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☞︎︎︎ "Draco." The older man's weak voice brought the younger boy out of his thoughts, "Promise me you'll do it when that day comes." He pleaded, his eyes devoid of any life but still had a glimmer of hope.
He hopes that his grandson will do what he couldn't.
"I'm not brave." Draco repeated, his voice shaking as much as his hands as he watched his dying ancestor. "I'm not like Potter."
"You don't need to be Potter to be brave, Draco."
"I can't."
"You can. I believe in you, Draco."
His hand's grip on Draco's soon loosened and the boy allowed himself to break down into a sobbing mess.
Draco couldn't do this, he was a cowardly spineless man on whose shoulders the future of the world rested.
The sign on his left arm said one thing, the object on his right hand said another. They both had the same weight and power, he just had to judge which one was heavier.
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