Chapter Text
Cold. He thought as he carefully skipped down the hallway.
He never knows why he runs so fast, far away from Auror. He. The only son of Malfoy would never be afraid. However, in this destiny, the last Malfoy was already fearful of someone. Who he hated the most were. The dark one. He hates it always. He hates how he sees it with his own eyes. His mother, Narissa, lay there unmoving. Full of her only blood, which remains stained as dark as the red dress she was wearing.
A flashback came as he remembered her last word.
'run my boy, run as far from here…I...love yo-u' as if her breath was too much and there, she lay as stone beside her father, Lucius Malfoy, who had been dead by one of the unforgivable curses called Avada Kedavra, than non-stop torture like his mother. Who suffer the torture. over. and over. and over.
His Mother, Narissa, was given a healing potion and was tortured with different kinds of curses that fell upon her. Non-stop. He hears it. His mother screamed for it to stop. 'Pl-please! stoppppp!-'. But it did stop, only when she in verse to dead. how cruel it was to see it, with his own eyes.
Those words were easily making him shiver all over. To make him remember why he is still in the run. He must. But how-
'HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!!' shouted one of the death eaters. He froze as he stopped where he had hidden, not far from the death eater stand.
No. It can't be.
The plan he desired was long gone as Harry was his only plan to be saved. The only thing idea he can think of is to find Harry. However, knowing that the boy who lived is now long dead. How can he proceed with this? Where would he go? His thoughts were full of anxiety. Finding new ideas was not a good time. As his life now is in more danger than ever.
'Young boy…' whispers a very soft voice, startling him from having conservation with himself as he wonders who whispered through his right ear.
With nothing to lose, he was on high alert. Thinking it was Auror or worse, death eaters. He was among them. Despite that, it mostly followed his foolishness and wanted to be known to his father, Lucious Malfoy.
With a wand ready in his hand, He-
'Young boy... Come' now the whispering sound clear to his hearing.
There is a light that shines so bright which blinds his eyes, making it difficult to see anything as if it were calling.
'..come.. Malfoy..', he was frozen to hear the voice know who he was, as he still wondered who or what had called him.
'come here…young Malfoy…' the voice repeats, as the bright seem calmly shows his way to one of the empty houses.
Very similar but where. He wondered as he looked at the house that seemed unoccupied with people.
'..come..' the voice repeated slightly to his ears.