CHAPTER I
CHAPTER I
The windows are rattling slightly with the wind pounding on the glass, Hermione Granger looked out to the dark, howling sky. Light crackling from the fireplace, showering the room with its warm glow. A stark contrast to the unforgiving cold outside.
They are currently in the Black manor, waiting for Harry’s arrival. Hermione is filled with guilt; she had been trying to explain to him in their letters, that it was better for him to know less. But she could tell Harry is getting impatient, and she doesn’t know what to do. Voldemort is back, the nightmare that had haunted them when they were mere children had just become their reality, and Harry had witnessed it first-hand.
Hermione looked back at the white-haired figure who is currently staring deep into the fire. Draco Malfoy, another direct witness to the return of Voldemort. He had saved Harry when he was taken by that cup along with Cedric Diggory, he had saved them multiple times during their years at Hogwarts. If it wasn’t for him, she doesn’t know where they would be at today, Hermione doesn’t know how he had always seemed so unfazed. The shadows casted on his face made him look so much older, and she sometimes wondered if he really was a teen like them.
The door opened, and Ron walked in, his face glum and serious, their eyes met with a silent agreement.
“Draco,” she paused, “I think it’s time we have a talk.”
Her gaze was met with stormy grey, and a deep rumble of thunder resounded in the far distance, Hermione shivered.
…
Chains swayed side to side, soft clinking echoed through the halls, it was dark and grimy. Grim is what he would describe it, thought Draco Malfoy, as he was led by two Aurors with chains clasping his hands. He was finally given the verdict of a dementor’s kiss, after nearly 6 months of his wonderful stay in Azkaban. A dingy cell in the deepest parts of that god forsaken hell, with black walls and bone-chilling screams. They finally remembered his sorry existence and decided to execute him.
“You are hereby, witness, to the fair trial of Draco Malfoy, scion to the fallen house of Malfoy.” The Wizengamot proclaimed. Draco didn’t hear a single thing the judge had said, he was in despair and regret was flowing through his veins like poison, slowly killing him.
“Do you admit your crime of killing one Albus Dumbledore, along with the crime of granting Death Eater’s entry to Hogwarts, in turn, endangering your fellow school mates? Among those Death Eaters including Bellatrix Lestrange, and Fenrir Greyback?” Draco remained silent. And the trial had continued.
They arrived at a metal door, and he was shoved into the room. Again, the walls are dark and grimy. He supposes the room where people die don’t necessarily needed cleaning. And he isn’t someone who would deserve a moderately clean dying space, and he really didn’t care anymore. Not after his parent’s death.
Father was sentenced to a permanent stay in Azkaban, he is as good as dead, and mother was killed by a lovely misfired Avakedavra. He remembered mourning for his mother, with father by his side. Then sitting across from his father, when they were allowed one last goodbye, neither of them had said anything.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, you will now be sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss. A merciful death, in lieu of a permanent stay in Azkaban, for your crimes.”
On the bright side, he’s about to meet his parents, well, perhaps his mother. How exciting, Draco thought dryly. He loved his parents, but he hoped there wasn’t anything after death. Draco was angry at them, to say the least, for letting him be in this situation at all. If it wasn’t for them supporting Voldemort, they wouldn’t be one of the dark families, the families that everyone had no qualms in degrading and spitting at. While in the older times they are powerful and rich, it all burned to ashes when the savior of the wizarding world came crashing down in the form of a crying toddler. They have been reduced to nothing. A scum under the feet of those once below them. His shoulders sagged impossibly lower.
But he still loved them, even after realizing the hypocrisy of his family’s value and how his father isn’t who he pretended to be…
He came back into reality to realize he is on a raised platform in the middle of the room, he’s knees buckled with a kick from behind and he knelt down heavily and painfully on the floor. His malnourished body sagged with all his weight, and his head was limp and hanged with greasy overgrown hair covering his vision.
The room was now empty all except for him, then he felt the chilling sensation of despair whenever a dementor is present. And he raised his head to face the deadly hollow eyes of the specter, for a moment he felt nothing. He couldn’t even feel the fear of dying, a fear he thought he would never get over within the walls of his own house, now he was too numb from reality. But he could feel his life slowly fade away, bit by bit, colder and colder. Until all that is left of Draco Malfoy is a soulless body, and strangely, he is fine with that. The corner of his lips twitched into a ghost of a smile, and he spread his arms and welcomed death like an old friend, for isn’t that what they are?
…
Draco Malfoy, executed on 1999 August 30th