Draco
3: Draco
During the course of the war, Harry and I became very close. After all, we had a lot in common, being forced in this war by the main ‘leaders’ of each side, albeit on opposite sides.
To say I fell in love with him during the war would be incorrect. Because I was already in love with him. From the moment I saw those green eyes that so closely resembled the killing curse I knew he would be my demise.
And I wasn’t wrong. He was killing me. Slowly. Day by day, every moment of being away from him was like a knife stabbing me with every breath I took.
‘Why don’t you go to him?’ They ask. ‘You were on the right side, no?’
Ah, but that’s where it all went wrong…
The wizarding world will forever believe that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. My life as a secret spy shall remain that. A secret.
Why?
The Ministry says it’s because I’m in a prime spot right now. That if there was another war, I would be a perfect spy. So the public couldn’t know.
I guess it’s also easier for them, they wouldn’t have to worry about criminals coming after me because I had helped the Light win.
I do a great job at avoiding the elephant that forever follows me around.
My shift at work ends, it is afternoon. The sun has not even set, and won’t for a few hours.
I keep working. Shelving and reshelving. Helping customers till they shoo me off with a frown or a fond smile. Redoing countless things behind the counter. Cleaning and sweeping and organizing.
Repeating and Repeating.
I don’t break for lunch, I don’t break for rest.
I work and work and work.
From before sunrise to the moon’s peak.
Till Miss. Daia comes from her apartment to scold me and usher me back home.
I’m afraid. I’m afraid if I stop I won’t start again. I’m afraid if I rest I won’t get up. If I think for too long I’ll become trapped. Trapped in memories.
'Get a therapist.'
'Talk to someone.'
How can I explain a muggle about the pain of Crucio? The weight of tradition and family that is centuries old and unbending, yet I still bent it? How?
Who in the wizarding world will help me? I am only a criminal, a Death Eater to them. I am scum, and nothing else. They would want to break me further, not help.
I am alone.
As I should be.
I’m back at home, the moon had risen and I lay on my back up at the peeling ceiling of my dreary little apartment. My stomach cramps with hunger pains, yet the idea of eating makes me physically sick.
It becomes harder and harder to believe that I was on the light side. That I was one of the heroes.
It becomes harder to find light in life when there is more at the end of the tunnel.
“Don’t go into the light!” Is the Muggle saying... But that is the only light I have left.
My only other light is…
I turn on my right side, towards my window. It is raining again. The pitter-patter of droplets seems to soothe my aching pains.
I still have Crucio spasms. My body is scarred, yet my mind is so so much worse.
I can’t…
Squeezing my eyes shut as the familiar feeling of hopelessness overtakes me, I weep for what could have been.
What could have been joy and light, there is numbness, pain, and greys. I could have been free, yet my wings have been broken and torn. Where I was once a social butterfly I am suffocatingly alone.
I hope dawn arrives soon…
My eyes close of their own accord.
Screams.
Loud and piercing.
Are those...mine?
I can’t feel anything but the burning pain. The pain unlike anything anyone could imagine.
How long has it been?
I feel it in every part of my body. From the tips of my toes to every strand of my hair. How hair could hurt is something that is beyond me. My magic itself screams in agony and my soul sobs in pain.
The Crucio turns to my aunt’s searing knife on my mark, and the lashes that my uncle throws across my back.
My aunt’s crazed laughter turns into the Dark Lord’s mocking laughs as the pain of the Cruciatus curse is added to the list of pain inflicted on my body.
I want it to stop.
Please
Please…
STOP
I startle awake my gaze filled with tears, breathing short and panicked.
I long for strong arms to anchor myself down with. For the voice that whispers sweet nothings in my ear, who makes me hot chocolate in the old Black Family kitchen and holds me close so I can drown out the laughter with his beating heart.
But instead, I float between the nightmares, the memories, and reality. All the way up till dawn. I spring up with fresh tears at the thought of being late for work.
I rush to work with tears and apologies on my lips when I see Mimi there.
The next few moments are a blur as I tremble on the couch in the back room with her holding me, the fresh smell of tea, and Daia gazing at me worriedly as she pats my back. My sobs ruining Mimi’s blouse.
But I can’t help but wish those arms were the ones of one Harry Potter.
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