CURSED: FROM THE BEGINNING [D.M]

-(98) i didn't do better

DRACO follows Harry and his friends towards the dockyard through the bloodbath that Hogwarts has become keeping Zilliah close to his side. The fact that she killed his aunt remains at the forefront of his mind but it's not because it bothers him that she is dead. It doesn't. He couldn't give two flying fucks about that woman. But his mother does. His heart aches only for her- only at the grief she might be holding. But he would never blame Zilliah for it because if he were her, he'd do the same. He is well aware of that.

They face the adversities along the way and descend the stairs to the dock but by the time they reach there, Voldemort is nowhere in sight and Snape is against the door, bleeding to death. And they realize that they are a little too late.

As soon as Snape's eyes find them, he beckons them towards his side. Draco holds the wound on his neck to try and stop the bleeding as Harry and Zilliah kneel down beside him. But it doesn't work. He is too deeply bitten. By Nagini, Draco realizes.

"The wand", Snape meets Draco's eyes and croaks out, grunting in pain. "He killed me for the wand. But he won't.. he won't..", he can't seem to complete the sentence, every word, every breath wearing him down.

Snape allows a few of his tears to break free of its cages and mumbles something so faint, so low. "Take them", he says and Harry turns to Hermione asking for a flask or anything of that sort.

Hermione produces one and hands it to him, in which Harry collects those tears. His eyes shift to Zilliah and even through the pain, even through the death that he can taste on his tongue, Snape's eyes soften at her, just like a father's does. And he smiles.

Draco has never seen Snape smile. Not like that. Not out of love for another human being. He didn't even know he was capable of that.

"Pensieve", Snape mutters out to Zilliah. "Potter and you must take turns", he manages to breathe out no matter what it exerts out of him. He knows he doesn't have much time left.

Zilliah holds herself together as she wraps her fingers around Snape's blood-soaked hand. "We will", she assures him, biting back the cries that erupt within her.

He widens his smile just that little before turning to Draco and he doesn't even need to say anything. Just that glance. Just that soft look. It means everything to Draco.

Atlast his eyes shift to Harry and a sort of tranquillity washes over his features. "You have your mother's eyes", he mumbles like it's the most important thing he will ever say just as he takes his last breath, forever fading into nothingness.

Draco withdraws his hand from Snape's neck, the blood smeared across his hand.

And a cold feeling takes root in his heart. But what confuses him is that it's not just from Snape's death. It's from the fear of something that awaits him- some peril- a certain fate- that will tear him apart once and for all.

.

Voldemort had commanded his troops to retreat and asked Harry to be brave and surrender himself. That was an idiotic thing to do if there ever was one and Draco advises Harry against it as they walk into the castle, right into the midst of all the deaths and ruins. "We've fought for too long and lost too much to give in now. Don't be stupid and play right into his games."

Ron and Hermione who was right by their side rush off towards the Weasleys who are gathered around Fred. Fred who is dead. Fred who will never pull pranks or laugh again. Fred who will only remain in their memory from now on.

Draco looks all around him and takes in the faces of everyone who lies cold and blue.

Remus Lupin.

Nymphadora Tonks.

Lavender Brown.

Colin Creevey.

He can feel his throat closing up and he can't. He can't look at them anymore.

It's too much. There's too much death and he spins away from them, willing himself to get his mind rid of the countless bodies that lay in the hallway.

Harry tells him that he and Zilliah will go to the Headmaster's office to use the pensive. And Draco would've accompanied them but he has to find his mother. He can only imagine how much of a mess she is right now and he can't let herself be on her own for any longer.

"I understand", Zilliah tells him, her gaze soft and sad. She places her hands on his cheeks and brushes her lips against his. And that simple contact makes him want to just fall to the ground and stay there because he was so so so exhausted. "Find her. I'll make my way back to you after I find out what Snape wants me to", she breathes against his skin and he can only nod because he doesn't trust his voice not to break.

She presses her lips to his for a second longer and then pulls away before giving him a small smile and walking away with Harry.

And Draco can feel his legs giving out. He can hear his soul pleading for some rest.

But he has to find his mother.

.

"So, she was alive.. all this while?", Narcissa asks, her eyes fixed on the corpse of her sister that lays on her lap.

"Yes, she was", Draco mumbles from where he was seated beside her, having just told her about Xena. "Why did you never fight for her? I don't remember anything but from what she showed me, you didn't seem to care at all."

Narcissa heaves a sigh as she caresses Bellatrix's cold cheeks, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I did care", she says, her voice somehow still stable despite the broken figure she is. "I always cared. But I had to pretend that I did not."

"Why?", is all Draco can ask as he looks at his mother's haunted eyes and hollow cheeks.

Her lips- they quiver. They quiver with grief and they quiver with fear and they quiver with shame. "Because I was afraid your father would only hurt her more if he saw that I cared for her", she says, recoiling into herself at the words that fall out of her mouth. "I was never brave, Draco", she turns to him, moments away from letting her mental walls slip. "I cowered to Lucius. I heeded to everything he said and tolerated everything he did because I was a damn coward. Because I didn't fight back when I know I should've."

Draco can hear his mother's heart break. He can hear it in his ears, in his mind, in his own goddamn heart, punctured and worn out.

"I couldn't be brave enough for you and I couldn't be brave enough for her either", Narcissa's voice crack, the pain. the anguish, the utter torment in her seeping through the holes she had tried so hard to cover up. "And there's not a day that goes by that I don't regret it. There's not a day that goes by that I do not despise myself for being this useless vessel."

Draco can feel his own tears slipping past his eyes at her words. He hated to see his mother in pain. He still does.

"It was me who wiped your memories", she tells him, lifting a hand to his chin and holding him, unable to control her tears. "You didn't eat for day and night. You kept calling out her name and startling awake. I had to do something, Draco. And I didn't know better. I didn't do better. I'm so so sorry, my dear son. I only hope you can forgive me for that one day."

And Draco nods, unable to speak, unable to breathe as he crashes into his mother's side.

"And I want you to know I don't hate Zilliah for this."

She doesn't have to elaborate. For this. For killing her sister, she means.

"I understand her rage and her pain very well, Draco. I felt the same towards Lucius when he took my little girl away from me."

Draco loses every restraint he has on himself.

"But she was alive- she was alive all this while. And I couldn't.. I couldn't touch her. I couldn't kiss her-"

Narcissa shatters, right then and there, like raindrops pelting to the ground. And Draco can feel his own tears mix with his mother's as they hold each other over Bellatrix's dead body and fall apart.