Seven Minutes | dramione

Chapter 5

Was the opportunity worth it? Was the chance of success worth the price of failure?

He didn't know.

That was the ultimate question in life: what was worth it, and what wasn't. Everyone needed to make sacrifices or takes risks to gain something. There was always a balance; the scales demanded it. You could achieve your wildest dreams, but you could lose everything as well. And which road you went down, failure or success, that depended on so many factors. Skill. Intelligence.

But above all, luck.

Draco thought about his task. It all depended on luck. Dumbledore needed to slip. Draco needed to have a breakthrough. A sign needed to fall from the sky. The answer had to click into place.

Otherwise, Voldemort would kill his family.

And him thereafter.

Draco buried his face in his arms. He let the sobs shake him. He gave himself a minute for weakness. After that, he needed to be strong.

His mother's life depended on it.

Sixty seconds.

He let his fear overtake him. It was the fear he had been supressing for weeks. It flooded his mind. He drowned it in, not letting himself surface.

Fifty.

The task was nearly impossible. How could he expect to kill one of the world's greatest wizards? The man could have him incapacitated in less than a minute.

Forty.

That was probably the point. The Dark Lord didn't want him to succeed. He wanted him to fail so that he could punish Lucius for his failures.

Thirty.

Draco felt the reality of the situation overtake him. He wasn't meant to succeed. He was simply a tool. His imminent failure was just the excuse the Dark Lord needed to kill his entire family. To kill off the Malfoys.

Twenty.

The Malfoys. For years, they had been the elite of the wizarding world's population. They had power, prestige, and extraordinary wealth. Everyone knew who they were. Everyone was scared of them. Everyone respected them. And yet, they had lost it all. They were dirt now, shamed eternally in the eyes of the wizarding world and the Dark Lord himself. It was up to Draco to save their legacy. Yet, he would probably fail, and everything would be lost.

Ten.

For the last ten seconds of his minute, Draco let sobs rack his body.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

"Malfoy?"

He recognized the voice immediately.

He looked up, trying desperately to stop his free flowing tears.

Out of the shadows walked Hermione Granger.

She had her wand in one hand. She was dressed in her school robes, with her long brown hair surrounding her head like a lion's mane.

She looked him over with obvious concern and confusion. She brushed her hair out of her face, her fingers lingering in her tendrils a few moments more.

"Malfoy?" she asked tentatively. "What are you doing?"

He fought to get a sneer on his face. "What do you think, Granger?"

She took a few steps forward. "I think you're crying alone in an empty corridor. But Malfoy's don't cry, do they? So I don't know...."

Draco's anger flared. "A Malfoy. I'm a Malfoy, right?" He snapped.