golden ; a draco malfoy fanfiction

sixty two

draco malfoy

I have never been more scared in my life. Lola was standing before me as I faced death.

And she was going to save me.

But she can't. She can't give up her morals just for me to live.

She despises death eaters, maybe even me. She can't do this.

I tried to study her face as she started to walk towards me.

What are you going to do, Lola?

elodie phillips

Be strong. Be brave.

I was strong for Draco. I was brave for Draco.

My heels clicked on the ground, creating haunting echoes in the silence of the room.

A crooked smile crept on Voldemort's face as I drew nearer.

Now was not the time to be an attacker.

Fierce protector.

"I'll join you," I spoke, the dryness of my throat making my voice crack.

I glanced over at Draco, whose eyes told me all I needed to know. Heartbreak, disappointment, guilt.

Voldemort turned to a corner of the room and nodded, and a masked death eater walked forward, drawing his wand.

Does it hurt?

The death eater stood behind me, making sure I wasn't going to run anywhere.

Run and die.

I held out my left arm hesitantly. I watched as the pale hands of Voldemort made their way to it, the feeling piercing my skin.

A pinch, and then a burn.

The burn crawled up my arm, radiating throughout my body.

I didn't react to it as much as I thought. My mind had blocked out everything.

The sound of a clock ticking in a nearby room, the sound of Draco's faltering breaths.

The face of the darkest wizard, the face of a killer.

The feeling of the dark mark etching into my skin, a permanent mark.

The taste of vomit teasing my mouth as I felt sick from fear and anxiety.

My mind blocked it all out.

I was present, but I wasn't truly there.

It was done.

Voldemort released Draco and me back to the rest of the manor.

I wanted to cry, scream, break something.

There was so much built up, and I didn't know how to release it.

Maybe this would help. Maybe being a death eater could pose as an excuse to be a bitch, to release that anger.

I glanced down at my arm, looking at the freshly imprinted scar. I glanced over at Draco, who looked straight ahead of him.

"It didn't hurt as much as I imagined," I noted, trying to spark conversation just so I could hear his voice.

"Lola, please stop acting like everything is okay."

"I'm sorry."

We walked in silence. I didn't even know where we were going. A dull throb was still present.