Untitled Part 1

29

TW: blood/torture⚠️

Draco's POV:

My legs were shivering severely, it felt as if they were going to disappear into dust as I was currently the main source of attention.

What if they'll know I'm lying?

What if the potion wears off?

I mentally shook my head in attempt to regain my focus.

I hated the fact that I was so scared.

I felt pathetic.

Even in my last moments, I still loathed to seem weak.

Besides, even if I transform into my true self all of a sudden, that wouldn't be such a bummer.

I'm going to die either way.

My eyes flickered to where Voldemort was standing as I waited for something to occur.

"Harry Potter. The boy who lived, has come to die." He uttered, the tips of his musty, grey fingers were vaguely flickering around with his wand, as he continued.

"I hate to admit this, but Draco had certainly put quite the effort into his new task, it isn't that easy to lure and manipulate someone like you, Mr. Potter."

Somewhere deep in my subconscious was a voice assuring me that he's starting to suspect me.
I mean, he has a point. There's no way I could've tricked Harry that easily and quickly. Let's just hope none of them come to that conclusion just yet.

"Why don't you do us all a favour and just kill the filthy half-blood already? Or perhaps you'd like me to do the honours?" Of course it was Bellatrix. Her wicked, malevolent voice was probably audible to someone who was fifty miles away.

Voldemort briefly glanced at her, and then spoke.
"As inspiring as I find your blood lust, Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter."

And with that, he took one step forward, authorizing my eyes to lock with his.

For some frustrating reason, the shivers couldn't help but run down my spine as he was staring deeply into my soul, like he was inspecting every square inch of me.

As much as I attempted to calm my nerves, anxiety was layering slowly and intensely through my body.
I wasn't even sure why I had been still holding eye contact with him, because the longer he stared at me, the more suspicious he seemed.

And then it hit me.

The scar.

Harry Potter's famous scar.

I must've disregarded that the Polyjuice Potion doesn't work on things like the scratches or marks of the other person.

But it was too late now.

He knew.

And I'm screwed.

The moment in which he tore his devilish gaze from me, was when the excruciating pain began stinging throughout my whole body like kitchen knives, or even worse.

It's probably the Cruciatus Curse.

Everything occurred too quickly.

My trembling figure found company with the inhospitable ground as it jolted uncontrollably as a result of the agonising torture.

All that I could think about was the throbbing agony that flew throughout my entire body, how my limbs and organs felt like they were being ripped apart one by one.
Although I must admit, the feeling of physical torment was quite working as a distraction to all the emotional affliction in which I suffered from.