Not to worry. You're only mostly dead.
~~~
(Draco's POV)
I heard y/n hit the floor before I was able to move around to see her body. The Elder Wand clattered to the white tile floor beside her, and I still couldn't say a thing. The Silencing Charm felt like cotton wrapping itself around my vocal cords, stopping them from cooperating. My heart had frozen in my chest the second I heard her body hit the floor, and by the time I sat up to look at her, I knew she was already dead.
I felt the Silencing Charm release me, finally, and that's when the guttural scream I'd been trying to get out for what felt like hours released from my body. It sounded horrifying, like I was the one who was being murdered. But no, it was my y/n, lying lifeless on the floor. It still hurt me to move, the effects of the Cruciatus Curse still making me regret my every move. But gathering y/n into my arms made me temporarily forget how badly I hurt, and I felt my hot tears streaming down my face as I pulled her limp body closer to my own.
Voldemort stooped down quickly, not even deeming it necessary to speak as he scooped the Elder Wand up off the ground. He smiled menacingly as he held it up, turning it over in his hands the same way he had done when y/n had handed it to me just a little bit before.
He turned back to the fireplace, stating "Incendio!" and I watched as the fire in the fireplace sprang to life once more, showering the room in a dim light all over again.
"That felt much better," he said quietly, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything in retaliation. Even as he turned back to me, his mouth twisting in disgust at the position I was in. Sitting on the ground, barely able to hold my own head up from the pain I was in, and yet I was cradling my dead girlfriend to my chest with all the strength I still had in me.
"Pathetic," he barked, even as he passed me by to exit the study. "Love is a weakness, Draco Malfoy. It would do you good to learn that sooner rather than later."
I didn't say another word to him. I knew that anything I said would be something the dark wizard would be very quick to make me regret, and I couldn't handle another round of the Cruciatus Curse. I barely held it together the first time, and that was because I had to try my best to not worry y/n too much. I barely noticed it when she threw herself over me, but I was still grateful that Voldemort hadn't turned his wand on her for a move that was fairly foolish. At least, he hadn't done it right then.
I heard his voice outside the study, and I strained to hear the words I knew he was most likely speaking to my mother.
"Narcissa, I have things to attend to," he said curtly. "I'll be back in around a week's time. Do not allow anyone but me or another Death Eater into your house."
"Yes, My Lord," came my mother's reply. Then, a few seconds later, I heard a loud crack, and I knew Voldemort had Apparated somewhere else. He was gone—for now.
She entered the room then, seeing me holding y/n's body. She sighed, glancing only briefly at my face, and I knew she could see the tear tracks on my cheeks. I couldn't even formulate her name, but it didn't matter. She was by my side in a matter of seconds, kneeling down to look over y/n.
I felt her start moving y/n out of my arms, and out of instinct my grip tightened. "No," I pleaded, the first word I'd spoken since I'd screamed so gutturally a few moments before. My throat was rough, both from screaming and sobbing over y/n's body, and the word hurt to even speak. "Don't take her from me," I begged.
"Quiet," my mother hissed, and I was taken aback by her calculated coldness. But she didn't reach for me again. She placed two fingers on y/n's neck, and I sucked in a deep breath as I realized she was checking for a pulse.
"I suspected as such," my mother mumbled. "He doesn't have a very good track record for actually finishing people off with that spell."
My tears halted at her words. "What do you mean? I-is she still alive?"
"Barely," came my mother's response. "Her heartbeat is very, very faint, but she is still mostly there. If you're quick, we can get her upstairs into the room Voldemort put her in when she came here—involuntarily—and I can do my best with some of the healing spells Snape taught me."
I moved to stand up with her still in my arms, but my legs buckled underneath me and I fell back down, dropping her to the floor beneath me with a sickening thud.
My mother looked back at me, her eyes softening as she remembered that I'd been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse not even twenty minutes beforehand. She bent down to gather y/n into her own arms, nodding back at me. "Follow me if you can, but if you can't, I'll be back down for you in a moment."
I was able to move after her, though, even though it was fairly slow and coupled with immense amounts of pain. I didn't want to leave y/n's side no matter what it meant.
Upstairs, my mother laid y/n down on the bed she'd spent a few days in during the school term just a few months before. She seemed so lifeless. I could barely even see her breathing, I couldn't tell if her chest was rising and falling or not. I trusted my mother though. She had seen the Dark Lord fail at using the Killing Curse once before—and while it was on a baby Harry Potter the last time, it was still likely that a Voldemort at less-than-full power would be weaker at the deadlier curses.
Not that the Cruciatus Curse hadn't done its damage, though. I knew I'd sleep for a while if I ever got to sleep that night.
I watched as my mother returned to the room with a black book in her hand, one I hadn't remembered ever seeing before. I sat on the floor by y/n's bed as my mother stood beside me, opening the book and raising her wand over y/n's body.
She began chanting spells in a language I didn't recognize—and I half-wondered why it had never been taught at Hogwarts. I realized with an air of annoyance that it was likely because Snape had never been allowed to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he'd been stuck as a Potions teacher for as long as anyone could remember. Maybe we'd know some of these healing incantations if Snape had been given the position he'd wanted.
But I didn't have too much time to pout about not learning the more advanced healing spells. I heard y/n cough, and I was on my feet in an instant. I didn't even feel any pain when I jumped up, it was only when I saw her eyes were still closed that I felt the aches creeping back in.
My mother sighed, closing the book and bringing her wand back to her side. "I've done all I can do right now," she admitted then. "We're going to have to wait and see if she pulls through."
My heart hammered painfully in my chest. "What do we do if she survives?" I asked.
My mother looked me dead in the eye, her mouth set in a grim line.
"You run."
~~~
It had been a couple of days since I'd seen y/n. I couldn't bear to go in there and see her the way she was, not knowing if I'd ever get to see her beautiful eyes again. I counted it as a fate worse than death if she didn't make it, having to go through life without her by my side.
I knew I'd caused her a lot of shit, and I meant a lot of shit. She didn't deserve any of it, and I knew she wouldn't have gotten into any of these situations if I'd just left her alone—but she drew me in. She drew in anyone she spoke to. She was eloquent, and funny, and kind. It wasn't really surprising that Potter had taken such an immediate liking to her. Even though she'd used him to make me jealous—and he'd fucking kissed her—I tried to put that thought out of my head.
Most of my time was spent pacing back and forth in the foyer. My mother had helped heal up most of my pain from the Cruciatus Curse with the same spells she'd used on y/n—or, at least, they sounded the same. I didn't recognize the language one way or another, she could've been saying them backwards for all I knew.
But I'd felt much better just a few hours later, and I'd taken to wearing a rut in the white tile floor of the foyer instead of lazing around.
I knew my mother was stressed, hell, it was pretty hard to relax at all during these times. We only had a few days left until Voldemort was supposed to return to the Manor, and y/n could not be here, alive, when he did. Even if she pulled through, if Voldemort returned and found out that we were keeping her here, hell would break loose.
I had to give my mother credit for the whole situation. I knew how she felt about y/n, but she still went out of her way to try to heal her. And while she looked like she was getting better every day, my mother was still chanting the same chants over her every day and continuing to do her best to help my y/n pull through. It made my heart a little warmer.
Finally, two days before Voldemort was supposed to return, y/n opened her eyes. The first thing she did was nearly cough up a lung, but it was just a blessing to see her conscious that I barely noticed how bad the coughing really sounded.
She tried to speak to me, but her voice came out in nearly a whisper. I put a finger to her lips to keep her quiet, then ran downstairs to tell my mother she was awake and to conjure up some tea for the poor girl.
"She's awake?" my mother asked, and I nodded emphatically. "She can't speak, but I'm going to make her tea so her throat feels better."
I didn't wait for my mother's response. I turned back around and ran into the kitchen to yell at our house elf to start the tea. I waited incredibly impatiently for the elf to finish, then I barked at them to start cleaning up the mess they'd made as I took the cup up to y/n.
She was sitting up in bed when I returned to the room, my mother standing beside her and looking her over.
"She seems, physically, to be in adequate shape," my mother said as she came around to take the tea from me and hand it to y/n. "This tea will help her voice, but I wouldn't expect it to be fully healed for another week or so."
I nodded, slightly upset that I wouldn't get to speak to her for so long, but I knew she could still listen. Which meant that I had plenty of time to explain to her the whole plan that we would need to enact so that neither of us ended up actually killed by the Dark Lord.
I communicated silently to my mother that she could leave, and thankfully, she took the hint and bade goodbye to y/n before exiting my room.
I turned to y/n, who had begun quietly sipping her tea, and sat on the foot of her bed.
"I know this is going to be a lot, but I just need you to listen, okay?" I asked, and she looked up at me and nodded.
I took a deep breath. "Obviously, Lord Voldemort tried to kill you a few days ago. He fully believes that you're dead. He has gone off on some official business of his own, and he will not be returning for a couple more days. The allegiance of the Elder Wand should lie with him now, but he cannot return to find you still alive, because that will mean the death of you, me, and my mother. My mother has told us that you should be okay to apparate, but that we need to pack our things and apparate into hiding tonight."
Y/N's eyes widened, but I had to continue.
"This means that until the war is over, even if I have to leave for a time and come back, you cannot communicate with anyone outside of me and my mother. You will go under a fake name to write to and from my mother. But everyone else—including Voldemort, including your family, including even my father—has to believe that you're dead."
Her eyes began to fill with tears, but I was quick to wipe them away. "I'm sorry that it has to be like this, but unless even your parents believe you're dead, Voldemort could force that sort of information out of them with a simple Legilimency spell. Dumbledore's dead, y/n, he's now the most powerful wizard that the Wizarding World has ever seen. He's a threat to every witch and wizard alive right now, and when it comes to you, I won't take chances anymore."
She sighed heavily then, nodding in acknowledgment. She downed the rest of her tea in one mouthful, then stood and began to look through the room for her things.
"I returned to your home last night to gather a lot of your things," I confessed. "Your room is almost bare now. I have put them in your suitcase after shrinking them with the Reducio spell. I plan to apparate to your home and tell your parents that we believe Voldemort killed you, and that we don't know where your body is because we think Voldemort simply kidnapped you and disposed of you somewhere. I know it will be gruesome, but you have to trust me if you want to stay alive."
She nodded again, and I knew it was killing her to not give verbal responses. But she simply couldn't. Her vocal chords were too strained.
"I will be back in an hour," I told her then. "Stay in this room, and don't come out of it until I come back."
She gave me a dismissive thumbs-up, and I put my hand at her neck to pull her in for a deep kiss, one I hadn't been able to give her in what felt like forever.
I pulled away, pressing one more soft kiss to her forehead. "Stay safe. I'll be back soon."
And I exited her room and Apparated away.
~~~
(Y/N's POV)
You were incredibly annoyed at the fact that your voice was simply—gone. You had so much you had wanted to say in response to the absolute word vomit that Draco had given you before apparating to tell your parents you were dead—and none of it had been able to come out.
You whirled around when your door opened again, half-expecting Draco to be back forty minutes earlier than expected—but instead it was Narcissa Malfoy that entered your room.
Her black dress was fit for a funeral; whose, you weren't sure. But it made you suddenly aware of the unfamiliar green dress you were wearing, and you wanted to shrink away from the cold stare of the hardened woman before you.
"In case you were wondering, yes, that was my dress," Narcissa said, obviously having noted your tugging of the skirt of the dress. "You didn't exactly come with a lot, but then again, I imagine you didn't plan on staying as long as you have."
You shook your head, still unable to verbally communicate.
"I know that you have done some very unfavorable things to my son," came Narcissa's voice then, and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes.
"But I can also see how much he would give up for you," she continued. "When he was home for those first few weeks after the school year ended, I could tell he was absolutely devastated. And even though I didn't want to admit it, I knew it was because he was without you and I no longer approved of you, which meant, at the time, that he couldn't go back to you no matter how much he wanted to."
You sat back down on the bed, thoroughly invested in what Narcissa was saying even though she was telling you how much she hated you. The dark-haired woman came a step closer, clasping her hands together in front of her as she continued to speak to you.
"But you have taken the Dark Mark to stay with him. You threw yourself over him in an attempt to protect him from the Cruciatus Curse. And you didn't try to stop the Dark Lord from using the Killing Curse on you even though you knew trying that would only condemn the both of you more."
You stayed unmoving, not wanting to break eye contact with the woman standing before you. You could feel her walls sliding down, and all you saw was a mother who simply cared for her son.
"What I'm trying to say, y/n, is that I know my son loves you. And even though the Dark Lord—and my husband—believe that love is a weakness..." She trailed off, looking out the window of your room, and you could just barely see the tears glistening in her eyes at the mention of the white-haired man who had been in Azkaban for nearly half a year.
"Even though they both believe that love is a weakness," she continued, clearing her throat and smoothing her already wrinkle-free dress out, "I will not stand in the way of you and Draco any longer."
You knew that that was not an official stamp of approval, but you also knew that was the closest you were going to get. So you nodded, unable to verbally express your gratitude for the sentiment, and Narcissa nodded back.
"If the two of you survive this war," she stated, her demeanor growing distant once more, "do not be surprised if he wants to hear wedding bells after that."
She did not wait for you to react to that statement; instead, she turned around and exited your room as quickly as she had come in.
You sat there in utter silence for another half hour, before Draco reentered the room with two bags. You assumed one held the tent and cots, or at least you hoped they did. You didn't want to sleep on the ground.
Draco smiled meekly at you as he reached out a hand to help you up off the bed.
"It's done," he said, and you knew he was talking about telling your parents you were dead. You nodded in defeat, hoping that your mother demanding you come home alone wouldn't be the last time you ever spoke to her.
You followed him out to the foyer, standing slightly awkwardly as he hugged his mother goodbye. She held his face in her hands for just a few moments, before begging him in a whisper, "Be safe."
He nodded once before taking your hand and guiding you out to the front yard, one of the bags in his hand, the other one in your hand, and your one free hand wrapped around his bicep so he wouldn't lose you in the apparation.
"You ready?" he asked quietly, reminding you of your father's one question every time you exited King's Cross Station after finishing up a year at Hogwarts.
You nodded, wondering if your voice would ever come back as he did so.
Then his wand flicked, and you heard a crack, and the Malfoy Manor was gone.