Draco laid in his own blood, shirt torn, the word "Traitor" carved into his sternum neatly. His father is now restrained by aurors, his mother's shrill, fake weeping filling the dining hall of the Malfoy Manor. A black flurry of robes and Draco is gently lifted by strong arms. A familiar scent of potions, sandalwood and sweat fill his nostrils between the droplets of tears, and he is carried to the fireplace. The deep voice of Severus is like a roar, instructing the flames to take them away.
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