You and Draco face the dark lord once again. You have to confess why the wand doesn't quite feel right when Voldemort uses it.
~~~
The Malfoy Manor was as formidable as ever. As you and Draco crossed the threshold into the daunting mansion, Narcissa was there, front and center, her stare icy and her arms folded. She didn't really spare you a glance, but you couldn't say you were surprised by the action. Draco, on the other hand, tensed by your side at the silent dismissal, and you squeezed his arm in an attempt to both reassure him and stop him from saying something you knew he'd regret.
The chandelier hung in the foyer just as it always did, but something about the giant glass light hanging over the heads of the three of you felt more ominous this time around. You couldn't help but stare into the light of it above you, absentmindedly wondering what would happen if it were to ever collapse. You didn't have much time to wonder, however, as Narcissa's voice cut through your thoughts and brought you back to where you were standing, next to her son as she spoke to the both of you.
"He's waiting for you in the study," came the voice of the lady of Malfoy Manor. You hadn't expected a warm welcome, but you had been hoping there would've been something that could delay you from actually going into the room where you were quite certain, by this point, that you would die. But when she gave no further instruction, Draco nodded once and guided you into the room where the Dark Lord awaited the both of you. You felt her eyes on your back as you entered the room, but you didn't dare glance back at her. After her reaction to Draco taking you back, you didn't want to interact with her any more than you were absolutely required to.
He immediately perked up at the sight of the two of you entering the room. As much as he could, anyway. You could hardly read any of the emotions that flittered across the dark wizard's mangled face, nor were you sure you wanted to be able to.
"So glad to see you both again," came his raspy voice, and you did your best to force a smile. "I'm glad it seems that you have also worked out your differences, as well."
"My mother is not as thrilled that we have done so," came Draco's response, but Voldemort waved his wand dismissively. "She's always been protective of her Drakey-boy," he said in a slightly mocking tone. "I wouldn't worry about it. Young love is not easily overcome."
Draco sighed heavily in lieu of responding verbally, which the Dark Lord either didn't notice or chose to ignore. Instead, he stood from his chair, towering over both you and Draco as you stood before him.
"Now, I believe you have brought my wand to me?" he asked, a greedy smile turning up the corners of his mouth. You shuddered to think of what the next few moments would hold, but you simply nodded, bringing the wand out of your bag and placing it in the dark wizard's pale, withered hand.
He brought it up to examine it in the dim light of the fire, turning it over in his hands to fully appreciate the intricate woodwork of the wand itself. He then pointed it at the fire, whispering "Extinguo!" and you and Draco both tensed as the fire stopped for just a moment—before immediately dying out, dousing the study in almost complete darkness. The only remaining light in the room came from a window that was just behind the large desk in the study—the one that you assumed belonged to Lucius Malfoy.
"Ah, beautiful," came the dark wizard's voice, bringing you out of your completely irrelevant thoughts about the mahogany desk. "It's wonderful. You have succeeded in this most dangerous quest." You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, hoping Voldemort didn't notice how much your shoulders sagged. You didn't want to imagine what it would be like to witness his wrath in someone he believed wasn't fully loyal to him—or fully faithful in him.
You opened your mouth to thank him for placing his trust in the two of you, but the Dark Lord continued. "I'm afraid it doesn't feel quite right, however—it doesn't seem to be responding to me and my authority the way my own wand does."
"Perhaps it recognizes that you still use your own wand," Draco blurted, and you squeezed his arm tightly, not wanting him to speak so rashly. Voldemort looked back at you, his eyes flicking between you and the Slytherin boy you were holding so tightly to. You couldn't decipher the evil wizard's expression, but then again, it was hard to read anything in the eyes or facial expressions of Voldemort himself. You supposed that was an advantage of his marred appearance, but you didn't want to dwell on that for any longer than you had to.
"I suppose that's possible," Voldemort said slowly, raising his wand back up. "But I believe you're lying to me."
Draco froze then, and Voldemort face displayed a sinister smile as you realized Draco had been caught. He screwed his eyes shut, and for just a second you were confused at his response. But looking back at the Dark Lord, you felt your heart leap into your throat, unable to do anything to stop what was happening as you watched Voldemort raise his wand even higher to point it at the boy you clung to.
"Crucio."
You barely heard yourself scream as Draco dropped to the floor, writhing in agony as the pain of the spell caused him to crumble to the rug beneath your feet. You heard Narcissa scream herself, the shrill noise coming from right outside the study. Hearing her visceral response only confirmed your suspicions that she always listened outside the study when the two of you were in here.
But that was hardly even close to being on your mind as you threw yourself over Draco, trying your best to shield him from the curse Voldemort had just bestowed on the poor boy. You knew deep down that your body wasn't going to stop or shield anything, but it was in your instinct to try. You couldn't hear anything but Draco in that moment, you couldn't even hear Voldemort's sinister laugh as he continued to torture the white-haired Slytherin Prince.
Then, when Voldemort finally released Draco from the spell, he collapsed under you and you had to catch yourself from falling on top of him, your hands slamming painfully onto the tile floor beneath you to stop yourself from landing too hard on Draco. You felt your breath shove out of you, almost as roughly as if you had landed on the tile yourself. You choked on the air you tried to bring back into your lungs, the tears streaming down your face clogging your airpipe to a point where you could barely even recover from having the wind knocked out of you.
"How noble of you," came Voldemort's mocking voice. You could tell just how much he was actually enjoying what he was doing, and the thought made your blood run cold. "Trying to save your little boyfriend from his punishment, what a cute stunt," he continued. He looked down at the two of you, sneering in a clear display of distaste for your attempt at protection. He came a step closer then, waving his wand at the two of you. "Stand up, both of you."
You were on your feet nearly immediately, struggling to help Draco up as well, and you tried not to look at the Slytherin boy, knowing his appearance would only make you feel worse. He whined in pain, and you felt your heart crack at the faint sound. You had barely even heard it, but it seemed to echo inside your mind.
"Tell me what's wrong with this wand, now," the Dark Lord ordered menacingly. "And don't you dare try to lie to me again. I won't hesitate to make things worse."
You felt Draco shudder beside you, and you couldn't tell whether the whine that came from his lips was from the pain he was undoubtedly in, or if he was simply trying to beg you not to say anything. You stood silently for a second, gauging the expressions of Voldemort as he stood before you, watching you hold Draco up all by yourself. You knew he wouldn't be able to stand on his own if you let him go.
But you couldn't sit by and watch the Dark Lord torment your white-haired boy next to you any longer. If it meant that Draco was protected, you couldn't stay silent. So you propped Draco up further, taking a breath and opening your mouth.
"The allegiance of the wand lays with me," you said lowly, and Voldemort's head snapped over to you, his eyes narrowing again. "The legend states that Death disguised himself as a wizard possessed by bloodlust, and that once he killed the eldest brother that asked for the wand, the allegiance of the wand transferred to the wizard that killed him—or technically, Death. But if someone disarms the wizard holding the wand, or kills the wizard who owns the wand, the allegiance of the wand will transfer to whoever disarmed or killed the one holding it. And because I killed Dumbledore, who owned the wand last, I am the rightful owner of the Elder Wand right now. Whether I want that responsibility or not."
Voldemort remained silent for a few moments too long. Your chest began to hurt from the breath you were inadvertently holding in, but you were too terrified to even try to let it out.
The dark wizard approached the two of you, Draco being held up mainly by you and your smaller frame, towering over the two of you and holding out the wand again. "Take it," he ordered, his voice dangerously low. You knelt down, lowering Draco to the floor before standing back up. You felt awful just leaving him lying on the floor beneath you, but you didn't exactly have a choice. You took the wand from the wizard standing before you with a shaky hand, something you knew did not go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. You only hoped he wouldn't punish you for your lack of faith.
Draco whined again at your feet, writhing around to try to speak again. "Please don't hurt her," he begged, his voice weak. You let out a shaky breath at hearing your boyfriend begging the way he was, and you knew nothing you could say would stop anything. If anything, it would only mean that Voldemort's wand would turn on you.
"Silencio," came the dark wizard's response to Draco's pathetic plea, causing the Slytherin boy to go completely mute. Still, you refused to look at him, knowing your resolve would crumble immediately if you dared to spare him a glance.
"Now, hold the wand more tightly, y/n," Voldemort ordered, and you tightened your grip on the wooden wand in your trembling hand. He backed up a couple of steps, bringing up his own wand, his eyes darkening until they were nearly black.
You shut your eyes, awaiting the spell that you knew was coming. The seconds ticked by, and they felt like hours to you. Even as Draco wrapped a weak hand around your ankle from his spot on the floor, silently begging you to run, you stayed frozen in your spot, refusing to put Draco in any more danger.
"Do you think you can avoid what's about to happen, y/n?" came his question, one that caused your tension to dissipate only slightly. You opened your eyes, looking over at the dark wizard, his arms crossed in anticipation of your answer.
"No," you responded simply. "I've come to terms with my fate. I only wish I could have realized what would happen. I could've done things differently, so that I would not have had to die."
Voldemort smiled then, and you couldn't tell if it was genuine or just happiness at the opportunity to kill someone else who stood in his way. You weren't sure if you wanted to know the difference. You'd seen enough of this man for a lifetime, if you were being honest with yourself.
"I'm glad Draco picked such a smart woman to stand by his side," the dark wizard said then. "It's a shame that I have to get rid of someone who's been of such great use to me."
And then Voldemort took a deep breath, and you braced yourself for the worst.
His mouth opened, and he spoke the last words you remembered.
"Avada Kedavra."