Ok, here is the ending of my Draco Malfoy story. I know it has been a weird story, but I wanted to work on my ability to discribe something and make someone feel what they person is feeling. I hope that I have done that well. Please tell me if you enjoyed the story or not, I love to hear from my readers. I tried to keep all character personalities the same as the book and I think I did ok on that.

Special thanks to bigred20 and Zoekske. This chapter is for you two.

WARNING: Blood, torture, character death, angst, mild language, and betrayal.

"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."

Luke 15: 4-7

It had been two weeks since his first punishment, but Draco was still defiant. His shoulders had been disconnected and relocated at least once a day and it seemed Lord Voldemort's new favorite past time was punishing the pale faced boy. Draco wanted desperately to escape, but the punishment sessions he had gone through each day had drained him and he knew he wouldn't get past all the Death Eaters even if he found his way from the labyrinth of hallways. He was given water everyday and food every other by his aunt Bellatrix. She seemed the only one who cared for him now, and even she looked at him like a piece of filth.

He could hear footsteps in the hall outside his heavy wooden cell door and gasps as young men and women walked by the dementors guarding his cell. No one had been told that Draco was in there, but all the teens knew better than to ask what the room held that was so important.

Draco knew what day this was, his father had been talking about it ever since he could remember, June 19, the day his class could be inducted to being Death Eaters. He would have been with them if not for his father's stupid plan to get Potter's prophesy, but now, he was glad he wasn't. Never again would he dream of being a Death Eater. Right now, his dream was to get out of this damn rat hole alive.

The group had finally passed by and Draco was left alone once again, leaning against the cool cell wall, to be with his thoughts. He was always able to see his breath now; the dementors had stood by that door for so long Draco was surprised that it hadn't frozen shut. He smiled at the thought of being locked in this cell, hearing the Dark Lord curse as his favorite toy was lost forever. Nothing pleased him as much as hearing his old master and father become frustrated or angry and there was nothing to do about it, especially after Harry found another horcrux and destroyed it. Now Voldemort is down to four, only three more to find.

He often found himself wondering what his classmates were doing, especially Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy. He figured those three were at initiation, along with Blaise, the other Slytherins and others looking to join the cause, looking forward and yet dreading the induction ceremony. The ceremony is never the same as the year before. Sometimes you had to kill something or someone, sometimes you just needed to cast one of the Unforgivable Curses, sometimes you just needed to bow in front of Voldemort. It really just depended on the man's mood and lately, because of Draco, he had been in a great mood. After all, he was able to release his frustration whenever he felt like it.

Draco felt the temperature slightly increase in the room, indicating that the dementors had left their post. "Alahamora!" said someone on the other side of the door, causing the lock to click. There were strained grunts as two men struggled until they had finally opened the heavy, frozen door, pushing ice into a pile as it scraped the floor. Warm air passed over Draco's skin and a sigh escaped his lips. "We're moving you to another cell," said one of the men. "This door is getting too hard to open."

The two men cautiously approached Draco. He was drained and beaten, but the young man still attempted to fight guards before they were able to subdue him. Now they normally sent in three guards instead of two, but this time was different. The guards apparently didn't feel like playing today. "Stupify!" A red light hit Draco, but he did not move due to the fact that he was already leaning against the wall, but his head was thrown into the wall fairly hard. While he was stunned, the two men ran to him, threw him face down on the stone floor and placed a velvet bag over his head. A draw string was pulled so he was unable to see through the bottom or shake it off.

Soon, they were traveling down corridor after corridor, Draco feeling like he had traveled this path before. He heard the men push open a large door, and a voice caused him to cringe. He couldn't believe how stupid he was for believing that they were bringing him to a new cell, they had brought him to the induction ceremony where Voldemort was speaking to the potential and current Death Eaters.

"You have shown your loyalty by coming here today and wishing to become a soldier in the greatest and most powerful army the world has ever seen!" There was a great uproar of voices and the hall echoed them back. "But now is your test, my followers. As others have done before you, you too must show me your capabilities of following my orders." Draco felt the two me lift him up and place him in a kneeling position in front of the Dark Lord, facing away from him. He couldn't believe he was the object to be used in the ceremony. "You will be given tasks and you will need to fulfill them, be them against friend or foe. Your test is to place this person in front of you in the Cruciatus Curse until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," he heard the crowd respond.

"Now, form a line and I will show you your target. You must be able to attack a person while seeing the pain on their face."

Draco could feel the drawstrings being pulled away from his neck and the velvet hood being removed from his head. Everyone gasped as his face was shown, looking from a beaten Draco to a smiling Lucius. Each person wore a ceremonial metal mask except the twenty new recruits that stood before him. Ten of them were from his class; the others were adults just looking for a piece of power. Draco's eyes met those of his friends and a piece of his heart broke away.

His friends looked at him with fear. Their best friend, the Slytherin Prince, was the subject for their induction. No one had spoken of Draco after his disappearance, but they had all assumed that their master had hidden the boy from the Ministry. Apparently this was not so.

Pansy couldn't take her eyes off of the man she had loved. He was still the man she knew, but the way he held himself was different. No longer was it a cocky, proud stance, but that of a brave soul, defying all that lay around him. He was no longer a boy following a plan, but a man that was doing something for himself, and though she admired him for it, she also hated that he put himself through this.

His appearance frightened her. His dress pants were torn and dirty; far those of the prim and proper ones he always insisted on wearing. His once crisp white shirt was now covered in dirt and blood. It was unbuttoned exposing not only his muscular body, but an x-shaped scar that cut across his chest and stomach. His face had a long, deep bruise and he was covered in both dry and new blood. He was much thinner than he had been the last time she saw him, evidently they had been starving him, and his face was much paler, but it was hard to see through all the filth. His collar bone was jagged on the right side, and his lips were split in several areas. His eyes burned with both hatred and determination; he held no pity for himself. There were cuts, scars, and bruises in too vast of quantities to count, but they had evidently spared his face of scars, for one could tell that was healed regularly.

Voldemort saw the sadness in the young woman's face when Draco was revealed, "Ms. Parkinson, why don't you go first."

Her heart sunk in her chest as she approached the man in front of her. She raised her wand and pointed it at Draco. She swallowed hard. "Pansy, you don't have to do this," said Draco, causing the girl to hesitate. "You can still turn back, trust me, you don't want to do this. You're meant to do so much, don't ruin your life and take this side. I did, and look where I am. Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, none of you need to do this!"

That's when Draco saw his chance. While she thought, Draco lunged forward and grabbed her wand. Turning to Voldemort, Draco lifted the wand. Let's see how you like it! he thought. "Crucio!"

Draco felt the same pain run through his body as he dropped to the floor in agony. After a minute, Voldemort gave Lucius the signal to stop and Draco could breathe again. He still would not scream for this man. Lucius walked up to his gasping son and cast another spell on him. "Petrificus Armos! (made it up, but armos is Latin for arms)." Draco felt his arms being drawn behind his and bound with an invisible rope. His only chance to escape had failed. I am a failure, he thought.

"Ms. Parkinson, I am giving you one last chance," said Voldemort. Pansy knelt down and picked up her wand where Draco had dropped it. She lifted her wand and pointed it at Draco who was still gasping for air on the hall floor, arms bound behind him.

This was it. This was when Pansy had to make her decision. Draco looked at the woman he had fallen for; tears in her eyes as she stared at him down the length of her wand. He never thought he would actually love her, but somewhere during the school year he began to like the idea of settling down with Pansy and starting a family. He used to imagine them going on raids together and teaching their children magic, but no more. This was her choice. It was either him or the Death Eaters, and in a flash of pain, Draco's life fell apart around him.

He lay limp on his side in his new cell hours later, still coughing from the ache in his chest. Every single one of the twenty men and women put him through the curse, and after Pansy had completed it, his three remaining friends didn't even hesitate. Blaise even seemed to enjoy himself. Draco had thought that he had escaped the torture after Goyle knocked him unconscious, but with the word 'Ennervate' from his father, Draco was brought back to the painful world for another go. Draco had lasted through the first five minutes without sound, but once the second recruit had cursed for three minutes, his resolve no longer held. His old friends were forced to curse him for five minutes; all others only had to do it for one. Of all of his body, there was one place that hurt the most; one place he didn't believe could every hurt him, a Malfoy: his heart.

In one evening, all that remained in his life, his friends, had abandoned him, and for the first time in fourteen years, Draco cried. Not to get out of something or get someone in trouble, but truly cried. He cried for the betrayal of his father, the loss of his mother and friends, but most of all, he cried for himself, because he knew no one else would. When Voldemort believed he no longer served a purpose, he was going to die, and no one was going to care. He had never felt so alone in his entire life.

The Dark Lord decided to skip that night's session and Draco was allowed to sleep with as little pain as possible. He lay on the floor where his chauffeurs had left him, the room filled with silence except for the raspy sound of his breathing. He watched as the fog rose from his mouth again, the dementors had been stationed in front of his new cell. He decided he couldn't complain so much though; at least this cell had a window, even if it was too high for him to reach it.

He thought about what he was going to do if he ever got out of this prison. He couldn't go to anyone he knew, they would just send him back to this place and an early grave. He couldn't go to the Ministry or Hogwarts, he would get sent to Azkaban. The only thing he could do would be to live in the muggle world and be on the run. "Oh well, anything's better than here," he said to himself.

He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep for the third time that night when he heard a loud crash come from out side. He wanted so desperately to reach up to the window and look to see what it was, but he was no even able to move his hand to try and push himself up. He suddenly heard curses, hexes, and jinxes being cast and crashing against walls or people. They must still be testing the new recruits, making sure they can handle pressure.

"Alahamora!"

The door opened and Draco had to close his eyes from the light that flooded the room. He felt a soft hand with long nails touch his cheek. "Aunt Bellatrix?"

"Voldemort said not to let them have you," she whispered in his ear before standing erect again, "So I am supposed to finish you off, nice…and…slow." Fear engulfed Draco as his tired brain grasped the meaning of her words. "Crucio!" Her voice was husky and the words spilled from her mouth like venom.

She flicked her wand sending Draco into a pained thrash. She flicked it again, increasing the pain that racked Draco's body. A minute later she gave her want an intense wave and Draco felt the wounds on his chest and arms break open, blood spilling on the floor. His throat had begun to close off and his shoulders disconnected due to his muscle's spasms, and the world around him started to change to hues of reds and blacks. He screamed in pain, he knew this was the end.

The pain stopped and the evil laughs of Bellatrix ceased. White light filled his eyes as he stared upon some sort of holy creature. "No," said Draco weakly, "go away. Leave me alone. I don't deserve to with you." The light faded and a silhouette of a boy no older than he stood over him before he fell into a dark abyss.

"Draco," said a voice softly. "Draco, wake up."

No, I'm not ready to wake up.

"Hey, Draco." Draco forced his eyes open to a green eyed boy with glasses and brown hair. The boy smiled when Draco's grey eyes met his and Draco noticed happiness fill them. "Good, you're awake."

"Where am I?" asked Draco weakly, his voice was amazingly horse.

"Shh, you need your strength," said the boy starting to leave. "You've been out for four days." He exited the room with a smile.

"Four days," he said softly, and then he realized something. "I'm out. I'm out," he said, more tears coming to his eyes, but he pushed them back as he heard footsteps coming to the door.

Harry returned with Hermione and they each took a side of Draco's bed. "How are you feeling Draco?" she asked.

"Why do you care," he said coldly. His entire body hurt and his head felt like it was going to explode, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

"Don't worry, Draco," said Harry, "Mrs. Weasley is on her way over. She's a wiz at healing charms."

"Fabulous, I've been degraded to being healed by a Weasley."

His comment was met by angry eyes, but there was still a large amount of kindness there. "What they bloody hell is he doing here?" came a voice, Ron leaning against the doorframe.

"There's no where else for him to go, Ronald," said Hermione.

"I say send the bloody git back to his good for nothing master," said Ron.

"And I say they send you back under the rock you crawled from, but that isn't happening either," said Draco, only to receive another shush from Harry.

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "All that matters is an innocent person didn't die."

"Hmph," snorted Ron, "innocent my ass."

"Did anyone get hurt trying to save me?" asked Draco to everyone's surprise. "Any Death Eaters?"

"No one died thankfully," said Hermione, "but there were some injuries. Lupin broke his arm and Tonks hurt her leg, but it's nothing a simple spell can't fix." She smiled at the pale teen who only stared at her in return.

"What about my father?"

"Ran away like the coward he is," said Ron. He was astounded that this didn't provoke anger from Malfoy. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Ron broke it. "Who did that to you mate?" pointing to Draco's bandages. Blood had soaked through them in an x-shaped pattern. "You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah," he said and then added with a mixture of hurt and hatred, "and my father."

This was met by another long pause and they were all thankful when someone came into the room.

"Ronald, Harry, Hermione, it's time for dinner. Let the poor child rest" said Mrs. Weasley as she entered. She smiled at Draco, a genuine smile. "I'll be right back, dear. I just need to get some supplies." She left the room as did Ron and Harry, Hermione was close behind.

"Whose idea was it to come and save me?" asked Draco. Hermione stopped and noticed the boy had pushed himself into a sitting position and was staring at his scarred stomach. "It's not like I'm worth it."

She smiled to herself. She had thought the same thing when it was suggested, but now that she saw the pain Draco had to go through, she believed it was a very noble one. "Believe it or not, it was Harry. The Order fought him on it, but he explained the whole story about your family and being forced into it. He even bullied them with the fact that you didn't actually kill Dumbledore. He was the one who actually scared away the dementors with his Patronus Charm and carried you out of the cell. I'm ashamed to say that I was one who fought with him about it."

"I don't blame you," said Draco, shocking the ginger haired girl. "If I were you, I wouldn't have wanted to save me either. I still don't understand why any of you bothered? Why would anyone want to save a demon from hell?"

"Because it is demons that need saving the most," she said placing a hand on his shoulder. It felt odd consoling the Slytherin Prince. "Besides, you're more like a lost angel. You haven't been condemned yet, there's still time to make up for your mistakes, just as everyone else does." Draco looked at Hermione. Her eyes shown with true care for the boy, this whole rescue had placed the pale boy in a new light to her, but it would still take time for them to be friends.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron from the kitchen.

"Coming!" she yelled back. She smiled at Draco again and started to go through the door.

But she was stopped again. "Thank you for saving me," he said. He smiled and in a kind tone added, "I still thing you're a filthy Mudblood."

She looked back and in the same manner said, "And you're still a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach. Now get some rest." She closed the door behind her when she left.

Draco laid his head back down on his pillow. His mother was dead, his father had disowned him, and his friends had abandoned him, but here, in this place filled with the laughter from the kitchen, he didn't feel so alone anymore. He knew it would take a long time to gain these people's trust and for him to accept any sort of friendship from them, but he was willing to try. They were willing to risk the sacrifice lives for him, he could sacrifice his old life for them. He was no longer a demon, but a fallen angel working his way back to heaven.

Well, how did I do. I didn't want Draco and Hermione to get along, but I also wanted there to be an understanding between the two. I hope this story was to your liking, I love Draco so I wanted him to be a hero in the end. I know this kind of throws off the real story, but I did want something like this to happen.

-StarShinobi

P.S. Does anyone want me to continue something like this?