𝔩𝔵 | seventh year

                                    

                                          
draco's pov–
                          
Holidays are excruciating. My home isn't even my home anymore, it's just Malfoy Manor, where all the Death Eaters reside, taking up nearly every room in the whole entire house. Father makes me go to every meeting. Every single one. Where lists of Muggles, mudbloods, and half-bloods that have been killed are read. 
                          
Every day, I pray that Y/N Larkspur does not grace that list. She is everything. And if I lost her, I would have nothing. Because of Father, I am evil, cursed to be a Death Eater for the rest of my life. I wonder how she can even look at me, especially when I choose the Dark Lord over her day after day. She's worth more than that, even though I hate to admit it, that little half-blood invades my mind. 
                          
One morning, something changes. I wake up knowing that something bad is going to happen today, and my gut fills with terror as I dress myself in my traditional black suit. It's Wednesday– and school should be starting up next week. Usually, students arrive back to school on the Monday of this week, to have a week to catch up and prepare for the second half of the year. Not me, I have more important things to worry myself with. Hopefully, Y/N is there, safe behind those closed doors, with only the Carrows to worry about. 
                          
"Draco!" Bellatrix sings throughout the house, her voice jagged and high, as if she's celebrating something. The fear in me only rises, "Draco! I need your help!" I peek my head out of my door, seeing hordes of my people standing in the entranceway as Bellatrix and some Snatchers walk through the door, wands held to the necks of a few helpless people. 
                          
I walk down the stairs as Bellatrix throws a man at my feet. His face is severely disfigured, with large bumps and bruises covering it, but the second I see his face, I know who it is. Potter. 
                          
Following him in, carried by two Snatchers, are Weasley and Granger. No sight of stubborn, brave Y/N. As much as I want to see her face, I'm happy she hasn't gotten herself entwined in the golden trio's antics for this one. 
                          
Bellatrix pipes up as I look at the trio, "It's Harry Potter, isn't it Draco? You went to school with the boy for six years, you should know his face!" She smiles a large grin of rotten, blackened teeth, waiting for my answer, "Well?"
                          
I pause, looking at Potter's lumpy face. What happened to him? It looks like he's been stung by a thousand bees, "I can't be sure." I say, knowing that I should cover for them. The three of them would be killed if I'm honest, and... I gulp... Voldemort would reign in supreme power. 
                          
Father comes up behind me, aggression in his tone, and he grabs the nape of my neck rather harshly, "Look closely, son," It's threatening. Even if this boy wasn't Potter, he would want me to say that it is, so that he could get the glory of turning him over to the Dark Lord, "Remember, if we turn Potter in to the Dark Lord, all of our wrongs will be forgiven." His voice is low, almost too low to hear. 
                          
I breathe heavily. Voldemort will forgive me for not killing Dumbledore, will forgive my father, and most importantly, will forgive my mother for making the Unspeakable Vow with Snape. Just as Father looks as if he's about to blow, Mother approaches, "Lucius, calm down." She pulls him away. 
                          
I look closer at Potter, "What's wrong with his face?"
                          
"It looks to be a Stinging Jinx," Bellatrix laughs, "You think you can fool us? Check their wands, let's see what their last spells were." She turns to Weasley and Granger as I look into Potter's eyes. It's most definitely him, and he pleads with me. I'll never like the boy, maybe I even hate him, but I can't be the reason for his death. I don't need that on my conscience. 
                          
Before the wands are even checked, Bellatrix lashes out at one of the Snatchers, seeing a wand in his hand, "Where did you get that?" She seems like she's in awe. The Snatcher explains, saying he found it in Granger's bag. In anger, Bellatrix attacks the three Snatchers, throwing them out the front door, "Put those mongrels in the cellar!" She screams, ordering some lower-ranked Death Eaters to throw Weasley and Potter down there as she turns to Granger, "We're going to have a little chat."
                          
Hermione's body racks with sobs as Bellatrix holds her down to the ground, accusing her of countless things I can't even understand. I disperse with Mother, my heart still pounding against my chest from seeing Potter's green eyes looking deep, deep into mine, maybe searching for some shred of light in my dark soul. I can assure him there is none. 
                          
Mother gently takes my shoulder, "Is that Harry Potter?" She whispers quietly, even though the two os us are alone. I never lie to her, but I have to.
                          
"I don't know."