Prologue
It was May 2nd, 1998 on the night that I died.
I hadn't awoken that morning and fully expected to die, but who ever does?
I remember carrying a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach the whole day. I knew that today was the day that a life-changing battle would commence and change history. Everyone knew that today's date would be spoken and written about for centuries to come.
The entire strategy was born and planned meticulously in my own house, by my own family and the entity that all they worshipped. The Dark Lord of course.
I was hesitant, deep down I always felt that my side would be the losing side. But the biggest flaw in that logic was that I wasn't even sure which side I was truly on.
Here I had blood and loyalty, but on the opposite team I had.. well I had her.
She hated me by then of course, and she couldn't be blamed for that it was only a natural response to finding out that I had lied to her for the last two years about who I really was and what I was capable of. I'll never be able to forget the look on her face as she trained her eyes on to the harsh, protruding mark on my arm that labelled me as the vermin I am.
The dark mark.
The echoes of her sobs have latched themselves to my soul, and even here in the afterlife I still hear them. I heard a heart break that day, loud and clear.
The date to the day that she told me that she never wants to be reminded that I exist again was almost four months before that fateful night in May.
By then I was so numbed and incognisant that I almost wished to die when everything exploded in to mayhem, I just wasn't aware that wishes really do come true sometimes.
That was almost three weeks ago now, and I've wandered the castle aimlessly ever since. The strange thing about the afterlife that nobody ever tells you is that it isn't just a one stop for all.
Spirits and souls reside at different frequencies, the eviler you were the lower your frequency; making it harder for you to make any meaningful connection with the living world again. You could be face to face with someone and screaming and they would never have a clue.
I think that's sort of how the natural order of things punishes you in the most passive yet effective way ever. The cleaner souls had a much easier time forming an apparition or making contact with physical things or people.
It flared a jealousy in me that I hadn't even felt when I was still alive, and that was often; well because I am or for a better phrasing was.. Draco Malfoy.
But here I'm just another casualty of a war that I helped manufacture, trapped amongst the walls that I tried to help tear down. I'm stuck in the same clothes, with the same marks left behind from the fires and falling rubble as it bruised my skin and I'll always be eighteen years old now, forever.
I've roamed and watched people that I knew, people that I loved and people that I hated all begin to heal slowly. Some had left to return home, others who were orphaned or widowed by the Wizarding war left with no choice but to continue calling the damaged castle home.
That included her, my y/n.
She was, is, the most fierce and brilliant person that I ever knew. Except I realised it just a little too late and by then I was already bound and tethered to my responsibilities as a death eater. It was the only way to keep my family alive, and I succeeded in that at least; mother and father are alive still and no doubt thoroughly distraught.
But I'm glad they don't have to worry about me anymore in a way, I don't think I ever quite lived up to their grand expectations. So now I suppose they can wipe the slate clean and keep the family name upheld to a satisfactory degree.
Besides, they can pin all of their new hopes now on to their new heir.
Yeah that's right, I am going to be.. was going to be a father. It was a surprise to me too I will admit, and I only found out at the very last minute of my life.
Every single student, teacher, acquaintance and death eater alike all braced in what seemed like it might be the last stand-off in the courtyard of the castle. Harry Potter was dead in Hagrid's arm, I was stood amongst the crowd on the pretence that by now y/n was probably dead anyway. Hundreds had already perished.
So when my mother called for me across the open space, although I searched around for at least one pair of eyes to fix on to mine and convince me not to go, none did.
I would of stayed, I know that I would of. It would of only taken one person to believe in me in that moment there and then and I would of turned on everything I had ever known. It didn't matter if y/n hadn't survived or not, I still would of done the right thing.
But I knew I wasn't welcome when not even the most forgiving of people didn't even offer me a whisper or a glance. I stood out like a black sheep amongst a herd of white.
My own fault of course, yet a stupid part of me deep down hoped that someone else could realise how much pain I was in at my predicament. It went unnoticed of course, as usual.
So I made my way down the steps and through the people that parted like water, more than happy to watch me have to reap what I sow. I had spent the last seven years of my life burning those bridges and spending my last chances.
And I was received on the other side like a hero, straight back in to the arms of the wicked. I didn't feel like a hero though, I felt empty; like my life had been wasted. Unbeknownst to myself that it was true because any minute now it was due to come to an end.
Cackles and cheers erupted as it was announced that Harry Potter was indeed dead, rousing screams and cries from the opposing team at our divine victory. That was until a sword was drawn and Potter fell from Hagrid's arms and on to his feet like a miracle.
Just like that he was a walking, talking, moving ghost. Except he wasn't, he was alive.
Time seemed to slow to a blur, everything passed by in still snapshots. And then another unbelievable miracle happened, one that made my heart explode in to a state of ecstasy as I heard my name from afar.
Y/n had pushed herself through a line up of weary and broken soldiers, heaving and panting for breath and looking rather peaky. It was the first time I had seen her in four months and I had almost forgotten how much I was in love with her.
She kept shouting and screaming my name, begging me to run back to her and fight for the right reasons. Offering a silent forgiveness if I renounced it all for her.
That was when my eyes fell to her hands, they were cradling a little protrusion in her jumper. It wasn't very big but I knew instantly what it was. And it all made sense why she was missing, she had been hiding and for a good reason.
There was another life at risk and not just her own if she joined the war happening just above her.
My feet were moving before my mind could even comprehend it, I had made my decision before I could even recognise it.
Had this have happened to me under different circumstances and at a different time, I've no doubt that I would of bust a nerve and told her to get rid of it. Teen pregnancy just wasn't on my list of ambitions. But this is now, under these circumstances and I was surprised that I'd never wanted something more.
It was hope for something new.
"Potter!!!" I shouted as I aimed for the best possible throw I could muster, my wand leaving my grasp and falling comfortably in to Harry's as he shot spells at Voldemort's snake.
And just like slow motion I continued my race to her as she continued to call my name over and over again, although the last time I heard it.. the inflection in it turned to horror and a high pitched scream.
That's when I felt it too, a green light strobed right through me like lightening as it left the Dark Lord's wand. My vision blurred, heart stopped beating and gravity took the win as the cold concrete kissed my face upon impact.
And just like that, I was dead.
Because I had chosen to make the ultimate sacrifice, not for myself or for anyone else except her and whoever she was holding warm and safe inside her belly.
It worked because they won. The only side that mattered from that second on.
That split second.
My death happened three weeks ago on May 2nd, 1998. And I don't regret it, because now she's safe, even if she doesn't know that I stay by her side and watch her every single second as she remains within the castle with the other nomads.
I just wished that she could see me, feel me, hear me or touch me.
At least then she would know that I didn't leave her all by herself to do this alone. Because I am still here, and I won't ever leave.
But that's just the price you pay for claiming your redemption just a fraction too late.