Draco stood in front of his floor-length mirror. He tightened his skinny black tie with one hand and smoothed down loose hairs on the left side of his head with the other. He was fixing the cuffs of his sleeves when there was a tiny pop resonating from inside of his bedroom.

"What?" Draco asked rudely as he let his hands fall to his sides and he continued to inspect himself.

"Master Malfoy sent me, Young Master Malfoy." The nervous house elf said. "Master Malfoy said to tell Young Master Malfoy that your guest will be here soon."

Draco clenched his jaw tightly at the mention of the words "your guest." They were hardly his guests. They were his father's friends, colleagues, band of troublemakers; whatever one wanted to call them. Draco was only along for this ride because he lived in his father's house. In fact Draco was in the middle of remedying that little situation, but, unfortunately, it was apparent that he wasn't working fast enough.

"Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

"Yes, Young Master Malfoy."

The familiar pop sounded again and Draco continued to stand in front of his mirror. He stared in disgust of himself. He was twenty-one years old and was still following his father's shadow. There was something about the man that pulled Draco in and made him feel like the child he had been for seventeen years. Maybe it was the fact that dear ole dad was indeed his father. Growing up, Draco had wanted nothing more than to make his father proud. To be his father and to have all of the fear and respect that he had. As he grew out of childhood, however, Draco had come to realize that all of that fear and respect came from an alley that he had rather not walk though. Draco did not have his father's heart; if one could call it that. His morals were not his father's, though many of those ideals were lightly etched into his psyche. Emphasis on the lightly.

Draco sighed and finally turned away from his image. He closed the door after him and walked down the hall. It led the way out of the wing of Malfoy Manor that belonged to him. It was a rare sight to see his father, or anyone else for that matter, in the East Wing. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that Draco had resided in the dark reminder of his childhood for so long. He was in it by himself so much of the time that it was easy to forget it was attached to a living hell.

Straight down the hall and an abrupt left brought Draco to the main lobby of Malfoy Manor. It was where their grand fireplace was held and where many of their "guests" entered from. But today they would be entering through Lucius' private Floo Network that he had paid a hefty bribe to install and to keep secret. And so Draco made it pass the lobby and headed towards the south wing where his mother and father spent their time. His mother wouldn't be there, however. The moment she had heard of the news that they had a "guest" coming, she decided that it would be a lovely time to visit extended family in the south of France for the duration of his visit. Draco admired her spirit.

When Draco reached his father's suite, he could hear voices emanating from one of the studies. With a deep breath, Draco turned the knob and entered the room without knocking. An instant look of disapproval was gained from Lucius, but his "guest" didn't see nor did he seem to mind the intrusion.

"Draco!" Rodolphus Lestrange greeted with a large smile. "It's wonderful to see you. How is my young nephew?"

Draco suppressed a grimace and instead smiled as he set one his hands on the rim of his pants pocket and closed the door behind him. "I've been well, Uncle Rodolphus. And yourself?"

"Eh, how well can you be when the Ministry is dying to see you behind bars…" Rodolphus shrugged and then laughed. "They can try, but they won't succeed, will they?"

"Of course not," Lucius said haughtily. "You'll die of natural causes before they even get a whiff of where you are."

Is the Killing Curse a natural cause? Draco thought in his mind, but then quickly replaced it with something less murderous when Rodolphus asked him a question.

"We're doing well." Draco replied as he automatically loosened his tie from its tight grip on his throat.

"More than well," Lucius took it upon himself to add. "He's thinking about marrying her. Aren't you, Draco?"

"Hm," Draco responded as he, as politely as he could, passed the elder gentlemen in order to make it to the bar. Rodolphus congratulated Lucius, not Draco, on the pending engagement while Draco simply poured himself a generous amount of firewhiskey in a short glass. It was gone in one large gulp.

"So, Uncle," Draco said in faux-interest as he fixed himself another drink as well as two others. "Is this sudden, though welcomed, visit for business or pleasure?"

Rodolphus paused, thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Truthfully, it was a matter of convenience."

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion as he sipped, instead of gulped this time, on his drink. He expertly balanced the other two drinks in his free hand and allowed both men to take a glass.

"As a fugitive it's never good to stay in one place." Rodolphus explained. "I was staying in a modest home; the owner of which having…disappeared." He added with a mischievous smile. "But would you believe that the house was raided? Thank Merlin it happened while I was inconspicuously out and about. Sadly, the unexpected visitors came at a time where my future abode wasn't ready yet."

"And so, Rodolphus will be staying with us until it is." Lucius commented. Draco could say nothing but emit a soft "Oh," and now chug the rest of his drink.

"It should be no more than a week." Rodolphus continued. "I would love to stay longer, but I have a rule of not spending time in a place where most of your enemies are."

"A wise rule," Draco mentioned, eager and happy to know that it wouldn't be a terribly long visit (although a week was certainly long enough). "You'll be safe here."

"Oh, I have no doubts about that." Rodolphus grinned. "I also expect to have a bit of fun while I'm in such a…remote location."

"…Fun?" Draco repeated. Rodolphus continued to show teeth while Lucius picked up the conversation.

"Yes," Lucius said as he set his half-sipped drink aside. "Rodolphus managed to find time to bring someone that will help his restless nights."

Draco felt his chest grow heavy. He had a good idea of what his father meant, but he was trying his best not to believe it. First and foremost, it would be a stupid thing for Rodolphus to do. He was a wanted criminal and a criminal with a very identifiable habit. The moment the Ministry got word that someone was missing and how they were missing, all theories would lead straight to Rodolphus. And somehow, someone somewhere saw him. Someone always sees something. And in one way or another it could lead an Auror straight to Malfoy Manor. How on earth could his father, a man so dedicated to covering his own arse, be okay with this?

"Come," Lucius said as he led the way out of the study. Rodolphus followed closely behind him and Draco slowly trailed after the pair. Lucius was leading them out of the South Wing and back to the main lobby of the Manor. Within the lobby there was a large painting just beyond the stairs. Only a very few people could find the special keyhole within the intricate carving of the painting's frame. The keyhole was an enigma within itself if you didn't know that the rings the Malfoy men wore fit neatly inside. Draco was ashamed that he still wore his, but in all honesty it was because he liked the fashion of it, not where it led to.

And where the stairs behind the painting led to was a place that Draco hadn't stepped foot in in years. There just wasn't a need to. But with Uncle Rodolphus' visit the old dungeons had new life. Twenty stairs led their way to the cells that they kept. And inside one of them lay a young woman. She was unconscious and, to Draco's surprise, blemish free. But of course there was still the rest of Rodolphus' week at Malfoy Manor. There was plenty of time for the woman's pretty flesh to become massacred at the hand of a wand.

Draco moved closer to the cell. As he continued to stare at the woman who was his uncle's prisoner, Draco's heart quickened. He suddenly turned to Rodolphus and pointed a finger at the woman. "Do you have any idea who this is?"

Rodolphus smiled. "Of course I do. How could I not?"

"Do you really?" Draco countered. "This is bad."

"Come now, Draco," Rodolphus said as he chuckled and clapped a manly hand on his nephew's back. "What's life without a little risk?"

"There's a difference between risk and suicide." Draco said sternly, ignoring all of the daggers that Lucius was throwing at him. "Her friends won't rest until they find her. And they'll find her here. Who do you think will go to Azkaban for her?"

"None of us," Lucius said from behind them. Draco stared harshly at his father, all obedience to him flying out of the window. "I'm surprised at you, Draco. Clearly, you've forgotten who we are. Out of everything we've done and gotten away with, a simple kidnapping won't be an issue. Try not to ruin Rodolphus' stay."

Rodolphus was laughing again. His voice resonated off the stone walls and hit Draco's ears hard. It had certainly hit hers; deducible from the fact that her head had suddenly twitched. Draco was staring into the cell now, the voices of his father and uncle fading into deafness. She lay there, in an awkward position so that she was half on her back and on her side at the same time. Almost as though she had been simply thrown into the cell like a ragdoll. Draco couldn't take it. He tore his eyes away from the scene, scanning the ground from any source of dignity that would let her out, right there and then, instead of the opposite. Instead of watching the despicable men he called family leave the dungeons and following after them.

"I'm sorry, Granger…"