Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Draco was shocked.
Horrified even.
He didn’t think that Papa’s idea of the ‘worst case scenario’ was realistic. He thought that they would get through it. Persevere through all the hardships… But he was wrong.
Everything just suddenly went from bad to worse.
It was not just the fact that both his parents, the one he loved and the one he loathed, didn’t survive the battle of Hogwarts. That was something he subconsciously expected. He was realistic after all.
But being bed-ridden for months was definitely not on his to-do list. However, he couldn’t just receive another’s magical reserves and continue walking so to speak. After months passed and his recovery was no closer he began to suspect… he was accepting too much power for just inheriting Lucius’s magic.
Although he didn’t defeat Voldemort. Potter did. If anyone inherited the Dark Lord’s power it should have been Potter. The victor takes it all after all.
But Potter was dead. Permanently. And Draco was the Dark Lord’s closest living relative that had stupidly participated in a ritual for receiving their deceased parents’ power.
And all that power was now tearing him apart.
He knew that the British Ministry was looking for him. After all the ‘compensation’ they received from his ‘father’ was non-existent. They wanted more.
They would get nothing.
It would all be over soon enough.
He could feel it.
He was dying.
***
When he closed his eyes for what he felt like was the final time, he didn’t expect to wake up. At all.
But he did.
And he was a newborn. A Changeling…
And while he couldn’t understand what was being said at the time, he could revisit the memory later. Much later. When he knows the language. He didn’t learn to Occlude for nothing after all.
But one thing he knows for certain is that in this life he is on his own. The woman, his new mother is resigned. She has no fight left in her. Her only feelings towards him are a sense of duty. He knows exactly what parental love looks like and the look in her eyes isn’t it.
The man is a harder one to decipher.
His solemn poker-face makes him difficult to read. But he is most definitely not happy about the little bundle of joy that is myself. Oh well…
You can never have it all.