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Travel Through Time

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It had been five years, almost six since Draco had seen the sun. After the end of the war he had tried to escape with his parents, but they had been caught before they could even leave the gates of Hogwarts. The punishment his mother got wasn’t all that bad, two years in Azkaban, because she hadn’t been directly involved with the plans of the dark lord. Draco and his father on the other hand had gotten much worse. Draco was found guilty of torturing and watching muggles get killed and was sentenced 30 years in Azkaban. His father was sentenced to death for killing many wizard, witches, and muggles. Draco couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the news. His father was going to die while he was was left to rot and go insane in a cell. Those words ended up to be very true.

Draco was currently sitting on the ground of his cell rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. In a month or so it would mark the day he had first stepped foot in this horrid prison. When he first arrived he refused to touch anything fearing the filthiness and grime would give him some sort of illness. Now he couldn’t care less. He had been forced to go through all the memories he had buried deeply too many times to count and having a wall to lean on was better than nothing.

Draco was startled out of thought as a dementor passed by. He scrambled away from the spot he was sitting and hid behind his bed in hopes that it would leave him alone. No such luck. He felt coldness creep up his body. Draco started to shiver as he felt all the warmth he had previously possessed leave. Suddenly he heard screams in the distance. Saw his mother fall to the floor in agony as she offered herself to be tortured in place of Draco. He remembered the pain he had been in when his aunt Bellatrix had torn and ripped apart his mind while she was ‘teaching’ him Occulemncy. All of a sudden he felt a burst of heat. He was back in the Room Of Hidden Things. He sees Crabbe go up in flames, witnesses his flesh start to melt off while Draco escaped, leaving Crabbe to die. Draco feels heavy guilt at the bottom of his stomach. Suddenly he’s back in the manor again. He stands in-front of the Dark Lord. He feels the tears stream down his face as his mother gets thrown across the room. Before he could move to check on her, he gets frozen in place as he feels the Dark Lords cold and demented glare on him. His body then jolts as he gets hit with the Crucio Curse. The pain is beyond imaginable. The sound of his bones cracking and his screams get mixed into one. He feels his body get forced to bend beyond any humans limit. Along with all that, it felt like knives were slowly being pushed into his body. His throat became hoarse and he started to sob uncontrollably. Then it ended. Draco opens his eyes to find himself sprawled out on the floor, breathing heavily, as the dementor floated off to its next unfortunate victim. Having no strength left, Draco passes out.

He wakes up awhile later, having no clue as to how much time had passed when he had been out. He gets up off the floor slowly, leaning heavily on the wall when he’s fully standing. He looks to the front of his cell to find a piece of bread on the ground outside, close enough to grab it. He feels the hunger in his body claw at his stomach. Draco gets tempted to snatch it and scarf it down, but he gets ahold of himself and doesn’t. He has a reason not to eat, even though he is bone thin and starving. Recently he realized that the food that is given to the prisoners is laced with a potion that weakens your magic and makes you tired. Draco decided to stop eating anything so he could get enough magic to perform a spell. This spell was the key to getting out. Out of the prison. Out of this life. Draco was once again forced out of his thoughts, “Hey kid, if yer not gunna eat tha, then give it here.” Draco looked up. The cell in-front of him held the person responsible for the disruption. It was a scraggly lady with black curly hair and a sharp thin face. She looked eerily like his aunt. He shuddered and looked away, slowly retreating back to his bed. “Hey! You brat! Ye just gunna leave it!? Give it here! Give it here! Give it here!” He ignored her yells. He got to his bed and climbed on it. Bringing his knees up to his chest, Draco started to count the cracks in the wall opposite of him. It kept him busy and helped him keep the remaining of his sanity. He counted and counted and counted, until he started to get tired. The lady across from him had stopped yelling, but he could occasionally here her grumble ‘give it here’. He felt himself start to drift off. Fear crept through his body as a nightmare began to form.

Two days had passed. Long and slow they had been. Filled with many tears and much pain like every other day. But today was special. Draco felt it in his bones. He had gotten enough magic to finally perform his spell. Draco had practiced day and night on how to channel his magic to his hands. He finally was able to cast his first spell without a wand. The spell that would let him leave and never come back. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. The spell had to be done quickly before anyone or anything could interrupt him. Concentrating, he started to feel his magic slowly move. It was weak and meager, and it was barley enough to do the spell. Draco took his hands and pointed them towards himself. He uttered out the spell. Everything went black as he fell to the floor.

Draco Malfoy 1980 - 2003
Reason of death: Killing Curse
Last words: Avada Kedrava