HP Oneshot: The Way of Sacrifice
Oct. 16th, 2009 12:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jesterladyficTitle: The Way of Sacrifice
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Draco makes a different choice on the tower, but it's inspired by some real issues, I believe.
Warning: CHARACTER DEATH!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, no profit was made or sought. The title is by Dehquani-Tafti of Tehran
The Way of Sacrifice
He gripped his wand so tightly he could feel his hand going numb. But he knew that if he didn’t his hand would shake so much he’d drop it. Staring across the space between them, he had to tell himself that this was the moment. He’d prepared, he’d agonized, he’d all but sweated blood for this moment. And he’d made his choice.
“You don’t have to do this, Draco, you’re not a killer,” came the calm
voice from across the tower.
“And how would you know, old man?” he spat out, desperately trying to
keep the fear from his voice. “You don’t know anything about me. My family will
be killed. I will be killed. Don’t act like you care. You tolerate my presence
as I tolerate yours. You don’t even want me here.”
“Draco, I’ve been protecting you all year long. You just haven’t
realized it.”
“What with Snape dogging my every step? I’d watch out for that one if I
were you.”
“Professor Snape has been watching you on my orders.”
“He’s a double agent.”
“We’ll just have to disagree on that, my boy. Now…as long as we’re
having this pleasant chat, why don’t we discuss some options? This isn’t the
way, Draco, I can protect you.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” He’d never been so far from laughing in his
life. “You see, I figured it out. I’ve had time to this year. Sure, most of it
was spent preparing for this moment, but I had to come to that knowing why I was
- why I would…and it’s your fault.” Draco’s voice gained in strength as he put
everything he had into his words. “You talk about protecting me? You stupid,
old coot. Do you think that by dueling Dark Wizards and strolling these halls
humming to yourself that you were protecting us! That’s not what we need
protecting from. It’s from our parents…from our families. I’ve needed
protection since the moment I was born and I’m not talking about the Dark Arts.
I’m talking about being given no options, being forced to accept things without
knowing why.” Draco stopped, but Dumbledore made no move to speak, for once
seeming to not know what to say. Draco swallowed raggedly and continued.
“It’s not just me, you know. Not just at home. We’re children when we
come here and we’re sorted into our places by a stupid hat and told that’s who
we’re allowed to be friends with. Don’t give me any nonsense about cross house
friendships. It’s a rarity and we both know it. The bloody Gryffindors, bred to
hate and shut out anyone who’s not in their code, the Ravenclaws, with their
heads in the clouds, not knowing or caring what’s going on, the poor, inane
Hufflepuffs, told that they’re not good enough and made to be ordinary, never
given a chance to succeed, and…and Slytherins, stuck in a cesspool of their
parents’ making with no one to tell them any different, forced to lash out just
to get the attention they deserve. You could’ve changed that. You should’ve
done something! For that and because he’ll kill my family if I don’t finish my
mission, I’m going to kill you.”
“Draco, I’m sorry. You’re right.” The quiet words reflected off the
high tower ceiling and made him flinch.
“I know it’s wrong. Don’t you think I’ve figured that out?” His words
rose to a scream, desperate to convey their meaning. “I know it’s wrong! But
I’m going to pay for what I do, and so will you.”
There was noise on the stairs and Dumbledore nodded.
“Tell your story, Draco.”
“I won’t be here to tell it,” he said calmly, his moment come.
Dumbledore glanced at the empty wall.
“Then someone else will have to tell it for you.”
He didn’t understand what the old man meant. But he braced himself just
as Snape came running up the stairs.
“Avada Kedavra.” The words as dry as death. The green light flashed in Dumbledore's eyes and then he fell. Snape gaped in astonishment and put his hand
on Draco’s shoulder.
“Tell him I did it, keep them safe,” Draco said with the voice of a man dead. He bolted forward and leapt after Dumbledore, Snape’s arms grasping for him too late.
Snape’s eyes closed in pain before he turned and left.
After what seemed like an hour, Harry’s mind started to work again and he went to the tower ledge and looked down at the broken figures of the man he looked up to more than anything and the boy who was just as chosen and choice less as he.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Draco makes a different choice on the tower, but it's inspired by some real issues, I believe.
Warning: CHARACTER DEATH!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, no profit was made or sought. The title is by Dehquani-Tafti of Tehran
The Way of Sacrifice
He gripped his wand so tightly he could feel his hand going numb. But he knew that if he didn’t his hand would shake so much he’d drop it. Staring across the space between them, he had to tell himself that this was the moment. He’d prepared, he’d agonized, he’d all but sweated blood for this moment. And he’d made his choice.
“You don’t have to do this, Draco, you’re not a killer,” came the calm
voice from across the tower.
“And how would you know, old man?” he spat out, desperately trying to
keep the fear from his voice. “You don’t know anything about me. My family will
be killed. I will be killed. Don’t act like you care. You tolerate my presence
as I tolerate yours. You don’t even want me here.”
“Draco, I’ve been protecting you all year long. You just haven’t
realized it.”
“What with Snape dogging my every step? I’d watch out for that one if I
were you.”
“Professor Snape has been watching you on my orders.”
“He’s a double agent.”
“We’ll just have to disagree on that, my boy. Now…as long as we’re
having this pleasant chat, why don’t we discuss some options? This isn’t the
way, Draco, I can protect you.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” He’d never been so far from laughing in his
life. “You see, I figured it out. I’ve had time to this year. Sure, most of it
was spent preparing for this moment, but I had to come to that knowing why I was
- why I would…and it’s your fault.” Draco’s voice gained in strength as he put
everything he had into his words. “You talk about protecting me? You stupid,
old coot. Do you think that by dueling Dark Wizards and strolling these halls
humming to yourself that you were protecting us! That’s not what we need
protecting from. It’s from our parents…from our families. I’ve needed
protection since the moment I was born and I’m not talking about the Dark Arts.
I’m talking about being given no options, being forced to accept things without
knowing why.” Draco stopped, but Dumbledore made no move to speak, for once
seeming to not know what to say. Draco swallowed raggedly and continued.
“It’s not just me, you know. Not just at home. We’re children when we
come here and we’re sorted into our places by a stupid hat and told that’s who
we’re allowed to be friends with. Don’t give me any nonsense about cross house
friendships. It’s a rarity and we both know it. The bloody Gryffindors, bred to
hate and shut out anyone who’s not in their code, the Ravenclaws, with their
heads in the clouds, not knowing or caring what’s going on, the poor, inane
Hufflepuffs, told that they’re not good enough and made to be ordinary, never
given a chance to succeed, and…and Slytherins, stuck in a cesspool of their
parents’ making with no one to tell them any different, forced to lash out just
to get the attention they deserve. You could’ve changed that. You should’ve
done something! For that and because he’ll kill my family if I don’t finish my
mission, I’m going to kill you.”
“Draco, I’m sorry. You’re right.” The quiet words reflected off the
high tower ceiling and made him flinch.
“I know it’s wrong. Don’t you think I’ve figured that out?” His words
rose to a scream, desperate to convey their meaning. “I know it’s wrong! But
I’m going to pay for what I do, and so will you.”
There was noise on the stairs and Dumbledore nodded.
“Tell your story, Draco.”
“I won’t be here to tell it,” he said calmly, his moment come.
Dumbledore glanced at the empty wall.
“Then someone else will have to tell it for you.”
He didn’t understand what the old man meant. But he braced himself just
as Snape came running up the stairs.
“Avada Kedavra.” The words as dry as death. The green light flashed in Dumbledore's eyes and then he fell. Snape gaped in astonishment and put his hand
on Draco’s shoulder.
“Tell him I did it, keep them safe,” Draco said with the voice of a man dead. He bolted forward and leapt after Dumbledore, Snape’s arms grasping for him too late.
Snape’s eyes closed in pain before he turned and left.
After what seemed like an hour, Harry’s mind started to work again and he went to the tower ledge and looked down at the broken figures of the man he looked up to more than anything and the boy who was just as chosen and choice less as he.
