Time to Kill

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Time to Kill

Chapter 14

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Draco spent the next week becoming intimately familiar with his surroundings. Someone came to force open his eyes every morning at eight. At least, he assumed it was around eight, judging by the direction of the sun sneaking through his cell window. There was a dark crack in the ceiling above his head, a spider was making a web in the far right-hand corner of his cell, and he couldn't be sure, but it sounded like a family of rats was nesting in the wall by his head.

He was tired, but he found it impossible to sleep with his eyes open. Surprisingly he wasn't hungry at all. It was strange, he thought, that he should need sleep but not require food or water. He missed the taste of food very much, to be sure, but he never seemed to get hungry for it.

He'd lost track of the days. He thought perhaps he'd lain there motionless for about eight days, but it was impossible to tell. His priorities had slowly moved from wanting to help Harry, to just wanting to move, to simply wanting a bath. He felt moist and disgusting. He was absolutely certain there was mold growing in his shoe. All in all, it had not been a pleasant week.

The absolute worst part of the situation was the dead body lying next to him.

The body was that of a student who had recklessly attempted to have her revenge on the Dark Lord. The would-be assassin's body had been carelessly tossed into Draco's cell, presumably to warn the boy of what would happen to anyone who tried to save him. The Dark Lord had stormed into the room, dragging the body by the neck. He had dropped the body unceremoniously to the floor by Draco's head, then turned the boy's head so that he looked his former classmate in the eyes. Try as he might, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the face of the student lying next to him. Her eyes were open, frozen in the horror of her last moments of life. Even now, she seemed to be trying to apologize for her traitorous actions. It was Pansy lying lifeless next to him. He could feel the cold coming off her body, sucking all the warmth out of the room. Rats had started gnawing on her rigid flesh about two days ago; one of her cheeks had been entirely torn through, and her tobacco-stained teeth poked through the opening. Her face was twisted toward him, her mouth seeming to be frozen in a mocking smile, taunting him, showing him what he would become, what Harry would become.

How long would it be before Harry's body was in here in place of Pansy's? How long would Draco have to stare into the green eyes he loved, knowing they could no longer love him back? Strangely, the only consolation he had was that the potion would kill him soon.

The sun told him it was sometime after noon when he heard a muffled blast from somewhere outside. He had gotten to the point where he just didn't care about anything outside, but the Death Eaters never started target practice until it was dark. This couldn't be anything but an attack.

If he had been able, Draco would have sighed. This must be it, he thought. Any moment now, Harry would be in here beside him. And Draco would die soon after, a warped Juliet following her (or his) brave Romeo.

Even through the terror of his surroundings, he was able to keep his sarcastic self. This is perfect, he thought cynically. He was paralyzed, there was a dead body of a girl he had known his entire life next to him, the body of whoever they were blasting at outside would soon be in the room, bringing the total casualty rate in the room to 2.5, and he was starting to get MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This" stuck in his head. It was shaping up to be a lovely day.

The door to his cell burst open and a Death Eater he'd never seen before flew in. He smiled nastily. "Dark Lord doesn't want you to see anything." He said in a scratchy, low voice. "So, I'm to take care of it." He closed the boy's eyes.

Great, Draco thought. So I'll hear everything instead of seeing it. Good plan, Tom.

Of course, that was when the Death Eater knocked him out.

*~*

Draco slowly returned to consciousness, noting an obvious change in his surroundings. The very first thing he noticed that really struck him was that he was no longer damp and cold; he felt like he was in a bed. Also, he realized, not only was there not mold in his shoes, his shoes felt entirely different. Then he heard the voices.

"Harry should be here." Granger's voice. She was crying. Silly girls with their ridiculous emotions. "Why didn't he want to come?"

"Hermione, Malfoy's dead. Sitting with a dead body isn't going to make Harry or Draco feel any better." Weasley's voice this time. He was trying to hide it, but he was obviously upset.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. Harry hadn't wanted to see him? How dare he? Draco was lying here, dead to the world, and Harry couldn't even come say goodbye? If Harry had died, Draco would have been by his side no matter what! How on earth-

How on earth had he gotten here in the first place? And Harry was still alive? But for how much longer? And the real question: why were Weasley and Granger here if Harry wasn't? Harry should be here, if only so that someone would have an eye on him!

"I just don't think it's right that he won't come to say goodbye," Hermione continued, sniffling.

"Oh, please, Hermione, you didn't even like him! Malfoy, I mean," the youngest Weasley boy clarified quickly. "Why are you crying?"

"It's just so sad!" she exclaimed. "Harry finally worked up the courage to do it, just to save Draco, and it's still too late!" She sighed dramatically. "So much for 'love conquers all'."

Now Draco was really curious. Harry had worked up the courage to do what? And how had it saved Draco? Where was he?

A door banged open, and the voices of Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall echoed through whatever room they were in. As they got closer, it was evident that they were excited about something.

"Step away from him, Weasley, Granger." Prof. Snape's voice rang out.

"Professor-"

"I said step away!" Warm hands touched his face, examining him softly. Fingers pressed onto his neck.

"Do you believe the antidote will help?" Dumbledore asked, more calmly than Draco felt the situation required.

"What are you talking about?" Weasley's voice interjected. "He doesn't need an antidote; he's already dead!

"Hopefully, that is where you are wrong, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, feeling the boy's wrist.

Draco was enthralled, needless to say. An antidote? Maybe this all could have a happy ending!

"You're wasting your time!"

"Who's watching Harry?" Granger asked suddenly.

"Tonks is watching him in his common room, dear, now step back with me," McGonagall's soothing voice said. "We're not actually sure what will happen."

"You don't know and you're still trying it? What if he explodes or something?" Granger asked worriedly. "And why are you giving a potion to a dead body?"

"He may not be dead," McGonagall said uncertainly. "Professor Snape has invented a potion that makes the victim seem dead, but his consciousness is still inside him. We may be able to revive him."

"So he's...not dead?" Ron asked. "Well, that's great! I'll floo Harry; he'll want to know."

"Mr. Weasley, I would strongly advise you against that," Dumbledore interrupted. "This may not work. He may be actually dead. We don't want to get Harry's hopes up."

"The syringe, Albus," Severus demanded softly. Draco suddenly felt a sharp pain in his arm.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, god," Hermione said breathlessly. "He really is dead."

"No," Severus whispered, his voice sounding strangely...tearful. "No, give it a few seconds."

Slowly, Draco began to feel a burning sensation spreading through his body from the point of the injection. When the warmth reached his legs, they tingled painfully. His arms tensed, his fingers curled in, and his wrists popped.

He became aware of a tightening sensation in his chest. With a body-jerking thump! his heart started beating painfully. His torso expanded suddenly as he gasped to fill his empty lungs. He breathed like a man with a slit throat, and his body convulsed several times.

Gasping and shaking, Draco opened his eyes on his own for the first time in over a week. He shivered uncontrollably as he looked around at the people by his bedside. Hardly seeming to understand what he was doing, Severus gathered his godson up into his arms. He held the shaking boy to his chest and rocked gently back and forth. "Oh, thank god, Draco," he whispered thankfully over and over again. "Thank god."

Draco's shaking slowed, his body safe and warm in his godfather's arms. He took his first good look around and discovered he was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. When he had the strength, he spoke. "Where's-" he started, his mouth as dry as sand. "Where's...Harry?" he finally managed.

"He's in Gryffindor Tower," Professor Lupin said, sitting next to Severus and handing Draco a glass of water. Draco was amazed at all the people who were around him. He was amazed at how all of Harry's friends were gathered around him, simply because Harry cared for him, but the boy himself couldn't even leave his dorm to see his (previously) dead boyfriend.

Draco downed the water and pulled free of his godfather's embrace. He tested his strength slightly, and stepped onto the floor. "I'm going to go see him," he said firmly.

"You're not strong enough, Draco," Granger said gently. "Let us go get him."

The boy swayed uncertainly on his feet, and Severus pushed him back onto the bed. "Maybe that's a good idea," Draco said, putting his hand to his temple to staunch his quickly-forming headache.

Just as Granger and Weasley turned to leave, a woman with strikingly pink hair burst into the room. "Is Harry in here?"

Draco jumped up, fell back over, and stood up more slowly. "What do you mean?"

She looked around nervously, almost on the brink of tears. "He told me he had to use the WC, and I let him go. But he hasn't been back in half an hour!"

There was silence in the room for a few seconds. The tension was broken only when Hermione broke into a sprint out the doors, Ron not far behind.

"I...I don't understand," Draco said. "What's wrong with Harry?"

Severus put a hand on his godson's shoulder. "He's on suicide watch, Draco, but I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Draco shrieked. "He's been missing for half an hour! Of course there's something to worry about!" He looked around, found his shoes, and pulled them on.

"What are you doing, Draco?"

"I'm going to look for him."