I own nothing apart from the plot the rest is J K Rowling thank you read and review
It was a dark, cold night in muggle London, the coldest they have witnessed in decades. The wind blew sharply down the many streets and alleyways around. A lone street lamp flickered rapidly trying to fend itself from the impeding darkness closing in around it. With a last fight it dims and is extinguished, succumbing to the temptation. The street was now almost in complete darkness, apart from the old, dull shop that stood proud on the corner, with many twinkling lights reminding everyone that Christmas was almost upon them. The trees shuddered as the wind played forcefully with them. Their naked forms stood erect and menacing as their branches splayed in every direction like bony arms.
It was the dead of the night, no mans time some people liked to call it because no one dared to venture out at such a time. The darkness clung to you at this hour. Its sickly scent filled your nostrils. It frosted your eyelashes and coated your tongue. It made all the happiness flee your body; it made you shake with fear.
But darkness is a coward; it hides in the shadows while daylight reins. When it finally gets it hold and cloaks the world with it impenetrable blanket all that is needed is the tiniest light, the littlest spark which loosens darks strong hold on earth, it flees from the light, it fears something so pure, so good that It recoils in horror as soon as the light touches it.
That's what Draco Malfoy needed at this moment. He needed the tiniest of lights, the tiniest bit of hope to get him out of his darkness, to make it flee and bring him into the light.
He let his blood drip carelessly onto his fingers. He rubbed it tenderly between his finger and thumb. He then placed his hand palm down onto the ground and felt a cold, wet liquid. He lifted his hand in front of his already blurry eyes and only noticed then how much blood he had lost. His whole hand was covered in the red liquid, which was now running down his arm. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, feeling the path the blood was taking. He didn't realise how much blood a thigh injury could produce. He coughed as some blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and travelled lovingly down his bruised cheek and dripped onto the floor.
A mere 20 years of life and he was giving up already. A large pool of blood now surrounded his body. He felt his body starting to go cold and his heart strain and scream with the lack of blood going through it. He once again breathed heavily and turned his head to the side and spat out some blood that was blocking his already weakening airways. He closed his eyes and felt the world around him. For the first time he felt the cold from the ground gradually seep into his body to help aid his death. He felt the strong breeze whipping up the alley he was in. He felt it caress his body as thought lifting him up. It seemed to heighten his senses. He felt the darkness start to creep upon him. He had always fought the darkness. He laughed, it was a choked out laugh, but a laugh all the same. He had been fighting the darkness for so long, keeping it at bay. But it looked like it always was going to win and now he was succumbing to it. Finally the darkness was going to have what it wanted, it had waited for so long patiently but now it was getting its reward.
He felt his eyes begin to roll. His mind was groggy, dark thoughts started to grow and take over. All the things that he had done to make his father proud started to flash in front of his eyes. Things that didn't made him proud. It was as though the darkness was taunting him showing him what he really was. He was a monster.
Just as he was going to give up a light flashed brightly into his mind making his eyes open in shock. He could see he was staring straight into someone's eyes. They weren't the cold, evil eyes of his father. They were kind, gentle eyes. They seem to be pleading with him not to give up. This gave him strength and renewed hope. The darkness was fading from his mind. He just concentrated on their eyes. He watched them intently. They were in deep concentration fixing his wounds, working quickly and effectively.
She was his light. She saved him not only physically that night. But mentally, darkness would have to wait a lot longer to get Draco Malfoy in its grasp because Draco Malfoy had moved to the light.
