wook77 | New Fic - Childhood's Over (PG-13)

I've written a quick one-shot for the AWDT Challenge over at

jamie2109's journal. AWDT is sponsored by

nocturnali. This week's prompt was "we're all going to die". So, I present you my quick ficlet. I'm not sure about it as it's not quite what I wanted. It's also 1st Person, as a bit of warning.

So, without further ado... here are the details and the fic.

Title: Childhood's Over
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: H/D
Word Count: 396
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death (no one actually dies in it, honest. Also, this has a happy-ish ending)
Summary: Childhood's over the the moment you know you're going to die. (From the Crow). Draco reflects on his childhood.
A/N: Inspiration for this fic comes from the above quotation. If I have time, I may write one of these from Harry's POV (hopefully it'll be even better).

I was forced to watch a Muggle movie with Harry. The movie was quite good, although I shall never admit it to him. I don’t remember much, I spent most of the movie attempting to seduce Potter, but I do remember one line.

Childhood's over the moment you know that you're going to die.

That line has haunted me for weeks. I’ve gone over it in my head thousands and millions of times. What does it mean? What does it mean for Harry? What does it mean for me?

For Harry, his childhood was over when he faced Voldemort for the first time and watched his mother die protecting him. For me, my childhood ended when I met Voldemort for the first time. He had to be the ugliest fucker I’ve ever seen. My skin crawled as I was forced to kneel and accept the task of murdering Albus Dumbledore.

I knew, then, that I was going to die. We’re all going to die. As I bowed and accepted the task, my mother stood in a circle of Death Eaters, wands pointed at her head and chest. As I bowed, Voldemort touched the back of my neck and a shiver of fear and revulsion raced through my body.

I may have accepted my own mortality and that of everyone, but I couldn’t become a murderer. Albus Dumbledore was smarter than I, much more observant than I. It shocked me to realize that this man, the man I’d had very little interaction with, knew me better than I knew myself. I was ashamed that my wand shook and dropped at the time. Now, however, I’m proud. I’m proud of the fact that I couldn’t kill a brave man in cold blood.

I may have been a Death Eater, I may have set in motion the first invasion of Hogwarts of the Second War, I may have betrayed my family and my blood but I’m not a murderer. That comforts me in the quiet hours of the dawn when Harry isn’t around to hold me as I shake from the nightmares. That reassures me when I feel unworthy of the love of the Saviour. That consoles me as I sob in isolation for the friends that have died. That relieves me as I confront my own mortality.

We’re all going to die but, thankfully, not at my hand.