CURSED [D.M]

-(64) she makes me weak

tw// sexual assault

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DRACO closes the bottle of dittany and places it back upon the shelf. He shuts the cupboard and stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes ghostly and drained. He hardly recognises this person he's looking at. Or maybe he does- maybe he sees someone else- maybe he sees Lucius- and that's what scares him even more. He shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to bring Zilliah's words from that day to the forefront of his mind.

"The wars of our fathers are not ours to bear."

But it has become his war now. And he sees no way out of it.

Blood stains his arms and torso so he strips himself off all his clothes and hops into the shower to rinse it out.

Pansy, Theo and Draco had been on the hunt for the students that had not returned to Hogwarts. Carol Smith and George Sinclair, two fourth year Ravenclaws among that list, were spotted outside Hogsmeade. The three of them were assigned to catch those kids and produce them before Voldemort.

Upon finding them, even though Draco managed to break their wands, they had put up a good fight. Sinclair broke Theo's right arm and Smith sliced through Pansy's left leg with a pocket knife. Only Draco suffered minimal damage, a few cuts here and there. After petrifying the pair of them, he had bound them by chains and took his friends to the hospital by apparition.

It was a great risk, doing apparition while they were injured, but Pansy absolutely refused to step into Hogwarts being what she is now.

It's only after ensuring that they're okay that he had gone back to the place where he had tied the kids up. Casting the levitation spell on their bodies, he had then apparated with them to the Dark Lord's Lair. Unable to move, they could not struggle as he walked through the gates of that place where their deaths were assured. But their eyes told him more than anything else ever could.

They were silently begging him to let them go, their eyes screaming for escape. But he had no choice. He could not have failed Voldemort again or there was no doubt that he would've became Nagini's next snack instead of them. So it had to be their lives in place of his.

A sacrifice. Like a lamb to please the raging God.

But does his life hold more value than theirs? Does he really deserve to live more than they do? What makes one life more important than the other? These are all questions that had troubled Draco as he took the two young kids inside, a raging war inside his head.

But he did what he had to. He pushed all those thoughts behind a door in his mind and locked it with his skill in occlumency.

As long as he doesn't feel, it will be alright.

The cuts on his body sting at the contact of water but he needs to wash himself before he can get to Zilliah. He doesn't want her to worry about him. She has enough and more on her plate right now.

He gets out of the shower and uses the concealing spell to hide his cuts and bruises. Wrapping a towel around his lower body, he steps out of the bathroom and gets fresh clothes. He changes into a comfortable green sweater and black baggy pants and walks into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of apple juice, downing it in one go. As he tosses the empty bottle into the wastebin, the doorbell rings.

He isn't expecting anyone. Especially this late into the evening. The sun had already set casting a beautiful orange hue inside his apartment. He would've taken a moment to sit and admire it if his mind wasn't still in turmoil.

He walks upto the door and looks through the peephole, instantly groaning as he sees who it is. "Go away", he says, loud enough for her to hear, growing a thousand times more irritated at seeing her on his doorsteps.