bleedingangel84 | Fallen: A Thwarted Love Story,11/12 (Reply)

Chapter 11: The Aftermath

Draco hardly dared trust his eyes when he saw Voldemort fall for the final time. The quiet pressing against his eardrums after the frenetic energy of the battle was enough to drive him mad as he stood, frozen in shock. Forcing his rapidly numbing body into motion, the Slytherin stepped toward the motionless Dark Lord in distaste, intent on making sure that there was no pulse of life lingering in Voldemort’s body.

Upon finding Voldemort to be truly dead, Draco began to take in the scene of utter devastation around him. Lifeless Death Eaters littered the clearing in the yew grove, looking for all the world like dolls carelessly tossed aside by a petulant child. Draco felt no sense of mourning for them, though these were the men and women who had been his father’s friends during his childhood. They had always made him vaguely afraid, even then. He felt only a half-ashamed feeling of relief that everything was over. Thanking the gods that he had survived, the Slytherin apparated back dazedly back to Hogwarts.

Standing outside the gates at the entrance to Hogwarts grounds, Draco summoned his eagle owl, Zeus, from his nightly hunt in the Forbidden Forest. Conjuring a quill and parchment, he penned an urgent note to professor Dumbledore. Unsurprisingly, Draco did not have to wait long before the headmaster was ushering him through the front gate and leading him into his office.

Declining Dumbledore’s offer of a lemon drop, Draco glanced around his office with interest, waiting for the old man to break his speculative silence. “Mister Malfoy, I must admit, I am rather curious as to why you have contacted me in the middle of the night. One can only assume that this concerns a matter of the gravest importance.” The old wizard’s eyes were uncharacteristically serious as he took in Draco’s disheveled appearance and thick, black robes. It was only in that instant that the Slytherin realized he was still dressed as a Death Eater.

“What has happened, Draco?” Dumbledore asked, “Has there been an attack?” Still feeling shaken from the night’s events, overwhelmed with his role in them, Draco simply shook his head. “There was no attack,” he sad simply, “the Dark Lord is dead.” Feeling exhaustion creeping over him after the evening’s activity, Draco sank gratefully into the chair in front of the headmaster’s desk before answering the old wizard’s next question.

“How did such a circumstance come about, if I may inquire? This is most highly unusual.” Dumbledore’s eyes had lit with a maddening twinkle once more as he looked across at Draco, as though he was already aware of the answer Draco would give. Looking up at him unwillingly through half-closed eyelids, Draco forced his answer through the cage of his gritted teeth. “I killed him. The madman had it coming. I hope he rots in whatever Hell his soul is calling home now.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat, taken aback by the vehemence of Draco’s response, though his eyes were shining with suppressed merriment. “Professor Trelawney will be most disappointed when word of this gets out. The prophecy about Harry being the one destined to kill Voldemort was the only one of her predictions that was ever wholly believed. She will be most distressed to learn she was once again mistaken. Poor soul.”

The light in his eyes seemed to brighten for an instant before he next spoke. “I shall inform the Minister of this development, Mister Malfoy. You will undoubtedly be seen as a hero in the years to come. It is a heavy burden to carry on such young shoulders.” His tone was kind despite the warning in his words. “You would do well not to shoulder such a thing alone.”

“Now that the Dark Lord is gone, perhaps I won’t have to. Would you excuse me? I am rather fatigued, and there are things I need to do before I can rest properly.” As he said this, his mind was filled with thoughts of Hermione’s shining eyes. He could only hope she would forgive him for his dealings with the Death Eaters. Sending up a silent prayer, he left the headmaster’s office determined to come clean about everything he’d been forced to hide.

Draco hurried from the headmaster’s office as fast as his legs could carry him, not wanting to waste a minute he could have been spending with Hermione. Knowing that she was most likely in the Gryffindor common room given the late hour, he willed his legs to carry him into the territory dominated by the house that was Slytherin’s biggest rival. Intent on nothing more than finding Hermione and distracted by the thoughts of how he would explain himself and his appearance to her, the Slytherin was startled when he ran into Harry Potter making his way out of the castle.

“Potter! Watch where you are going, half-wit! I have somewhere to be,” he barked. Draco turned away from Potter and began to stalk in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. Before he had gone two paces, the Gyffindor spoke to him from behind his back. “If you’re looking for Hermione, don’t bother. You won’t find her.” It was impossible for Draco to miss the vicious satisfaction in Harry’s eyes as delivered the news in a whispered hiss.

“I don’t know how you found out about us Potter, and I don’t care! Just tell me where she is-right now,” Draco cried angrily. He felt his heart begin to thud painfully in his chest when he thought of all that could have happened to her. “You’ll never see her again, you bloody ferret. Don’t think I don’t know what Voldemort had planned for tonight. I’m telling you right now, it isn’t going to happen. She’s safe, and she’s going to stay that way.” The words were said with conviction as Harry eyed Draco suspiciously.

“I don’t want to hurt her, Potter. I came to tell her the truth. The Dark Lord is dead. She has nothing to fear from me, not now. Not ever. I wish I could tell her this myself. I love her.” Draco waited with bated breath for Potter to respond. Years seemed to pass before Harry spoke again. “How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick just to get your hands on Hermione?” he asked, “Death Eaters aren’t exactly notorious for being trustworthy.”

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, his lips pursed with his growing irritation. “Fine, Potter. Go to Dumbledore if you don’t believe me. He’ll confirm the truth of it, and then maybe you will be satisfied. I’m too exhausted to fight with you right now, but for once in my life, I am telling you the truth.” Malfoy turned with slumped shoulders in the opposite direction, needing to be alone with his thoughts. Potter’s voice startled him just as he was turning the corner leading to the dungeons. “Malfoy? I will tell her what you’ve said.” The Gryffindor’s voice was soft now, the hostility there replaced with confusion. “Thank you, Potter,” Malfoy said softly, “She may never forgive me for some of the things I’ve done, but I swear I will never give up searching for her, or trying to make it up to her. Tell her that as well. Please.” Harry nodded his assent, but the gesture remained unseen by Draco as he turned his dragging footsteps toward the passageway to his own dormitory. Brushing the evidence of exhaustion from his eyes, Draco felt his heart begin to break. After everything, he had lost her anyway. He knew Potter would never give him Hermione’s whereabouts. Fighting the burgeoning moisture in his eyes, he resolved never to give up searching for the young woman who had taken possession of his heart.