𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑨𝒕 𝑭𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏 || 𝘈𝘜 𝘞𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞

⎯𝖣𝖨𝖲𝖢𝖫𝖠𝖨𝖬𝖤𝖱⎯

Here and behold is the fiction that I decided to make. It’s supposed to actually be a Dramione one, but this whole thing is mainly just about Draco. Werewolf/Death Eater Draco. There’ll be a song for each chapter, I prefer that you listen to it while reading but if you can’t — just read it beforehand. There’ll also be Trigger Warnings put for each ‘chapter.’ So, pay close mind of those.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Everything’s changed now. First year, and up until fifth year was fine alright. But it’s now sixth year, and things were moving too fast. They were becoming more realistic. Nobody was wandering around through the corridors in a happy daze, with smiles dancing over their lips, and light in their eyes, glowing skin. No, everybody was alert, any loud sounds had students whipping their heads around to check out the sound, to make sure that they weren’t in danger. Everyone was pale in the face, some had dark rings beneath their eyes, studying became harder to do when something darker lingered at the center of their foreheads. They could feel it, the hairs on their arms stood up at the sense of dark magic brewing not too far in the distance now, every year, it just seemed to have gotten closer.

During the fifth year of Draco’s holiday break, which wasn’t anything of a holiday whatsoever. It was a nightmare, the type that you feel like you cannot wake up from, and when you do, your cheeks are drenched with tears of a flood. It’s like sleep paralysis, it keeps you contained to the bed, as if locked in chains, and a cement brick was laid at the center of your chest. Anxiety in your throat, that made you feel as though you had to throw up, constantly. He was constantly living in a nightmare, not because he was now a Death-Eater, but also because he’d been something entirely different. A monster.

෴ 𝗔 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 ෴

Professor Snape stands at the side of his desk, dark eyes wandering over the many different heads of students. There was a presentation of a slide show upon a white screen. “Now,” he starts off with, hands clasped together in front of him. “Who can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf?” His question is out there, but while looking at the students before him. The class just stared in silence, and there was anticipation expressed over Hermione’s face, she wanted to answer the question — seeing nobody else was making a move too. Though, Snape seemed to ignore her, which was something he’d done a lot. “No one? How… disappointing.” He drawled in a bored voice.

But Hermione wasn’t having it, so instead — “Please, sir. An Animagus is a Wizard who elects to turn into an animal. A Werewolf has no choice in the matter. Furthermore — the Werewolf actively hunts humans and responds to only one call of its own kind —“

Draco’s mouth parted partially, and a low, taunting howl escaped his lips as he turned his had back to look at Crabbe, mouth twisting into a smirk of sorts, satisfaction coming over from the uncomfortable look upon Hermione’s face.

෴ 𝗘𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 / 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ෴

𝖪𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖤𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖬𝖾

And there were the answers anybody may need for the kind of monster that Draco had become. It all happened late one night during a new, full moon, he’d gone and pissed off a Werewolf. Fenrir Greyback. If you don’t know, don’t go pissing off a Werewolf. They don’t play nicely, no, Fenrir took him and made him his rag doll. He created a monster, there were now two, technically three parts of Draco. A Death-Eater, Werewolf, and a lonely, scared boy.

Every full moon was a painful one. Unless he snuck into the potions room the night before and made Wolfsbane — which was his case tonight. Nobody knew of his condition besides Goyle, who was actually the biggest one could possibly ever ask for. Goyle was the smart one to turn too.

Potions class was Draco’s top favorite class of his. He’d been making Wolfbane on his own for a while now. Wolfsbane potion was one that relieved the symptoms of lycanthropy, but the downfall — it was not a cure. Not too mention, the potion was dangerous if it was not concocted correctly. The many different ingredients one needed for Wolfsbane was: Aconite, black quicksilver (pulverized), giant moonwort, and Myrrh. The only downfall to this was that the ingredients were expensive — but Draco’s vault was filled to the brink, wealth was good in the Malfoy family.

Once he’d added all the needed ingredients, the potion needed to sit and ferment. While that was brewing, he decided to close up his books and put them away in his bag.

“There you are. I may as well put a bloody tracker on you in order to find you.” Goyle exasperated upon entering the potions room, closing the door behind him and walking over.

Draco raised an eyebrow, “You know well enough where I would be, so I don’t want to hear it, Goyle.”

“Malfoy, mate, it’s a bloody joke. You really get on edge the night before the full moon, you know that don’t you?”

“Oh, you don’t say? Is this something you’re just now finding out? Honestly, had me fooled.” The way his sarcastic response rolled off his tongue looked so easy when it came to Draco.

Goyle laughed; he full blown started laughing. Leaving Draco’s eyebrows to pinch tightly together at the abrupt laughter coming from his friend, he didn’t get it. Did he miss the joke or something?

“What is exactly so funny to you, Goyle?”

“Mate, you need to get your wand out of that twist, and live in the moment why don’t you? I’m laughing because — bloody, hell if I know, actually.” His laughter died down, shaking his head with a slow, one shouldered shrug.

He waved a hand, dismissing the laughter and what he’d been saying. “How’s your mother and father?” Goyle asked, it had been awhile since they had a meaningful conversation. They were always short with one another — then again, Draco wasn’t really himself anymore. He felt as though he shouldn’t have anyone he cared about around him — he was a monster, he could kill them.

“Oh you know. Mothers worried about me being a member of the Death-Eaters, and following a sick psychopath. She’s bloody pissed with Grayback for making me into what I am — I mean, who wouldn’t be, besides my father. I’m just a disappointment to him as always. One day I’ll show him. Mark my words, Goyle.” A sneer, a threat, and an explanation all in one came flowing out as if he’d been given Truth serum — Veritaserum. It was usually unlike him to be as open as he was, but here he was anyways.

Before Goyle even had the chance to respond. The handle to the door flicked back and forth, both Draco and Goyle looked at eachother with wide eyes. “So help me, Malfoy, if we’re caught—“ Draco cut in. “— help you what? What are you to possibly do if we are? Get over yourself, you came here looking for me, I don’t want to hear it!” They harshly bickered in hushed tones. Though, when the door opened it wasn’t a Professor, no, it was an insufferable know-it-all. Shit! As if they needed this to be happening right now while he was brewing Wolfsbane. Draco quickly glanced up at Goyle, jerking his head in her direction as if to tell him to take care of the problem. He nodded, and shot up from his seat.

Goyle’s arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in front of Hermione, blocking her from coming in anymore. “Lost?” It wasn’t even a question, it was more of a rude sneer.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. Damn her for not being tall enough to stand up to this bloke. A huff of breath slipped ed her lips as her eyebrows knitted together, an incredulous look over her face. “You’re asking me if I’m lost? You guys should be in your dorms, sleeping! Besides, Professor Slughorn wouldn’t like hearing about students being in his classroom half past midnight! If I was prefect, well, I’d take points away from Slytherin. Don’t you boys have any respect, at all? Like, honestly?” She infuriatingly replied with a sharp, bossy tone.

“Oh please.” Draco drawled from across the room. “Can you get any more annoying?” He sneered, and at his response she angled her body so she could look past Goyle, basically stepping up to her tippy-toes.

The potion was done. It emitted a light blue smoke.

Hermione pushed ed Goyle, and marched over towards where the potion was brewing, but before she could reach it Draco side-stepped her, cutting her off and blocking her from the couldron.

“Is that Wolfsbane?”

Draco scoffed. “That’s none of your concern, now is it? Why don’t you run along to Potter and Weaselby now, go make yourself useful elsewhere. It’s not wanted here.”

She pushed ed him, and out of the way. Despite that he was taller than her, she was quite powerful when it came close to a push or shove. Just depended on what was needed in the moment. Hermione inspected the liquid bubbling, and brewing about. The blue smoke that furrowed and danced towards the ceiling. “I knew it!” She exclaimed. “This is Wolfsbane. A very complex potion, and — “ She let a small laugh slip out. “—Ingredients are hard to come by due to how expensive they are. Can be quite dangerous if—“

“If it isn’t concocted right. Yes, Granger, correct. 10 points to Gryffindor for being a know-it-all.” He rolled his eyes, sniggering.

Hermione snapped her eyes at his comment. Pursing her lips in thought. “But what exactly do you need Wolfsbane for?”

“As I’ve stated, if you can recall not just two minutes ago — it’s none of your concern, now do you mind?”

“Oh my god!”

Draco closed his eyes out of irritation. Tongue pressed to his inner cheek. She was really testing his patience here.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” She feels like it was the most obvious thing, and why she even had to ask in the first place made her feel rather stupid. How could she be so blind, and daft at the same time? The moment she walked over to it, he had been protective of it like it’s his lifeline — as if she was going to poison it by just her blood– oh, well… Hermione sighed. It wasn’t her buisness, but she hadn’t met a student who was Lycanthrophy besides Professor Lupin. So it’s true then? Draco Malfoy was a Werewolf?

“The next full moon is tomorrow night.”

“Observant, aren’t you?”

“No, I mean — I just, you know what, never mind.” She shook her head. “Where do you, you know, go when you change?”

“What’s it matter to you, Granger? Just because you know that the Wolfsbane is mine now doesn’t mean that you need every little detail into my life.”

Meanwhile — Goyle had been sitting in one of the stools across the room watching as the two semi-bickered back and forth with one another. It was a funny sight to see. A bit strange, in a way.

Hermione jutted her chin, and sniffed. “I was simply asking because I could help you — I mean, if you needed anything, I can help. Granted how you’ve treated me in the past, times have changed, and this is an entirely different story, different meanings.”

“Uh— whatever, Granger, I’ll let you know if there’s anything that I need. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got stuff to do before this full moon.” He decided to leave it as it was, he was too irritable to argue with her right now and deal with her insufferable bullshit.

She huffed. “Fine.” Spun on her heel, with a quick glance in Goyle’s direction before heading out the door; without closing it.

“That was, uh, interesting.” Goyle now decided to speak, seeing it was safe too.

“Interesting? It was bloody annoying if you ask me. I don’t know if I can trust her to keep this a secret — we may have to teach her a little lesson about getting her nose into people's business where it’s not wanted. The input was unnecessary, if you ask me.” He replied with such disdain in his voice, and clearly readable on his face.

He grabbed a ladle and scooped up the Wolfsbane to put in a flask, once he was done with that he cleaned out the couldron, and placed it back it it’s original spot it had been before he came there.

෴ 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ෴

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝗈𝗅𝖿

TW: Feeling of suffocation, anxiety and disturbing imagery*

The closer it got to being midnight. The more irritable that he got. His mind kept overthinking the fact that Hermione Granger now knew that the Wolfsbane Potion was for him and that he was a Werewolf. What she will do with that information was up in the air, lingering and it made him feel claustrophobic. The school included, despite how big it was and how much space he felt he took up. All the sudden his tie felt tight on him, as if it had continued to get tighter, choking him of his air as the anxiety was the one thing that was insufferable. It was Hermione, no, it was the dread that comes before his transformation. It was the ache in his bones, and the sweat beading across his forehead made him feel like his body was overheating — at this point in time, it was though.

“You can do this, Malfoy.” Goyle reassured while Draco raised his wrist, allowing Goyle to put on the shackles to the chains. Both ankles and wrists. He felt like a bloody dog, chained and cooped up inside.

“You don’t need to reassure me everytime, I’ve been going through this for a year now. My mother was the one who’d be crying while Lucius chained me up in our dungeon.”

“Right then, there you are. Good luck, mate.”

Goyle didn’t stick around. Even if Draco would’ve asked him too, he knew that Goyle still wouldn’t do it. He didn’t want to see what the transformation looked like, the sounds, the cries, none of it. He’d been outside the door a couple times and couldn’t handle. It made his bones crawl.

The moon slowly peaked through the windowsill. The moment that the pale glow casted over onto his back. His blood was beyond a boil, it’s as if his body was made up of a volcano, ready to burst and spill all over the place. His bones felt like they were being broken and put back together, muscles twitches and spasms violently. His jaw clenched tightly, gritting his teeth in the process of all this. Thankfully for the Wolfsbane potion, he won’t feel the pain as much but it’ll still be there.

His fingers were the first to pop, and crack out of their sockets as they grew longer, and in place of his nails were full grown claws almost the size of ones pinky. His knuckles enlarged. Arms grew longer, and the veins became more… noticeable. Where his point chin once was, now grew a snout with feral canines. If he didn’t look intimidating before, well, now he just looked the par, along with the monster side of him. In the wake of old bones, lay a werewolf. Fur the color of his hair, like snow. Where the color of his gray eyes once were, now shown spiderwebbed bloodshot veins before nothing but blackness took over. He groaned, and his regular voice was nothing compared to what it was now. Violent, and dark. He thrashed in the wake of the chains, lifting his snout towards the roof of the Shrieking shack, a low, menacing howl rumbled up his throat and acted as if there was a microphone at the end, because his howl reached ed the roof and into the open midnight sky, speaking to the moon like it was his only friend — in the moment, it was.

Where the white-haired boy once sat chained, was now nothing other than a full, grown, monster — a Werewolf.

෴ 𝗔 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ෴

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅

TW: Gore/blood, murder*

Things are getting more menacing with the sky. The thick clouds covered the sun, and it was almost constantly raining at this point, making the ground muddy and the weather tragic. Only time will tell how soon it is for war — at the rate it’s going, they’re looking at tomorrow or the next day. Perhaps even longer. Draco felt that the Vanishing Cabinet was just about done, so in the meantime. He’d gone home to see his parents, only to see that Lord Voldemort was there, other death eaters surrounded the many chairs of his dining room table. The moment he’d apparated outside the gates of the Malfoy Manor, he felt the air thicken with dark magic and just knew he was going to be in for it.

There was someone familiar being hovered over the table. His gray eyes scanned over her features for a moment — he swore he knew who she was; ah, Charity Burbage a Professor for Muggle Studies, but why—

“Draco, so nice of you to finally us.” Voldemort’s bone chilling voice greeted him, and Draco needed to wipe the terrified expression from his face quicker than lightning. His mother went to stand, “Sit down, Mrs. Malfoy. He doesn’t need you to chaperone him to the table.” His voice bellowed across the surface of the table, and bounced off the stone walls, echoing. Narcissa whipped her head in his direction with an incredulous look. Now she wasn’t able to greet her own son? Her eyes narrowed on Lucius, and if looks could give anything away she’d be saying: ‘all of this is on you.’ Meanwhile, Draco’s throat clicked and he made way towards his parents. Taking a seat.

Next to enter the dining room area was Professor Snape. “What’s with the tardiness? You two were supposed to be here early so we can get on with this meeting!” Voldemort’s voice hissed, a reminder of a snake besides Nagini curling around his feet. “Sorry, my lord.” His voice drawled, as he went around the table to go and take a seat but paused in his step when he saw Charity Burbage.

“Do you know her?” Voldemort asked, his shake like eyes widened partially, and a small twist of his lips displayed a dark smirk.

“I do, sir.” He took a moment, finally slowly sliding into his seat. “She’s a Professor who teaches Muggle Studies.”

Voldemort slowly nodded his head. It looked like slow motion, coming from him because he took his time. He looked around the room at his fellow, loyal followers. “To those whom do not know…” his hand raised, gesturing towards the floating elderly woman. A tilt of his head. “We are delighted to be ed tonight by Ms. Charity Burbage. Who as of until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” His snake-like eyes wandered over the faces of the Death-Eaters. “Her specialty was Muggle Studies.” There was murmurs, and grumbling at the table but he raised a hand to quiet them. “It is Ms. Burbage’s belief that Muggles are not so… different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them.” He explained carefully, adoring the reactions he got from those around the table. Their faces filled with revulsion, and sniggering curse words.

“Mm.. my lord?” Bellatrix pouted. “Can, perhaps I kill her?” She asked, leaning in slightly to look at him but Voldemort just raised his hand to silence her and she leaned back against her chair with a large pout upon her face, and eyes downcasted to the table-top.

“This behavior in her eyes, is not an abomination, but is something to be…” his chin lifted with his head slowly straightening up. “Encouraged.” A decayed toothy grin played over his lips.

Voldemort raised his wand towards the woman as she tried begging Professor Snape to help her, to see reason. — “Begging to live, will not get you nowhere.” Voldemort stated, and decided because of her plea, he would lower his wand, “Nagini.” He called, and the snake slowly, but surely slithered its way towards him. “Eat.” He commanded, and she slithered up the table's post, and along the table's surface. He wasn’t going to kill her before hand, instead, he wanted her cries of agont to be engraved into his followers mind. So, in a way they’ll never turn their back against him — or perhaps, they’ll meet their untimely demise.

Nagini’s tongue delved out and flickered with a soft hiss rolling out and through her teeth. Draco, he didn’t want to watch a murder happen right before his eyes. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. He was already a monster, but Voldemort and his twisted, sadistic ways beat him on that. This was the night, he realized that he didn’t want anymore part of this bullshit. This was ridiculous. But how was he to get out?

She caught her prey, a venomous bite at the junction of her shoulder and neck. Which made her body drop to the table, and the snake slowly curled around the body. Charity, the poor woman cried out, but the only thing that was audible was the gurgling on her own blood at the back of her throat. Which spluttered up, over the side of her mouth and onto the table.

Bellatrix’s menacing, sinister cackle bursted out from between her lips. Narcissa couldn’t handle the sight, it made her sick to her stomach and when she made a move to get up — Lucius gripped her hand, in order to hold her in her place. Draco wanted to look away, but he knew if he did, Voldemort would most definitely say something. Call him weak, or put him down.

෴ “𝗦𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 ‘𝗲𝗺!” ෴

𝖧𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋

(listen to 1:20 before reading, if you’re a fast reader)

The golden trio — as you all know as Harry, Hermione and Ron have been on the hunt for Voldemort’s Horcruxes, in order to destroy them all otherwise Harry wouldn’t be able to kill Voldemort, if he wanted to. They’ve been staying in tents; moving around different locations because staying in one place would most likely get them caught. That just wasn’t something they were trying to do. But everything has to come to an end at some point, no matter how much you wish it didn’t have to. You always get caught.

“Hello, beautiful.” Scabior tauntingly purrs.

And that was all the taunting that she and the Golden trip would need as they spun on their heels, and darted through the woods. They separated from one another but their speed did not decrease. Hermione runs swiftly like the wind, flickers through the trees as Scabior pursues her. She’d whip her wand over her shoulder a few times in order to defend herself.

Harry slashes through the river, looks up, and sees a snatcher leap across the tree branches above. He couldn’t tell whom it was, but had a suspicion that it was Fenrir Grayback. He, as well, continued running down hill and weaving around a tall tree, jumping over broken stumps.

Meanwhile, Ron pounds through the thick brush, and the same as Harry, jumping over broken down trees. The forest around them grows more dense, as the shadows around make you think that you’re about to be caught but it’s just a trick to the eye. Spells splinter through trees, and ropes of light lace the night.

Both Harry and Hermione crash into one another. Snatchers close in around them, spells ricochet and bounce off the grounds creating a multi bright explosion around them. In the moment, a shadow crosses over the plains of Hermione’s face and she briefly looks demonic for all of second and before Harry could realize, she’d hit him with a stinging jinx and took his glasses. That was the end of their chase and she knew in that moment that this couldn’t have been all for nothing. Destroying the locket, only to be captured.

Harry goes off prattling, and now certainly wasn’t the time for that.

෴ 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗳𝗼𝘆 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗿 ෴

Scabior’s hands clasp around Hermione’s wrists as he walks her inside the Malfoy Manor, Fenrir not too far behind with Ron, and another coming in with Harry. They were portraying themselves as different people, trying to anyway. Penelope, Vernon, and Barney. Though the scar was still an evidently noticeable thing on Harry’s forehead. This was the end, this had to be it for them.

“Get your bloody hands off of her!” Ron hollers when his eyes looked over to see that Scabior was leaning his head into hers, and a sniffing sound purred out. Fenrir’s claws clutched in the back of the redhead's hair, with a sharp yank. “Shut up.”

Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco Malfoy were all present. Draco couldn’t believe what he was seeing, for a moment he had to close his eyes and take a slow steady breath. Of course, leave it to the bloody Golden Trio to be stupid enough to get caught. They’ve been captured by the snatchers’ and brought right into the belly of the beast — though, Voldemort wasn’t around thankfully for them.

“Draco! Is this boy standing before us, Harry Potter?” Bellatrix asked, an eyebrow raised and looked to shoot up into her hairline with the way her eyes bugged out.

Lucius pulled his son by the elbow of his sleeve to kneel before Harry, in order for him to get a better look. Inspect him closely like an investigator. “Well Draco?” Lucius sounded avid. “Is it? Is it Harry Potter?” He stood above Draco, he felt under pressure and there was hesitance in his voice. But emerald eyes met a storm gray. A terrified look.

“I can’t — I can’t be sure.” Said Draco. Which he knew would actually piss his father off. Why did Draco hesitate? He could’ve been rid of his rival once and for all, but with everything that he’s seen things have made a greater difference in his life now. At first, he was the boy who started sixth year with a sneer and a swagger, but as time went on he’d become disheveled. Well, you would be too, if all the pressure was on you. Not to mention, he was not only a fellow follower of Voldemort, but now carried a disease of being a Werewolf.

Now, when one witnesses seeing a death. It changed you forever. It permanently changes the way that you see the world — all over two murders he’s seen. His heaster, Dumbledore and Professor Charity Burbage. Draco was still a young boy, who had to endure all of this and see more things than that of any other student. It didn’t matter no longer that Ron was poor, Hermione was Muggle-born, and Harry had lost everyone he loved. Draco was living his nightmare, one that he was awake for, through it all and even when he slept he dreamt it all over again. He was constantly terrified for what may be next, would his parents be struck down right before his eyes? The thought made him shiver, and tremble. Beyond terrified and afraid, this nightmare wasn’t just something that happened once — it was ongoing.

Draco was torn between loyalty to his family, fear of Voldemort, and worry for his fellow classmates — instead of just denying that it was Harry, or saying that it was, he gave a rather ive… “I don’t know.” In which after responding for the second time, he’d returned to his mother’s side by the fireplace.

෴ 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ෴

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋

TW: Torture*

Draco had to put the boys into the cellar so that Bellatrix could have a talk with Hermione. When he came back up, he’d asked permission to leave the room but Lucius told him that he must wait — that he wouldn’t be getting out of yet, another gruesome time. No, he was forced in his place to watch Hermione be tortured. Bellatrix was asking her questions; and it seemed that Hermione was telling the truth that she did not in fact know how that they got the Gryffindor sword. Why Bellatrix didn’t believe her, well that was something Draco couldn’t really think about over the agonizing screams that echoed in his ears, he turned his back to the scene, clenched his teeth tightly together and gripped the ledge above the fireplace. Despite his past mistake of calling her a Mudblood, and saying that he’d kill her. Which wasn’t something he would’ve actually done, no, he saw the way that Voldemort handled things and that terrified him enough.

Narcissa’s hand slid into his free hand, gripping tightly in a way to comfort him and slowly he lifted his head to look at her, and sorry her apologetic look that she’d given him. As if to say with just her eyes: ‘I am so sorry for all of this. I never wished for you to fix your fathers wrong doings, to witness any deaths or have to have our family on the line. For all the pressure, and wished me and Lucius had been better parents for you.’ But there was something else she looked to be saying, there was a twinkle of hope in her eyes that he seemed to have understood. He slowly raised his brows, and she nodded. It’s like with their mother and son relationship, they could speak telepathically to one another. ‘Get out.’ Was what he saw in her eyes, and he titled his head to the side to make sure that’s what she said. She nodded again to confirm. ‘You take them, and go.’

There was a bang, bright flashes of dueling around them and he held that eye with her for a minute longer before her arms wrapped around his neck. “I will see you when this is over.” She whispered, “I love you, my dragon.” His breath caught in his throat when he heard her declare her love. It was bittersweet, and it made him overthink for all of a second but thanks to his mother he felt the shackles loosen, and fall to the ground. The cement brick lifted from his chest, and for the first time in two years he took his first deep breath. Instead of anxiety, there was determination — to end this, on the right side of the war. “See you, mother.”

She whipped her wand out, and made sure to have his back all while misguiding her spells she sent towards the two boys, Harry and Ron. Purposely so she wouldn’t hurt them, she needed them alive in order to finish this nonsense completely.

Dobby loosened the chandelier from above and it came crashing down but he ed over swiftly, as if he were just a breeze of wind shifting through the room, and before Hermione fell and since Ron was preoccupied with dueling his father, his arm curved around Hermione’s waist and pulled her back against his front while in a way, carrying her over to the two boys.

“What are you doing, Malfoy?” Harry asked, in between sent spells to defend himself.

“Making a choice, what’s it look like, Potter?” He snapped back with a sarcastic tone of voice.

But before Bellatrix or any member, besides his mother could see that Draco switched over to the good side. Dobby had looked at Draco in question, but apparated them out of there, and in a blur of light the room twisted, spun, and faces warped together. “Stupid elf!” Bellatrix cried out infuriatingly, throwing her dagger across the room until it disappeared with them in apparition.

෴ 𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺 / 𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗼’𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 ෴

𝖯𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖮𝖿 𝖭𝗈𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

TW: Blood, stab wound*

Everyone was thrown in different places. The sun casted over the tan sandpaper like sand. Waves could be heard crashing onto shore, kissing the sand. Harry got to his knees, and looked around to try and find everyone else as they were all scattered. He saw Luna standing next to someone’s body, and he couldn’t tell whom it was from where he was but started walking their way. Ron held onto Hermione but she whispered that she was fine and they both walked towards Luna. Where was Dobby?

“Draco..?” Luna’s dreamy, yet traumatized voice came over the soft echoes of the waves. Her hands were filled with blood.

“What is it Luna?” Harry asked from a bit aways as he got closer, finally approaching and what he couldn’t believe was what his eyes were seeing. “Malfoy…”

Hermione quickly fell to her knees at his side. “He needs help! We can’t just stand around and do nothing! He switched his allegiances, doesn’t mean we need to abandon him.” She exclaimed, her hands barely pressing at the wound from where the dagger was in his shoulder.

“Blood hell we won’t help him. Have you lost your mind Hermione? He's a Death Eater! Open your eyes!” Ron shouted and Hermione wasn’t taking it, she shot up and stood with her fists at her side before shoving at his shoulders. “How — dare — you — speak to me like this! I have just been — tortured — carved into like a bloody deer, and you — are worried about him being a — Death Eater — who made a rash decision and decided to help us!? We owe him!” Hermione screamed at him in between shoves, knocking him back a few.

Harry grabbed Hermione’s arms and pulled her back, allowing his arms to curve around her front in a way to restrain her — to keep her calm. “Okay, okay. Hermione’s right, Ron. We do owe him, otherwise we wouldn’t of all made it out of there alive.”

“Dobby sees that Harry Potter and his friends are all safe… oh.” His big beady eyes seemed filled with happiness for a moment until his eyes landed on Draco. “Dobby must advise Harry Potter to help bring master Malfoy up to the house so Dobby can fix his wounds.”

Hermione shoved Harry away in a nice way as possible as Harry slowly pushed his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose more. “Right.” He knelt down at Draco’s side. Looking over his shoulder at Ron. “Don’t bloody look at me like that. I’m not helpin’.” He huffed, taking off up the beach without another glance. “I’ll help.” Hermione’s face came from behind him as she rounded the other side of Draco. They both heaved him up onto his feet, putting an arm each over their shoulders and walked him to the house.

Draco felt his body being moved and his feet moved in a way to help, but would slip and drag here and there. A pain shot through his shoulder, as a groan slipped from his mouth. “Merlin’s beard. What the fu—“

“Watch your language, Malfoy.” Hermione replied.

His eyes shot open. In that moment everything came flooding back to him of all that he’d done. Did he actually do what his mother had said of him to do? Did? Another groan rumbled the back of his throat. For a moment, his eyes were blurry so he had no idea where he was but it was bright out, and he knew they were outside.

He was wounded, and there was a war right around the corner.