Escaping Darkness [Book 1 of Through Darkness and Light]

Chapter 11: Plea For Help

The color drained out of Draco's face as he stared down at the paper he held in his hand. The paper that had successfully ruined his life. Just when things were looking up, too.

Draco,
The very thing I have always hoped for has come true. The Dark lord has taken notice of you. It seems he has a request to make of you. I trust you will not deny him an audience. I took the liberty of telling him that you would meet with him this morning, at 10:30 sharp. I will be arriving at 10, to bring you home and prepare you for your appointment. Do try not to be late.
Father

His chest heaved as panic threatened to seep in. No, no, no, no, no, NO! He could not go to the Dark lord...he couldn't. Countless others had, failed, and died. His life was just getting better. Why? Why him? Why had his father decided to throw away the life of his own son?

He doesn't love you... 

He only needs you because you are the Heir...

If he had another son, he'd kill you himself...

The thoughts overwhelmed his mind, and Draco fought the urge to scream. Instead, another thought popped into his mind.

Harry...gotta tell Harry...he can help me... 

•••

"What do you think the Dark lord wants?" Harry's face was pinched with concern, as the two boys talked in quiet voices. They were once again sequestered in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, trying to keep from being overheard by a certain whiny ghost, who was overjoyed at seeing the two boys again.

"To kill me?" Draco hadn't stopped pacing since he'd found Harry before breakfast. "What does it matter? All that matters is that my father doesn't take me to him!"

The Gryffindor paused for a moment, deep in thought. "He'd come after you if you went into hiding," he murmured, half to himself. Draco's frantic gaze rested on him, and he sighed. "Draco...everything will be alright. I won't let him kill you. I'll kill the bastard before he kills you."

The reassurance did nothing to soothe Draco's nerves. Instead, he finally hesitated in his pacing, long enough to whirl on Harry. "And how are you going to do that, huh? This is my father and the Dark lord we are talking about. Bloody You-Know-Who, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named-And-For-Good-Reason!"

"Voldemort."

Draco flinched. "Don't," he said harshly. "Don't say his name."

"Why? Hermione says fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself..."

"I don't care!" Draco's entire frame was trembling, and his hands were clenched into fists, as he said in a low voice, "You don't know what it's like, to live like this...to have to be summoned, like a prisoner before an executioner."

"I do know, actually." Draco's mouth was still open, as Harry interrupted, but he shut it, in favor of looking at Harry quizzically. Harry shrugged, and continued quietly. "I know what it's like to hear your name being called, to know that something is going to happen. I know what it's like to fear the unknown, to know that whatever is coming is not to your best interests. I know what it's like to be 'summoned', as you put it."

The memory of his uncle shouting, Boy! made Harry shiver. Draco seemed to sense what Harry was referring too, because he adopted a guilty expression.

"I'm sorry...I forget I'm not the only one to grow up in...less that favorable conditions," he said apologetically. "It's just...I'm terrified, Harry. I don't want to go...I don't want to...to die..." The last words were spoken in a whisper, and Harry patted Draco's shoulder.