Easter holiday moved in slow motion until the day time seemed to come to a screeching halt. One moment he was in his room, staring at the ceiling, worrying about Amaris being alone at Hogwarts and what Carrow might be doing to her, the next he was summoned to the drawing room where he found the Golden Trio restrained by Snatchers.
Draco stared in shock as he took in Weasley and Granger looking positively petrified while Aunt Bellatrix dragged Potter across the room at wand-point. Panic raced up his spine and took hold of his mind with cold fingers of terror.
"Is it him?" his father asked in an anxious, raspy voice. "Is it Potter?"
His aunt hoisted Potter up and revealed to him why he had been summoned. Potter's face was swollen and deformed, but Draco knew it was him. The room was quiet as he stared, waiting expectantly for him to speak. His aunt smiled at him, nodding, urging him on.
Draco didn't know why he hesitated, or why the words, "I can't be sure," popped out of his mouth, but that's what happened.
"Draco." His father was suddenly behind him, his hand bracing the back of his neck, both a loving and commanding gesture. "Look closely, son," he whispered. "If we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven—all will be as it was. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded, breath coming in quick, fear mounting as his father and a Snatcher barked at one another. What was he doing? Why was he hesitating? Over the summer, he had tortured Rowle on the Dark Lord's order because Rowle failed to catch Potter. If Draco failed to identify him, the same thing would happen to him—or worse. This was his opportunity to save his family, the moment that he could make everything right.
"Don't be shy, sweetie, come over," his aunt said, taking his hand and drawing him closer to Potter. "Now, if this isn't who you think it is, Draco, and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure."
Draco heard the words as if from far away, his gaze locked with Potter's. His eyes were so open, so vulnerable, silently acknowledging how completely at Draco's mercy he was. But he was also issuing a challenge to put every ugly thing between them aside in this one moment and make a different choice. But without Dumbledore, Potter didn't stand a chance at defeating the Dark Lord. There was no point in hoping otherwise…
He had to save his family.
And yet… There's no way we can win if we don't try, Amaris had said to him. Her words echoed in his mind, growing louder with every second. Do you want him to win? Theo had asked him. Draco had known, deep in his soul, the answer was, "No." He didn't want to live in a world ruled by the Dark Lord, by fear and violence. There's no way we can win if we don't try. Draco had grown up believing Purebloods were better than other wizards. He had idealized the Dark Lord and all that he stood for, had longed for the power and prestige of being a Death Eater. He had romanticized something he had not understood, and reality had greeted him like a nightmare. He was living in that nightmare of torture and death while the Dark Lord and his followers smiled with glee. He hated it! He hated him. He wanted to be free of him, of this hell that he and his family were trapped in. There's no way we can win if we don't try.
He had to try. And so Draco said again, "I can't be sure."
Later that evening, every single prisoner in the Manor escaped. When the Dark Lord discovered that they had had Harry Potter and lost him, they each felt the vicious pain of his wrath. As further punishment, they were confined to the Manor, and Draco was not allowed to return to Hogwarts.
That night, he went to bed with the lingering pain of the Cruciatus Curse breaking like a tide against his fear for Amaris, his guilt over his family.
Author's Note: I've tried to avoid writing too much content from the books or movies, as we've all seen those scenes or read those parts. But sometimes it can't be helped! I used the film's script as a reference since I do not have access to the books.
