bury a friend • drarry

p u n i s h

Chapter Ten:

Malfoy didn't want to walk up to the front door.

He knew his father would be there to greet him. He knew he would have to look up at the disappointed look on his face. And he knew he would have to deal with the punishment for what he'd done. The scars on his back were already aching. But his parents and the Death Eaters were the last people who were there for him. They were the last people he had to turn to, and running away wouldn't do him any good.

He checked his pockets, knowing that he probably had just enough money to check into a nearby hotel for the night. He fished a couple galleons out of his pocket. Malfoy grimaced as he stared down at him, knowing that he'd rather sleep in a dingy hotel than face his father, but the money almost certainly wouldn't cover his food. And he knew for a fact that the place he would end up sleeping definitely wouldn't be anything pleasant.

He gathered up his bags and walked back down the front steps, hoping that the house elf hadn't noticed him yet. Malfoy should have been inside, greeting his father, but instead he was running from the man.

There was a sense of regret growing deep in his stomach as he walked down town, and not just at the fact that he wasn't going home that day, but also at the fact that he killed Harry. The look on Harry's face just before he'd died was something Malfoy would never forget. It chilled him to the very bone to know he was a killer. But he couldn't run from the future that was coming.

The future where everybody was a killer, just like him.

The future where everybody was a Death Eater, just like him.

The future where everybody was a sinner, just like him.

Malfoy didn't know if it was a future he could take. He didn't know yet if he was okay with living a life of evil. But his messed up heart told him it was. His messed up heart told him that now that Harry was dead he was supposed to crave a life of evil. He was supposed to take more lives for the Dark Lord. Malfoy knew that his heart was still wickedly evil, but he'd hoped he could have fixed it. He'd hoped that maybe Harry could fix it. But Harry was dead and he had no one to turn to.

Malfoy stared down at his luggage, the Malfoy family crest glaring back at him, and decided that he could keep it with him just a bit longer while he went to a nearby pub, figuring that there was nothing too important for people to steal in there anyway. Malfoy pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron. Just the act of pushing open the door nearly made the doorknob fall off, but Malfoy casually shoved it back into place before anyone could notice. Normally, he wouldn't have entered a place so dingy, but it was the nearest pub and he didn't have any change to spare to get a bus ticket to another.

Malfoy sat down at one of the seats at the counter, trying to avoid the gaze of any nearby people. He knew the sorts who entered this place certainly weren't up to any good. He'd only just sat down, when he started feeling a mild burning sensation going up his arm, Knowing it was the Dark Lord calling a meeting, he sighed.

He may have been able to avoid his father, but he almost certainly couldn't avoid the Dark Lord.

🔪

"Why won't you just tell me what's wrong? I want to help you." Harry pleaded with Malfoy, who was currently only walking faster away from him, deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

"Stop asking." Malfoy glared at him over his shoulder.

"Stop walking so fast." Harry huffed, nearly tripping over a large branch as he continued after Malfoy.

"Stop following me."

"After everything we've been through why are you doing this?"