Years Later
Two
In spite of the emptiness surrounding him, the death eater was not alone. Harry, Ron and Hermione had never left him, and neither had the original person the memory was based on. The trio stood around him, odd against the Hogwarts' backdrop. They seemed old, and tough, sending the death eater's mind through a reminiscence of Mad-Eye Moody for a split second. But it was the person in front of him, slipping against a wall that his focus was on. "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now," Dumbledore had told him. In reality, Draco had remained strong… but this time, he was crying.
The prison guard heard crying, but ignored it.
Even in Draco's mind, where he tried to make everything better, did the doors open and the others walk through. He couldn't comprehend their words anymore, but was screaming at them to stop. It was mortifying to know that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were watching him struggle... Even if they seemed apathetic to it; all they did was stare, their eyes boring past his skull and into his desperate mind.
A prison guard heard Prisoner 48970 cry out, screaming the words, "Stop! Go away!" several times. There were footsteps approaching his post, and Hermione Granger was walking towards him… with Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter in tow.
Snape crashed through the door. Draco cried harder, trying to change it.
Ignoring the guard, the trio hurried back to Draco's cell. Harry didn't pity Draco; Ron still hated Draco for the years of mental torture at school; Hermione knew that he was guilty for the crimes he had committed. Yet, they had to go back. Amidst the Malfoy's fanatical whispering, they had all heard one name they recognized: Dumbledore. Was that screaming they heard coming from his cell?
"Avada Kedevra!" Snape's face twisted harshly as he said it, aiming his wand at Dumbledore.
"No!" Draco screamed.
Alas, Draco realized what he still had a chance to change before the memory changed. Before he knew it, Draco was lunging towards the old headmaster. Time nearly stopped so that he would have time to get done what he had to do, and in that moment he looked and saw old, battle-worn Hermione hold her hand out to him. Flying through the air, he could not grab her hand, but wished that she would know how much it mattered that she would offer it. It reminded him of what Dumbledore had said to him, offering safety. Though, Draco would not have wanted this silent moment of clarity to last forever, he would've wanted just a little more time.
Snape's curse to Dumbledore hit him on the chest, and he died… instantly. The last thing he thought was, "Maybe I should've just taken Dumbledore's help."
Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushed in seconds after the hysterical screaming stopped. The sheet they had thrown onto Draco was a convoluted mess- like if he had tried leaping from the cot. It twisted about his legs, and up until his arms and torso. His head was turned in the other direction. Boldly, Harry walked towards him and flipped Malfoy onto his back. Wide, fearful eyes looked up at him, unblinking.
"He's… dead?" Hermione choked out, voicing their unanimous question. She had seen many people die before, though she still feared death, and never seemed to get close to conquering that.
Ron nodded, lips stretched taut in a grimace while checking Malfoy's pulse.
"Dead," Harry quipped, as coldly as he had spoken to Malfoy before. He walked out of the cell, Ron following. But Hermione couldn't leave, not yet. Seeing Malfoy again, even in his distressing state, was like a walk into a colorful little memory store for her. It was like walking into the past, but not really doing so. Could the boy that had caused her so many tears about being called "Mudblood" really be dead? She shook him in a futile effort to rouse him. Blowing air from her teeth, she realized his expression wouldn't change, and he wouldn't wake up. Dropping him unceremoniously onto the cot, Hermione started in a huff towards the door. Ron and Harry would never let her down for that, she realized. They'd probably imply that she believed herself to have corpse-raising talents… Nevertheless, she turned around when she reached the doorframe. Draco was still lolling off of the edge, useless as a rag doll.
Though, to Hermione's disbelief, his expression had changed. The trademark Malfoy smirk was in place, and his eyes glinted in a humorous way… as if he knew a very interesting joke. Or a very dark secret… that no one else knew. The glimmer in his eye's passed, but the smirk never left his face- even when his weight shifted and his dead body fell to the floor.
Hermione turned and quickly sprinted to where Ron and Harry were waiting- looks of smugness on their faces… obviously, they knew she had shaken the cadaver. Something sparkled in the corner of her eye, and Hermione turned quickly to see a cat lolloping down the aisle of inmates, its eyes sparkling and its face in a squashed, perpetual smirk. It jolted her to see a cat resemble Draco Malfoy so much, and she wished that Ron and Harry would never note the resemblance as she patted the ground cooing,
"C'm'ere, Kitty… Psst psst." It's white, furry self languidly cascaded itself into her arms as she whispered in its ear, "I will call you… Dragon."
The prison guard heard crying, but ignored it.
Even in Draco's mind, where he tried to make everything better, did the doors open and the others walk through. He couldn't comprehend their words anymore, but was screaming at them to stop. It was mortifying to know that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were watching him struggle... Even if they seemed apathetic to it; all they did was stare, their eyes boring past his skull and into his desperate mind.
A prison guard heard Prisoner 48970 cry out, screaming the words, "Stop! Go away!" several times. There were footsteps approaching his post, and Hermione Granger was walking towards him… with Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter in tow.
Snape crashed through the door. Draco cried harder, trying to change it.
Ignoring the guard, the trio hurried back to Draco's cell. Harry didn't pity Draco; Ron still hated Draco for the years of mental torture at school; Hermione knew that he was guilty for the crimes he had committed. Yet, they had to go back. Amidst the Malfoy's fanatical whispering, they had all heard one name they recognized: Dumbledore. Was that screaming they heard coming from his cell?
"Avada Kedevra!" Snape's face twisted harshly as he said it, aiming his wand at Dumbledore.
"No!" Draco screamed.
Alas, Draco realized what he still had a chance to change before the memory changed. Before he knew it, Draco was lunging towards the old headmaster. Time nearly stopped so that he would have time to get done what he had to do, and in that moment he looked and saw old, battle-worn Hermione hold her hand out to him. Flying through the air, he could not grab her hand, but wished that she would know how much it mattered that she would offer it. It reminded him of what Dumbledore had said to him, offering safety. Though, Draco would not have wanted this silent moment of clarity to last forever, he would've wanted just a little more time.
Snape's curse to Dumbledore hit him on the chest, and he died… instantly. The last thing he thought was, "Maybe I should've just taken Dumbledore's help."
Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushed in seconds after the hysterical screaming stopped. The sheet they had thrown onto Draco was a convoluted mess- like if he had tried leaping from the cot. It twisted about his legs, and up until his arms and torso. His head was turned in the other direction. Boldly, Harry walked towards him and flipped Malfoy onto his back. Wide, fearful eyes looked up at him, unblinking.
"He's… dead?" Hermione choked out, voicing their unanimous question. She had seen many people die before, though she still feared death, and never seemed to get close to conquering that.
Ron nodded, lips stretched taut in a grimace while checking Malfoy's pulse.
"Dead," Harry quipped, as coldly as he had spoken to Malfoy before. He walked out of the cell, Ron following. But Hermione couldn't leave, not yet. Seeing Malfoy again, even in his distressing state, was like a walk into a colorful little memory store for her. It was like walking into the past, but not really doing so. Could the boy that had caused her so many tears about being called "Mudblood" really be dead? She shook him in a futile effort to rouse him. Blowing air from her teeth, she realized his expression wouldn't change, and he wouldn't wake up. Dropping him unceremoniously onto the cot, Hermione started in a huff towards the door. Ron and Harry would never let her down for that, she realized. They'd probably imply that she believed herself to have corpse-raising talents… Nevertheless, she turned around when she reached the doorframe. Draco was still lolling off of the edge, useless as a rag doll.
Though, to Hermione's disbelief, his expression had changed. The trademark Malfoy smirk was in place, and his eyes glinted in a humorous way… as if he knew a very interesting joke. Or a very dark secret… that no one else knew. The glimmer in his eye's passed, but the smirk never left his face- even when his weight shifted and his dead body fell to the floor.
Hermione turned and quickly sprinted to where Ron and Harry were waiting- looks of smugness on their faces… obviously, they knew she had shaken the cadaver. Something sparkled in the corner of her eye, and Hermione turned quickly to see a cat lolloping down the aisle of inmates, its eyes sparkling and its face in a squashed, perpetual smirk. It jolted her to see a cat resemble Draco Malfoy so much, and she wished that Ron and Harry would never note the resemblance as she patted the ground cooing,
"C'm'ere, Kitty… Psst psst." It's white, furry self languidly cascaded itself into her arms as she whispered in its ear, "I will call you… Dragon."