Miss Slytherin

Book 7: Chapter 1

"No! You need to stay awake, please!" The person begged, she felt tears falling onto her face. Her cheek got slightly slapped by the person who held her. Everything in her body started to ache, eyelids were starting to get heavy, her heart no longer beating.

"Take care of Harry for me," she tells the person, whoever they were. "And save him, save Draco for me... please."

"We can save him together, please stay awake!"

She couldn't reply. Her throat had dried up, she couldn't hold onto anything anymore. She fell into that dark void, alone. 

Draco clenched his jaw as he tried to block out the words being spoken right in front of him, with both his hands placed firmly on his lap as he stared at the dark lord at the head of the table. Subduing his urge to storm out the dining hall of his own home, he couldn't walk out, not when his mother's life was on the line. 

“Find the boy, and bring him to me,” the Dark Lord says, standing up from his seat and leaving them. Soon he was followed by the rest, and he too followed behind them. The task of taking Harry Potter from his own home to be tortured, to be killed. 

“Draco,” a soft voice called to him, causing him to turn around to face his mother who approached him. Her hands, though clad with satin gloves, still radiated that maternal warmth he had always loved as a child. “Be careful out there darling,” she whispers to him, her eyes brimming with tears knowing fully well what would happen if things went wrong and who would get punished if they failed. 

“I don't think I can promise that, mother,” he tells her, gently taking her hands from his face and walking off. Blocking out his mother's soft sobs echoing in the cold halls of Malfoy Manor, he heads into his room. Taking off the buttons of his shirt, haphazardly tossing it to a chair before turning to his bathroom. Wetting his face before staring at the mirror in front of him, much like what he previously did before he and Potter had a duel in the bathroom. Only this time he didn't look like a scared boy, he looked half dead. 

Scars all over his body from the punishment he endured when he failed to kill Dumbledore himself, when his aunt took pleasure in using sectumsempra curse on him to teach him a lesson. He resented her, he resented his father for putting them in this mess in the first place. He resented every single adult who failed him, his friends… her. 

The image of Finley resurfaced. How her beautiful emerald eyes lost its glow, the hut burning from behind her casting a shadow on her while a glistening silver dagger was stabbed through her chest from her back. He could remember his aunt's deranged cackles when she pushed the girl he loved to the ground to be left for dead. It was all fresh, he could see it so clearly like it was only yesterday when really it had been a couple months since then. 

He felt his fist sting. He blanked out again. He glances down at his hand to his bloody fist, his mirror shattered causing his reflection to distort. He took a step back, not even cleaning his hand before he wrapped it with a towel he had laying in his bathroom. 

“I heard shattering, what happened?” A new voice spoke as his door opened. Theo walking in, face frowning in worry. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Theo smile in the span of this whole mess. Not that he would blame him, everything in his childhood home is now tainted with death that he couldn't even remember the last time he called this place home much less recognize it from his memories as a child. 

“It's nothing,” Draco shrugged it off, “I need a new mirror,” he points out before sitting down on a couch near his fireplace. Staring blankly at the flames, letting himself feel the stinging on his fist. Imagining what it was like getting stabbed through the chest, would it be as painful as his fist? Or would it be much worse and then nothing.