6A/N: Written for Lia's challenge, from the DG Forum hosted by :
Prompt/theme: betray - to lead astray, deceive
Challenge: You must add this bit of narration in the format of a letter/note in your drabble: I'm glad you finally found someone to make you happy. I just wish it could have been me.
Bonus: a twist.
Word count: 500 words, maximum.
Deadline: Monday, June 7th.
Word Count: 498 words
Anniversary
By Dranius
The second I saw the blood that was pouring from my eyes, ears, nose and mouth hit the floor, I knew this would be the end of me. This time, my tricks would not work. My looks, would charm no one. My wits would be worthless. My lies, would not save me.
I had been stripped. Beaten. Humiliated. My wand lay between my hands….broken. Useless. I was naked, prostrate in the middle of a circle of groveling servants to their Lord. My only luck remained the absence of the Lord himself.
"And what do we have here?" sneered a Deatheater, going through my clothes, pulling out a folded shred of parchment.
My heart sank, if there was any color left in my face, it must have drained completely. Any warmth left in me was sucked away in that instant, replaced by the outmost, heart retching, dread. I threw up instantly. Bile covered my hands, making them slip on the coble stone floor and I found myself laying in my own puke. I didn't care. The parchment was all that mattered.
This world is darkness. Voldemort rules over his wretched kingdom of despair. And I, the least likely of spies, was caught at the worst of moments.
She and I had a secret affair since my seventh year at Hogwarts, five years ago. She is the one I force myself to breath for every day, killing, enduring, betraying, waiting, plotting… for the impossible downfall of Evil.
But I felt they had doubts about me…. They were tracking me, watching me…I felt I should protect her while I could. How I could. The best, my miserable self...could. I told her not to look for me … I told her, to move on. One year ago, I left her.
How foolish of me, to ever consider contacting her again. How foolish.
The Deatheater cleared his throat loudly. "My Love," he read, allowing the circle to burst into rancorous laughs and catcalls.
Mimicking my voice in a high pitched, whiny tone, he was sure would amuse the circle of inbred hyenas he resumed: "One year already and there is so much I would like to tell you. So much I cannot. I read the news. Congratulations, my love, for your engagement. He doesn't deserve you, but you were always worth so much more than what this wretched world could offer. I'm glad you finally found someone to make you happy. I just wish it could have been me. I'll never forget you, Ginny Weasley, and I still hope than one day love will conquer all."
I hardly registered the wretched sob that tore through my lungs at her mention. The Deatheater smirked and crouched before me, dangling the letter before my eyes. Again, bile rose to my throat and tears burst from my swollen eyelids, burning their way down my torn face. I already knew what he was about to say.
"And now, Malfoy… Die, knowing who will be next."
"Avada Kedavra."