Chapter Text
August, 1998, Wizengamot Courtroom
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, due to your turning spy and working alongside the Order of the Phoenix during the Battle of Hogwarts, you are being pardoned for your crime of being a marked Death Eater. There is, however, one stipulation. As you are aware, it has come to light that your aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, successfully created Horcruxes before her death at the Battle of Hogwarts. We are in need of your knowledge and skills in the search for, and destruction of, said Horcruxes, and require you to, once again, work with the Order until they are all destroyed. Your refusal to acquiesce will result in a revocation of your pardon. Will you comply with this ruling?”
With a storm brewing in his gray eyes, Draco responds, a sharp edge to his voice, “I will.” The piercing sound of the gavel rings out through the room.
October, 1998, Lestrange Manor
It’s been two, long and grueling months of searching the Lestrange Manor and speaking with anyone who could potentially provide any insight and clues into Bellatrix’s plan. But Draco has finally discovered the extent of his aunt’s insanity. Voldemort wanted control over Wizarding Britain; that apparently wasn’t good enough for Bella. With a minuscule shake of his head, he thinks to himself, She’s planning bloody world domination. He allows himself a brief moment to digest everything, head in his hands as he rests his elbows on the mahogany desk in his uncle’s office.
With a deep sigh, Draco stands from the desk and leaves the manor, making his way to inform the Order of all he has discovered.
October, 1998, Ministry of Magic
“Mr. Malfoy, this goblin made dagger has been infused with basilisk venom, one of the few known substances capable of destroying Horcruxes. Take this with you. Good luck on your search.”
September, 1999, Victoria Falls, Zambia, Africa
The rushing sounds of the falls are deafening as Draco stands in the small, hidden alcove behind them. Water dripping from his silver hair onto his face, he looks down at the medallion in his hand. A solitary raven sitting atop an intricately designed “L,” the Sacred 28 Medallion belonging to the Lestrange family.
He grips it tightly in his hand, feeling the surge of dark magic that creeps up his arm, tempting him. He places it on a sizable boulder within the alcove and takes out the dagger. The effect is instantaneous; the medallion begins vibrating, a high pitched ringing coming from it. The ringing increases as Draco raises the dagger above it, before driving it into the center of the medallion.
Draco is forcefully thrown back, slamming into the other side of the alcove, barely missing the falls. After a moment, he stands and makes his way to the medallion. He looks down at it.
Destroyed.
August, 2000, Great Wall, China, Asia
Standing atop the highest point of the Great Wall of China, Draco holds a ring in hand. A silver snake wrapped around a glowing star made of citrine. He remembers seeing his mother wearing a similar ring, only with an aquamarine star. Andromeda’s ring, he thinks. Guess Aunt Bella didn’t hate her as much as she always claimed.
He makes his way down the wall, then down the hill, away from any possibly prying eyes. Walking into a small, tree-covered area of land, Draco pulls out the basilisk infused dagger. Once again, he feels the Horcrux’s vibrations, and hears the shrill ringing in his ears. He places it on the ground, brings the dagger up, and plunges the blade into the center of the star. Once again, he is violently thrown back.
For a moment he stays down, lying on his back, taking deep breaths. There is still a ringing in his ears, albeit much quieter now. Once he catches his breath, he gets up and stalks toward the ring.
Destroyed.
July, 2001, Blood Falls, Antarctica
Draco looks down at the flow of crimson that pours out the tip of the glacier. Blood falls, he scoffs, that crazy bitch would choose a place like this. The biting sting of the glacial wind caresses his face as he turns away from the small falls, Bella’s constellation encrusted dagger tightly gripped in his hand.
When he makes his way back to his tent and finally releases the Horcrux, his palm is imprinted with the Orion constellation. The dagger was a wedding present from Rodolphus, Bellatrix being the third-brightest star in that constellation. This is the first Horcrux that is something that belonged only to Bellatrix, and Draco can’t help but feel the hatred grow in his heart. His desire to destroy this one is even greater than the previous two. He wastes no time placing it down and thrusting into it with his own dagger, his blade piercing the star of Bellatrix.
For a third time, he is thrown back by the force of the dark magic being destroyed. This time he stays down, letting the cold from the snow infiltrate him. He turns his head, looking towards the Horcrux, and he can tell.
Destroyed.
***
Draco watches the sun rising over the Antarctic waters as he paces in front of his tent. He’s unable to keep his thoughts from spiraling.
Almost three years into this, and only three Horcruxes have been found and destroyed. This shouldn’t be taking me this long. What am I missing?
His pacing increases. He pulls at his pale blond locks, now long enough that they fall into his eyes. The anxiety and restlessness getting the best of him, he angrily kicks a nearby pile of snow as he yells out a curse, “Fuck!”
Almost immediately after, he hears a soft hooting. He sharply glances up and sees a snowy white owl flying towards him, a letter attached to its leg. He lifts his arm, allowing the creature to land. As soon as he unties the letter, the bird takes off again. With shaking hands, he unfurls it and reads. His heart stops.
As soon as Draco finishes reading, the parchment ignites, singeing the tips of his fingers in the process.