Everyone was watching in suspense as Voldemort and his followers started appearing on the bridge.
They all had the same question on their minds: what happened?
Draco guessed most of them knew already, considering the fact that Harry hadn't been spotted in a while.
They just didn't want to accept it, and to be completely honest, neither did he.
It hurt, watching them come into the courtyard, following him as cowards.
He felt embarrassed that the man he had admired for all his life had stooped so low as this, following a maniac, and for what? So that he could “restore the Malfoy name”?
The hope of doing that was lost the moment he committed to the Dark Lord in the first war.
He pitied the girl-weasel, watching her lash out as the Dark Lord announced The-boy-who-lived death.
He pitied the other weasels, as expressions of dread filled their faces, hell, he even felt an ounce of pity for the mud-, no not that word. The muggleborn.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Voldemort gave his little speech.
He only looked up completely when he heard the distant but very clear whisper of “Draco”.
Oh my god…
No way, absolutely no way was he doing this.
“Draco, come, don’t be stupid.” His father said.
He felt as though every eye was on him.
He knew they were waiting for the moment he turned their back on them and ran to his parents like a coward.
For a second he considered it. He really did.
But did he really want to? To stand by the side of a maniac like Voldemort.
Truth be told, no he didn’t. He absolutely did not.
Sure, he may have admired the Dark Lord growing up, due to his fathers tales of him that made him seem oh so wonderful.
He of course knew now that that wasn’t the truth.
He wouldn’t hesitate to torture or kill his own followers if they failed him once.
That alone was enough to send a shiver through him.
“No”, he answered.
The silence was sickening, he was now certain everyone was looking at him.
“Draco, you are being a fool, come here this instant!” His father said, now much clearer than before.
“No.” He answered back, in a much calmer manner than his father managed to. “I won’t join you Lucius.”
And oh how that must have angered him, cause barely five seconds later he found himself on the ground, after hearing his father, the person who was supposed to love and protect him cast the cruciatus curse on him.
His father's crucio was certainly painful, it felt as though he was being burnt alive, while also being stabbed in the back by a thousand daggers.
Though it wasn’t the same as the Dark Lord’s, or Bellatrix's crucio.
Voldemort’s was more painful, and it just generally felt more evil and cruel than his father’s.
Bellatrix’s was wild and uncontrolled.
It certainly matched her personality and unstable mindset perfectly.
He lay there, biting his tongue trying his best not to scream.
He felt blood form in his mouth.
He was uncontrollably scratching his arms like a wild animal, drawing blood.
Of course nobody tried to help him.
Who would?
It was silent in the air until he finally let it out.
A loud, and painful scream into the air.
He continued to scream and scream, he thought he saw someone throw up, though he couldn’t be sure.
The only reason he managed to keep himself from letting go of the tears that were prickling in his eyes was because of his upbringing.
“Malfoy’s don’t show weakness and Malfoy’s do not cry. Do not forget this Draco, it is important.”
It felt like it went on for ages, just pain, pain and pain. Never ending pain.
Until he felt the curse lift.
It was like a blessing from the God he knew the muggles believed in.
He was shaking uncontrollably, an after-effect of the curse that he knew fairly well at this point.
The death-eaters were laughing at him, laughing at his foolishness, at his pain.
“Draco!” He heard someone let out, someone who could only be recognised as his mother.
She looked devastated, but most of all, angry.
She looked so angry.
At her husband, at Voldemort, hell, she might even be angry at him!
He was certain she was about to attack her husband
until bloody Potter came back to fucking life. Again.
Him and his stupid luck.
Bless him.
Draco immediately got up and quickly began fighting off death-eaters as people began to retreat into the castle.
Draco was 98% certain he wasn’t gonna survive the fight, and to be honest, he was ready.
At Least he hoped he was.
Draco was not ready for the killing blow that would be cast upon him by his father.