Henrietta Potter || Draco Malfoy

51 - Potter's Fate

I didn't move. I just stared at the dead man before me. Every part of me felt numb.

I wanted to feel some sort of jubilation at his death, that justice had finally been served after everything that greasy haired prick had put me through.

But I could not shake off the way he had looked at me in his dying moments. And I just felt this unexplained hollow emptiness inside of me. Glancing down at the glass flask in my trembling hand, I knew the answer lay inside the tears contained within.

And getting those answers suddenly seemed more urgent than killing the snake. Nagini could wait, besides, I could always delegate that job to someone else, I was not called the Chosen One for nothing.

Voldemort's voice cut coldly and loudly into the silence and I quickly jumped up and whirled around, convinced he must have come back into the room. But no one except Draco was there.

"You have fought, valiantly... but in vain."

Draco and I exchanged a horrified glance as Voldemort's menacing tones continued to echo around us.

"Henrietta Potter, I speak now, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself."

"Don't listen to him, Etta," Draco implored, his face twisting in anguish.

"Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. Should you do so I give my word that no other life is lost on this night. You have one hour."

"Etta! Please don't listen to him!" Draco said, sounding desperate this time.

"If, at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me."

Draco instantly closed the gap between us, cupping my face in his hands. He was shaking his head frantically, his grey eyes looking fiercely into mine. "I won't let him get to you, Etta. I'll keep you safe, you know that don't you?"

His voice was so full of panic and desperation that I didn't have the heart to tell him that I never intended to do anything that would put his life at risk. Ever.

"Pensieve." I managed to choke out. Draco's eyes filled with confusion, I could see he was trying to work out what a Pensieve had to do with Voldemort's request.

My hand trembling, I slowly lifted the flask, and his face filled with understanding as his eyes took in the silvery blue liquid within. I needed answers, I needed answers to give me the strength to do what I had to do.

We hurried silently back to the castle, Draco never taking his hand out of mine. I was unable to speak, still in shock at the way Snape was killed.

And then there was Voldemort's request...

Trying not to think of anything but of the glass flask in my hand, I kept my head down and tried not to look at the destruction the battle had caused to the place I had once called home.

I allowed Draco to lead me up the stone steps and into the Entrance Hall. He paused when we passed the doors to the Great Hall. From within I could hear the wailing and despair, and I dared lift my head to face the horror.

There was Fred, dead.

There was Lupin, dead.

There was Tonks, dead.

There was Colin, dead.

I couldn't breathe. All I could see were the dead and the grief stricken mourners surrounding them. That was all there was. There was nothing else.