When The Sword Falls - (A Drarry Fanfic)

Am I Dead? Is This Hell?

A/N: I'm not good at writing fanfiction, unfortunately, so this one's going to end in a few more chapters. Don't worry, I'm thinking of a sequel, but...eh, we'll see how that goes. Thank you for reading! P.S. I still do not own H.P. P.P.S I don't speak Russian, so I used Google Translate for this one - sorry if it's not the right meaning.

Draco 

I hear screams.

Damon thinks I am dead, but he has never been more wrong. I keep tabs on him still - ever since he has left home, I have scryed him on multiple occasions. Ever since I have been bitten, my magic is stronger - I can send my consciousness flying, I can see whatever the person I am scrying is seeing.

I can hear and feel their thoughts, their every move.

Tonight, he is out hunting again, with the faerie - the one they call Abaddon.

They are at some sort of Muggle orphanage, in another country - Russia, I think.

Damon uses his magic to render all the security cameras useless. Swiftly, he moves into the greybrick building and turns the staff unconscious.

"They're all yours," Damon whispers, and the faerie lets out a long, low laugh - so low it manages to shake the very foundations of the building. Abaddon swoops into room after room.

Terrible, horrible screams punctuate the otherwise still and silent air.

Damon has placed spells around the building, so that Muggles outside will not be able to hear the noise.

More screams, terrible ones. Crying, praying.

I cannot take it. I feel my consciousness move towards the noise. I dart into the first few rooms and recoil away from the bloody messes on the beds.

These children cannot be saved.

"No - NO, PLEASE, GET AWAY! POZHALUYSTA, NE DELAYTE MNE BOL'NO, POZHALUYSTA - PLEASE - "

Please don't hurt me, please.

It is a girl - she is crying for her mother.

"MUMIYA! PAPA! BOZHE, POZHALUYSTA!" 

Mummy. Daddy. Oh God, please!

I cannot bear it. I rush into the room and witness something terrible.

Abaddon has hung her by her ankles, and his jaws - for he has morphed again - are expanding, readying themselves to swallow the girl whole.

She is crying, her tears falling into her dark, raven hair.

No one can see me when I am scrying - or so I am told.

But at this point of time, the girl sees me, from where I am floating above the faerie's head, a ghost.

She meets my gaze - and I see that her eyes are green.

"Please," she whispers, before the faerie cuts her throat.

I scream, and the screams from the rest of the children mixes in with mine.

I cannot help them - I do not know how.

I let the orphanage fade around me and soon, I am back in my room.

Mother is stroking my hair, humming softly under her breath. My silk pajamas are plastered onto my body with sweat.