The Execrated

IV

I had never been inside the city before. We had to have a permit before we were allowed to enter or exit through one of the huge archways in the wall surrounding the border. From afar the city of London looked eerily beautiful, the glassy buildings reflecting the warmth of the sun in intricate patterns, and yet at the same time not creating heat itself, appearing cold and empty. Up close, it was intimidating. The buildings stretched high into the sky, but they were looming down upon me, shattering my nerves like the glass they were made of.

How ironic, a human being far more fragile than its creation.

As the van drove on I felt the desire to scream building within me. I felt so trapped in this stifling, shining place, and they hadn't even put me behind bars yet. We drove further and further away from the world that I knew, that I was used to, and into the maze of translucent walls.

Draco had his eyes shut. He looked in pain, but when his eyelids finally fluttered open, his face was filled with a grim resignation. It was silent in the van, but no words were needed. We had known what we were risking when we got into this mess, and now it was time to pay the price.

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The van jerked to a halt and the back doors were flung open. Three more officers were stood in front of Harry and I, all wielding guns and looking menacing. It was a completely inappropriate time, but for some reason I thought it was overkill. I mean, we were unarmed and had our hands cuffed behind our backs. What did they think we were going to do? Kiss, perhaps?

I had no more time to think as I was whisked away down a corridor, and then another, and then another. I vaguely acknowledged that we were inside one of the city prisons, but other than that I did not stop to take in my surroundings. That is, until I was pushed into a small room and the door was locked behind me.

There was a window in front of me, and through it I saw a figure that made me gulp in fear. My father. He had a murderous expression on his face and in that moment I feared him more than the possibility of the death penalty.

Slowly, I approached the glass and picked up the small phone on my side, watching apprehensively as my father did the same.

"Um..." I stuttered.

"What were you thinking Draco?" My father hissed. His glare was icy.

"I-I-I... I don't know" I admitted miserably.

"Your mother has been in hysterics since we got the news, Draco. When you're released, I hope you know I'm considering disowning you for the shame you've brought upon our name."

"Wait! What do you mean, 'when I'm released'?" I felt my heart soar. I was too young to die after all.

"Well naturally you'll be released after you give your statement about the atrocities you were submitted to at the hands of that filthy muggle. He's already been convicted of forcing you to partake in an illicit relationship and if we're lucky we can also get him for sexual assault of a pureblood and rape. All you need to do is tell the officers that he did it and they'll believe you."

"B-but he didn't. I love him father, why would I lie? If I say that he's going to die!"

"Draco, Draco, Draco. He's going to die anyway. His neighbour's already testified against him. And even if they didn't have any evidence they'd still kill him. One less muggle in the world is always a good thing. I was merely thinking about how best to salvage the Malfoy name. Being raped is far less shameful than participating in anything consensual with one of them."

"If his neighbour testified why aren't I getting the death penalty too?" I asked, feeling my throat constrict tightly at the thought of never seeing Harry again.

"You really think they would ever sentence one of us? We're far superior to those filth Draco. We are above punishment - in the eyes of others we can do no wrong. Be a bit more grateful you brat. Thank your ancestors that they saw fit to improve the future generations of the Malfoy's, otherwise you'd be a dead man walking too."

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes at this injustice, but I refused to cry. I would not cry. Not yet anyway.

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They set the day of my execution as May 2nd. I didn't even get a trial, not that I was expecting one. Instead I sat, in an overcrowded, filthy cell, counting down the days. I couldn't complain about my temporary accommodation though, because at least here we were fed three times a day and there was no draft.

I heard that Draco tried to visit me a couple of times, but they wouldn't let him in. No matter how important he was in this city, they didn't want to take the chance of me corrupting him again.

I had nowhere to be, nothing to do. I watched, as day by day, other prisoners were taken away in handcuffs, never to return again. It was a one way system, removing the vermin of society in an organised and efficient way. As I sat in the queue on the conveyer belt moving towards my grave, Draco often filled my thoughts. I was sad that I would never be able to touch him again, kiss him, or hold him in a comforting embrace, but in the grand scheme of things he was much better off without me. Our world just didn't allow it.

The day came, and I smiled at the warden who came to take me away. I let them guide me down the narrow, grey corridors, past the other cells, also full. I didn't complain as they strapped me to the half-table, half-bed and nodded at the woman in a white coat, who was preparing a needle.

I thought of my parents, who had both died in this manner. I imagined that they had died with honour, and I planned to do the same thing. 'I'm coming mum.' I whispered in my mind, 'Don't worry, your son's coming.'

On the other side of the room was a black pane of glass - the viewing gallery if you will. I convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, Draco was standing behind it and I grinned wildly. 'I love you.' I mouthed at the glass. Then I turned my head to face the ceiling and took a deep breath, feeling the prick of a needle entering my body.

I closed my eyes, and welcomed death as the end.