A/N: My first Harry Potter fanfiction came nine years after I became a fan of the series. Go figure. This was supposed to take place during Deathly Hallows, but I think it could be considered a mild AU, as I'd forgotten that the Carrows made students practise curses on each other in school. I think Draco would got into trouble a lot sooner if that had been that had been the case. Constructive criticism is especially welcome, as I'm not sure if I've done the characters justice.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.
Draco Malfoy could not sleep that night.
It had nothing to do with the low rumble of thunder or the steady pitter-patter of the rain outside. His conscience was, once again, nagging at him, and Draco hated himself for it.
His thoughts wandered to his parents, who had exiled themselves to the west wing of the manor when the Dark Lord did not require their attendance. They would be sitting silently, their bodies tense, next to each other on the bed. Sleep didn't come easily very easily to anyone in the house these days, and the eye bags under his parents' eyes unnerved him almost as much as the Dark Lord terrified him.
What had happened to the glory he'd hoped to seek as Death Eater, eliminating mudbloods and making sure his family got what they deserved?
He had wanted security from all of this. Now he just wanted to take his family and run away.
He rolled around in his bed and stared hopelessly at the window.
He never thought he would have to even think it, but Potter had been right.
The last thing Draco thought before he fell asleep was that he heard a faint tinkling sound. Broken glass, maybe?
"Draco, wake up."
He lifted his face from the pillow and glared at whichever stupid house-elf that had come to wake him up at four in the morning. Only when he turned around, he saw his mother. Her gaunt features were like a slap to the face.
"What's wrong, Mother?" he said, sitting up. "Has the Dark Lord-"
"No." His mother's lips twisted. "It's Bella."
His stomach lurched. He'd been careful to use Occlumency around Aunt Bellatrix. Had she found out about his doubts, his waning loyalty to the Dark Lord?
"She says she wants you to have a look at the new prisoner, and confirm if it's truly Xenophilius Lovegood's daughter."
"Loony Lovegood?" Draco blurted out, feeling stupidly relieved for a moment. So she wasn't going to kill him!
He then remembered why Luna Lovegood had probably been brought to his house, and his happiness dissipated.
Draco tried to put up an air of false bravado when walking down the parlour. The least he could do was to make sure Aunt Bellatrix suspected as little as possible. His mother was next to him. She clasped his hand as he opened the door and went to sit next to his father. He met his father's eyes briefly and turned to face Aunt Bellatrix.
His aunt's face was rapt with glee, making her look about fifteen years younger than she actually was. She motioned to the pile at her feet, and Draco reluctantly looked down.
Lovegood was conscious, but injured. She was soaking wet and had small bruises all over her body and there seemed to be something off with the way she was laying on the floor.
"Well, Draco," she purred, taking a step closer to him, "Yaxley and Travers found the girl as on her way back home. This is one of the blood-traitors that has been leading the rebellion force at school, is it not? One of Harry Potter's most fervent supporters?"
He tried not to look directly at Lovegood for too long, or to shrink from Aunt Bellatrix's gaze. Either could get me killed.
"Yeah," he forced out. "Yeah, that's her."
His chest felt like lead. Out of the corner of his eye- he couldn't help himself- he saw Lovegood stiffen slightly.
His aunt's grin widened. She picked Lovegood up by the collar. Lovegood's expression was unreadable; Draco was confounded that anyone not familiar with his aunt could look her in the eye and not be cowed.
"Consider yourself lucky for now, girl," she hissed. "I intend to keep you around for a while before I send your dead body back to your father."
She dropped Lovegood like a sack of potatoes. Draco heard a faint intake of breath, but otherwise the girl remained silent.
"I will see her later," Aunt Bellatrix said, as the house-elves scampered out from the corners of the parlour and started carrying Lovegood out of the room. Draco was taking this chance to leave when he felt his aunt's viselike grip on his shoulder.
"A word, if you please, Draco," she said. He froze for a moment, then slowly turned around and faced her. His eyes sought his parents; they looked as bewildered as he felt.
She frowned at him. "Oh, you needn't be so tense," she said. "I know it's still early and you wish to rest, but I want to talk to you about your education."
It was becoming increasingly harder to disguise his fear around her. He hoped she'd interpret his silence as an unspoken question.
How in the name of Merlin did Lovegood do it?
Don't look scared, don't look scared…
Thankfully, his aunt didn't seem to notice anything. "You're not without talent, Draco," she said, her eyes taking on that fanatical glow he used to like but now feared, "but you would be putting it to waste if you remain too weak to do what must be done."
His heart sank. He didn't particularly care for Lovegood and her lot, but he didn't want to be involved in whatever his aunt had in store for her.
"Perhaps asking you to kill Dumbledore was a bit much for someone so new." She took another step towards him sized him up; he fought the instinctive urge to step back. "Nevertheless, I'm sure the Dark Lord will forgive you if you prove your worth elsewhere."
"How, so, Aunt?" he said at last, fearing that the silence was becoming unnatural. His voice sounded hoarse and frightened to his own ears.
"The Lovegood girl," Aunt Bellatrix continued. She waved carelessly at the squad of elves still struggling to bring the girl out of the room. "You should start small, dear nephew, and practise your curses on her in earnest. You'll be reassuring me a great deal, I think; I will confess that I've recently started having certain doubts about you."
No! No!
"Of course, Aunt Bellatrix," he found himself saying. It would foolish to say otherwise, not when every reply meant putting his family at stake.
Over his aunt's shoulder, he saw his father and mother gripping each other's hands. His father otherwise had gone very still; his eyes were joyless. His mother was doing even less to hide her feelings; she was staring directly at him, her loose hand twitching and her eyes huge and almost teary.
Luna supposed that she should consider herself lucky that the house-elves hadn't thrown her the way Bellatrix had. She was quite sure she would have lost consciousness if they had.
She murmured a meaningless thank you and struggled to sit up. Her leg hurt, and she wished she had her wand with her.
She thought of Daddy, who had probably received the news of her disappearance and was frantic with fear and grief, and felt a pang of sadness. Her father was a wonderful, wise man, but he wasn't strong. She still remembered having to support him in the days following her mother's death.
She hoped that everything would turn out well for him. Perhaps the Snorkack horn he'd found could be useful.
She half dragged herself across room, hoping to find something that could keep her warm. She saw a blanket covering something and pulled it off. She'd expected to see a pile of boxes or some old furniture, but what she saw instead was the outline of a skeletal old man.
It was Mr Ollivander.
Luna 's heart went out to the poor man. He had gashes across his cheek and his lips were moving soundlessly. She smoothed out the blanket and put it over him.
She then lay down on the floor and tried not to think about the torture the wandmaker had endured. She was quite sure that she would be experiencing something similar later.
She wouldn't let it break her.
She started humming a tune her mother had taught her to calm herself. Making a fuss about her current situation wouldn't do anyone any good.
Trust Harry, Ron and Hermione. They'll save us when the time comes.
Luna had very little sleep that night. Before she knew it, someone was kicking her in the stomach. She awoke with a gasp.
"Awake, aren't we?" Bellatrix Lestrange leered. "Follow me."
Luna staggered after the woman, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't help wondering why Bellatrix didn't just torture her within the cellar itself. She didn't seem like the type person who cared if she put up a show.
She fleetingly considered wrestling Bellatrix's wand from her, but shook her head almost immediately. She was in no shape to fight.
The Wrackspurts were getting to her, and so was her own mounting fright. Luna took a deep calming breath and looked up as Bellatrix stopped and opened a door.
Up one deserted passageway and down a flight of stairs. Malfoy Manor was big and beautiful, but also very sad. Luna was certain that under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed taking a stroll around the house.
Bellatrix finally stopped and opened another door.
They seemed have entered a study of sorts. Luna knelt immediately, not wanting to give Bellatrix another reason to kick her. A subdued voice from a corner drew Luna out of her thoughts.
"Thanks for bringing her here, Aunt Bellatrix."
Draco Malfoy?
"It was nothing, Draco," she said. "I'll just do my part here and leave her here for you to do yours."
She paused, and when she spoke again, there was a note of disapproval in her voice. "Snape has requested that she stay alive until we have Potter. He believes that there is a chance that Potter might try to contact her during the holidays, and that her father would be more willing to cooperate if we leave a thread of hope hanging."
Luna's breath caught in her throat. They've already cornered Daddy into this?
"Of course, Aunt Bellatrix," Malfoy replied, and Luna was surprised to note the stiffness in his voice.
She caught his eyes and he looked away, biting his lip. Odd, she thought, considering he's agreed to hurt me.
Her contemplations were cut off when she felt Bellatrix's wand at her throat. "Get your filthy gaze off my nephew," Bellatrix snarled. "You have no right to look at him like you're his equal."
She grabbed Luna's hair and added, in a tone that made Luna's skin crawl, "Now, you will tell me what you know about Harry Potter's whereabouts."
"Nothing," Luna said honestly. "Only those with him would know."
She wasn't expecting Bellatrix to believe her, but seeing the woman's eyes bulge and her mouth thin was still a frightening sight. "Liar," she said, her voice going up an octave. "You're one of his closest friends, you should know. Crucio!"
Luna promptly collapsed to the floor, failing to muffle her scream.
Draco reckoned that after seeing the Dark Lord kill so many people in front of him, he should be somewhat desensitized to seeing Aunt Bellatrix torture Luna Lovegood.
He was wrong. Seeing Lovegood scream and writhe on the floor made him want to vomit. It was Lovegood- the school's unflappable nutter. She was almost irrelevant. She wasn't supposed to be able to scream like that and make him feel horribly guilty for no reason.
He eventually turned away from the scene. Aunt Bellatrix didn't seem to notice. If there was one thing that had been slowly dawning on him the past few days, it that his aunt had a tendency to miss the small details of a situation.
The torture went on for about fifteen minutes or so, with Lovegood constantly denying having any knowledge of Potter's whereabouts.
She was either telling the truth or being very, very stupid about the whole thing. He found himself wishing that she'd say something, just so that the screaming – and the miserable thoughts floating around in his head- would stop.
Do us both a favour, Lovegood. The Carrows are one thing, but Aunt Bellatrix is another. Stop acting like a Gryffindor idiot.
He only dared look up when the screams- both Lovegood's anguished ones and his aunt's furious ones- had died down.
An unconscious Lovegood was on the floor, quivering slightly. Aunt Bellatrix was standing above her, taking heaving breaths. Her eyes were very bright.
"I shall see her again tomorrow," she said. "If I determine in due time that she is telling the truth, I will speak to Snape" -she said his name bitterly- "again. I don't see the point in keeping her alive in such a scenario." She turned to him. "I need to leave the house now. I will leave you to your studies, Draco."
He nodded wordlessly. She strode out of the room, and he was left staring blankly at Loony Lovegood on the floor.
He liked feeling strong. He liked stepping on people, and was delighted when they reacted and got into trouble. It was what he'd tried to do to Potter and his gang in school. Even after he'd painfully admitted to Potter being right, he couldn't honestly say he regretted making the other boy miserable.
But now… he couldn't bring himself to curse an already-battered Lovegood, even when he was deliberately pushing his parents' concern about him to the forefront of his thoughts.
They'd tried to keep it a secret, but he was aware of what they said to each other when either was particularly close to breaking down: Think of Draco.
It was the reason why his father wanted Potter caught so badly. The privileges mattered little at this point; getting back into the Dark Lord's favour meant they'd all still have some chance of survival. It was why his mother went to the extent of having an Unbreakable Vow made with Professor- Headmaster- Snape.
I still don't want to do this.
But he had to. He had to show his aunt the proof and make sure nobody in his family died.
She's already half dead. I don't have to do much.
His stomach recoiled as soon as the thought entered his mind.
The word compromise followed it almost immediately, and his breath stopped momentarily.
It was a miraculous solution. But how? And would it worth the risks?
His brain continued flailing desperately for an answer.
Time was running out.
Luna stirred feebly and half-opened her eyes.
Her first thought was that maybe she was back in the cellar again. Being left there would be a huge blessing. Her chest hurt, she had a splitting headache, and she was fairly sure her arms had been injured.
She took a shaky breath and winced at the pain in her chest. Her vision was still blurry; it was hard to tell exactly where she was.
Someone pressed something against her lips. She heard a familiar voice speaking but she didn't understand any of what he or she was saying.
She hesitated, the word poison slowly flitting through her mind. But she was too weak to resist, and when once she felt the liquid touch her parched throat she drank hungrily, almost blindly. It felt so good.
She then drifted off to sleep while hearing the voice mumble something.
When Luna woke up again she found herself on the floor. She sat up, and was surprised at the relative ease with which she was able to do so. Her body still hurt (she didn't think she could walk properly just yet), but her headache was nearly gone and her vision had cleared.
She looked around. Malfoy was sitting at his desk and muttering almost feverishly to himself. His wand was on his desk, along with an empty vial.
It didn't take Luna long to realize what had happened.
He healed me. But why?
Quite frankly, Luna was stunned. It wasn't often that she was truly dumbstruck by the things that happened to her, but Draco Malfoy defying orders and helping her instead of torturing her was something that she would never have foreseen.
As if he'd heard her musings, he twitched and turned around, his hand reaching out to his wand. Luna automatically tensed.
"You're awake," he said, sounding oddly dazed. "Good. I'm supposed to practise my curses on you…" his voice trailed off as he pointed his wand at her.
Luna looked at him. He looked positively terrified, and she found herself pitying him. Malfoy was a lot of unlikeable things, but this seemed to be something even he didn't dare do.
"You healed me just to practise your curses on me," she said cautiously. She tilted her head. "May I ask why?"
He stared at her, flummoxed. "You're not supposed to be asking questions."
Luna decided to take a risk and test the waters a little. "I could try and take your wand from you," she said, keeping her voice steady and keeping an eye on the wand. "But we both know I'm in no condition to fight, and even if I managed to escape, I'd feel bad about leaving Mr Ollivander alone in this house."
Malfoy gripped the wand almost convulsively. His mouth was moving, but no words came out. He wasn't calm enough to cast spells of any kind.
"Shut up, Lovegood," he eventually said. "You're insane to be talking like that in this situation. Aunt Bellatrix's Cruciatus has done you in. She hasn't killed you, but you're already dead."
I don't break that easily.
She refrained from saying that aloud. Instead, she waited to see if he'd say anything more. She could hear the mounting hysteria in his voice and wondered if he really believed what he'd just said- or if he believed in anything he'd been told to do.
He's being forced to do this.
Luna disliked seeing people suffer. And while she thought that Malfoy had brought a lot of his suffering upon himself, she also couldn't forget the fact that he'd healed her.
This might be an idea worth trying out. I'll have to be very careful, though.
Ginny would have objected to the idea, and even Neville would have raised an eyebrow. Luna had her own doubts about the idea, but she always made it a point to try whatever ideas came to her at least once, as odd and unlikely as they could be.
"I've hexed your lot before," Malfoy was saying after a pause. "I can do it again."
It was almost like he was trying to convince himself. "You haven't in this particular context," she said softly. "And if you wanted to do it I don't think you would have bothered healing me first."
Malfoy looked at her incredulously. He opened his mouth as if to yell at her but then glanced at the door and closed it again. Luna, meanwhile, was trying to calm herself by playing her mother's melody in her mind. She knew she was really wading in treacherous waters now, but wouldn't do to let her fears overtake her and panic.
"I can't say I know why," she said as calmly as she could, "but it's quite clear that you don't want to engage in Death Eater activities anymore. You could leave, and we'd try and help you in whatever way possible."
A strangled sound escaped Malfoy's throat. His wand arm had fallen to his side. "You're mad, Lovegood," he said, his voice a shaking whisper. "That's impossible. Do you honestly think they'll look past the last six years? Especially after what happened with Dumbledore last year? "
"I don't think they'll trust you right away," she admitted. She gingerly shifted herself into a more comfortable position. "The least I can do is vouch for your feelings being genuine- and I think they are. I'd like to think I'm a good judge of character."
His eyes darted around before he spoke again. "You just want me to fight on your side. You don't actually want to help me, you just want one less Death Eater to deal with."
Luna blinked at the accusatory tone his voice had suddenly taken on. "It's a bit of both, I think," she said, frowning slightly. "Certainly I'd want Harry, Ron, Hermione and the DA to defeat He Who Must Not Be Named. But I also want to help you simply because you seem very miserable as a Death Eater."
Malfoy started shaking his head as she was speaking. "No, you're lying. Lying!" His voice grew more resolute as he repeated the word. "You can't honestly think Potter and your ragtag bunch of rebels would be enough to defeat the Dark Lord. I'd be a dead man, and my parents… I have to do this!"
The tip of his wand was starting to glow. Luna pressed her lips together.
She'd known the risk, but that didn't mean she was going to enjoy it.
She saw a white flash and then there was blackness.
He'd done it. He'd finally done it.
He wondered if he should feel so empty about getting the job done.
Draco looked at the wand in his hand.
He wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it again tomorrow. But he'd escaped Aunt Bellatrix's – and by proxy the Dark Lord's fury- for today.
To add to the whole mess, the infuriatingly calm Lovegood had hit a raw nerve with her promises of help and safety.
In all honesty, he couldn't imagine Potter defeating the Dark Lord. Not when he'd already infiltrated the Ministry and had Snatchers scouring Britain for the other boy.
Lovegood was fool for placing so much trust in Potter- and in him. He'd healed her simply to assuage his conscience about having to curse her, but she seemed to think him an altruistic man because of that.
He wasn't.
He had to do this for his parents. They were the only ones he could trust. He felt like he'd go mad if the Dark Lord killed them.
They were all he needed, he told himself as he strode to the door and called for the house-elves to take Lovegood- who was bleeding, but fully conscious and watching him with an expression that he didn't want to describe as sad- back to the cellar.
It didn't stop him from cringing at his own hypocrisy.
Luna took a look at her new wounds as the house-elves half-carried, half dragged her back her cellar.
They were the kind that looked much worse than they actually were. The wounds Malfoy had inflicted on her were certainly nowhere as near as bad as the ones Bellatrix had.
Maybe Ron and Ginny had been right about her being too naïve and blunt for her own good. But she didn't regret it; she'd meant every word she'd said.
She thought it was nice that Malfoy cared so much about his family. She also liked to think that the fact he healed her meant something… that there was a little bit of kindness hidden behind the selfishness and fear.
What a pity that he couldn't beat his own cowardice.
She was a little surprised to find that she couldn't really hate him for that.