to pieces if people like us ever got into power."
I was impressed. Not only did Neville have the nerve to plan this, but the Gryffindor anticipated my moves down to a tea. I laughed. "You guys are devious enough to be in Slytherin."
Bryson shivered. "No way I'd want to be in that house. Seeing Snape on an irregular basis in Potions is enough, but to see him all the time as Head of House..." He shivered again.
Zach sneered. "I should have been in Slytherin, like my brother, but the damn Sorting Hat decided to put me into Ravenclaw instead."
I frowned. "Who's your brother?"
"Kent Behan."
I shrugged. "Don't know him."
Zach shook his head, brushing the hair away that fell into his eyes. "You wouldn't. He graduated five years ago. He's living in Canada right now studying some sort of new Chimera species."
I tilted my head. "New breed?"
Zach was about to answer but a loud clap of thunder overhead and a scream in the distance cut him off.
I was quicker than the rest to jump to my feet with my wand ready, moving swiftly towards the edge of the bluff that overlooked some of the battlefield. I heard the rest follow suit, each one taking a different sector of our post, each one scanning the area with their eyes for the cause of the scream moments before.
We didn't have to search long.
Staggering towards us was a Hogwarts student, bloodied and limping on one broken leg as he scrambled up the hill. I didn't recognise the person, but signalled with my hand to Zach and Bryson to help him. Without a word they complied and locked arms behind the students back, easing the weight off the broken leg. Angie sent a distress signal up in the sky as I conjured a splint and a roll of bandages.
"We have to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible." Angie said as she knelt beside the boy.
"What happened to you?" I asked him as Angie tied the splint around his leg.
The boy moaned and managed to choke out two words. "...Death Eaters..."
I narrowed my eyes. "How did you get away on a broken leg if the Death Eaters had you?"
Bryson snapped his eyes towards me. "Malfoy, I don't think this is the time to be interrogating the guy."
I crossed my arms defiantly, keeping my wand visible, and stared at Bryson. "Don't you think it's a bit odd that a prisoner of Voldemort's army, that has been beaten to within an inch of his life, would be able to get away from them so easily?"
"Malfoy..." Zach warned, but was cut off by a raspy laugh from below.
"...He's right..."
I looked down just in time to see the boy on the ground suddenly changing, his matted brown hair disappearing, his wide blue eyes shifting into narrow red slits. His frame became longer, his muscles straining under clothes that were too small for his original body, the torn material ripping until it fell away, revealing a hideous white corpse of a man. Lord Voldemort himself.
"Get back!" I screamed as Voldemort lurched to his feet and grabbed me by my arm, his grip iron tight and painful for one who looked like living death.
Angie scrambled back on her heels, her eyes wide with terror, her mouth open in a silent scream. I watched as she tried to get up on her feet to run, watched as she slipped on the muddy ground.
"Avada Kedava." Voldemort breathed, pointing his own wand towards her, catching her in the middle of her back just as she climbed to her feet and turned.
My heart lurched, but I knew I could do nothing to save her. No one escapes the killing curse.
Voldemort held me in his grip still, his attention now focused on Zach and Bryson. I wanted to scream at them for not running, but the hand that had been holding my arm had moved to my throat.
Bryson made to move forwards, but Zach put a hand on his arm quickly.
"Stay where you are or he dies." The Dark Lord hissed, his breath foul, his grip tightening so that my vision started to become disoriented. "So you are smart after all." He hissed again.
I tried to struggle then, raising my hands to Voldemort's arm and attempting to tear the limb away from my throat. The grip only tightened as The Dark Lord lowered his face near my ear.
"I would think that the son of Lucius Malfoy would know better than to try something stupid like that." His breath made me want to heave. "I've been waiting a long time to meet the boy whom Lucius spawned."
"...Why?" I managed to ask.
Voldemort hissed his laughter in my ear as his hand tightened around my throat. "Why? Because you've accomplished what no other child of one of my followers has."
I was getting annoyed. "What?"
"You've been able to keep yourself out of my grasp since the day you were born my dear Draco." Voldemort seethed. "Most cannot say the same. Not even precious Harry Potter."
I frowned. "What the hell do you want from me?"
Again he laughed, sending shivers of disgust down my spine. "You are certainly nothing like your loyal father. He would never dare to question me."
I spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't take orders from anyone. Least of all you, you sorry excuse for a wizard."
It was the wrong thing to say.
Suddenly I found myself being lifted by his one hand as my lungs fought for air. I knew suddenly that Voldemort wasn't going to let me live, even if he did have some morbid facination with me. As my lungs fought for air, my hands clutched at his arm, trying desperatly to pull it away from my throat once more. The Dark Lord only laughed wickedly and tightened his hold, bringing me closer to his repulsive face.
"I will stop if you pledge your life and soul to me." He whispered into my ear, his foul breath rancid with decay, the rain seeming to only make it worse.
Fighting back the urge to throw-up, I turned my head so that I could look him in the eyes. "You know, for an all powerful and oh so fearsome Dark Lord, you smell pretty bad."
When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?
Voldemort's face twisted in anger as he pitched me away from him in one fluid motion. I landed hard on my back, the air knocked out of me. Gasping, I tried to get up on my knees, but a high pitched voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Imobulous!" I couldn't move as I watched the evil grin spread across Voldemort's face, turning his features into something from a child's darkest nightmare. With another breath, he said the one thing that I would have rather died than hear, with such casualness it made me ill. "...Crucio..."
Suddenly every fiber in my body burned as if I were being stabbed repeatedly with thousands of red hot pins, tearing into my skin and devouring me. I had seen my father do this to a man once when I was very young, and at that time I had always thought it was rather funny how he had arched off the floor like he was being pulled by an invisible rope. I had known better than to think that for the past six years, but I had never really given it much thought as to what you actually felt when the unforgiveable curse was set upon you. Now I did.
Then, just as quickly as it came, the pain was gone.
"Now then, young Draco," Voldemort all but purred as he stood over me, his wand aimed at my heart, "will you reconsider my offer? Or will you condemn yourself to death?"
I turned onto my side and retched, listening as the man about me laughed his amusement. "I guess that would be a no then? Hmm?" He asked.
I cast my gaze on him then and spat on the ground near his foot. "Go to hell." I hissed.
For the second time I writhed in pain as the Crucious curse was placed upon me, my hands clawing the earth under me as the rain pelted down. I wasn't sure how long I was under the curse the second time, but when I was free of it's control I felt Voldemort's cold hand close about my throat once more, lifting me off the ground and into the air again. My eyes were shut tightly as my heart pounded in my ears. I prayed for a swift death. Nothing happened.
"Put him down." Came a low voice, a voice that I would have been able to pick out if I were blind. Harry Potter.
I opened my eyes enough to see that he stood not ten feet away from Voldemort, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand, his jaw set in anger. His face was cut and bruised from whatever he had been doing previously, his clothing torn in various places. I was never so happy and relieved to see him.
"And why, pray, should I listen to a whelp like you?" Voldemort hissed in amusement, as if the boy destined to kill him weren't standing there before him.
Harry glared, and I felt a chill as his usual warm green eyes became cold, almost dead. "If you don't, I'll kill you." He said as he raised his wand.
I wasn't sure if it was the lack of oxygen, or the way that Harry looked the part of the hero, but I believed that he could do it. He could kill Voldemort without even a second thought.
"My dear boy," Voldemort replied, his grip tightening once more around my throat, his fingers suddenly burning into my skin, causing me to cry out in pain. "You can't kill me with a wand and a fleeting dream."
Harry took one step forwards. "Put. Him. Down."
Voldemort paused, his grip loosening slightly. "As you wish."
I felt myself flying through the air before I landed with a thud, my head cracking against a hidden rock, dazing me. My hands went to my throat immediately. My eyes widened in horror as my fingers felt the scorched skin there. I tried to use my voice.
"...Harry..."
At the sound of my hoarseness, both Harry and Voldemort looked down at me. Harry with a look of concern on his face, Voldemort with a look of annoyance. Though it was the latter of the two that I feared the most, it was Harry that I kept my eyes on. I watched as the coldness he had kept in his eyes as he looked at Voldemort vanish, their green depths becoming warm once more. I suddenly thought back to all those times when we were growing up when he used to look at me with nothing but animosity, which of course was mutual. I thought back to all those times that we were at each others throats, fighting as though what was going on between us was all that mattered in the world. Suddenly, it all seemed futile. I didn't hate him, and from what I saw in his eyes right now, he didn't hate me.
"You would have him save you right now?" Came Voldemort's cold high pitched voice, cutting through my thoughts.
My eyes didn't leave Harry.
"Look at me while I'm talking to you!"
I couldn't.
I heard Voldemort howl with rage, saw the look of panic cross over Harry's face as he started forwards. It was the last thing that I saw as a searing pain ripped through me.
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Author's Note:
Maw ha ha ha ha HA! How do like that for a cliff-hanger eh?
Bet you think that Draco is dead right? Or is he alive but wounded so bad that he'll be put into an exhibition where people point and stare while small children scream in fright and run away? Well, you'll just have to read more and found out won't you? (rubs hands with an evil grin on her face)
Ta ta for now!
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