February 1998
Draco felt as though there was some sort of gaping hole within him. It was uncharacteristic, considering how he had always felt himself whole for the person he, well, was. The person he is now is a completely different matter.
There was some kind of empty space within him that he couldn't quite fill. Back then, it was easy to make himself feel better. He'd simply find the slightest joy in bullying some innocent first year, or making snide remarks towards Weasley and whatever stupidity Potter and his gang were up to. He was filled to the brim doing that, and it made him whole. But now that he had experienced—and is still experiencing it—the very same thing that he had been doing to other people in the past, he was beginning to question whether or not anything that he's ever done before is justifiable now.
Today, he was regretting those very childish decisions now that he was in their shoes—except ten times worst.
The months dragged on at Hogwarts, making the castle a desolate home to bouts of torture and excruciating pain. He did not revel in the torturing the way the Carrows or his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, do. Not when he himself had witnessed it unforgivably done to his father, not when he'd dream of it happening to himself, not when he watched the aftermath of such happen to Astoria. He left the "fun part" to his friends, and though it was against everything he had to publicly hold, he would find himself making Prefect rounds just to keep innocent students off the hallways lest the Carrows get to them too.
It was short of bravery, but it was the least he could do. Hogwarts was no longer a home to them. The place had turned into a living nightmare.
Draco inhaled the cold, winter air of February as he stood before the railings of the Astronomy tower. A part of him was certain he never wanted to come back up here, considering what had happened in this very tower. But it was the only place farthest from the tortures, farthest from the Carrows, and perhaps, even farthest from reality.
He had taken to coming up to the tower very recently for it had given him some temporary relief from everything that's been going on.
"Come up here to be broody again?" Someone asked with humor in their voice.
Draco turned to see Astoria glide towards him, clad in her uniform and a green jumper, her hands behind her back.
It's been two months since Astoria's dreadful fate with the Carrows. But time was everyone's enemy, it seems, for he knew that Astoria hasn't exactly fully recovered from her injuries. She was still pale at times and constantly needed blood-replenishing potions, and would often require bed rest more than what was normally necessary. She was also still quite frightened to be touched except by her sister, Daphne. Some part of his resolved seemed to shatter at that thought, for he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and protect her from the cruelty of the world.
And yet, wasn't he part of that cruelty? Would allowing himself that privilege simply be another way to hurt Astoria?
He shook the thoughts away as he watched Astoria take the place beside him on the railing, her green eyes sweeping the fields of Hogwarts before them. While he found her paleness normal these days, something in her seemed to have changed, and he was almost certain it's not just because of the Carrows now. He found that she would often fold in on herself, keeping Draco from knowing more; which was odd. She had always been so open about her emotions. But this time, meddled with what happened with the Carrows and what other thing that seems to be bothering her, he was starting to lose sight of the Astoria she was.
"I don't brood," Draco mumbled lowly, hugging his winter coat closer to him as his eyes shifted towards the fields covered in snow. Everything looked dreadful from up here. There were hardly any stars in the sky. If there were, it was being covered by some gloomy fog Merlin knows where it was coming from. "I just like to listen to the quiet."
He heard a slight snort come from Astoria, causing Draco's lips to curl just slightly.
"Listening to the quiet is not what concerns me," Astoria said. "The fact that you revel in the quiet now is what does."
"There's the Astoria I know and love," Draco replied playfully then turned to look at her. "Where has she been?"
Astoria seemed to stiffen at his question, and he regretted it immediately. He didn't mean to trigger some part of her torture from the Carrows, only to question the other part that seems to be bothering her. He wanted to jump off the astronomy tower now for being so insensitive, but when he saw Astoria release a breath, he held his ground.
"Draco, you need to stop walking on eggshells around me," Astoria declared before looking up to meet Draco's gaze, looking determined. "I'm not some delicate flower you need to worry about."
Draco steeled himself. "I know that. I just didn't... I'm just afraid I might say something that would bring you back. Like what I said earlier."
Astoria shook her head. "I appreciate it, truly. But I've already got a sister who keeps fussing over even the slightest cold around me. I was hoping I'd have some release from that with you. You were never afraid to be bold around me."
"Things change, I suppose..." Draco trailed off. He pursed his lips to keep himself from blurting out the questions he's been asking himself for nearly a month now. But he supposed he needed a sticking charm to do that, because he did blurt out his curiosities. "Is there something that's been bothering you lately? Other than, you know... the Carrows and everything else?"
At his query, Astoria blinked at him owlishly. Perhaps she hadn't been expecting him to ask. But she did say that he shouldn't walk on eggshells around her. He was simply doing what she asked.
After recovering from his question, Astoria seemed to come to terms with herself, but he could see her hands tremble as they held onto the tower's railing. He pinched his brows together in worry, though before he could say his apologies, she spoke.
"I just learned something very recently..." Astoria started before she bowed her head, her hands coming together at her front to fidget with her sweater. "And I'm not quite sure how to come to terms with it."
Draco hummed in understanding. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Astoria raised her head now, looking quite surprised but recovered fast when she nodded slowly.
And so Draco listened.
She told him about pensieve memories she's seen in the Headmaster's office, its connections to her weak immune system and the Greengrass family tree. It was a lot to process, but he managed to get the gist of everything to it. And when Astoria showed him the last vial, he couldn't help but stare at it eagerly. It looked very old compared to the vials most witches and wizards possess these days. And though the silver memory within looked pale, it danced rather dangerously.
"Why haven't you tried to look at it?" Draco asked, his gaze shifting between Astoria and the vial. "You have all the answers in that single vial. Don't you want to know?"
"I do." Astoria insisted before sighing. "But I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to do so just yet. I mean... this vial could very well hold the reason why I'm so sickly. Luna and I... we've talked about theories before, ones beyond the norm even of muggle theories. I'm just hoping it's none of them, considering how all those theories just sound, well, dreadful."
Draco remembered the last time he spoke to Luna Lovegood. The Ravenclaw had voiced the theory that Astoria may have been cursed in some way. But he would rather not say that out loud. Astoria asked him not to walk on eggshells around her, not blatantly drive her away from him.
Perhaps he should look into more dark curses if that was the case. It wouldn't be the first time he's had a fascination for the dark arts. At the very least this time, it won't be for selfish reasons.
"And with everything that's been happening lately..." Astoria seemed to go on, causing Draco to snap out of his reverie. "It's too selfish to do it. There are more important things."
Draco opened his mouth before he snapped it shut abruptly. He wanted to ask her what could be more important than her own health, but then he remembered that he was talking to Astoria. She had always been so selfless, putting other people's needs above her own. It wouldn't hurt to be a bit selfish, he supposed he should probably say, but went against it.
"Then when do you plan on seeing it?" Draco asked carefully. If it had been him, he'd have marched up to Snape's office to view that blasted memory, everything else be damned.
"I suppose after all of this is over." Astoria waved a hand in a semi-circle before frowning. "Or however way it ends."
He felt his body tense up at that thought. If he was being frank, he didn't know how it was all going to end. And though he would never say it out loud, he wanted it to end with Voldemort being taken away from this world forever. There were lines he certainly did not want to cross when it came to his morality. This was one of them.
Draco could only nod in response now. He then faced the field before them, hugging his coat even closer when a breeze blew harshly toward them.
"Draco..."
He hummed absent-mindedly, eyes still set blankly on the horizon.
"How are you?"
This made Draco turn his head towards her. "What do you mean?"
Astoria met his gaze. "I mean how are you? How's... how's your family?"
It felt like the world was caving in on him, but he swallowed his nervousness. This was just Astoria, after all. He can trust her with his very life. But there was some resistance to his need to tell her. A part of him feels as though he was unfair to her. She could sit there and pour her heart out, but he didn't feel like having that particular privilege. He didn't like the thought of talking to just about anyone about what's been happening in Malfoy Manor.
"You wouldn't want to know." Draco offered with a shake of his head. "It's a dreadful conversation topic."
Astoria's lips lifted into a brilliant smile. He was taken aback by it. He still needed to get used to her ability to shift from one emotion to another.
"Try me." Astoria offered, determination set in her eyes.
And he did.
March 1998
The gaping hole within him seemed to have surpassed beyond what was first simply a large hole. That hole grew and grew until it consumed his entire being. It's what Draco felt as the Dark Lord made him watch the murders of witches, wizards and goblins alike from Gringotts.
What was one the shiny, polished home of Malfoy Manor became a den for repulsive Death Eaters and home to the murders of more witches and wizards than he could count with his fingers and toes. The marble floors of the drawing room were drenched with blood, and he could not discern whether it was from the wizards or goblins. But it didn't matter as the blood mingled together into a metal-like stench that made him feel woozy.
His stomach wanted to fall in and out of itself at the sight and the smell that permeated the air. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes as the last wizard fell onto the floor like a puppet having been cut off its string. If he closed them, it would be the end of him.
He has seen many murders occur, few that meant anything to him, but they all became a permanent part of his memory he couldn't quite erase. Every time he saw the light leave the eyes of those unfortunate to be at the receiving end of that elder wand, he felt the gaping hole within him grow more and more until it consumed him. Like it had consumed him today.
The Dark Lord whirled to meet Draco's gaze. His flat nostrils flared angrily, hands stained with blood as the hand that held the elder wand shook violently. Violent red eyes glared at Draco, and he had to hold himself together. If Voldemort wanted to read his mind, it would be almost useless. Even the "greatest wizard" known to man has his limits.
"I see your son has learned Occlumency quite well." Voldemort's voice came out in rasped, harsh breaths, addressing Draco's parents who stood beside him. His mother was at his side, trying to shield him from the killing curses that had flown out of the Dark Lord's wand so easily.
With an air of threat around him, he glided towards the family, red eyes searching each Malfoy face. When it at last landed on Draco's face, the Dark Lord's lips curled into an almost menacing smile.
"Lucius, have this mess cleaned up," Voldemort ordered, even as he stared at Draco directly. "I'd like to have a word with your son."
Draco suddenly wished to join the bodies of those littered about the drawing room. He had never been in a room with the Dark Lord alone. Whenever he was addressed, either his parents or aunt were with him or he was accompanied by other Death Eaters. Gooseflesh dotted his skin at the thought of having to go through it alone. He racked his brain for anything that would have caused him the misfortune of having to speak with the Dark Lord without company. He couldn't come up with anything, though it was mostly out of the fear that seemed to rattle him to his very core. Would this be the end of him?
"My lord—" His father seemed to sense Draco's very fear of the thought of death coming so soon, because he risked stepping a toe out of line.
"Don't worry, Lucius. I won't harm the boy." Voldemort said, answering their worst fear. "If he behaves."
Draco swallowed before he felt the Dark Lord's cold hand encase his wrist, dragging him out of the drawing room in a vice-like grip. He didn't dare to look back and beg for his mother's help. Looking weak will only make the circumstance even worst for him.
By the time they were out of the drawing room, the Dark Lord hauled him towards a different room. This was more the receiving room of guests and the like. The place was similar to that of the one they came from, only this one had a little less blood on the floors and dead bodies sprawled about.
His body jolted in the slightest when he heard the double doors close behind him. The Dark Lord released his grip, giving Draco only the slightest bit of relief. He was far from being safe just yet.
Voldemort's dark gaze swept toward Draco, causing an icy shiver to run down his spine.
"I would trust very few with such an important task, Draco," The Dark Lord started almost softly, but it did nothing to ease Draco's tension since the wizard still held the elder wand to him like a second skin. "And since you seem to be the only one in your family capable of anything proper, I need to designate you with this lest you want your family to perish."
Draco's eyes widened into saucers, but he was immediate in his response. "I shall do whatever you wish me to, my lord."
The Dark Lord leaned back in the slightest, assessing Draco coldly. "Perhaps some additional incentive will be of use."
"My lord?" Draco asked deftly, but he could feel the earth consume him.
"I have been told that a certain Greengrass girl has been of interest to you lately." Voldemort started. Draco's body froze despite his need to look unbothered by it. He could remember flashes of dreams he's had of Astoria being under the unmerciful glare of the Dark Lord. His emotions seemed to have showed because he saw the Dark Lord's lip curl wickedly. "I see. Well, she needn't be harmed if you simply do what I wish you to."
If there was anything Draco feared worst than losing his life, it was losing Astoria's. It had been one of his more hidden fears, as far as hidden went when he tried to rid himself of the thought of Astoria during his Occlumency lessons with his aunt. Back then, she had become a barrier to everything that he needed to do to accomplish the Dark Lord's task. He had also feared that if he knew of her, it would be the end of Astoria as he knew it. And now that he did, a part of him almost wanted to fight back. But he was not a fool in the face of adversity.
Even if he did want to fight back, he knew he was not powerful enough. Or at least he thought he wouldn't be. If he could do what the Dark Lord asks, he will leave Astoria untouched. And although Draco couldn't fully trust him not to hurt her, what other choice could he possibly have?
Suddenly, his family was not the only thing he was prepared to lose.
He stiffened his resolved and shifted the look on his face. He didn't want to look too unbothered by it, but he didn't want to look like he was begging to keep Astoria's life. His features shifted into that cold, Malfoy look that beamed with pride of the highest caliber. He didn't do it to make his father proud anymore. He has done one too much of that, and he simply couldn't find the heart to do anything to please him after what he had put their family through.
This time, he would not do it for him. He would do it for her.
"I am prepared to be at your bidding, my lord."
Fanfiction Writing Month – August: 3,092 words
Dragon Breeding Club: Marcus – Peruvian Vipertooth
AN: Okaaaay, Voldemort. Stay the heckity heck away from Draco! D: Nothing gets past this noseless son of a gun, not even the purest thing left in Draco's life ahhhh. Buuut, I would also like to say my utmost apologies for not having a chapter out in July! Things have been super crazy with job hunting and partly because I just joined like two writing forums which has kept me occupied for some time. My goal is to post at least two or three chapters of this fanfic within the month, so fingers crossed that that happens.
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed reading, and don't forget to let me know your thoughts in the reviews!
EMPG22HoPe