REQUIREMENTS | DRACO MALFOY

39 | The Spare

I needed his touch. I needed to see his face, his beautiful face one last time, because that was the face I had grown to love so dearly in only a matter of months. Would he miss me if I left? Would he know? I wished he wouldn't, because I didn't want him to feel the pain I was feeling at this very moment.

"No, my servant," a quiet voice said, their voice as thin as ice, "she is just as useful."

Pettigrew lowered his wand, "but she is not the boy."

"She is the enemy."

"How so, my lord?"

"She stood alongside Harry Potter, and slayed the basilisk," the voice spoke, "yes...blood taken of the pride of Slytherin. She will make do."

She will make do.

I felt stripped of my strength completely, left to die in a field of wasted souls. Would mine become as wasted as theirs? Would mine be forgotten? I could barely lift my head to look at Cedric's body once more.

I wanted him to be alive...please.

Let him be alive.

But I felt too numb to move, and I felt too numb to resist as I felt myself be dragged away from his body and thrown to the ground. I felt too numb to care as I felt the blade of a knife drag across my skin, blood pouring out of my veins and into a cauldron of spewing flames.

And I felt too numb for fear.

As if I'd fear Voldemort to begin with.

My throat felt dry, my voice gone and unspoken, and my tears burning the sides of my face like they weren't tears at all. That's the thing about unbearable pain. It's so heartless and cruel that you can't even feel it, much less bear it.

So I lay on the grass, drowning through it all, watching as shadows of black flew from the sky and into the Graveyard like reflections of dementors and demons. They were all clothes in dark robes, pitch black fabric draped from the tip of their hoods to the bottom of their boots, and they had a murderous look in their eyes.

But there was one who was watching me.

With hatred.

"Where is the boy, my lord?" The death eater spoke, "why is this girl in his place?"

I heard the crunching of leaves as the cloaked figure approached, and I felt my body twitch as they came to a stop in front of me. They were watching me. Observing me. I couldn't look them in the eye, even as they bent down to pull me onto my knees.

I thought they'd kill me. Inflict more torture upon my already broken life, but instead they didn't. They snatched up my arm, lifting my hand up to their gaze as their eyes came to a stop on a familiar band around my finger.

Draco's ring.

And in a split second, I realized who it was. Those cold, grey eyes were familiar. I'd looked into the parallel of those eyes so many times, analyzing every single part of it, but these eyes... These eyes were full of hatred, and that could only mean one thing.

"Where did you get this?" Lucius Malfoy hissed, his hand wrenched tightly around my wrist, "where?"

I didn't answer, refusing to break my gaze. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"Tell me where you got this ring!" He roared, "tell me!"

I still didn't respond.

"Answer me!"

When I still didn't answer, I felt a sharp force against the side of my cheek, and my head was thrown to the side. My skin was burning. Tingling with the feeling of painful force.

He had slapped me.

I could feel the tears start to streak down my face, but I still couldn't speak. I couldn't say the truth, because I couldn't see Draco in danger. If he knew Draco had willingly given me the ring, he'd get hurt again.

And If I had to suffer to keep him safe, I would.

"Lucius, do not waste your time on such a weak girl," Voldemort hissed, "I trust Draco would know better than to consort with the wrong kind."

"Then where did she get the ring, my lord?" The man sneered, "it belonged to my father, and was supposed to be in the possession of my son."

I could feel all their eyes on me, watching me in hatred, and circling around like vultures to prey. And then I felt a cold, bony finger slide across my cheek all the way down to my chin, lifting my head so that I had to look my enemy in the eyes.

"Oh?" Voldemort said breathily, "then tell us, my dear, where did you get the ring?"

I still refused to speak.

"She must have stolen it!" Lucius growled, raising his hand to hit me again, "my son is no blood-traitor!"

And as his hand came crashing towards me, something snapped.

I used to have a rope around my heart, tying it close to me and keeping me safe, but overtime that rope withered away over, and over, and over again, that now it was one piece of a string keeping me together.

But now it snapped.

And now I lost my heart.

In one swift movement, I deflected the man's attack, shoving his hand away and stumbling onto my feet. My body ached, but I knew I had to fight. Fight for my life, fight for Cedric, fight for the chance that I would see Draco again.

"He is not your son," I spat out, my heart throbbing, "because you never treated him as one."

I watched as everyone had their wands at the ready, taken aback by my newfound resistance. But Lucius seemed the worst of them all. Not only did I take his son, I took his pride.

"How dare you speak to me like that," he growled, ready to aim a spell, "you will pay for this, you filthy—"

Before he could finish his sentence, I raised my wand up to my lips, muttering a soft 'fumos'. A cloud of thick black smoke surrounded the cemetery, and the screams and shouts of panicked death eaters began to erupt through the layers of fog.

Spells were being cast blindly left and right, but I dodged them all, running, and running, and running until I could pass the smoke and find the one thing I was looking for. The one thing I promised to look for.

Cedric lay on the broken ground, his body sprawled lifelessly and cold as ice. Seeing him again tore something away from me; a piece of my soul, a piece of my mind, and a piece of my life. I collapsed to the ground, my hands clawing at the ground to keep me moving.

I could barely see through the blurry cover of my tears, praying that I'd have time.

He didn't.

And as I placed my hand on his heart, I tried to ignore his missing heartbeat as I said the only words I could bear to say.

I'm sorry.

And then we were gone.