Another fic, I know. But with all this summer school (ah the walking for fitness is so relaxing) I'm thinking that maybe I'll have what it takes to keep up with 5 fics...maybe. Besides, most of them are close to closing anyway. Okay, only one, but that's fine. My sister convinced me that I had to edit this and post it-I wrote it a few months ago, and never gave it a second glance. But she loved it...same deal with Girl Boy (which, surprisingly, had great feedback) in that if I get less than 10 reviews, I'll bury it. Sorry, but I just don't want to spend all this time writing a story that not many people are going to read. I don't really have all that much time...although, if your reviews are extra-tasty, maybe I'll make an exception *wink*.
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Fading
Chapter One: Realization
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It seems weird, really. When I was alive...in my reign, I was the most godlike wizard you could come by. I probably had more influence than the all-mighty Merlin. What a joke. A bloody joke.
I woke up this morning...well, not really. I couldn't have woken up, because that requires one to be, well, alive. But I did, in a sense, wake up.
I guess I should start from the beginning.
If this story is going to be told rightly, I should start with Hogwarts. That's not necessary, however...that's the part everyone knows. I hated Harry Potter, I was the bastard, yeah it's all said and done. I loved my life.
The summer after fifth year, my father escaped Azkaban. He yanked me out of bed, apparated us and immediately scalded the dark mark onto my arm. The blinding pain...I still have nightmares about it. Well, had.
I always wondered why those god forsaken ghosts trampled around in their translucent skins, choosing to live this way instead of going beyond.
Now I understand.
But I'm getting away from the beginning. After the dark mark, I was a certified death eater. My father took me out of Hogwarts-"Absolute shit," he said-and I was trained in the dark arts, how to be the perfect servant. It was a few months later that I met Voldemort himself...I'll never forget it. As a Malfoy, I wasn't scared of anything. But when I heard his voice, if you would call it a voice...it sent an unspoken chill down my spine as I realized what the word "fear" truly meant.
So obviously, the second great war started. I was sent into battle, ready to kill all those filthy mudblood lovers and other shitheads who got in my way.
That's when I saw Ginny Weasley on the battlefield.
She was scurrying around as only a Weasley could, waving her wand and performing healing spells, dodging curses and scurrying some more. Imagine, a Weasley worth something on the battlefield.
"Ron!" she screamed, her brown eyes staring at her brother. I whipped my head around, and the image I saw...another thing I'll never forget. Weasley had a look of complete shock, falling backwards onto the damp ground. He never let go of his wand. My father had a look of satisfaction, throwing a sneer towards Harry Potter, who had watched this spectacle with a look of despair and hatred on his face.
But before I could do anything, a tingling feeling hit the bottom of my spine. Momentary pain...
...then blackness.
While I was alive, I never truly believed I was evil. Sure, I did some things that the great Harry Potter would never do. But that didn't mean it was wrong...
But when you die, when you leave everything behind...everything becomes clear. That's what happened. I woke up...I realized. Realized what I fucking did all my fucking life.
And I had it decided then and there. I was going to change it.
Now, you ask me, how could I change my life after I was dead? Well, a Malfoy never gives up. A simple bloody thing like death wouldn't get in the way of what I wanted.
I contemplate these things while walking alongside a river, the fog clouding my vision. Death does to you what Azkaban would do to you. If you're innocent...you'll maintain your sanity. If you're guilty...it's all Hell for you.
I crouched down, holding my head in my hands. I was passing the dementors again; I expected to see them soaring past me at any given moment.
"Save me!" the boy screamed, seeing me.
"Go, go ahead," my father sneered, pushing me towards him. "Save him."
Screams echoed in my ears...Merlin I was sorry...
"You'll never get what you want," she said, spitting on me.
"You insolent bitch, you-"
"You'll get yours in Hell, Malfoy! You bastard, you'll get yours!"
I pushed her against the wall, silencing her...regret coursed through my veins...
"Mother?!" I screamed, running through the ruins of Malfoy Manor. "Mother!"
I found a body at my feet then, burnt beyond recognition. But I knew...
"Ready?" I looked up, the voices in my head fading away slowly. Blinking rapidly I got up, trying to see the person in front of me. The voice sounded so familiar...
"Who..."
"That's of no concern," the voice said again. "Are you ready?"
"For what," I asked, giving the person a side glance. For some reason, everything around me was fuzzy...everything was falling out of perception...all I could conceive was the person in front of me was a woman, blonde hair flowing in the breeze...
"No one knows," she said, and I wanted to punch her. Curse her. Do...something. "Are you ready?"
"Stop asking me that!" I yelled, rubbing my eyes angirly.
"Are you-"
"No! I don't...I'm not..." I don't want to die!
"Then what? You wish to walk alongside the bank forever...bear the pain and regret for all eternity? Or perhaps run away from it all, be a coward...go back to the living? What do you wish?"
"I don't know! I don't know what I bloody want! I just..." I want a second chance.
The woman gave me a side glance, her pale blue eyes scrutinizing me momentarily.
"You do understand there is no hope." Sobs wanted to come out when she said that.
"There's always hope," I said softly, remembering my mother. She had said it to me the morning after I had gotten my dark mark...seeing it, her face had paled.
"I don't want my son to die for a cause that is not worth dying for," she had muttered.
"Who is she?" the woman asked, her blue eyes shining. "That woman."
"My mother."
"Did you love her?"
"Yes," I breathed, my chest suddenly heaving.
"Then there may be hope." I looked over then, the woman with her blue eyes and her blonde hair and that smile...
"Mother?"
"Draco," she said, whispered. "What do you want most of all?"
For some reason, I couldn't lie. I couldn't say power...money...all the women I could ask for. Suddenly, the only thing I could hear was little Weaslette's voice as she screamed for her brother, the only thing I could see was the look on Potter's face when Weasley died...the shriek that was only Granger's as she saw her fiancé fall ringing in my ears.
"Love," I said, looking up at her. She smiled upon hearing my words and she stepped closer, cupping my face in her hands.
"Then may you find it." My chest was painfully heaving then, breaths coming in short puffs. I couldn't breathe...couldn't understand... "I'm giving you what I couldn't give you before, Draco."
"Mother, you..." But she was fading away, everything was fading away, fading away into a blackened mist.
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"M-Malfoy?!"
I groaned, my head a pounding mess.
"What the bloody...you died, you...oh bloody Merlin,"
"Weasley, shut the fuck up..."
"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin..."
"Didn't I tell you to shut up?!"
"Ginny?" Ginny swiveled around, her brown eyes still wide in bewilderment. "What are you-"
"Harry, Harry look! Malfoy, it's Malfoy, he-"
"Ginny, what-"
"He's right there! Bloody there!" she screamed, pointing. "Can't you...can't you see him?"
Potter stared at her, his voice breaking as he said, "Gin, I know we've all suffered, but-"
"I'm telling you, Malfoy's laying right there!"
"Malfoy. Is. Dead." Potter stated, his hands grabbing Ginny's shoulders and lightly shaking her. "He's dead, he's not coming back. That's what death does, Gin."
"I-I know! But he's-"
"I'm right here, Potter," I muttered. All this screaming was truly boiling my bloody nerves...
"He's not there, okay? Are you...are you okay?"
"Harry, this has nothing to do with Ron! I'm telling you, Draco Malfoy is sitting right there!"
"Potter, are you deaf? Listen to that Weasley for once." What was Potter doing?
"Ginny, Draco Malfoy is dead!"
"I know that, but he's still right there!"
"For bloody sake Potter, do you need to repair your ears as well as your glasses?!" I got up and began to walk up to him angrily.
"Ginny! Listen to me! Draco Malfoy is not right there! He isn't anywhere here, but in an endless tomb, with all the others who were left on the battle field!"
"My...what?" The dream I had came rushing back. The river...fog...
...Mother...
"He...you didn't even give him a proper burial?"
"You expect him to be worthy of one after everything he's done?"
"Potter-" I started, but Weaslette beat me to it.
"Everyone deserves a proper burial, at the very least. Are we going to go to his level, and not give the enemy a burial? I'm not saying flowers and a ceremony, Harry, but-"
"I know, Gin. And we did. Dumbledore did it." But I couldn't think. All I could comprehend was that my body, my beautiful body...was left on the battlefield. Nobody had bothered to save it, salvage it. They left it to enemy hands...and now, now I was on the top of dead bodies, in some endless pit.
Ginny glanced to me and her eyes caught mine, startled, I suppose, to see the expression on my face. Maybe she thought a Malfoy couldn't look like anything other than a sneering arrogant bastard...and I'll admit, that's what I usually was.
"That's...okay, Harry. I don't...see him anymore," she said, while staring right at me. What was that bloody Weasley playing at?
"Oh, okay. I was worried there for a second, Gin...maybe you should still see Madame Pomfrey? Just to make sure-"
"No, no I'm sure..." she said, her glance coming to rest on Potter's face instead of mine.
"Allright. I have to go now, Gin, just had to come by and see you..."
"Okay Harry, I'll see you later tonight." Potter gave Weaslette a smile and leaned in. They kissed for a few moments and after they broke away, he kissed her cheek lightly and walked out of the infirmary.
"What was that about, Weasley?" I sneered.
"What was what about?"
"Nevermind."
"Your tactics don't get to me anymore, Malfoy, so give it up."
"As in they used to get to you?"
"Of course not." I almost smiled then, but the amusement died as I sat back down and nestled my head in my hands. "Am I a ghost?" I asked, not to anyone in particular...
"No." I snapped my head up, staring at the Weaslette as she kneeled in front of me. "See?" she said as she poked me in the ribs. I burst out in laughter, but quickly tried to bury it and feign anger.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Weasley?!"
"Look, I can touch you, so you aren't a ghost, allright?" After a moment she added, "So...you're ticklish, hm?"
"N-No..."
"Oh, really?"
"A Malfoy has no weaknesses."
"Then you must not be a Malfoy," she said as she grinned evilly, a malicious, teasing glint appearing in her eyes. It made her look almost...sexy.
"So I'm not a ghost. Then what am I?"
"I wonder if anyone else can see you...maybe you're like a Thestral, in that only a certain group of people can see you..."
"Mmm."
"Maybe I should ask Hermione about spirits and such. I mean...you are dead, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I suppose so. I saw-" I broke off though, not wanting to tell the Weaslette anything. She wouldn't want to hear, anyways.
"You saw what?"
"Nothing."
"Just tell me, Malfoy."
"No."
"What, you don't trust me?"
"Why should I?" Our eyes were locked, her gentle brown eyes gazing into my blazing gray ones. She blinked, suddenly coming to herself as I said that.
"Y-you're right. What was I thinking," she said with a small smile, turning away from me. Suddenly, things between the Weaslette and me was as it was during Hogwarts days. Nothing. I almost missed what we shared for the few minutes we had it.
"I'm- "
"So I'm going to talk to Hermione about this. You just...stay here. Or something. I'll be back in a few minutes." Ginny walked out of the infirmary without even looking back, an edge to her walk that convinced me she wasn't okay.
Thank Merlin she had interrupted me when she had. I had almost said the two words I knew I would come to regret. I'm sorry. A Malfoy is never sorry.
"You're okay with this?" I said suddenly, just as she was out of the door. "I mean...why're you doing this?" She must have some ulterior motive. Nobody was that...nice. Even goody-ass Potter wouldn't help out a Malfoy, less of all me.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because you hate me." Merlin, wasn't it obvious? Or was she just that stupid?
"I don't hate you." My eyebrows rose of their own accord. "I just don't like you. That's perfectly normal."
"But you act like...like this happens everyday." She shrugged at me, that teasing smile once again on her face.
"Weirder things have happened, Malfoy."
And as she walked out, with that smile still tugging on her lips, I also smiled for the first time in a long, long while.
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