NATALIA [Draco Malfoy Fanfiction]

Twenty-Two | Defenceless

It hurt—like he had been alive before the curse hit him, like he was a living, breathing person that I had spent the year talking to. The grief had struck me almost as hard as any of the torture I had endured thus far, and so when I realized he was gone, I screamed out in pain.

I had screamed, and looked right at the dark lord in rage, watching as he clasped his head in pain and cried out before ordering someone to take me to the dungeons.

I passed out then, and woke up on the unfinished floor sometime later.

The first hour, I had barely been conscious, only noting the cold surface of the stone I lay curled up on and the anguish that seemed to come with the silence of my mind. I loose count of the hours after that, time and space blurring together to form some strange state of being, one that has me randomly twitching and unable to keep my eyes open.

Taste is the next thing I regain, only to find I had been swallowing my own blood for the past few hours; which I cough up in disgust.

Sight comes next, with a shock, I might add, as it came with Draco standing over me with that strange look on his face—the one where he can't quite figure out what's going on.

So, I couldn't help but ask: "what is it?"

"Are you... okay?"

"He was younger," I realize then, "I couldn't put my finger on it, but he was younger."

"Natalia. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sirius. He was younger when I looked him in the eye."

I hear Draco sigh, a foreign and new sensation shocking my system that I only realize I little later that it was his hand reaching down and caressing the side of my face. "You took the potion when you left," I muttered softly, confused as I turn to see him kneeling over me. "Why..."

"He's going to bring you out again—Voldemort, I mean. He's going to bring you out and torture more information out of you."

"Whatsortainformation?"

"Well, how you survived a killing curse, for starters."

I let out a huff—a laugh, actually—though it didn't sound like one, nor feeling like one, per say, which is why I don't pick up on it right away. "Do you... do you know how..."

"No," I stated shortly.

I heard his bones shift as he moved to sit down more comfortably, wordlessly pulling me into his lap, and his hands... his hands begin to run through my hair. "You have to come up with a plan," he told me.

"I don't have one."

"That's not an option, Natalia. You can't... you can't just give up."

"M'not giving up, I'm... saying I don't have a plan."

His hand wavered, and I felt it falter against my cheek. "You took the potion," I repeated my previous thought, "I thought... I thought it was supposed to last longer."

There's a hitch in his breath that he tried to conceal. "It is supposed to last longer, no?" I added quietly.

"Yes."

"And it... has it?"

"I... I don't know. I don't what's going on."

"That can't be good."

Now, it's his time to laugh, his voice drowned out by it's own echoes as it quietly danced off of the walls. "You're right, it can't be," he agreed, "seems like I've really fucked up this time."