A look in the mirror proved to him that he was, indeed, horribly nervous. His skin was paler than usual and clammy at the touch. His hair, even though he had brushed it back, was still hanging down messily in some places. His clothes had been shakily straightened, and his trunk packed for home was a complete mess.
Except he knew that none of his neatness would've mattered anyway.
When it was close to the time he had to go down to the entrance hall, he charmed his trunk to a feather-light weight and started making his way out of the Slytherin common room. He didn't say goodbye to any of his housemates, or spent his time gazing around at the dark room he had spent six school years in. He didn't look up at all, actually. He only concentrated on following his footsteps into the hallway, where Professor Snape would be guiding all of the other students leaving this morning into carriages waiting in front of the castle.
"Mr. Malfoy." The Professor stated coldly as Draco stopped beside him. "Enjoy your holidays, and thank you for showing up to your detentions accordingly."
A thank you? Well, Snape could act amazingly generous on Christmas. Draco nodded, staying silent. Snape stared at him for a bit longer, as if expecting a better response, before giving up and telling him to go outside and wait for a carriage. Draco quietly did.
Ten minutes was spent waiting, and the entire time Draco felt numb. Unfeeling. He couldn't find himself to feel sad about leaving, or afraid about going home. He was blocking himself from these feelings; if he didn't, he knew he'd break down right here and now. He'd be running back through the castle in search of Harry, embracing him and saying that he wanted to stay with him for the remainder of his holidays. For the remainder of his life.
It was the sound of a carriage stopping abruptly before him that brought any sign of movement out of the Slytherin. He glanced up gradually, and levitated his trunk into the seat after opening the door. He climbed in himself, staring out at Hogwarts as the carriage started moving quickly down the trail toward the train platform. He still refused to feel anything, even though he could feel that burning in his eyes return.
Later that evening, he found himself standing in front of Malfoy Manor with trunk in hand. He stared at it for minutes before he actually found the will to step forward. The train ride had been long, and seemed intent on torturing him. It had made him more frightened than ever before, and now he felt as though he'd collapse before he reached the front door.
But he didn't, and he knocked on the door after another five minutes of standing in front of it. His eyes were downcast, his posture a lot less straight, and his spirit just about gone completely. He only looked up when he saw the door open. His mother was standing there.
His mother. He took notice that she looked just as miserable as he did, but she was managing to hold herself better. She was dressed nicely, her hair pulled back, and her lips in the form of a welcoming smile. But her eyes... they were much less lively than normal. They looked dead. "Hello, Mother." Draco greeted resignedly.
"I'm glad to see you again, Draco." She took a step forward and embraced him in a light hug. "How have you been, darling?"
"I've been fine." He replied, expressionless.
"Why don't you come inside?" She asked once she had pulled out of the hug. Draco nodded, silently making his way inside with his trunk. He set it down in the hallway, looking around as if expecting someone. Or something. But his house looked the same as usual. Dank and dark, covered in paintings of ancestors and expensive decorations. Candles lighting the hallways, with long carpets drawn out across the dusty floors. Draco sighed.
"Would you like to sit down and visit over some tea?" His mother asked from beside him. Her voice sounded apprehensive, not knowing what her son might be thinking. Wondering if he was alright. Draco nodded again. Him and his family had always been so formal with eachother. Why would he think that it would change today?
A few minutes later, he made his way into a cozy room with his mother. They sat down in chairs facing the fireplace. Orange and red flames were blazing merrily in the grate. One of their house elves had brought tea and biscuits into the room and set them on the table between them. Gingerly, his mother picked up the warm cup nearest her and sipped lightly.
"Drink darling. You look unwell."
Draco looked at her briefly, unsmiling, and then picked up his own cup of tea. But he didn't get to drinking it; he was too worried to do anything at the moment. He wanted to know why he was here. He wasn't just home to visit, and his mother knew about what was happening at Hogwarts, so why was she prolonging the time to talk about it?
"Why am I here, Mother?" He finally asked.
There were a few seconds of silence, before Narcissa set down her cup and watched her son with sad eyes. "The Nott family has informed me of a new... occurrence." She sighed. "Something about close relations with you and Harry Potter."
Draco moved restlessly in the large chair, managing to keep his gaze locked on his mother.
"And?" He questioned bleakly.
"And, the Nott family has also informed other sources that are now angry about it. Is it really true, Draco?" She looked at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to say that is wasn't. It was one horrible thing for him to fall in love with a male, but an enemy at that?
"Yes, it is." There was no use in lying. He spoke with his voice shaking. He couldn't hide his growing panic. "What other sources?"
"The families that are still closely following beside the Dark Lord, Draco." Her own voice started shaking, and she turned her head to stare at the fire. "Why did you do this?"
"It wasn't a choice, Mother." Draco swallowed, feeling his hands shaking. The tea was starting to swish around within the cup. He took an unsteady sip.
Suddenly, he felt his mother's eyes back on him. He could see tears in her eyes, and he instantly felt his heart drop. "What is it?"
"They're going to kill you, Draco." She covered her mouth with her hands, fighting back a quiet sob. "I received a letter, saying that they couldn't have the son of a very prestigious family following in the footsteps of the one boy who brought the Dark Lord's downfall. They are to arrive tomorrow, and... they didn't say how it was going to be done."
Draco froze. His throat seemed to clench up entirely, and only when he let this sink in, did he take another sip of tea. "They're doing this without even bothering to find out if it's true?"
Narcissa nodded her head softly. "They know it is." She slowly looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Draco, darling, I'm sorry."
He watched her carefully. An odd sort of feeling was starting to build up inside of him. "You didn't do anything, Mother." He spoke softly. He could feel those hot tears threatening to fall.
"No, Draco... I have. I wasn't able to stop this from happening. I love you... I can't let you hurt. This happened so suddenly that I can hardly believe that it's over one little thing such as love..." She sniffed, retrieving a handkerchief from within her jacket pocket. "You won't be seeing them tomorrow."
"What?" Draco glanced anxiously at her.
"I've... I've given you..." He could tell that his mother couldn't handle this conversation anymore, and Draco concluded that it would've been smart to not start it at all. Maybe he should've just waited for this to happen. That way he wouldn't be worrying about tomorrow. They both knew they wouldn't be able to stop the Death Eaters.
"Given me what, Mother?" Draco asked, panicked.
"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry! I couldn't let them put you through any pain. You don't deserve it. You're just a boy!" She stood up, making his way over to him, and bent low over him to bring him into a tight hug. Draco sat there, eyes closed, not knowing what she meant.
"Mother? What are you talking about?" He slowly stood up, so that he could push her gently away. The cup of tea was set back down on the table.
Without answering him, Narcissa went back over to her own chair, resting her head in her hands while trying to calm her quiet sobs. Draco was just about ready to yell at her, if she didn't tell him soon. What was wrong? What was going to happen to him! He wanted to know!
"The tea, Draco." She whispered finally.
When that was spoken, Draco stood there silently. The only sounds were of his mother crying, and the occasional sparks crackling in the fireplace. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair, which had managed to tousle itself. He swallowed heavily again.
"Mother?" Draco bit his lip. "Are you saying...?"
"Yes." She replied loudly, quickly, as if it was costing her life to tell her only son that she had done this to him. Maybe it was. If the Death Eaters found out...
"I didn't..." Draco's voice choked again, and a few tears fell onto the floor. "I didn't mean to..." In the next moment, he had turned around and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He ran clumsily up the staircase, down the darkened hallway, and into his room, where he collapsed on top of his bed. Blurry eyes stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this was really happening.
His own mother had done this to him? Yet, it had to be for his own good, so he wouldn't end up having to go through the Crucio curse... or even worse. Draco forced back frightened tears. No... his mother hadn't poisoned his tea. This was all just a dream. He wasn't going to die. He was going to be fine.
Minutes passed where he waited for something to happen. He remained laying on his bed, thinking, wondering, and not wanting to think at all. Then, bit by bit, he felt himself slipping away from this reality. He felt unworried, light, and unusually comfortable.
No, nothing was actually going to happen. He'd return to school at the end of this week. He'd see Harry and kiss and talk with him like there was no tomorrow. They'd plan his visit to Harry's house during the summer. He'd see Harry's relieved grin when he returned from home unscathed. The letter from his mother had ended up being a misunderstanding.
Yes... Harry and him would have a wonderful life together. Draco would make sure of it.
Smiling to himself, Draco closed his eyes against that drowsy feeling. A few silent minutes passed before his mother came upstairs, knocking lightly on his bedroom door.
Draco lay on his bed, unmoving.
Author's Note: That was the end, my loyal readers. I hope that you enjoyed it. I was very distressed to have done that to Draco, but alas, I thoughtit was fitting for the ending. For those who read the note at the very beginning of this entire story, I hope you remembered that this was written a year ago. I changed none of the chapters since then, and that was the reason my updates were coming so fast; they were already written. And, I also realize that this ending was a very quick and sudden one; I hope that didn't bother any of you. I received complaints about it before. In any case, farewell until the next story.