bury a friend • drarry

c r u c i f y

Chapter Eight:

Malfoy stood up straight against the tree trunk, his back aching from letting Harry's dead corpse lean on him all day. He knew he probably should have gotten a little bit more work done on the grave. But Malfoy didn't want to give Harry up just yet, and he feared that was a sign he was going insane. But as Harry was pressed against him, and he continued to close his eyes and breath for a few moments, things began to feel right. Things began to be the way they were before, before Malfoy had helped murder Harry.

But then Malfoy opened his eyes, and stared into Harry's blue ones, seeing the way they didn't spark with the fire of life. The forever vacant stare Harry had on his face and the way he was always cold. He pushed the body off to the side in disgust. It was starting to rot and stink. Malfoy knew what he had to do.

He had to give up his dreams.

He had to give up the thought that things would be okay.

Because he could see now that things would never go back to being the way they were before. He knew the prophecy. Or at least he knew the same parts that Voldemort did. He knew that no one would ever bring down the Dark Lord's reign now. Malfoy had known all these things for a long time. But it was now that he gave into the harsh reality that was corrupting his heart. And Malfoy's heart had already been beaten and broken a thousand times before. It was already so out of shape it could hardly be called a heart. But now it was more than just out of shape. Now it was slowly turning from red to black with each evil deed he did. With each tragedy that struck him. Malfoy's heart was no longer the same crimson.

As he dragged Harry into a nearby bush, and began covering the body up with leaves, his heart had become a full black.

No one would hurt Malfoy again. Nothing could hurt Malfoy again. He was finally the way his father wanted him to be.

He was finally pure evil.

And nothing but pure evil.

🔪

Lucius looked down at the young child sitting in his crib. The blonde haired newborn was going to be a healthy child. Or so the doctors had said. As Lucius looked down at it, he hoped he could bring light into young Draco's life. He hoped that him and Draco wouldn't have the same type of relationship that he'd had with his own father.

He sat back in his armchair, watching the child rest and feeling incredibly grateful for the existence of house elves. He smiled as he remembered the way Draco looked at him, with eyes that were filled with the brightest of lights, with a smile as wide as the horizon.

They were going to be such a happy family. He knew that much at least. He knew that now that Draco was here with them, their lives were finally going to be complete. Lucius knew that him and his wife would have so much more happiness now that their child had been born.

Young Draco Malfoy cooed in his crib, seeking his father's attention and looking up at the world around him with wide, curious eyes. Little did he know that he would spend the rest of his life seeking his father's attention, and trying to prove himself to his father. Little did he know the trainwreck his life would turn into, at just the wrong moment.

Little did he know the way he would fall in love, only to have his love taken away from him.

Little did he know the pain he would suffer.

🔪

"What the hell do you want now?" Malfoy grumbled. He'd been trying to get a full night's sleep for the first time since Harry's death. And for the first time since Harry's death he hadn't been plagued by never ending nightmares.