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“Well, well. If it isn’t our evil little Death Eater. Why are you all alone? Where are your little followers?”
Several older Gryffindors in red trimmed robes had Draco surrounded. They mocked him openly, laughing at their own jokes while Draco simply stared back with a blank expression and refused to respond.
“What’s wrong? Nothing to say? Do Death Eaters get scared too?”
One of them stepped forward and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes, forcing him to raise his head.
“Weren’t you always so arrogant? Didn’t the Malfoys think they were better than everyone else? Look at you now.”
“You think staying quiet will make us leave you alone? Draco Malfoy, don’t be naive. We all lived through the war. My parents suffered because of people like yours. The debts your family owes will be paid back, one by one.”
“I remember hearing an old saying from the East. A father’s debts are paid by his son. Tell me, how exactly do you plan on repaying a debt of blood?”
Not a ripple crossed Draco’s gray blue eyes.
A cold smile curved across his lips. He lifted his chin, every bit the polished pure blood aristocrat. As elegant as ever.
And just as vicious.
“I believe your surname is Irwin, isn’t it?” Draco said with a sneer. “Even if the Malfoy family has fallen from its former position, that still doesn’t give a Mudblood like you the right to speak about us.”
His eyes narrowed.
They were nothing but ice.
“During the war, my father wasn’t actively involved. The Dark Lord took his wand long before the final battle. My mother never bore the Dark Mark. I have never killed anyone. In fact, my mother and I saved Harry Potter’s life.”
“The Ministry hasn’t found my family guilty of anything. So tell me, Mudblood. What right do you have to demand repayment from a Malfoy?”
Irwin was left speechless.
The repeated use of Mudblood pushed him beyond anger.
With a violent shove, he sent Draco crashing to the ground.
“Incarcerous!”
The spell struck Draco before he could react.
His body locked in place.
“Crucio!”
The moment Draco heard the curse, his eyes widened.
There was no time to move.
No time to defend himself.
Pain exploded through every nerve in his body.
It felt as though his bones were being torn apart from the inside.
He curled in on himself, teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached.
Still, he refused to scream.
“Shartel Irwin!” Draco gasped once the curse finally ended. His face was pale, but his eyes blazed with fury. “You’ll end up in Azkaban. I promise you that.”
Irwin burst out laughing.
“That’s hilarious, Malfoy. Who do you think is going to believe you?”
He looked around.
“Did any of you see anything?”
The others immediately shook their heads.
A few of them had already gone pale.
Even they looked frightened by Irwin.
“Nobody’s coming to save you, Malfoy.”
Irwin crouched down beside him.
“But if you beg nicely, maybe I’ll be in a good enough mood to let you go.”
“In your dreams.”
Even pinned to the floor, Draco refused to lower his head.
Spell after spell struck him.
To keep anyone from noticing, they cast Muffliato and several concealment charms around the area.
Eventually the pain became too much.
A cry escaped him despite his best efforts.
Encouraged by Irwin, several others joined in.
Fortunately, none of them dared use another Unforgivable Curse.
*
By the time Draco regained full awareness, they were gone.
He lay sprawled across the floor.
Every inch of him hurt.
It felt as though his body no longer belonged to him.
As if even the slightest movement might kill him.
To their credit, they had been careful.
They left no visible injuries behind.
Someone had even cast a Cleaning Charm before leaving.
By the time Draco limped back to the Slytherin dungeons, curfew had already begun.
The moment he stepped into the common room, he saw Pansy, Blaise, Nott, and Goyle waiting for him.
Pansy was on her feet instantly.
She hurried across the room and threw her arms around him.
“Ah…”
Pain shot through his body.
Pansy immediately pulled back.
“Draco! What’s wrong? Did they do something to you? Where are you hurt? Let me see.”
She circled around him anxiously, checking for injuries.
Finding none only made her frown.
“I’m fine, Pansy.”
Draco forced a smile.
“You know they wouldn’t dare do anything serious to me.”
Slowly, he made his way to the sofa and sat down.
Pansy followed and dropped into the seat beside him.
“Draco.”
Blaise spoke up from across the room.
“You don’t have your wand.”
The reminder silenced everyone.
Of course.
Draco had thrown his wand to Harry during the battle.
Harry still had it.
“Draco…”
Pansy started to speak again.
Draco cut her off.
“I really am fine.”
He kept his voice calm.
“Don’t worry. I just slipped and fell on the way back. I’ve got a few bruises on my back. That’s all. Pansy just happened to press on one.”
There were no visible wounds.
His robes, however, were slightly torn.
After reassuring them a few more times, Draco finally convinced everyone to head back to bed.
He did the same.
*
With so few Slytherins left, they now shared rooms in pairs.
Draco and Blaise occupied the same dormitory.
“So.”
Blaise leaned against the bedframe.
“Want to tell me where you actually went this afternoon?”
“Blaise, I already told all of you. I was in the library.”
At least that part was true.
He simply neglected to mention that he’d lost track of time and ended up running into Irwin and the others.
Resting his chin in one hand, Blaise studied him thoughtfully.
Then he raised his wand.
A healing spell washed over Draco.
The ache throughout his body eased almost immediately.
Draco wasn’t sure whether Blaise had figured everything out.
But he suspected he had.
“Get some sleep,” Blaise said. “We’ve got class tomorrow.”
“Good night, Draco.”
Draco looked over.
“Good night, Blaise.”
*
Lying in bed, Draco replayed the day’s events.
To be honest, all his life he had been the one doing the bullying.
This was the first time someone had truly turned on him.
Harry didn’t count.
Harry was different.
Once something happened once, it could happen again.
And Draco didn’t even have a wand.
Yet he couldn’t imagine lowering his head and quietly enduring it.
That simply wasn’t who he was.
Their side had chosen the wrong cause.
Lucius had made mistakes.
There was no denying that.
But much of what people believed wasn’t entirely true either.
After Voldemort’s return, Lucius’s wand had been taken from him.
The wands later used for various missions had long since been destroyed.
There was little physical evidence left.
If Harry testified on Lucius’s behalf and confirmed that Lucius had been under the Imperius Curse during the Department of Mysteries incident, there was a real possibility he could be cleared of the most serious charges.
The rest could be solved with time.
And enough Galleons.
Still…
Would Harry really testify for Lucius?
He had promised he would.
But promises were easy.
Sirius Black.
Draco knew little about him.
Only fragments he’d heard from Narcissa.
His cousin.
Harry’s godfather.
And although Bellatrix had been the one who killed him, it had been Lucius who failed to catch the prophecy sphere.
A mistake that ultimately kept Voldemort from ever learning the full contents of the prophecy.
Would that matter?
Draco didn’t know.
He stared into the darkness.
Everything would be fine.
The war was over.
Things were getting better.
Repeating the thought to himself again and again, Draco slowly drifted off to sleep.