The Healer- A Draco Malfoy Fanfiction

Chapter 44: Draco's POV

I didn't regret trading my life for Erica's. I considered it my karmic gift to the universe. If I died, she would go on to save more lives than I would ever take away.

A wiser, stronger man would have let her leave for America. But it was unendurable to think of the castle without her. No one else understood me like she did- even my own mother saw that. It almost shocked me how easy it was to get over a multi-generational prejudice and admit to myself that a half-Squib was the love of my life; but with her uncle now in the picture, he played flawlessly into the narrative we needed to finally be together.

I did consider coming clean to Erica and admitting that she was being used without her knowledge as a cover story. But when I finally had her, I wasn't willing to risk doing anything that would make her run from me. So she and I became trapped in a deadly dance teetering on the fine line of mutual destruction. I wished I could say I regretted it. But finally being with her, even though she was a half-Squib, made me feel whole. And with everything falling into place, I knew I had the confidence to perform the killing curse.

Well. I did, until I saw the life drain from her face when I told her about it.

I thought I had what it took to kill until Erica came into my life and made me question my beliefs about blood purity. The Dark Lord wanted to kill all Muggleborns and Squibs. But how could I put my faith in someone who wanted to kill what I loved? It was a dangerous realization to be had, when I looked inward into myself and realized I was not killing for the Dark Lord. I was killing for Erica. But it was bitter to think about killing when I knew deep down that wasn't what she wanted. So slowly, I lost confidence in myself.

As the months of the calendar swiftly flew by, I found it harder and harder to see myself living beyond Dumbledore's assassination. We endured months of agonized waiting together, clenching our jaws every time the Cabinet was tested. She didn't know that every failed trial meant I got to live another day. I refused to confide in her that I was questioning my intentions because I knew it would only make her more distressed- but god, it was torturous, thinking about when the day would come when the Cabinet would be fixed and I would have to perform and inevitably fail. So I had to secretly prepare myself for the reality of my own demise. I was resolved to die if it meant Erica would live. I'm glad that she at least has the painting, so she will never forget the face of the boy who put a star in the sky for her.

I tried to savor my remaining time with her, but fucking her hard and often was the only thing that made me feel less like a dead man walking. She was like an IV drip of morphine barely keeping me afloat- but the promise of doom was always looming over our heads like a dark cloud that we believed we could chase away if we just loved each other harder.

I wanted to choose her. I didn't want to serve the Dark Lord anymore, I just wanted to exist with Erica in a world with nobody else. If we only had the chance, I would have married her in a heartbeat. But I was a slave to the Dark Mark. If I had just realized it sooner that I never really had a choice, then maybe she wouldn't have had to end things with me like she did today. At least now she wouldn't have to watch me die.

If only I had listened to Blaise and Pansy, instead of stubbornly thinking with my crotch instead of my head. I hated to admit it, but Blaise was right. I had turned into a shadow of who I used to be. I was a weak imitation of a Death Eater, and now I was going to pay for my weakness with my life.

If I was being completely honest with myself in this moment, all I wanted to do was off myself before the Dark Lord could have the satisfaction. Erica had left for America, and I was stuck here, tethered to the Dark Lord for as long as I lived; whether that be days, weeks, or hours.

But she and I would never meet again, not even in the afterlife.

I was headed to a place now where I had to go alone. So I have to let her go.

...

Fuck. I was crying again.

My father would have given me a stern look of disapproval if he saw me sobbing as pathetically as I was right now, hunched over a bathroom sink. But he was in Azkaban, and I was marching towards Death's door. So fuck it. I was going to cry. And if anyone saw me- I would turn them into target practice, and make them suffer as much as I was.

I lifted my head and looked into the mirror. I wasn't alone.

Damn it. Just the last person I wanted to see.

Potter.

wooowwiee that was a lot! This chapter took me the longest to write BY FAR, I think I've been working on it for upwards of two weeks! It's hard to get inside the head of a complex teenage boy like Draco, but I tried my best to describe how conflicting everything was for him, and how he did feel guilty about tricking Erica but he thought he was doing the right thing. If you've seen the movie/read the books, you all can probably guess what occurs next...

The final chapter is coming January 16th :) -kittyhawk