Judas Iscariot

He sat naked at the foot of the bed, unmoving, staring down at his pale hands. Detachedly he wished they would be covered in blood. An outward sign of his guilt. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. Twenty minutes, forty, an hour? He didn't care. It was cold. Yet he couldn't make a move to put something on, or to write the note telling the deed was done.

The blonde man gulped and threw a glance at his dead lover lying on the bed. He looked cold too, green eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling. At first he had felt crushed by overwhelming guilt and grief. He'd buried his head in his hands, wand falling in what seemed like slow motion to the floor. But he hadn't cried. He never cried. Could he even cry?

He wasn't crushed anymore. The guilt, the grief, were still there. But in the background. He felt detached, far away from his own body. Like he was already dead. Like he was the one dead. Not Harry. His Harry. Harry with the laughing eyes, Harry who suffered not only for himself but for everyone ever harmed by the Dark Lord. Harry who said 'I love you', Harry who trusted him. Stupid, sweet foolish Harry.

He should have been gone long ago. Soon they would start to wonder where Harry was. Start looking. Find him, lying cold and naked. No more laughter, no more pain in the green eyes. Only surprise and dead nothingness. Still he somehow couldn't make himself move. He, who always put himself and his own safety first. Like he had put his own safety first when he had... When he killed...

He wished he could cry.

Distant, like it all happened underwater, he heard running footsteps in the corridor outside. Battering on the door, splitting of wood as the doorway gave way. Cries, wailings, as the black-robed aurors saw Harry. He didn't even bother to look up. He knew what would happen next. Like it happened to someone else, like he was watching it on the silly telly Harry loved so much, he rather saw than felt the spell hit him and his world went blissfully dark as he fell to the floor.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss for the murder of Harry James Potter." The hall was filled with sobbing and angry shouts. It didn't touch him. The world had a dark and chaotic time ahead of it. Many in this very courtroom would soon be dead, probably because of what he did. His father had told him that the Dark Lord would break him out as a reward for murdering the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He didn't care. He just wanted it all to be over.

They were taking him from the courtroom back to Azkaban where he would wait for the execution of the sentence. Another long wait of days spilling into nights. They didn't make it very far. Shouts and commotion made themselves heard. The curse hit him straight in the chest and somehow he instinctively knew that he wouldn't wake up this time. It made him smile. He would be with Harry now, forever and ever and everything was finally right.