Draco Malfoy: Dead Man Walking

Chapter 2

Published: May 7, 2021

Draco felt his whole being rip loose from his body as the dementor extracted his soul. His senses faded. His breathing and heart stopped. His soul slowly was being sucked toward the black hole with acute, deliberate pain. It was enjoying it, enjoying his fear, his horror. This was the end. Harry was going to be the last thing he thought about as his consciousness was torn from his body.

Suddenly the dementor lurched, releasing its hold and Draco's hearing returned to a cacophony of sound. There was something screaming, but couldn't see as his vision was slowly coming back. He staggered from the loss of the dementor's slimy grip on his arm and dropped to the floor on his back. His heart finally restarted now that he was out of the dementor's thrall.

"Stupefy!" he heard, and something dropped behind him.

Draco's vision finally cleared in time to see the second Auror get hit and crumble next to the other. The dementor was what was screeching loudly, impossibly loud, and writhing in pain. It turned, and Draco saw that a sword was stuck in its back. There was a third person in the room, hooded, who stormed forward yanked the sword out. As the dementor turned, the cloaked figure plunged it hard into the fiend's chest, right where its heart should be.

The dementor let out a final, ear-shattering scream, and then practically liquified as its essence dissolved into the ether. Its shroud slowly collapsed to the floor as it... died. It might have been Draco's imagination, but he saw faint... things... like echoes of light, come out of the robes and float away. Were they souls? The ones the dementor took? Were they were free? Were his parents were free? He suddenly could breathe, again.

His rescuer secured the sword to his belt and then bent down to grab him before Draco could fully understand what he saw. He didn't even have time to prepare himself before he was pulled into his Apparation. It was rougher than Draco had ever felt before, as he was jerked from point to point, until they finally stopped. He landed on another floor in a barely lit room on his back. He was shaking, uncertain of where he was. Voices came from somewhere, but he was dazed.

"There you are! You did it!"

"They make you?"

Draco didn't look at who it was, just up at the hooded person. His hero finally pulled back his hood, to reveal the speccy, green-eyed git with black-ruffled hair that had been haunting his thoughts. What was happening?

Potter turned to what he assumed was Granger and Weasley, and said, "I don't think so." Then he looked down. "Malfoy?"

His hands, still bound, were tight against his chest as he looked up at Potter. He couldn't talk. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe, and he wasn't sure his heart was working normally. The dementor had taken every bit of his resolve and strength. He just stared up at his deliverer, Potter, who had arrived at the last second to save him.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked, a little more worried. "I'm sorry... they started a few minutes early. I couldn't get you when you were in the prison hold. Too many wards, but that room... they lowered the wards for the dementor. It was the only place I could get you."

He didn't say anything. He didn't move. He was still trying to process his words.

"Did you make it on time?" Granger asked, walking closer.

"He's looking at me. He's just in shock. It almost took his soul," Potter said and knelt down. "Hey, Malfoy. Calm down."

He still just stared at him. Was this real? He had imagined Potter saving him before. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he was still in his cellblock, waiting for Death. Or perhaps he was dead, and this was some strange afterlife. Potter would never rescue him. They were enemies, and he hated him. His breathing became erratic, again.

Potter sighed and vanished the restraints on his hands and feet. "Give me a hand, Ron. Let's get him on the couch."

Weasley took one side and Potter took the other. They hoisted him up onto the couch. He didn't drop his arms. He just stayed, still staring up at Potter, who grimaced, as his panic was starting to become noticeable. Potter leaned down.

"It's okay, Malfoy. Breathe. You're safe here."

He tried to calm down, but his mind stuck back there. The dementor had broken him. It almost took him... his soul. He was shaking so badly and couldn't process what had happened. His vision nearly blacked out as he went back into the moment and saw the dementor reach for him. The grey, cold hands... trying to bring him closer. The black hole of nothing....

Potter shook his arm and his vision cleared. "Malfoy? Hey, come on! Snap out of it."

"Maybe a Calming Draught?" Granger suggested.

Potter nodded, and she left the room. He knelt in front of his knees and took his hand. "You're safe. The dementor is...."

He flinched and started crying, which alarmed Potter. He was about to stand back up, leave him, when Draco reached out and grabbed his robes. He couldn't leave him. Potter was a hero. He would save him from it.

"Malfoy?" Potter said, awkwardly surprised.

"Please... don't let it take me!" he begged. He couldn't forget how close it had gotten. He'd rather die than let it suck out his soul.

"We aren't gonna...."

"Please... I don't want to be trapped forever in it!" he pleaded. "Just kill me instead, please!"

"Calm down! No one is going to kill you! It's gone! I slayed the dementor. It's gone, Malfoy!" Potter said, in a high voice and trying to push him off. "It can't hurt you anymore. I won't let any of them hurt you!"

He wouldn't let go, even though he remembered that it had... died. He didn't even know that dementors could die. The sword was still on Potter's waist.

"You're safe, Mal... Draco. Ya hear me? You are safe here. I won't let anything hurt you," Potter claimed, hesitantly rubbing his back. "I will protect you, okay?"

Tears continued to pour out as his mind finally accepted that Potter had actually saved him from eternal torment. "Thank you... thank you!" he cried, still clenching him.

"Well, wasn't expectin' that," Weasley muttered.

"Ron!" Granger snapped, coming into the room and handed Potter something. "It's in the tea, Harry."

Potter said, "Thanks. Come on, Mal-Draco. Let go." He had to pry his fingers off him and pushed him off, slowly, back into the seat. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

Draco's hands were shaking too much to hold anything, so Potter brought it to his mouth and he took a sip. It was enough that the tremors and tears stopped, and he could breathe normally. Potter put the cup in his hands, and he took another sip. Deep serenity filled him, and he didn't feel like he was about to die anymore. Immediately, he took more sips, and the panic slowly went away.

"I think it worked 'Mione," Weasley said.

"It should. I put a double dose in it."

"Maybe you shouldn't drink all of it, Malfoy," Potter said, sitting next to him.

He didn't stop, though. He hadn't felt calm in well... years. It was the first time he could breathe normally and not have the constant fear that he was about to die.

"Malfoy... if you drink that all, you'll pretty much say anything," Granger warned. "It's the closest thing to Veritaserum."

"I don't care," he murmured, tears welling despite the potion. He hadn't felt this way in... ever.

Potter sighed and took the rest of the tea from his hands. He didn't fight it. He had figured out that he was at their mercy. He stared at the floor, trying to regain his wits. His hands were still glued to his chest, and he could take full breaths for the first time in... he honestly didn't remember.

"Yeah, we don't need you drugged," Potter explained, next to him.

He didn't know what drugged meant exactly, but nodded. He didn't look at any of them, just at the floor.

"You're in a safe house. It's under a Fidelius Charm, and I'm the Secret Keeper. No one can get you here, understand?"

Draco nodded. He knew that only Potter could tell someone the address or let them in. He had been holding him when they Apparated in, so he knew the location.

"I'm sorry I had to wait until you were out of the cellblock. They made it so secure that even I couldn't get in and out."

He nodded, again.

Potter took a deep breath, exasperated. "I need you to talk to me, Malfoy. Did you mean what you put in this letter?"

Draco looked toward him as he shoved the farewell letter he had written at him. He took a deep breath and nodded, but managed to say, "H-How did you get it... so quick?"

"I was at the Ministry already, trying to get Kingsley to commute your sentence. But you meant everything?" Potter said, acting like it had been important.

Draco swallowed hard, remembering his tell-all, death-bed confession. Was Potter here to rub his face in that he was gay? Or did he just save him because he apologized? "Yes... I thought I was going to...." Die did not have the right connotation. The dementor didn't offer death. He couldn't finish his sentence.

"You gave me your wand?" Potter asked, intently.

Oh, that. Draco looked at the floor. "Yeah? I didn't want you to die... any of you. He... He said that there was a prophecy that you would... defeat him. You couldn't die," he said, even with the potion, his heart picked up. He didn't want to be tortured anymore. He didn't want to live in terror anymore.

"You gave me your wand so I could escape?" Potter pressed, leaning closer.

"Yeah?" he said, wondering why this was important to him.

Potter swore and he flinched. Potter held up his hands in apology. "Sorry. I couldn't talk to you, and they wouldn't let any of you testify... at your trial. It can't even be called that. If I had known... maybe... what about the battle?"

"What about it?" he whispered.

"Did you fight against us? I don't know what happened after the fire."

He tried not to think about the fiendfyre. The forced calm of the tea was helping. "No. Greg wanted to. We had a fight, and he tried to kill me. I ran away into another Death Eater. I think you saved me, again. I took his wand as the spiders attacked. I killed as many of them as I could... but when I heard... his... voice... I-I couldn't go back. I just froze, uncertain of what to do. I did help carry the dead into the Great Hall, but then he came up to the school and called for us to surrender.

"I couldn't go back to him... not after..." he whispered, his hands shaking despite the potion. "That's when the chaos broke out. I got pushed back into the school with everyone else. I stunned Greg's dad and one of Greyback's pack, and then you reappeared... you defeated him, and I was free."

"Free?" Granger questioned.

He didn't look at her. The Calming Drought definitely loosened his tongue. "After my father was arrested fifth year, I came home from school to find... him... in my house with twenty of his Death Eaters. I didn't exactly have a choice to take this," he said, rubbing his mark. "He would have killed me and my mum, instead of just torturing us. I had to pay for my father's failure. If I didn't kill Dumbledore, he was going to kill my parents and me."

"He tortured you?" Potter asked, trying to meet his eyes.

He winced and started rocking back and forth. The spiked tea wasn't working anymore.

"Whoa, calm down. Have some more tea," he said and handed the cup back. A few more sips and forced calmness spread over him.

"Yeah," he breathed, his hands still holding the cup. "A lot. Before I took this, after I failed at the tower and when you escaped from my house. He liked it. He did it whenever there was a chance. He kept threatening to give me to Greyback... and I knew what he did to people."

Tears came, and he took a few more sips, until Potter took the cup back. "I'm sorry. We didn't know."

Draco nodded. "What... now?"

"Well, that's the hard part, see. You're safe as long as you stay here in the cottage. They can never get you... here... so, unfortunately, this is essentially your prison, now. We are trying to get French sanctuary, and we can move you there. They have been against the summary judgements and unfair trials, but they haven't been willing to grant asylum, yet. Fleur is working on it. So, until we make headway, you're stuck here."

He nodded, unsure of where here was, but it was better than his cell. "It's fine. Thank you... for saving me. That... thing almost..." he swallowed, and the potion allowed the words to come out. "...it almost took my soul. I saw its... mouth and it nearly...."

Potter gripped his hand. "Shh... it's gone, now. I'm sorry it got so close. They did start early, too. Assholes. But you are safe... as long as you stay within the charm. You'll be able to feel it outside. It goes about fifty meters around the house, so you can go outside, too. As long as you're within the property, they won't find you and take... you. It's not a terrible place to get exiled to Draco. But I need you to promise me that you won't leave the bubble," Potter urged, leaning in closer.

"I promise," he said, bringing his arms to his chest. He was a dead man if he left. No, not just dead. It wasn't death out there... it was eternal torment. It was an easy promise to give. Besides, he owed Potter everything and would do anything he wanted, no matter what.

"Good, alright... Hermione is gonna make breakfast, and they are going to stay here a bit, while I go face the music."

Draco gave him a glance in his direction, but was careful not to look at his eyes. He already knew who his new masters were, and they had absolute power over him. "What?"

"I'm sure they will figure out it was me. They'll probably question me, but I'm still the Chosen One, and they wouldn't dare try to send me to Azkaban. I'll send for them if I'm pardoned."

"But..." he started.

"I can't help your case if we are trapped in here with you. Better face it and deal with the consequences earlier, rather than later."

Draco grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Potter touched his arm. "Don't be. We'll figure this out, Malfoy. You'll be outta here as soon as I can get you a pardon or French asylum, okay?"

He nodded, automatically.

"Good. Eat. You look like you're skin and bones, Malfoy. Hermione said that she'll show you the house and how to take care of yourself. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But what if..." he started to ask, concerned about what Potter was walking into, but he didn't want to upset him. He tightened up. Questions lead to torture.

"Hey, they will protect you until I come back and I have friends in high places. Don't worry about it," Potter said and got up. He handed Granger the sword. "It worked great, by the way. But thanks for doing this, guys. Just stay here, alright?"

"We will. Good luck, Harry," Granger said, putting the sword into a case on the mantle.

Potter nodded and disappeared with a Crack, leaving him with the two people he had bullied the most in the world. Oh, fuck.