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miko-nova · 3 years ago

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The boy who had no choice

The first Oneshot to be posted and one of my more recent projects.

AO3 for those who prefer reading over there:

(Kindly ignore the other two Oneshots over there. They're old and need to be reworked)

The soft crackling of the fire was the only sound to be heard in the room. But it seemed to vanish completely, leaving only the frosting aura of men, sitting inside “Mister Malfoy, do you have any idea of the consequences this whole situation may have?” The voice of Severus Snape seemed to be even colder than usual. Draco only gave an absent-minded nod, still trying to proc the whole situation.

Only hours ago, he managed to put Harry, Golden-child, Potter, his rival since the first year under a Crutiatus-curse. He should feel any kind of satisfaction or power, but it just felt…wrong.

‘That’s it!’ Draco was leaning over the bathroom sink, the tears rolling over his cheek and dripping down, hitting the porcelain softly. He hated it, not only this whole situation but himself, for being weak…

for crying…

for just not being able, being willing to complete ‘it’.

He would never be able! To kill Dumbledore and finish the Vanishing Cabinet… Merlin, he didn’t even want to! The problem was: His assassinations, or rather their constant failing came to grow suspicion.

Would be rather a miracle, if not, he didn’t even try. To this point, playing dumb worked, but how long will it…?

Almost maniacally, Draco turned up the tap, splashing Water from the slowly filling basin into his face. He had to calm down, before anybody may find him.

Why? Why did Bell try on the opal necklace?! If she had just brought it to Dumbledore, the obvious attempt would have been revealed and the safety increased, so Draco could talk himself out of at least this part of the plan…

He wouldn’t have been able to, though, it has a comforting taste to grasp for the last straw of hope for a way out.

It was his fault, that she had to be brought to Hospital Wing!

No, it was her own fault, she just shouldn’t have touched the necklace!

Shoulders shaking, Draco leaned a bit more over the sink, an ugly sobbing shrugging through his body, followed by half-swallowed coughing and choking. His throat and eyes were burning, and he felt like he had to vomit. If anyone were to see him like this, the last bits of his reputation he somehow still holds up would shatter like glass.

Thinking of glass, Draco looked up into the mirror before him, into a face that only Farley resembles the young man he has been only months ago. He was pale, not in an elegant, but rather in a sickly way; the bags under his eyes were dark red, almost purple, the crying didn’t make it any better, and his hair was nothing than a fiasco.

Didn’t Pansy offer him some of her Make up? Maybe not that bad of an idea, it would be a disgrace to be caught because somebody got too suspicious of the dark circles.

Maybe Bell would reveal his tell-tale intentions now that she was obliviously back on track. On the other hand, wouldn’t she have already done it the moment she was able to grasp a clear thought again?

Could it be, that she was afraid of him? Unlikely, stubborn Gryffindor. Could it be possible, that she really couldn’t remember? Then, he was at least kind of safe from being caught.

But wasn’t that exactly, what he wanted to? Get caught, confess, and maybe even get some kind of witness protection?

No! What he was doing here was an honor! His parents said it was, Aunt Bellatrix said it was, ‘he’ said it was. He had to finish this, for the reputation of his family!

Another swell of water found its way to his face. At this point, not only tears but also little drops of water dripped back to the basin.

The mere memory of the fear in his mother’s eyes, how broken his father has seemed…has been after Azkaban, made him sob again.

He just had to somehow bring an end to this, for his parents. That was his only chance to protect them from ‘his’ arbitrariness.

Another sob, louder, more desperately. His head sank deeper over the sink.

“Malfoy, I know what you did!” The voice echoed from the bare walls of the bathroom, not that much louder than Draco’s own voice. And still, for the young man, the words were clear as day, made him freeze in shock. Panic.

Draco almost jumped, shock was written all over his face, as he stared at the person behind him through the mirror. Potter, of all people in this damn castle, it had to be Potter?!

Still shaking from his dying sobs, Draco turned around. There he was. Potter, merely a few meters behind him.

“You hexed her, am I right?!” It didn’t even sound like a real question, and, as rapidly as Draco has flowed from the great hall and how puzzled he was now, it was rather obvious. Even Potter would be able to put one and one together.

The thoughts were racing in the young Slytherin’s head. What should he do now? He had his back up against the wall, in the truest sense of the word, Potter blocking the only way out. With the last bit of control, he could raise, Draco performed an unspoken Stupor.

Potter dodged, the glass behind him shattering with a deafening crash, before countering with his own spell. It missed Draco by Inches, it was the shock wave, throwing him off his feet. Another Stupor from Potter followed before Draco could take cover, hiding from Potter's field of view.

What should he do now?! He had to somehow pit the Gryffindor out of action, maybe, or rather most likely, delete his memory. Or else, it would be tricky to get out of this situation.

According to the steps, Potter was on the other side of the cabin row. Draco dropped to his knees and shoot one more Stupor under the partition walls, before jumping back up again. Under a hail of partially only narrowly missing spells, both young men sprinted to the end of the row.

They reached the slim aisle almost simultaneously. But whatever Potter seemingly wanted to do, he hesitated. That was Draco’s one and maybe only chance. In a rush of adrenalin, despair, and blind rage, he shouted the first spell coming to his mind.

“Crucio!”

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Potter screamed and dropped to the floor squirming in pain. Draco was paralyzed, clutching the wand tightly, arm stretched out in front of him before he realized what he was doing. The wand slipped from his fingers, hitting the stone floor with a light, wooden noise.

Potter's pained cries and twitching dyed out and from the corners of his eyes, Draco could see him sitting back up. He himself felt paralyzed, unable to look anywhere but at his still raised hand, that held his wand only seconds ago. His fingers were twitching in an unregular pattern, the boy could just stare at them.

An effort to lower his arm or hold the hand still failed, it was like his muscles didn’t want to obey him.

At the same time, Draco’s head was empty and overflowing with thoughts.

“What is the meaning of this noise? Mister Potter, I hope you have a good reason to alert the whole castle with your screaming.” The almost freezing voice of Severus Snape teared both boys out of their trance, or at least Harry. “Oh, I have, Malfoy cursed me with Crucio!”

Nearly unnoticeable, the eyes of the professor narrowed down before he focused on Draco. “Is that the truth, Mister Malfoy?” His voice was tense, simply the tune of the words seemed to tell him to deny it. But the young Slytherin, still in trance, just nodded.

“Mister Potter, lower your wand at this instant!” Now, Draco actually looked up, to be exact at the tip of Harry's wand, pointed at him.

“But…!” A sound, that could have been a growling, shut the Gryffindor down almost instantly.

“No ‘But’. The headmaster will decide, how we will deal with this situation. Consider wisely, what you want to do, Mister Potter. At this point, I’m still willing to leave out the detail that you also participated in a not approved duel on school grounds.”

Draco was almost sure, Potter would protest, however, he only heard a suppressed mumbling. “And, as far as it concerns you, Mister Malfoy.” With a slight swish of his own wand, he directed Draco`s to float up. “I’m confiscating your wand for the time being.” Still, Draco couldn’t do anything then nodding absentminded.

“Mister Potter, if you feel any kind of dizziness, I advise you to visit the hospital wing after this talk. Now, follow me.”

Still in trance, and with a proper safety distance, Draco followed his godfather to the headmaster’s office.

Neither the talk nor the way was present in Draco’s mind, he just stared at one of the walls, trying to comprehend, what happened, what he has done.

Only one thing kept stuck in his brain. The fact, that Dumbledore decided – under heavy protest from Potter – to not report him to the ministry, at least not now. Said Potter stayed with the headmaster, highly likely he had to be persuaded so he doesn’t report Draco himself.

So, instead of a one-way ticket to Azkaban, he got some kind of probation, which included that he was appointed under permanent supervision. Seemed like a temporary full-stop for further work on the cabinet or another assassination attempt.

That was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? A reason, to stop. And yet, he was afraid, of what would come at him in the next holidays, when he had to leave the protection of Hogwarts and explain himself, at ‘home’. If suddenly, he wasn’t useful anymore, it could be the end for him and his parents.

Maybe, ‘he’ decided, that there was no point at all in letting Draco stay in Hogwarts anymore. The sole thought of having to stay at the manor constantly made cold sweat of fear run over his back. Then he would have to repeat what happened today.

Maybe there was a possibility to convince Dumbledore that it would be better to keep him at Hogwarts for the holidays. This way, he would be safe, at least for the time being…

No! He couldn’t do this to his parents. In the end, they may have to suffer the consequences of his failure, if Draco was not available. For their safety, it was worth, being a death eater, wasn’t it?

Draco wanted to sob out of pure desperation. He wouldn’t be – not now and never in the future – be able to torture somebody, it just didn't work.

The moment he had pointed his wand at Potter, six years of rival, insults, and kind of hate had shot through him like a lightning. It was a terrible feeling and the sole memory almost made him puke.

Potter's pained cries still echoed in his head, setting up goosebumps on his arms. Childish insulting and arguing was one thing, amusing, maybe even kind of interesting. But, really hurting him.

And it was Potter! To break it down, Draco didn’t hate the boy to the guts but had a certain antipathy. Apart from that, it happened in the heat of the situation, under any other circumstances, it possibly wouldn’t have even worked.

What would happen, if he had to use this spell on an innocent victim, likely to cry and beg for mercy. At the latest then, he would buckle.

There had to be a way to get out of this situation! Maybe, he should seek help from Dumbledore…

No! That would b his death! ‘He’ would find out, and that would be his…their end. Would his godfather reveal this kind of attempt? Was he more loyal to the Dark Lord or to his family…or, in the end, to Dumbledore…?

That wouldn’t make any sense, in this case, the headmaster would already know of his plans and Draco would rot somewhere down in the dungeons or in some lonely tower.

With a sigh, Draco pulled up his legs to the chest, placing his chin on his knees. Still, he was sitting in the office of his godfather and waiting for him to return. Severus had left for an ‘Unscheduled teacher's conference’ quite some time ago.

Most likely, they’re dicing out who had to babysit Draco.

Once again, Draco shuffled on the hard couch, trying to find a comfortable position in front of the fireplace.

“Feet down or take off your shoes, that’s bad for the cushions.” Draco would have been startled by the sudden voice if it hadn’t been this obvious. In the end, with a probability bordering on security, every single chocolate frog card in this castle would alert the teachers, if he tried to flee. Not, that he was particularly motivated to try.

“Oh, come on, old curmudgeon, who cares about the cushions. He’s the first one sitting there in years anyway. Can’t you see how bad and guilty he’s feeling? You’re surely realizing, that you made a terrible mistake. I assure you, many of us stood in your place and know how you’re feeling…”

“You know nothing about me!” The portrayal of the middle-aged witch shut down immediately. Yet, Draco hadn’t sunken this deep to accept life-coaching from some magic ink. Thought, she just wanted to be friendly and cheer him up.

With a slight sigh, Draco’s chin sunk back on his knees. How long would this ominous conference take?

Even if he was allowed to attend classes like before, how would the other students react? Potter wasn’t that much of a tattletale; he would most likely stick to telling it to his friends.

Granger and that was a thing he really appreciated about the mud-… girl: She knew, when at what to keep to herself. Draco wouldn’t say or think this word ever again, he was not like them, like this maniac who called herself his aunt. Who seemed to actually enjoy hurting people… Again, Draco wanted to throw up.

But the weasel…? In the end, he’d let it slip by accident and the sole possibility for it to be true would be enough for it to be bruting like a wildfire. Did his monitoring include personal security? Not, that anyone would dare to attack him… at least, Draco hoped nobody would.

The time passed on and, whenever the fire seemed to die out, a new log floated into the fireplace. Admittedly handy, Draco had to ask the professor about this spell…

What was the point of that?! He had bigger problems at the moment than a spell for hovering logs!

Jittery, Draco run a hand through his hair, they were still unkempt, but at least dry by now. If he looked in the slightest like he felt at the moment, then it was maybe good to be here and not in the common room, being drilled with questions by Pansy and Blaise. He was more than just grateful to have them by his side – the very fact that they came up with so many excuses for him without once asking for an explanation was more than he ever expected – but he desperately needed rest.

Draco’s view impinged on his hands again.

In this one, particular moment, he had felt more powerful than ever before, it almost physically hurt. His dominant hand was still a bit numb and kept shaking flimsily. Was that the feeling of using an unforgivable curse for the first time? Or does it feel like that every time?

It terrified the boy. He always expected to want power, in general, and over others, but not like that. It felt like being swallowed by it.

That…that was not what he wanted to be!

Was that supposed to be his future from now on?

Draco wanted to start crying all over again. Out of frustration, anger… or fear?

He didn’t even know it himself!

It was horrible, this feeling of absolute helplessness he felt towards this curse, the uncertainty. As if he was falling and didn’t know when he’ll hit that floor.

Where was his godfather when he was actually needed?!

Until Severus Snape actually returned to his office, a lot of time passed. Enough for Draco to fall asleep – legs pulled up to his chest, his face hidden in the crooks of his arms, however, without shoes. “Wake up, Mister Malfoy, it is time for you to get to bed.” A little disgruntled, Draco stretched his arms – his cramped sleeping position already claiming its tribute – and grabbed his shoes.

He actually took them off, not because he felt guilty towards the portrayals, that’s still to come. It became uncomfortable. Why did he even try to explain himself? He was Draco Malfoy he had the right to take off his shoes wherever and whenever he wanted to.

“From now on, you won’t be living with the other members of your house anymore. You’ll get a separate room.” At this point, this wasn’t even a punishment for Draco, that way, he would get the repose he needs.

“Whenever you’re not in class or at a meal, you’ll be looked up in the room. A teacher will pick you up at the respective time.”

Also, not that bad, this way he wouldn’t have to deal with some insolent noisy Nancy. Maybe, if he behaved well enough, he could buy himself some time at the library. Beyond that, he had to catch up on Arithmantik and Old Runes.

This dammed cabinet ate up more time than Crabbe and Goyle pastries, together!

“Additionally, you have detention under my supervision three evenings per week and on every second and fourth weekend of the month. At this time, you can continue with your ‘Task’.” Draco froze, eyes wide in shock he stared at his godfather. He felt like being thrown back in time some hours. The realization, and with it the fear, hit him, like a lightning bolt. He wanted to scream but felt his voice failing without even parting his lips.

It took some attempts, sounding more like screeching than anything else, to get out a straight word.

“N-no.” His voice was nothing more than a frail whisper.

Severus turned around and looked at his student.

“Professor, please don’t do this to me, I can’t…” If his father could see him at this moment, he would have been unbelievably disappointed in Draco. But the boy was desperate.

He had to…

But he couldn’t.

Severus glanced at his young protégé and for a moment, the cold in his eyas seems to give away to honest pain and guilt. “I’m afraid, you have no choice.”

#harry potter #draco malfoy #help how do i tag this #fanfiction #ao3 link

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