Chapter 8 Draco
Chapter 8 Draco
Draco woke the next morning with a restlessness in his bones, he hadn’t slept well. Thoughts of Dudley wouldn’t leave his head. Mulling over the possibilities, Dudley seemed to genuinely not know what was behind the wall in his Mind. Draco had tried approaching the problem from every direction but he couldn’t see a way out of this for Dudley, either they unlocked his secrets and killed him, or they didn’t manage to unlock his secrets and he lived in the dungeons until they grew bored and killed him anyway. If Draco found a way out of the manor for Dudley it would mean death for them both if they were found out, which they would be. Draco lay in his bed flicking through memories trying to find the moment when he had chosen this life, chosen to be a death eater. He couldn’t find one. Draco had just gone where is parent had led him. Lots of tiny little decisions that had taken him farther and farther down this path. He made those choices he couldn’t deny it. That fact shamed him. Draco imagined an alternative life where he’d been born into a modest half blood household, friends with mudbloods, trips to Diagonal Alley, sorted into Hufflepuff, a father who taught him to fly in their back garden and a mother who read to him at night, a home filled with blankets, tea and home cooked meals.
It was a form of torture that Draco liked to put himself through periodically, imagining his alternative life, he would escape there when he needed to.
Draco heaved himself up and got dressed. He’d laid in bed for far too long, his lower back slightly aching. Once he was up and awake he felt the overwhelming need to check on Dudley. His father was out today and his mother would be squirrelled away in her rooms as usual. Draco grabbed some fizzing whizzbies from under his bed, then went over to his bookcase, Dudley must be bored. Most of Draco’s books were magic. Textbooks, wizarding biographies, fiction, he had one shelf of muggle literature. His parents didn't approve of anything muggle in their home, they either didn’t know about this shelf (they rarely came into his bedroom) or they had chosen not to care. He perused the shelf before picking up Frankenstein. He was about to leave when he quickly turned back and picked up The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Dudley might want something a bit lighter. Draco left his room and walked quickly down the corridor, the walls were covered in green wallpaper and peppered with portraits of Malfoy ancestors, some dozing in chairs others pottering around their paintings and chatting to one another. Dudley turned a corner and found his father walking towards him.
‘Morning’ Draco said
‘Draco’ his father returned
‘Where are you going?’ Lucius inquired
‘Just breakfast, what about you?’ Draco lied.
‘The dark lord had asked me to collect Bellatrix and Snape. He’s organised portkeys for them because of the anti apparition charms outside the manor, he wants me to brief them on the muggle before they arrive’
‘They’re coming today?’ Draco felt his bones turn to Ice.
‘They’ve been finishing their previous assignments, but yes they’re arriving this afternoon. Hopefully the dark lord will have his answers from the muggle before the day is out’
‘Okay’ was all Draco could manage in reply.
Lucius nodded and continued past.
Draco stood still until his father had turned the corner before apparating directly into Dudley’s cell. He had planned to knock, to warn Dudley of his arrival but he couldn’t afford to waste any time, he had to tell Dudley as soon as possible. It was silly the panic he felt. Panic for a muggle he barely knew. Someone he was supposed to hate.
‘Dudley?’ Draco was breathing hard when he arrived in the dungeon with a crack. Draco found Dudley in the corner, curled in on himself, tears escaping his puffy eyes. Dudley’s breaths were quick and shallow.
‘Dudley?’ Draco asked again walking closer.
‘Stop!’ Dudley Insisted.
‘Please don’t come near me’ Dudley cried, meeting Draco’s eyes.
Draco stilled instantly.
‘Sorry’ Draco said and Dudley stole his eyes away from Draco’s and continued to stare at the empty wall.
‘Are you okay?’ Draco asked
What a fucking stupid question Draco chastised himself.
‘Listen, Dudley?… Dudley?’
Dudley tore his eyes away from nothing looking at Draco like it was painful.
‘My dad…’ Draco continued and Dudley winced.
‘… he’s gone to get Snape and Bellatrix, they’re coming this afternoon. I-I just.’ What? What was he doing? It’s not like he could protect Dudley. What was the point in warning him. His haste seemed suddenly completely pointless.
‘… I just wanted to warn you.’
Dudley looked away again, saying nothing.
Something had happened. Draco felt so much guilt, he was drowning in it. He wanted to get Dudley out, away from this cursed house. Save him if he could. If it was the only good thing Draco ever did. Draco hadn’t led a good life. He knew that one good thing couldn’t make up for a lifetime of bad, but it would at least be something. One good thing. Just one good thing. Every way Draco approached the problem, every scenario he dreamt up ended in death. There was nothing. Nothing he could do. Draco wanted to fall to his knees and grovel, ask his forgiveness, make Dudley promise to forgive him and tell him he wasn’t all bad. He’d never wanted anything more than for Dudley not to hate him. Draco placed the sweets on the floor, he picked up Dudley’s glass and refilled it. Then Draco looked down at the two books in his hands. He placed Frankenstein on the floor. Then he turned back to the far wall and placed himself on the floor. Draco opened The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and began to read aloud. It was all he could think to do. Give Dudley a place to go that wasn’t here. Even if it wasn’t real.