Blood dripped from his fingertips, slapping against the stone floor and flowing into the small drain on his cell floor.
He had to get out, had to find her. Even if it killed him, he wouldn't care. She was the only thing that mattered.
Draco didn't know how long he'd lived inside the prison of his own home. Only that his father locked him away after he saved her.
Her name was Laila, Laila Walker, a muggleborn Hufflepuff. Brown curly hair falling to her shoulders, beautiful olive skin, and doe-like eyes.
She was perfect, and she was in danger. Snatched by a deatheater and brought to Malfoy manner so Draco could kill her.
He didn't.
He'd raised his wand and stunned the two men holding her in front of him. Then threw her to a house elf, along with one of his jackets.
Laila had cried out, begging Draco to come with her, but Draco only sent her a pained smile before throwing another spell at his father.
The elf had stared at him wide-eyed but quickly apparated Laila and himself away. Draco was then hauled away into this cell, where he remained for however long it'd been.
Draco grunted as he sawed through the bars, his hands torn raw from the wire he used. Blood stained his hair, face, and clothes. You could barely tell who he was anymore.
Only one bar remained until he could squeeze his way through the gap. He'd organized a perfect plan.
As soon as a deatheater came down to throw him some old bread and musty water, he'd quietly squeeze through the bars and strangle them from behind.
With a rusty clang, the bar broke. Draco sighed in relief and gripped it with both hands, struggling against the iron as he pulled it free.
He heard the creaking of the gate open from the top of the stairs and readied himself to strike. He'd have one chance.
"I brought you some bread, traitor," A cold voice stated, descending the steps, his boots slamming against the stone.
Draco's blood turned icy. He knew that voice all too well.
Lucius.
Draco clenched his fists, inhaling quietly and slipping through the bar, swallowing harshly.
"It's not too late, Draco. You can still come back to us and forget that filthy little mud-" Lucius got cut off when Draco came up behind him and locked his arm around his father's neck.
The tray clattered to the floor, and Lucius' hands went to Draco's arm, desperately clawing at it.
Draco covered Lucius' mouth with his hand muffling his cries for help.
"I'm not sorry, father," Draco whispered, tightening his grip until he heard a sickening yet satisfying crack.
Lucius' body went limp, and Draco dropped the lifeless man to the floor, bending down to check his neck for a pulse.
Nothing.
Draco let a coy smile cross his lips. His days of abuse and torture were over, and the abuser lay dead on the floor.
Draco searched through his father's coat, grinning when he found his wand tucked inside the pocket.
He lifted the wand to examine it, shaking his head before grabbing Lucius' coat and shrugging it on. It was a little small, but it would do.
Draco slowly ascended the stairs, aching for freedom with every step. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun.
The open gate creaked as he pushed it, allowing him to slip by and into the hallway of Malfoy manor.
He covered his eyes as he adjusted to the light, tears stinging the corners. But his victory seemed to be in vain.
Narcissa Malfoy dropped her teacup at the sight of her son.
"D-Draco?" She stuttered, making the attention of the other deatheaters turn toward him.
Draco lifted Lucius' wand and smiled a bloody grin.
"Say hi to Lucius for me,"
"Avada Kedavra!" Draco hissed, hitting the deatheater on Narcissa's right.
The one on her left fired a spell at Draco, but he easily blocked it and killed her quickly, then shifted his gaze to his mother.
"You let him lock me in there,"
Narcissa's eyes were misty, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks, smearing her makeup.
"Draco-"
"How long was I in there, mother? Should I even call you my mother?" Draco spat, walking closer to her, wand still raised, revealing how battered he was.
Narcissa tried to start another sentence, but Draco thrust the wand into her neck, pushing her back.
"How long was I there?" He demanded again, blood dripping from his hands and onto the marble floor.
"Four months," Narcissa answered, swallowing thickly.
"Fuck you," Draco sneered, driving the wand further into her throat.
"Draco, I tried-"
"No, you didn't,"
Draco shook his head, scoffing at his mother and stepping back.
"You are not my mother,"
A sob left Narcissa's lips. She covered her mouth with her hands and fell to her knees, crying into her palms.
"You should be sorry," Draco said quietly, turning on his heel and walking down the hall, knocking over a vase on his way toward the front door.
He pushed open the doors, squinting at the sun and stumbling outside, laughing as he breathed the fresh air.
He knocked his head back, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked down the path. A tear fell from his eye, and he let it roll down his cheek, staining the grime.
Once he reached the gate, he pushed it open, stepping outside the grounds and dropping to his knees, burying his face in his hands.
He let himself cry for a moment but knew he'd have to leave quickly. His palms ached against the rocks as he struggled to force himself up, but he had to.
He stood, breathed deeply, and apparated himself.
-
Laila Walker slowly sipped her tea, looking out the window of her small cottage in the woods, where her family used to live before they died.
Lucius Malfoy killed them. The father of the boy she loved so deeply; had killed everyone she loved, first her parents, then her sister, then him.
She's only alive because of Draco. He sacrificed himself for her. She couldn't die. He'd be so disappointed. That's what kept her going in these dark times. Live for him.
She closed her eyes, a tear trickling down her cheek and into her teacup, but she didn't care.
Suddenly, from the corner of her eyes, she swore she saw a figure crawling from the woods. He was stained with dry blood and wore Lucius Malfoy's coat.
Anger flared in Laila's eyes. She grabbed her wand and ran outside, pointing it at the figure, shaking with rage.
"You!" She shouted, her voice laced with hatred.
The man looked up, his eyes bloodshot and broken, his hair disheveled, face caked with blood and grime, but it wasn't Lucius' face that stared at her.
It was Draco's.
"Draco," She whispered.
Laila dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into her, stroking his hair as he cried into her neck.
"You're alive," Laila sobbed, holding him close, weeping into his hair.
Draco couldn't form a coherent thought. He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying himself in her embrace and holding onto her tightly. Like she would disappear at any moment.
He felt finally calm in her arms like he could-
"Wake up, Draco,"
Draco snapped his head up, looking into her eyes with horror and confusion. He backed away, cocking his head to the side.
"What?"
"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to upset you-"
"No-no, what did you say?"
"Let's go inside?" Laila repeated, blinking at him.
"Oh, I thought you- never mind," Draco shook the thought away, but something was eating him up inside.
-
Laila helped him inside, leaving him at her small kitchen table while she ran him a shower.
Draco stared at his plate. The pieces of bacon on it seemed so foreign, seeing as he'd only eaten moldy bread for the past four months.
"Wake up!"
Draco spun his head around, holding his fork up behind him.
Laila held her hands up, stepping back.
"It's just me,"
Draco carefully lowered the fork, setting it on the table and clearing his throat.
"The shower's ready," Laila whispered, walking forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Draco nodded, pushing himself up and following Laila to the bathroom, glancing behind him skeptically.
And he could've sworn a pair of eyes locked with his.
The house was like he remembered, except Laila's parents weren't there, and neither was her baby sister.
Draco's heart sank. Mya was only ten. He tried to push the thought away, but it pained him to walk by her room.
"If you need me, yell. I put some of your old clothes on the counter," Laila said softly, smiling at Draco.
Draco nodded.
"Thank you,"
Even though he was safe and home, something felt off about Laila. Something felt off about everything. It wasn't right. He pushed that aside.
The fears are only in his head.
Only
in
his
head.
-
It took Draco 30 minutes to wash all the grime and blood off and another twenty just letting the hot water run over him.
After changing into the clothes, Draco exited the bathroom. All the lights in the house were off, and the door to Laila's room was barely open, a hazy light illuminating the hall.
He stepped toward the door, opened it, and saw Laila facing away from him, sitting on her bed, her hair pushed back.
"Laila?"
"Wake up,"
Draco froze, swallowing harshly and shutting the door behind him.
"Laila, I don't know-"
Laila stood up, turning around and walking toward Draco with a blank expression.
"I love you," She whispered, planting a chaste kiss on his lips before her hands clutched his face and his eyes rolled back.
-
"He's insane, Lucius. He's no longer alive," A voice whispered.
"He's fine," Lucius answered, his eyes locking on his son.
"You tortured him until he went mad!" Snape hissed at
Draco stared at the ceiling of his room, toying with his fingers and humming softly.
"I had to! He loved that little mudblood!" Lucius defended, narrowing his eyes at Snape.
"The only reason he lashed out is that you killed her in front of him!"
"Fine, I'll ask him what he wants,"
"Lucius-"
Before Snape could stop him, Lucius slammed the door and strode over to where Draco lay.
"Draco,"
Draco didn't respond. His eyes had a faraway look, and he stared blankly.
"I want to see Laila," Draco whispered in a moment of clarity, finally locking eyes with his father.
Lucius swallowed, clenching his wand and pointing it at Draco.
"I can make you see her,"
Draco smiled, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the mattress, ready to see her at last.
"Lucius! Stop!" Narcissa's voice begged from the other side of the door.
Lucius' hand trembled, he opened his mouth to say the spell, but no words came out.
"Father, please," Draco whispered. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek until it stained the white sheets.
Lucius took a deep breath, tightening his grip around the base of his wand and taking a step closer to Draco.
"I'm so sorry, son,"
"Avada Kedavra,"
The green light left his wand and hit Draco square in the chest. A sob came from the other side of the door as Narcissa realized what her husband had done.
Lucius tucked his wand inside his coat, looking down at his lifeless son, a small smile still standing on Draco's lips.
He was no longer a prisoner.
Not to Lucius.
Not to life.
And not to his own head.