How They Fell

Chapter Nine


Draco awoke feeling horrible. His head was groggy and his body felt stiff and awkward.

As he opened his eyes and looked around him, the events of the morning hit him. That image of his parents on the lawn, green, black, red and white, sent a huge oppressive weight over him. The void in his chest reminded him of its presence with a sharp pang, as tears silently trickled onto his cheeks.

He lurched to his feet towards the door, but before he could reach the handle it was opened from the other side. Albus Dumbledore’s grave and tired eyes met his as he moved forward and gestured for Draco to sit back down.

There was a horrible pause before Dumbledore seated himself and turned back to face Draco.

“H-how are they?” He asked, his voice shaking.

Dumbledore sighed quietly. “We think your father will be fine, he’s a strong man and we were able to get to him in time.” Draco closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

“ But…we were unable to do very much for your mother, she was hurt too badly and for too long. I am sorry Draco.”

Draco looked up sharply, disbelief clear in his flashing eyes. He did not believe it; he would not believe it. He held onto this desperately, willing it to be false, to be a lie. Dumbledore was always lying. He believed it until his eyes met Dumbledore’s sad, sympathy filled blue ones.

“No, no!” He pleaded, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry Draco, she died before we could help her. She loved you very much.” Dumbledore stood up and placed a hand on his shacking shoulders, “I will leave you in peace.”

* * *

Draco did not know how long it had been since Dumbledore left him. It had felt like he had fallen into a pain filled, black pit where nothing he could do or ever did would make any difference.

His mother was dead.

The pain induced by those four words was unbelievable. She was the only member of his family he had loved, and the only one who loved him back, and now she wasn’t here anymore.

The Parkinson’s! They had done this, they must have, she was having dinner with them! They would bleed for this. Draco swore to himself, the people responsible would suffer!

He leapt to his feet, coldly checking for his wand as he strode out of the office. He was glad now for his father’s instruction, it had made him capable of fully revenging his mother.

His face was set, cold and hard as he paced deliberately across the hospital wing. Any observer would have thought that he was Lucius if he looked at Draco now, the half crazed, cruel eyes looking for murder.

The observer did note this and with a growing fear. He stepped forward suddenly, forcing Draco to pause.

Draco had immediately seen Severus when he entered the large room, and had he been in any other mood, he would have been instantly struck by the look of anguish on his Godfather’s face. He was leaning against the wall on one side of the room, his eyes fixed, red and unblinking straight in front of him. But Draco could spare no time for him and made to ignore his presence entirely, until Snape made that impossible.

Snape felt fear uncoiling inside him as he placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. He looked so like Lucius, but Draco deserved more than that. Snape would be damned if he let him make the same mistakes as he and Lucius had.

He looked Draco deeply in the eye. He saw overwhelming hate and anger and loss swirling in those grey depths.

Unspeaking, he hugged Draco to him, trying to offer as much comfort as he could, but Draco remained stiff and resolute.

He stepped back, again looking directly at him, understanding.

“Don’t do it.” The words hurriedly tumbled off his lips.

“It’s what they deserve.”

“Yes it’s what they deserve, but not what you deserve.” Draco looked at him momentarily surprised out of his vengeance. Snape was a Death Eater. He should be helping Draco, not trying to dissuade him.

Snape decided to take a chance, risking his life in the hope of preventing Draco from doing what Lucius and his upbringing had conditioned him to do.

“Do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life bound and chained to that?”

There was a pause as the shock of the question hung in the air.

“Because that is where this course of action will lead you, Draco! If you go and hunt and kill those responsible you will lose twice over. He will use these emotions your feeling, perpetuating them, making you half insane in order to best serve him. You will lose yourself Draco! Lose yourself to the one that truly did this in your desperation for brief vengeance, and it will be brief!”

Draco was staring open mouthed at him. Once again he felt like his world had been reversed. Snape was one of the Dark Lord’s most loyal followers, and here he was referring to him as ‘that!’

Snape continued desperately. “Draco, don’t make the same mistakes that I did!” Pulling up his sleeve and pointing to the swollen red flesh around the distorted black skull on his arm, “you can have no idea how much he takes from you. How much his control and domination hurts. And this…this,” he said, his voice cracking, looking back across the room, “is how he rewards his loyal followers for their failings. Don’t delude yourself Draco, you know it wasn’t the Parkinson’s who were responsible. They were simply ordered to bring her. This was his work!” Again Severus pointed to the curtained off area in front of him, and Draco gradually turned to look upon his dead mother.

They had cleaned her up well, he felt, analysing her in a detached way. He blond hair lay prettily by her face, and her hands were placed peacefully over her chest. But there were darker patches of bruising on her too pale skin when he looked closely.

He moved forward, stopping at his mother’s side and taking her hand. A tear fell at her cold stiffness. There was no returning squeeze or warming embrace, she remained unyielding and unwelcoming as he bent his neck to kiss her gently on the forehead. Never before had his mother not responded with love and warmth to him, and the knowledge that she never would again…but he couldn’t break down and cry, he had thing’s to do.

Again Snape stopped Draco as he tried to leave the room, desperately casting about for something that would stop Draco.

“She wouldn’t want you to do this!”

“What?”

“For years she’s been trying to stop Lucius from making you join the Dark Lord.”

“What?”

“Like me she did not want you to sell yourself to that madman. She wanted better things for her only son than a life of pain and servitude! Why else would Lucius be forced to send you secret messages over the summer? If your mother had discovered that you were learning the Dark Art’s she would have done anything in her power to stop it! The last thing she would have wanted would be you to join him, her murderer in an attempt to revenge her! Please Draco don’t do it! She wouldn’t want this! Take the other coarse, it’s harder, God knows, but its what she would have wanted!”

Snape again looked deeply into Draco’s eyes, desperately trying to show the truth, to persuade the young man before him. He felt Draco pause and saw the struggle inside of him. Snape’s heart stopped for a moment, all his subtle work with Draco over the passed years had come down to this deciding moment, and he preyed with all that was in him that he had done enough.

Draco’s eyes closed, his head sunk down and all of the purpose seemed to be driven from his body. He sagged weakly on his feet.

Snape relaxed with relief. He had done it. Draco had shown all of his strength and Snape felt so proud at this moment that the events of the previous day briefly left him as he once more hugged Draco to him.

“Thank you Draco. I and your mother are proud of you.”

Severus Snape watched as Draco turned from him, walked to the figure of his mother and sat down beside her, his shoulders slumped in defeat.