Cast No Shadow

Here's a thought for every man who tries to understand
What is in his hands
He walks along the open road of love and life
To find it if he can

He walks along the path towards the castle-prison with his hands shoved in his pockets, head down. He shivers as he approaches; the last time he was here, he was an inmate, but he'd been proven innocent three years before and hadn't thought then he'd ever come back. Especially not for something like this.

A somber-looking warden clothed entirely in black greets him at the door. He nods at the warden and walks past without uttering a word. He's now wondering why he didn't allow his wife to come with him . She would be a comfort to him at this time. A small hand touches his left forearm and he jerks it away before realizing that she's come even though he told her not too.

"I thought you might need someone here to...help," she said softly, smiling at her husband.

"I knew there was a reason I married you," he whispered back. She smiled at him and they followed the warden silently through the corridors.

Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say
Chained to all the places that he never wished to stay
Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say
As he faced the sun he cast no shadow

Sunlight gleamed in through the slits of the windows. The brightness seemed to not belong here, in this place, at this time. He bowed his head and blinked back tears. It wasn't as if he loved his father, far from it. His father had tried to kill him and his wife, who had at that time been his friend and ally. His father had never forgiven him for following Snape's lead and becoming a spy for the Order. And his father would never have a chance to atone, either, at this one final meeting.

He clenched his wife's hand in his as they entered the sentencing room. His father's hate-filled eyes burned at them from across the room and he spat in their direction. He refuses to slouch in front of his father though, refuses to look weak in the eyes of a man whom he once revered beyond reason.

The somber warden turned and intoned in a solemn manner, "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy may have a few minutes with the inmate before the execution begins." The warden walked out of the chamber and there was a grinding locking noise that closely followed the snap of the door shutting. He walked towards his father.

"Father-" he began.

"Save it. Save it for your Mudblood slime of a wife," snapped his father, turning away, staring at the wall.

"Father," he continued on in a determined tone. "I'm sorry it came to this. I had no hand in your sentencing, you have to know. I never wished for you to die. Never." His father scoffed.

"This isn't death, boy," the older man said quietly, "this is worse."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "But- The Dementors- I thought they were all banished with Voldemort's demise." His father laughed bitterly.

"There will always be one or two of them,," Lucius replied. "The government--if you can call it that--won't ever really get rid of them. And for the worst of their 'criminals,' what better than to bestow the ultimate punishment upon them, eh? Destroy a convict and his soul in the process. Best say your good-byes now, boy."

Draco closed his eyes, still determined not to cry. "I don't love you," he told his father. "In fact I hate you. But I can't let you...die without knowing a few things.

"We've had a son, Hermione and I. He's named Raphael Lucius. I thought, even though it probably wouldn't mean anything to you, it would be nice to- to honor your name. Ralph's one now, and Hermione's just found out she's pregnant again. We've fixed up the manor in Wiltshire--cleared it out of all the things we don't need or want and fixed everything up, like you used to dream about. Mother's living very comfortably under permanent house arrest in London. She says she likes watching people go about their business and, after all, she can still entertain. She wanted me to tell you she loves you, and always will."

"I wanted to apologize for not interfering with your case and overturning the death sentence. I can't apologize for anything else I've done, for I'm not sorry for having helped Potter defeat the Dark Lord and I'm happy with Hermione and Ralph, as well as the new baby on the way. But I'm so sorry you have to die for what you did. I asked Potter and Weasley to whatever they could, but I guess the Ministry wanted someone to fry for their actions, and as Avery and Nott escaped last year, you became their scapegoat." He shrugged.

A knock sounded on the door. "Before we leave, Father, do you have anything you'd like me to do after you're...gone?"

His father closed his eyes. "Yes. Take care of your mother."

"Done," he said, nodding.

"I wasn't finished," his father said grumpily. "And, if the baby is a girl, name her Lisana for me, if you would."

A quiet voice sounded from behind him. "Of course, Lucius," Hermione said, her voice thick with tears. "Of course."

Fleeting memories of his childhood flashed across his mind's eye. He saw his father teaching him to ride a broom, how to tie his shoes, to read. The years of hero-worship went over and over inside his mind. It overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Hermione's hand. After years, years of blind adoration, years of hate, years of loathing and of strong emotions unnamable, he found there was still a glimmer of love for his father. It was tiny and would disintegrate in time, but it was there, shining through the murk of hate and fear and loathing.

The door ground open again and they jumped out of the way as the warden came in, followed by a cloaked figure that was floating. The warden cleared his throat before saying, "Lucius Augustus Malfoy, you are charged with war crimes, aiding the Dark Lord in his plots and the torture and murder of Muggles and are hereby sentenced to death by the Dementor's Kiss. Do you have any last words?"

Lucius looked up at his son and said clearly, "I'm sorry, son," before lying back and closing his eyes. The dementor swooped in and hovered over him, lowering its hood and opening its mouth. A glowing white substance came out of Lucius' mouth and the dementor sucked it up until no more came out of Lucius's body. Then the dementor left the room, leaving everyone shivering as Lucius's body lay there, on the bench, shuddering and twitching.

As they took his soul they stole his pride

As he faced the sun he cast no shadow
As he faced the sun he cast no shadow
As he faced the sun he cast no shadow

Before they left the room, a burst of sunlight entered the room and fell upon the shell of Lucius. On the wall there was only the shadow of the bench and nothing more. Draco turned away and one tear escaped his eye. As he wiped it away, they stepped out of the room and followed to the exit.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy," the warden told them as they walked out of the door, "Mrs. Malfoy."

As they approached the boat that would take them back to the mainland, he told Hermione, "I didn't love him. I didn't."

She patted his arm gently and leaned against his chest. "I know dear. I know."