A strange, soft sound, almost a song, rang out from somewhere in the mansion. I looked down the stretch of ebony dining table, over the crystal bowl of green apples. I set down my fork and strained to listen, but the sound was elusive.
Mother and Father weren't due home until after Christmas and the elf wouldn't dare breathe a sound with consent. I stood, pushing my plate of food away, nearly untouched. As I left the dining room, the candles in the chandelier faded and sputtered out magically. I followed the noise through the main entryway and down through the halls toward the dungeon. It had to be Lovegood.
I moved quickly down steps, shifting quickly on the steps. I swung open the anterior door and stopped in front of the bars. Even in the darkness, her paleness shown almost iridescently.
Her hair, dirty as it was, hung down her back pale as moonlight tied in a ragged braid, wispy, frayed, and loose. She was kneeling beside Ollivander, who was sleeping fitfully in the corner, her lips still softly shaping the tuneless notes.
"Shut up," I spat at her, forcing my lit wand through the bars. The light made her eyelashes flutter and she stood, moving deftly through the cellar.
"Mr. Ollivander needs rest," she said in her melancholy, strange voice.
"You think your screaching is letting him sleep?" I hissed, lowering my vice despite myself.
"The lullaby is an ancient elf song. It's considered medicinal in many countries. Just because you don't understand it, doesn't give you license to hate it."
"Do you not get that you're trapped here? You don't have license to do anything." She laughed lightly. "What is wrong with you?"
"You can't hurt me anymore than you have already. Does that really make me the trapped one?"
My wand flickered upward beneath her chin, the contact of the wood and the bone of her jaw creating a sharp crack in the quiet.
I thought I saw her eyes wince closed in pain, but her lips smiled softly. I withdrew my wand and sneered. "Now, I'll have to have this cleaned of your filth." I turned away. "No more singing."
"Oh no", her voice floated back. "This is much too quiet a place to heal." Before I reached the top of the stairs, her tuneless song filled the quiet again. I flicked the silencing spell behind me.
Mother and Father had sent early for me from school only to have left me alone in the house. Not that their presence would have filled it. What soul my father had had was sucked away in the bowls of Azkaban and he'd been feeding off my Mother's ever since he had returned. I woke up three days before Christmas to a quiet that almost stung. The elf had set out hot coffee and some kind of hard scone with green apple slices on my dresser. I ate on the edge of the bed and then crossed to the window, looking out over the acres of green, dotted with the purple flare of peacocks, feathers spread proudly. I could tell it was still early, the sun just having crested Malfoy Wood.
I dressed and went down, sitting before the fire that burned at a slow flame. It barely made a noise as it crackled. A clatter sounded in the hall and I jumped up as though I had been waiting for it, drawing my wand. By the time I reached it, the elf had already magicked the dishes into her arms. Her bright eyes shown with fear as I stood with my wand aimed at her heart, almost visibly hammering in her chest.
"What was that bloody rukkus?"
"Forgive me, master Draco," she whispered, dropping to her nobly knees, her ears flopping onto the cement. The dishes remained magically floated above her.
"What are those dishes for? Stealing food out of our cupboards?"
"No sir. Minka was following orders, sir. Feeding the prisoners, sir. Just exactly as Mistress instructed Minka before Mistress left."
"And did she instruct you to clash her silver against the floor?" I snapped, already putting my wand away.
"No, sir. Minka will of course punish herself, sir."
"Why haven't I seen you feed them before? I've almost been here a week."
"Minko feeds them every three days, sir. Only every three days. Just as Mistress says. Exactly as Mistress instructed."
"Get up and out of my sight," I said moving past her. At the top of the stairs I paused to listen. Indistinct whispers floated upward. I moved downward slowly straining to listen.
"You're already improving," came Luna's voice. "You see? We'll be alright."
"Bless you child," the wand-maker's voice answered, weak and scratchy.
"See if you can sleep, okay? I'll keep watch for Nargles."
I moved down toward the last step just as she began to sing. She turned toward me as she heard my step on the stairs, lifting a finger to her lips. She moved toward me, carefully avoiding a bowl of oatmeal set carefully aside.
The man was already asleep, curled into himself on the stone. "You aren't hungry?" I asked, gesturing to the food, too incredulous to sound as disgusted as I meant to.
She searched my eyes with hers, round and luminous. "We ration what we have." She stood mightily, her thin frame solid and unwavering. I met her gaze.
"Do what you want. You can't be hurt anymore. Right?" I asked, my wand out before I could think. Wordlessly, I flipped the bowl of porridge with a flick and turned away.
"I can see that you got hurt," her voice echoed stronger than I'd heard her before. "And you don't want to be the same. But it's what you know."
"I like causing you pain. You're filth. It's what you deserve."
"No," she said, almost sing-song, kneeling and scraping the porage back into the bowel. "But I think you believe it will relieve your pain somehow. I hope you learn it will not, Draco Malfoy."
I almost knocked the elf to the ground as I reached the top of the stairs, shutting out her lingering echo as I slammed the door behind me. The elf stared up at me with great, round eyes. "Is Master Draco alright?"
"Four days. Feed them every four days- no more. Understand?"
"But sir… Mistress said."
"I will kill you if you do not obey me, elf. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, Sir. Just as Master Draco says, sir."