Ending It All (Draco Malfoy Fanfic)

Chapter Eight - The Not as Expected

Hi! I know, I'm back. I know, it's been forever. I left Wattpad because the fandoms here got really toxic and I didn't want to be a part of that, so I moved to greener pastures. I still write fanfiction, I just mainly focus on the next gen now, so writing this will be very interesting. People really wanted me to continue this, I got so many emails about it, so I will. Not super often, but often enough. I did have a full plot figured out for this, and I do somewhat remember it, but yeah. I'm back-ish. Enjoy!

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Draco opened his eyes to find a rather suspicious sight. He was inside a house. But, it most certainly wasn't the Manor. And if he was being completely honest, he didn't know whether he should be terrified or thankful that he wasn't at the Manor. On one hand he was away from Lucius, but on the other hand he had no idea where he was or how he got there. 

He tried to think back to the last thing he remembered. He had been dragged out to the garden, and thrown into a hole after a body binding spell had been placed on him, and Lucius started to bury him alive. So, if he was supposed to be suffocating in a shallow grave, why wasn't he? His first thought was that he was in the afterlife. Maybe he'd be sent to Purgatory and could repent for his sins and make it to Heaven? Doubtful, he was more likely in Hell. Except, Hell didn't usually smell like chocolate.

"Good, you're awake," Draco jumped when he heard the voice of a man. "Sorry, your house-elf brought you here. You've been passed out for a while."

Draco turned to see a man around Lucius' age, with salt and pepper hair and grey-blue eyes. He placed a tray of chocolate biscuits on the coffee table, and offered Draco a kind smile.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked. "A shower? Maybe a change of clothes?"

Draco looked down and noticed he was in fact caked in dirt and soil. Ordinarily he would have been disgusted and appalled by the mere thought of being in this state, let alone being seen in such a state, but something told him he should trust this man. This man was being kind, even if Draco looked like a homeless man days from death.

"I'm sorry, are you mute?" The man asked. "Hard of hearing?" He raised his voice a little, before pointing to his ears. "Deaf?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't will himself to say anything. He sighed and shook his head.

"Mute?" 

Draco frowned and went to speak, but ended up just coughing violently. The man offered him a tissue, and he coughed into it until the onslaught subsided. Turns out there was dirt in his lungs, yay.

"How did...?" The man looked at Draco in wonder. "What happened?"

Draco folded up the tissue and shrugged. The man had offered him a shower, and he wanted to take him up on that offer. He was disgusting, and filthy, and he desperately needed a shower if he even hoped to feel anywhere close to himself again. Maybe once he was showered and changed he wouldn't feel so strange, and he might be able to explain himself at least a little bit to this man. He had technically just showed up unannounced with the assistance of a house-elf, apparently.

Draco went to open his mouth but still didn't seem to be able to speak. He sighed. This was going to be embarrassing. He lifted his arms and fluttered his fingers in an attempt to convey that he wanted to shower, but he wasn't sure how easily that desire came across.

"Of course," the man stood and gestures for Draco to follow. "You can borrow some old clothes of my wife's that she was going to donate. Do you have a preferred colour?"

Draco looked at his own clothes, and gestured to himself. He may have been covered in dirt, but it was pretty clear that he almost exclusively wore black and grey.