Week Four - Pride
“The time has come for you to declare yourselves.” The Dark Lord’s voice, high and cruel, carried across the courtyard, sending chills down Draco’s spine. The snake, Nagini, slithered around her Lord’s dirty bare feet. Behind them, the great oaf carried Potter’s limp body and placed it lovingly on the ground as a fat tear rolled down his cheek.
Immeasurable disappointment squeezed at Draco’s heart — fucking Potter had to go and die and ruin everything.
Draco frantically scanned the crowd for a big head with wild brown hair. He hadn’t seen her since the disaster in the Room of Requirement.
“Join us,” The Dark Lord cried, arms spread wide in an offering of twisted peace.
No one moved.
Draco spotted his parents among the Death Eaters surrounding The Dark Lord, firmly on his side. At the sight of them — filthy and fallen as they were — Draco was struck, frozen in his conflicting feelings of relief and disdain.
Lucius raised his arm, beckoning discreetly for Draco to join them. His long blonde hair hung around his gaunt face in greasy clumps, grey eyes sunken into his skull. Gone was the man who had so proudly been a product of centuries of breeding for power, money, and beauty, and instead this husk stood in his place, determined to ruin his family along with him.
Draco took a steadying breath, refusing to cross the courtyard like his father wanted. The stench of smoke lingered on his robes, burning his nostrils, and reminding him of fear and fire. His stomach turned, and he closed his mouth, swallowing hard to keep from gagging.
“Draco, come,” his mother commanded, breaking the eerie silence, eyes bright and beseeching.
His heart gave another squeeze, and he allowed his eyes to close with it. He didn’t want to disappoint his mother.
But Draco had to make a choice, and this time, he was finally choosing what he wanted — Granger.
A warm hand slid into his, and Draco’s eyes flew open. There she was, battered but beautiful beside him, searching his eyes imploringly.
He nodded, squeezing her hand, and Granger smiled at him, despite everything, dark eyes shining with pride and love.
“It seems young Mr. Malfoy has made the wrong choice,” The Dark Lord mussed, distracted, and Neville Longbottom took the opportunity to chop Nagini’s head off with a fucking sword.
Then Potter, the stupid git, stood up.