Note: Yay! I'm back! Here's a little something to get started again. ;)
I jumped awake suddenly, my eyes replaying the terrifying images I'd seen behind my closed eyes. I'd seen Draco… but he was being tortured. He was writhing on the ground in pain, tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. But she was dead.
I knew that.
I sat up slowly, making sure to allow my head the proper time to adjust to the spinning sensation I was feeling. I looked over at my side table; sure enough, there is yet another empty bottle of fire whiskey added to my recent collection. I don't even remember this one.
I slid out of bed, and then carefully padded across my room and into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, and splashed water on my face. My mind was too muddled to even remember a simple spell to do it for me, or to even know where my wand was.
Somehow I found myself at the refrigerator, going through the motions of an actual muggle-styled meal. Pull out a carton of orange-juice. Get a glass. Pour. Get two pieces of bread. Place them in the toaster. Take them out. Butter. Consume.
For days I had been like this. I didn't realize quite how much Draco had meant to me… until he was gone. So far gone… and I didn't know where.
"How… how are you alive?" I managed to choke out through the intense pain I was feeling. Bellatrix materialized behind Dumbledore. "You… died! I was there!"
"Albus Dumbledore did die, Draco." The voice that came out of Dumbledore's mouth sounded snakelike. "But I am not Albus."
"Then… who?" I broke into a sputtering fit of coughing then, gasping for breath as my own blood spattered the floor.
"Take a guess, Mr. Malfoy. I think you know who I am." Albus hissed again, taking a large step towards me. His shoes were pointed and clicked on the ground. Bellatrix quickly adjusted herself to be seen, and narrowed her eyes menacingly.
"Well…" quite honestly, I didn't want to voice my thoughts aloud. They were horrible… and it couldn't possibly be true! And I was having a hard time concentrating with the pain writhing through my
"Tell us, Mr. Malfoy, and we can give you the antidote." He hissed, stepping even closer. I opened my mouth to speak, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the awful pain, but foam started to gurgle up out of my throat and dribble down my cheeks, choking me. I gasped for air, my lungs straining for precious oxygen. My hearing started to fade, but not before I heard a cry of exasperation. I heard the click of shoes walking away, and thought, I'm dying. They're leaving me here to die. I'm expendable… apparently I'm not as much of an asset as they thought. I'm not worth the trouble.
Suddenly, a sharp object is jammed into the crook of my elbow, and fire seems to engulf my body. Screams wracked my body as I twisted on the floor, trying to fight off the sudden spurt of unending agony. I could feel my heart giving up… I could feel my throat closing…
A blurry figure leaned over me just as I let my eyes close.
"Sleep tight, Draco."
I am flying.
I could see everything below me. The city of London, then came the outskirts until I came to a countryside littered with cows and pigs and horses. I never saw this place before.
A train chugged along below me, moving with me as I flew. I'm dreaming. I'm dead. I'm somewhere pleasant.
Suddenly, the image segues into a warm living room with firelight flickering across the furniture. Hermione's home. I recognized it as. I landed on my feet, upright, and then sat down on the inviting couch, waiting for her to show. She's supposed to be here. I thought. Where else could she be?
Then there she is, sitting next to me, appearing suddenly and without making sound.
"I missed you," I whispered, leaning closer to her. I press my lips behind her ear. "I've been waiting."
"So have I." she responds, her voice sounding airy and faraway.
Then she is everywhere. Her scent filled my nose; cinnamon mixed with vanilla. I felt her hands grasping at my back, pulling me closer to her as her mouth found mine. My whole being tingled with her touch, with happiness, with her presence. I feel elated, my happiness seemingly impossible and blown up to the size of a balloon.
Her hands ghosted down my cheek, stopping at my jaw.
"Smile, Draco." She said, turning the corners of my lips up as she pulled away from me. Instantly, I long for her touch. Suddenly, her eyes are alit with murder and rage. Her hands rip at my mouth, ripping my skin open. Forming a smile with my mouth. Cutting a smile into my face.
I screamed, and tried desperately to throw her off. But she is stronger. Stronger than I remembered… and she is still everywhere. She was still everywhere.
"SMILE, DRACO!" She shouted, her mane of brown bushy hair changing into dark, black hair that stuck out at all angles. Her face changed shape, turning into something full of sharp angles. Her eyes turned dark, the warm chocolate color vanishing from it.
My eyes opened suddenly, my chest pumping up and down. A nightmare.
Then I feel the stinging on my cheeks. The warmth seeping down my jaw. I tentatively touched the cuts on my face… apparently somebody had been trying to make me smile. But it most certainly was not Hermione.
I realized that the pain was gone. My limbs were a little sore, but I was still alive… they hadn't left me to die. I kind of wished they did… whoever "they" were.
I heard a door open behind me, and sat up slowly and carefully, expecting dizziness. But none comes. I'd probably been sleeping for several hours, or even days.
"Hello, Draco." The voice hisses. Dumbledore appears in front of me, looking just about as pleasant as a snake. "I see you're up and about. And happy."
I nodded carefully. "Who did this?" I asked, gesturing to my mouth. It stung to talk, but I knew I would have to anyway. I had a feeling he wouldn't be too enthusiastic if I didn't.
"Who do you think?" Dumbledore responded, his eyes void of emotion. He took a step towards me, and bent down. "Our friend Bellatrix."
I nodded. As it was in my dream… suddenly, an overwhelming sadness crashed down upon me. I'd been with Hermione… and it hadn't been real. So I was still far away from her. Still in a hell hole. Still-
"Have we given you enough time to consider who I truly am?" Dumbledore interrupts my train of thought. I nod. He had indeed. For only one person I'd ever known would go to such lengths of torture for one simple answer…
"You must be Lord Voldemort." I stated simply.
He lets out a tingling laugh, cold and horrifying. I cringed. "Well, perhaps you aren't as stupid as we've thought. Right you are, Mr. Malfoy!" Voldemort jeers, laughing hysterically now. "And how did I do it, you ask?"
I didn't. But I was curious.
"That. Is a secret for another time." He stood taller, and then walked back towards the door. "I will see you later, Mr. Malfoy."
The door closed, sending a loud echoing sound through the room. The cell. My prison.
Voldemort was alive.
Sorry it took so long! Good to be back! Update soon!