imprisonment

Chapter 2; D

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"Draco," Lucius said at almost a whisper reaching his hand towards his son. The crowd of students turned their heads to the boy. At this moment he wished he was invisible. He didn't want to be the Malfoy heir, the bully his classmates had come to know, or the boy who was tasked with killing Dumbledore. He wanted to watch all the expectations his father had for him fade into the evening sky. He wanted to just be a kid. Thoughts filled his head until they were interrupted once more by his father calling his name.

He stood right next to Luna Lovegood, on the side with the rest of his classmates. His hair was ruffled and he had a cut on his face from almost being burnt to a crisp in the room of requirement. He couldn't hide the frown on his face and his heart rate sped up knowing he had to walk towards the Dark Lord. There was a lump in his throat and his thoughts raced. He wanted to stay put. He glanced around and thought to himself if just one person asked him to stay he would.

No one did. He knew better. He was a bully and everyone knew it. He had so much anger built up in him from years of being held to high expectations, years of being compared to Harry. It ate him alive to never be good enough for his father. All he wanted was to be appreciated and he got that on the dark side. He was the chosen one there and he let his morals crack because for once it felt good to be needed.

"Draco," his mother's soft voice rang from the crowd. He knew at this point no one cared for him to stay and as much as he wanted to he knew no one would accept him if he did. He stood planted in his spot for a few more moments before slowly walking towards Narcissa. Draco loved his mother with his whole heart and walked to the dark side for her.

A part of him wished someone cared enough to ask him to stay, but he knew he didn't deserve their sympathy. Maybe he was as heartless as everyone thought. Years spent studying occlumency didn't allow for emotions. He disassociated himself as Voldemort wrapped his arm around his shoulders and his body felt like it was on autopilot until he was in his mother's arms. The teenage boy would never admit it, but it felt safe. All he wanted was to be a child again wrapped in a duvet listening to Narcissa read to him. He was lost in his thoughts when they were interrupted by Neville pulling out the sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat.

The dark side charged towards him and mass chaos insighted. Spells were being thrown from both sides and everyone was running. The Dark Lord yelled to his followers to capture every witch or wizard who didn't pledge their allegiance. This was his chance. Draco waited for the right moment and ran with all the energy he could muster. His muscles ached but he pushed himself further and further. He had almost made it out of the courtyard when suddenly his body froze.

"We have a runner," a burly man said after petrifying Draco. The man put Draco's hands behind his back and began to drag him against the gravel. His eyes began to water and his head throbbed. He could see Hemione captured along with the rest of the rebels. Even though he wasn't friends with many of them his chest burned. Memories of Goyle falling into the fiendfyre flashed before him. Everyone had lost someone today and it wasn't going to stop.

Draco wondered where his mother was and wished her safety. He would never let a soul know that he secretly cared and breathed slowly to close his mind and push out his feelings. He didn't even realize when he was being apparated to Azkaban-- a place for traitors like him

                                          ***

Draco woke up lying on the dirty concrete floor. He ran to the mirror and got a look at himself. There was dirt and dried up blood covering his face. He ripped his shirt over his head and gripped the grimy sink. Bruises littered his abdomen and every movement sent shooting pain in all directions. He splashed some water in his face and took a deep breath.