Draco Malfoy, Broken

Chapter 68 - Let It Go

Chapter 68 – Let it go

Published – March 11, 2020

The ground squished with blood as he walked. He was already shaking and his breaths were becoming shorter... quicker. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He did this. He let them down. He got them killed. Fred, Lupin, Colin, Tonks, Snape, Dumbledore and Sirius. But there were more...hundreds... causalities of the next war were there, too. Draco, Teddy, Hermione, Blaise, Neville, McGonagall, and the rest of his friends were lying motionless and bloody on the ground. He had failed them, too. He was supposed to save them... save everyone. He was the one who was supposed to die, not them.

"I'm sorry," he said to their bodies.

He reached for Draco, intending to pull him into his arms, but Voldemort waded through the sea of his dead friends and family to approach him. Harry couldn't raise his wand. He couldn't defend himself. He had to face his executioner and not do anything. He could almost smell the blood and burning flesh. You didn't forget that smell.

"Harry Potter..." he whispered and there beside him was Hopkirk, her wand out.

She was grinning and said, "...you're going to lose everything this time."

Harry didn't respond. He just stared blankly at the specter that caused so much damage and his newest shadow. Voldemort raised his wand as did Hopkirk, following his every step. Harry tightened up and the dry sobs started up. It was coming... again. He froze and if he could close his eyes, he would have. But no, he was going to watch every millisecond of it. Death hurdled towards him, in slow motion, amping up his fear. How many more times much I endure this agony? he thought, as the green light smashed into his chest. Pain shot through him and he cried out.

"Harry!" he heard, before he started thrashing and fell off the bed to the floor, crying.

He woke up, but that didn't stop the pain radiating from that white scar on his chest. Draco got out of bed and wrapped his arms around him, but Harry couldn't stop crying. Draco arms clenched tightly around his chest to his body and Harry buried his face into Draco's skin. It was still dark in the room. He kept repeating, "I'm sorry," and could barely register Draco's soft voice, trying to lure him out of his break. He had no idea how long he was there. He fazed out trying to stop the screaming in his mind. He didn't hear the movement, but he saw it. He cringed away as someone placed a wet hand towel on his head.

"Thanks," Draco whispered.

"Looks like a bad one," Blaise said, making Harry stop muttering.

"Yeah. Harry? Can you hear me?"

Harry didn't answer, he just tried to keep from crying. Draco was one thing, Blaise was another. Harry sensed movement by their bed, which told him Neville was awake, too.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, again.

"It's okay... I've got you," Draco said, quietly, as he wiped his forehead with the towel. Harry felt Draco shift him and one arm went under his legs.

"Need help lifting him?" Blaise asked.

"No... I got him."

Draco slowly picked him up and got to a standing position, then he pulled him into bed. "Thanks, Blaise. I'll take care of him." Then he shut the curtains and said, "It's just us, Harry," like he knew how much Harry hated others seeing him when he was down.

Harry cried for a long time and slowly, against his will, he drifted to sleep. When he woke up, he was still tightly held in Draco's arms on his chest. He blinked and then looked up into Draco's soft gray eyes. He was definitely worried about him. Harry sighed and traced his chest, which Harry had to admit was getting well-toned from quidditch practice. Balancing on a broomstick was not easy and worked the core muscles a lot. He wiped the dried tears out of his eyes and looked back at Draco.