Disclaimer: the characters belong to the one and only J.K Rowling, I'm just borrowing.


Draco stood there for a few precious seconds, staring blankly at the unconscious girl before him until he processed Carrow's words. He was to take her home. He inwardly sighed. Adapt, he told himself, he was good at that, adapting. Draco was supposed to go home in an hour or so; the Headmaster had declared an early Christmas break for those who were allowed to leave school grounds. In other words, only purebloods were to leave unless they chose otherwise. He carried his portkey with him, a small shoe that had belonged to him when he was a child. He took it out now from his robe pocket and clutched it in his left hand; he still held his wand with his right.

He sat down a few feet away from the girl but kept his eyes trained on her. He wondered again why they had chosen her out of everyone. Surely if they wanted to get close to Potter they would have hauled in the Weasley girl. He counted off the minutes in his head, wanting to get rid of her as soon as possible. He didn't know what the others had in mind for her but he didn't care to find out. They were in a war. What did another tortured soul matter anyway?


He was transported to the Malfoy Manor by the portkey. He had had to drag the still unconscious girl with him. He landed inside their drawing room and was greeted by the only other person he hated more than the Dark Lord himself. His aunty Bellatrix. He mentally cursed; he hadn't expected her to be there. And then he cursed himself again, where else would she be? It's not like she's got anywhere else to go. That particular thought daunted him even further.

"Draco, my boy!" she shrieked in her high, raspy voice, like she was delighted he had finally decided to show up. She gave his shoulder a rough squeeze before turning her gaze onto the girl on the floor. "Oh, right, the Quibbler girl," she said. So that's why they wanted her, she was the daughter of the Quibbler's editor. He had heard some people mention back in school that that was the only magazine not corrupted by death eaters. Lovegood was coming back to her senses; she slowly opened her eyes and tried to sit upright only to have Bellatrix kick her down once more. Bellatrix looked disgustedly at the girl, her right heel resting on Lovegood's stomach. Draco almost said something. Almost.

Bellatrix spoke again, this time to one of the empty headed death eaters standing guard by the door. Draco didn't quite remember his name; he didn't care anyway. "Take her to the cellar," she commanded. She didn't look to see if he complied or not, she turned back to Draco. "Come now, Draco. Your mother's waiting." He almost glanced back while he walked away. Almost.


Luna was barely conscious when the man forced her on her feet. She let out a soft moan but said nothing. Her whole body hurt. The man pushed her towards a wooden doorway in the corner, she was dizzy but she didn't fall. The doorway opened to a flight of steep stone stairs. It was freezing cold; she shivered and crumbled her feet. The man nudged her again and she slowly started descending, her feet had already gone numb.

Down the stairs were steel bars that led to what looked like a jail cell. The man opened the locked door and shoved her inside; she landed on her back. The floor was made of stone as well and she was shivering more violently. She glanced at the man who was locking the door again. He didn't seem older than twenty and already he looked like a monster from a horror book. He was big, he had huge eyes and when he found her staring, he grinned. His front teeth were all missing. Luna looked away.

Ever since she was a little girl, Luna had never been scared for herself. When she saw her mother die, she feared not for herself but for her father who had just lost the person he had promised to spend his entire life with. When the girls at Hogwarts were being mean, she wasn't scared of what they'd do to her because she knew they only did so to try and please themselves. When she was fighting alongside the DA members at the Ministry of Magic, she wasn't frightened for herself; she was scared of what might have happened to the others, her friends. Now, looking around herself she felt an unfamiliar jolt of fear. She wasn't going to die here; she could hear her mother in her mind telling her to always keep going. You can't go back she was telling her so you have to go on.

I'm not scared she repeated to herself. I'm not scared. I'm not scared.


The Malfoy Manor, his house, now seemed as though it was a lounge for death eaters. He was just in his mother's room. She was scared, he knew. She didn't have to tell him. She never wanted to be a part of this; it was a miracle she even stuck with his father through the last few months. That was an act too, he knew. She didn't stick around because of Lucius but because of Draco. He almost told her not to, he almost told her to go somewhere else. Almost. But he couldn't. He was selfish and he couldn't let go of the only other person he cared about.

Draco cursed his life once again as he paced in his bedroom. Soon enough, his father will call him down to have dinner with all the others. He hated pretending he was one of them. He wasn't. They were lunatics, all of them. His aunt, his father, they were all mad. He was no better either but at-least he knew that. He knew he was deranged; they had no idea. He thought of leaving sometimes, of running away from these nightmares. He almost did. Almost. But he caught himself, started making excuses. Telling himself he couldn't leave his mother behind. Telling himself he didn't have anywhere else to go or anyone else to go to. That's all they were though, excuses, because he didn't want to face the truth. He was scared; terrified of what would happen if he ever got caught. So he went along with everything. It was safer that way; better even. He almost convinced himself. Almost.

During dinner, his aunt called him over. He had an unsettling feeling even before she started to speak, "I'm putting you on prisoners' duty," she said.

Prisoners' duty? Draco had a vague idea on what that meant; he had to keep the prisoners in check. Which would also mean Lovegood wasn't the only one caged in their cellar. A lounge for death eaters wasn't enough? They also had to turn his house into a prison? "Why me?" he spoke at last, "Why can't the rat do it?" He asked, meaning Wormtail.

Bellatrix threw him her glare for the rare times someone decided to argue with her. "Pettigrew is running errands for the Dark Lord," she hissed in her shrill voice. Draco sucked in a breath as she came closer; she was intimidating, but Draco made sure to hold a blank expression. He clenched his fists to keep himself from doing something rash. She pointed to a steel tray filled with spoiled food and told him to take it down to the cellar. "Make sure to bring the tray back," she flashed him a smile showing all her yellowed teeth. He let out a small breath as she walked away.

Draco grabbed the tray and made his way down to the wooden door that led downstairs. The tray only contained two rotten apples and two pieces of stale bread and a small jug of water. He wondered who else was down there; he doubted the food would be enough to sustain even one person. He held his wand tightly as he stepped through the last set of stairs. It was cold down here; he shuddered slightly even though he was wearing a heavy robe. A steel barricade greeted him taking him by surprise. They must have just added the steel bars fairly recently because they weren't there before.

He muttered Lumos and his wand conjured a bright orange light. He saw Lovegood right away. She was sitting crouched down with her head in between her knees. On the corner he saw another figure; looking closely he found it was Ollivander. Why the hell was Ollivander the Wandmaker imprisoned in his home? Lovegood looked up at him; she looked worse than she did a few hours ago when he brought her here. Her new bruises were starting to show. She kept staring; it seemed like she was curious as to why he was here. Draco slid the tray down under the bars towards her and she glanced down towards the sad compilation of food for two people. Draco swallowed his guilt and had every intention of turning around and leaving when he remembered Bellatrix's pitched voice telling him to bring the tray back.

Lovegood now tilted her head a little to the side with a questioning look most likely wondering why he still stood there. Draco inwardly sighed; he has been doing that quite a lot lately. "I need the tray back," he finally said. She nodded like she understood him. Draco watched as she slowly got up, wincing in pain, and picked up the tray. She didn't say a single word to him as she trotted over to Ollivander.

"Mr. Ollivander?" she asked. She handed him a piece of bread and one of the apples. That was the first time Draco had heard her voice during this entire affair. He was surprised by how steady her voice sounded; the girl was strong, he had to admit. Draco noticed she took the smaller piece for herself. Typical, he thought. What? Did she want to starve herself to death?

She now walked back towards him. She put the water jug on the floor and slid the tray back. She crouched down back to where she was sitting when he came in, close to the bars with her back to the wall. Draco picked up the tray. He gave them one last look before turning away. He almost said sorry before leaving. Almost.