Untitled Part 1

27

A/N: The following actions are still occurring in the flashback, a month ago.
However, it will be written from the Author's POV.

TW: suicidal thoughts⚠️

It didn't take long enough for Harry's skin to go ashen and eyes shut down. He lost the colour from his face, it was as if his heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down into his boots. Then nausea crept from his abdomen to his head and the world went black. He stumbled forward before he fell, Draco grabbing his arms as he tumbled. Harry laid there in the dirt as still as a corpse, barely breathing at all.

Draco suddenly found himself bending down on his knees, eyes focusing on the unconscious figure that laid before him. The tips of his pale fingers traced their way along Harry's senseless face, up to his forehead that was barely even visible due to that messy hair of his. Draco let out a small breath that he didn't know was being held, as he felt the sides of his quivering lips rise up slowly, forming a sort of sad smile.
He never thought in a million years that things would come up to this, him kneeling besides his sworn enemy, the one and only chosen one, waiting for the time to come so he would go and sacrifice himself for him.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was willing to do everything in his power to save Harry's life, even if it means he had to take away his own.

It was something about Potter that made Draco weak to his knees. He for sure didn't enjoy being his rival, however the thought of becoming friends with him was even worse.
There was a thin line between love and hate within the two, and Draco was certain to keep it that way.

Truth is, he wasn't only doing this for Potter, but for himself too. Ever since Draco had unwillingly received that vicious death eater mark, things haven't been the same. He may not show it on the outside, but Draco was neither that evil little prick who made Hogwarts a living hell for Harry and his friends anymore, nor that narcissistic boy who believes that pureblood supremacy is valid, and for sure he wasn't daddy's little puppet no more.

He's now able to differentiate the right from the wrong.
He can make his own choices.
He's changed.
And it seems that only Harry had truly believed that, since he was the one who practically changed him somehow.

Not only did Draco's perception of the world differ now, but his vision of his own self did too.
The difference is, it didn't really change for the better, but for the quite opposite in fact.
Hence now, his life meant nothing to him.
The urge to feel worthless all the time has been growing severely.
The constant voice in the back of his head telling him that he doesn't deserve neither life nor love has been getting louder and louder.
He couldn't bear living with himself like that after everything he's done, not anymore.
Everyone's life was better off without him in it, or so he thought.
He hadn't even questioned what would his mother say about this, or even worse, what would she feel, how would she cope.
But he knew for a fact that even his mum was worthy of a better son than him. He may have never said it to her face but the only wish he has is for her to be free, and live the life she always deserved.

Draco noticed that the time was ticking. He had to hide Harry, in a safe place, but not too far from here.

He carried him bridal way until he found a decent spot.

Time was ticking, he knew he had to get this over with.
Draco was aware that the potion would start taking a action after a couple of minutes. So he had to drink it sooner or later.

Polyjuice Potion.

As crazy as it sounds,

He was going to transform into Harry.

Draco had every ingredient necessary for it, and since he's quite the master at brewing, it didn't take much long.

However, there was still something missing.

A strand of Potter's hair was the key to completing the potion, all he had to was gently pluck it out.

~10 minutes later~

Draco was sure that it succeeded. He had shrunk severely in height, meanwhile his hair grew darker and puffier. That was quite enough evidence to prove that he was ready.

The path at his feet fades as it leads into the darkness of the woods, yet he followed it must for the sake of himself. His feet follow the narrow strip of naked earth among the giants of root and leaf. Draco let his hands touch their skin as he passes, feeling their gentle spirits soothe his own. For this is their world as they stretch toward the light they never see yet sense, and he must do the same.

The mannor wasn't so far from where he was. The dark woods of deepened hue found tranquility in the starlit velvet, in the steady glow of moonlight. The trees released the sounds of a plethora of nocturnal ghosts, of they who may move safely within the hug of grey shadowed night. It stood as noble black knights, fresh from the fields of legend.
From the rich brown earthen hues of the forest ground to the sweetness of the pitch black night sky, the forest was a three dimensional wonderland for the eyes who are willing to absorb the light.

It was beyond silent to the point where Draco, who was technically Harry, could hear his own trembling breath.
He had arrived.
Standing before the severely enormous castle, he was sort of confused as to why there weren't any death eaters roaming around the mannor.

And with that,

I hope you're enjoying my story:)