𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 - 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

9.6K 204 88
                                    

╭────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────╮

𝐃

I looked at myself in the mirror. Every day that passed, I looked more like him.

I hardly ever saw my Father, so it was easy to forget how he looked like in the passage of time.

His fearless face had been burned in my mind as a man with no flaws. I looked up to him like I was still a child. Even as I felt his palm hitting my face harshly, he looked like the man I wanted to be one day. When I was younger, I tried to grow my hair out, but my mother refused and always cut it.

The mirror was distorted and stained from old age; the dark wood on the wall smelled of varnish and dust. Next to me, a black dresser. Hidden inside was a bottle. I knew what was coming was painful. There was no harm in numbing some of the torture. I put the bottle back in its place. Drinking was never something that we acted like it was not a family tradition. I guess I was somehow ashamed though.

A knock on the door. I didn't wonder who it was. The Manor was empty as always.

My mother was holding a glass, half-empty. Her hair was slicked back, and her dress was pressed. Even now, that she was breaking inside, she wanted to break presentable.

"He wants to see you," she said.

I walked through the halls like a dead man to be.

He wants to see you.

The same five words every time a new expectation was added to the list. It was always said by the same woman, and it always led to Father's office. You will never give a blanket to an elf again. You will never read that book again; it's muggle. You will never talk over me again. You will never get in the office while I'm having a meeting. Whatever it was, it was followed by a light-red swell on pale skin.

This time, the five words led me to the Drawing Room, where my ancestors would watch me become a Death Eater. Another blanket, another book, another swell of sorts.

Becoming a Death Eater was usually a very simple ritual, but it was something most of the Death Eaters gathered for. There would be no public ritual for me. I was the recruit from a disgraced family. We had fallen, and the descent was long but quick.

Lord Voldemort was waiting with his wand at hand. He told me what he wanted me to do, and I accepted, almost as if I had a choice.

"You know what will happen, if you fail to complete this task, don't you, my boy?" he said in his old and low voice.

I nodded and knew it would be the death of me.

I was the Dark Lord's plan. Condemning me would be his revenge on my Father. Azkaban wasn't enough; he had to pay for failing the Dark Lord.

He ordered me to reveal my left arm.

I pictured my Father in his own jail, his face not that fearless anymore.

I had to do this.

⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼

This is not a story about a saviour complex—quite the opposite. Keep reading before you make up your mind.

Trigger Warning:

This story might be triggering to some audiences. If you're sensitive with issues such as drinking, self-harm, panic attacks, domestic violence, sexual violence, smoking and more, then maybe this is not the story for you. Please, approach this story with caution.

That being said, this story is a safe space for everyone that wants to share their thoughts and feelings. The comments are a safe haven for all of you. Be good to one another. We will get through this together.

Author's Note:

There is no other way to put this: it's a dark academia love.

This story covers year 6 to postwar. Be prepared for that 6th year Draco.

The POV of the story is determined at the top of each chapter, but bear in mind that I wanted to do something original and keep this story from Draco's POV as much as possible, for I believe Draco's POV is heavily undermined in stories.

Yes, don't worry, it will have some spice. But the story doesn't revolve around smut.

As always, I would like to remind you that English is not my mother tongue. I hope I don't make any distracting mistakes, but if you point out a mistake in the comments, be sure that I will correct it.

The story is currently being translated into Spanish (by aliciamalfoyc) and into French (by bitch4slytherln). You can also find the translations on my profile.

The story has a bit of a fetish for songs. In some specific chapters, I'm going to give you a YouTube video so that you can listen to the soundtrack of their love and vibe. Some songs have a very deep connection to the story, so I highly suggest you listen to them.

Need a Spotify playlist to vibe to while reading? I got you covered, girl. It's called 'saving draco malfoy' by Rennie Liaropoulou. I am also leaving a link in the comments if it's easier for you to use.

╰────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────╯

𝑆𝐴𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 𝑀𝐴𝐿𝐹𝑂𝑌Where stories live. Discover now