Disclaimer: All credit for characters and world belong to the genius that is J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, plot is mine. :)
His eyes opened suddenly to an enormous expanse of blue and indescribably pain in his left forearm. It seems his disobedience had been noticed. He slowly hauled himself up, his muscles shaking with the effort, the lack of food and his choice of sleeping arrangements.
He was soaked in morning dew and his once white shirt was brown with stained blood. He shivered in revulsion and pulled his wand out to clean it quickly.
He raked the hair back from his eyes as his forearm seared again. Time to go find the monster he supposed. He was terrified.
He walked back in the school and was met by a chilling laugh.
"Ah Mr. Malfoy. Just the person I've been looking for,"Voldemort hissed raising the hair on the back of Draco's neck.
Draco looked up but avoided eye contact.
"Follow me, Draco," and instead of waiting for a reply, he beckoned with his wand. Draco was robbed of his free will of motion as his legs trudged forward on Voldemort's command. Catcalls and jeers echoed in the entryway until they were hushed by a furious command from the Dark Lord.
"Silence or you're next," he commanded and a few of his more cowardly servants slinked away in fear while the others watched, holding their tongues.
Draco unwillingly trudged after Voldemort into the Great Hall his thoughts filled with what Voldemort could possibly want with him. The sight of where he once used to laugh and eat with friends transformed into this post battle scene made his heart pound.
With a chuckle, Voldemort hissed, "I see you like what your Lord has done with the place."
Draco recoiled when he realized Voldemort had invaded his mind and he hadn't even noticed it. Immediately he threw up defenses. If the Dark Lord didn't already know about his visit to Hermione he would find out soon if Draco didn't protect himself.
"I see you are now shutting your Lord out. And successfully I might add." Voldemort hummed in amusement. "Your Lord is impressed and that's the sort of strength needed to rebuild our ranks. Come, Draco," he ordered and dragged him to the front where the teachers sat.
The hall was destroyed; large chucks of masonry had been ripped from the wall, the school banners had been torn down except for the Slytherins', and the school tables had been pushed to line the walls. People were seated at the benches and he recognized the majority as being gloating Death Eaters who were watching the procession toward the front of the hall.
The most horrifying addition the hall was in the center where a pile of bodies lay. His stomach heaved and he forced himself to look away. He didn't want to see the faces of those who had been killed for fear of how many he'd know.
So he unwillingly continued to the front of the hall where Voldemort seated himself in Dumbledore's chair. Snape had rarely filled the seat in the past year and Malfoy had never associated the headmaster position with his godfather. He knew somewhere, maybe instinctually that his godfather had not been his willing stooge.
Malfoy was forced onto his knees on the floor at Voldemort's feet, facing the heap of the dead. His eyes sunk to the floor as he focused on avoiding looking up.
His forearm burned again and he imagined Voldemort was summoning the rest of his followers. Then his voice erupted from him, magically resonating through the castle and grounds as it had last night.
"Come one, come all as I, your Lord deign to deliver justice. Every living person is to be in the Great Hall in five minutes. If you do not come you shall be found and killed swiftly for I know the number of the living. Bring the prisoners."
And then Draco heard the creak of the chair as Voldemort sat back and waited. People trickled into the hall, the Death Eater's marching in proudly, and the survivors attempting to hold themselves with dignity only to be spat at or heckled by the ranks of the Dark Lords followers. Many of the survivors looked up at where Draco kneeled with revulsion or interest and Draco dropped his eyes once more to the floor not even sneaking glances through his lashes at the door.
Would he have called for Hermione as well? If not who else was he holding prisoner? And where were his parents? He hadn't seen them since he slipped away last night. Thoughts spun through Draco's mind until a muffled shriek filled the air and he looked up reflexively.
There was his mother and father, bound and gagged, being led into the room by two hooded Death Eaters. It seems his mother had seen him kneeling here and had tried to pull away. He watched in horror as her captor shook her roughly and his father tried to ignore her, looking away in disdain. His scant hold on his stomach crumpled as he saw his mother and he began to retch for all to see. Nothing came up for he hadn't eaten in quite awhile and there was nothing for him to vomit up. His gaze fell back to the floor until a magical force pulled up his chin. He saw a disturbingly feral grin peripherally on the face of Voldemort as the rest of the prisoners were led into the room and forced into kneeling positions facing him and the Dark Lord.
Each person was bound and gagged. Aside from his parents were most of his old professors from school. He saw Flitwick, Trelawney, McGonagall, Slughorn, Sprout and others he had never taken classes with. The oaf Hagrid was bound from head to toe in rope and had been levitated in and was being held by three masked Death Eaters in the back of the room, blocking the exit for all. The rest of the prisoners were his peers though he only recognized Longbottom and the blonde, Looney, Luna. Whatever her name was.
Everyone else hovered along the walls in the back of the room while the Death eaters stood closer to the front of the room. The survivors looked fearful and nervous while the Death Eaters exchanged banter and laughter that defiled the tomb like feeling of the room.
"Silence," Voldemort commanded as the people began to still.
"Your Lord has brought you all here to witness justice being done. Your Lord is merciful but traitors must be punished as an example to all. I will not tolerate betrayal in my ranks. Many of you see Draco here; not a terribly bright boy but he has been useful. However, he comes from traitorous stock."
His followers laughed and jeered until a hiss from the Dark Lord brought the room back to stillness. Draco avoided looking up. His mind numbed and he had a feeling as to the direction where this was going.
"I tell you this because I want all to know that your Lord can forgive but will never forget failure and disobedience. Lucius, come forward," Voldemort commanded and crooked his index finger at a now quivering Mr. Malfoy whose face held a weak look of contempt but his shaking betrayed his fear. At the beckoning, Draco watched as his father slid forward on his knees to cower at his feet.
"Lucius here failed me many times yet I forgave him because he was still somewhat useful. He granted me full access to his home and treasures, yet now that I have Hogwarts I no longer need his…gracious hosting. He let personal items of mine into unquestionable danger and cowered instead of helping me rise, just as he is doing now."
Muffled whispers circulated among Voldemort's followers, while those in the back of the room were motionless.
With a flash of green light, Lucius crumpled to the floor and an inhuman screech came from Narcissa as tears streamed down her face, her eyes flickering from Lucius to Draco to the Dark Lord.
"As I said, I can forgive but even my leniency is limited in the face of treachery," Voldemort mocked and stifled chuckles of fear added to the sound of his mother sobbing on the floor.
Draco still didn't look up. He had flinched when his father has slumped to the floor, but he kept his eyes cast downward to hide the tears silently rolling down his cheeks. He had hated this man his father had become but still, it was his father and Lucius hadn't always been mad. There were years when Draco was young that they had acted like father and son at least in a formal and stilted way. Draco always thought that was how all father's acted until his first time on the Platform 9 ¾ when he had seen the Weasely clan's father picking Ron up and hugging him goodbye. It wasn't until that moment that he began to wonder why his father never showed him any affection. His thoughts broke off as he began to speak again.
"Must your Lord keep asking for silence?" Voldemort intoned quietly, yet was heard throughout the hall. A deathly silence followed leaving only the sound of his mother's quiet sobbing.
"Ahh Narcissa, please. Come forward," Voldemort said, almost sympathetically.
Draco glanced through his lashes silently willing his mother to get up. If she obeyed she would live. Please, god, let her live he prayed in his mind. But it was as if his mother hadn't heard the command. She was crumpled in a heap on the floor, her slight body shaking from the force of her grief.
"Your Lord said move," and with a quiet scuffle that echoed in the silent hall, Narcissa was dragged to her feet and hauled forward by the hooded Death Eaters.
Now Draco looked up and watched as his beloved mother stood in front of the snake. She had stopped crying, her breathing shallow and her eyes cold and empty meeting the red ones of her husband's murderer. Please don't do anything stupid, Draco prayed fervently of his mother.
"Ah Narcissa. Once a lovely young woman full of promise and talent turned into a pitiful trophy wife of the Malfoy clan. How your talents have been wasted and depleted over the years," Voldemort hissed with a smile. Narcissa didn't blink, merely met his eyes with a quiet fury he had never seen his mother posess.
"Yet even after all these years, your talents as an actress have never faded. Your Lord knows what you did in the forest. I know how you lied and I know why. See, as clever as you may think you were, your Lord is infinitely cleverer."
At that, Voldemort leered at him and his mother noticed the change of his gaze. Her eyes swept toward him in a flash of terror. What had happened in the forest?
"You perhaps were the most treacherous of all. How I hate to waste pureblood but since you are past the prime of childbearing, you can do nothing to restore our ranks. I have no use of you, just like I had no further use for your pathetic husband," Voldemort said, fiddling with his wand thoughtfully.
Draco knew, in his heart, what was about to happen and his soul cried out for his mother to run, fight, do anything. But she stood there, her eyes calculating. A final glance at Draco was full of longing and beseeching for forgiveness than she was gone in a jet of green light.
An involuntary gasp filled the room as she fell to the ground. Draco's eyes were still on hers, now dead and glassy and he felt as if his whole being was wrenched in two. He felt the gaze of him on his back, but he did not let out the unbearable scream that was slowly growing inside of him. He would not give him that power. So he carefully composed his gaze to that of apathy and blocked his reeling mind. His vision went blank and all he could feel was the blood roaring in his ears and the sinking of his stomach that you get when you miss a stair and almost fall.
His parents were dead. He was alone.