Neomi drifted off to sleep after a while, and Draco saw her true pain. As her sleep got deeper, she started fidgeting more and more, making small whining noises and the occasional shriek. He knew that she was having nightmares. She tried to hide it from him, but the truth was that she couldn't lie once she fell asleep. Every night she spent crying out in remembered pain just strengthened his resolve to get her out of here.

At the sound of someone coming down the stairs to the basement, Draco pulled his hand from through the bars, where it'd been resting on her hand. As his mother entered the room, he met her gaze coolly.

"Yes, mother? Is there something you need?" He kept his voice aloof and respectful, barely containing his anger. His mother was many things, but she had never been truly cruel until recently. She'd confided in him that she'd never cared for being a Death Eater, that she'd only taken the mark so that Lucius would be happy after he expressed a desire to do so. She'd spent the first war sitting in her husband's shadow, killing only when Voldemort insisted she do so. In his early life, she'd been a kind and caring mother, giving him whatever he wanted. Whenever Lucius would punish Neomi for something, she would be sure the girl got enough to eat and got a bath.

Of late, however, that small kindness seemed to have died out of her. She certainly wasn't the fanatical follower her sister was, but she hardly batted an eyelash at her orders, no matter what they were. The last of his respect for her had died when Lucius' torture of Neomi hadn't satisfied their master and she'd been asked to take over. Without the slightest hesitation, she'd made Neomi, a girl she'd called her daughter, whimper. His father's sessions had never made her make a noise, but Narcissa had forced the smallest sound from her. When he'd asked her why, she'd replied that she'd done it for him, that he was weak and would have been unable to do it, which would have been the Dark Lord's next request.

She'd said that the brat had to suffer so that he wouldn't.

Narcissa was the only person who knew the truth of him, that he hated Neomi's torture and wanted to save her. She wasn't aware that he didn't wish to follow the Dark Lord, of course. He would be dead if she did. Snape had spent a good deal of time at Hogwarts teaching Draco to resist Voldemort's Legilimency for that very reason. But she did know that he loved his sister and wanted to protect her. For that reason, he would tread lightly with her, worried she would see his plans in his eyes.

"I only wanted to come relieve you for a while. You need to eat," she replied, casting a suspicious look on him for his tone.

He wasn't fooled. She'd come down to get him away from Neomi. She kept trying to separate them, as if some time away would make him realize that she wasn't worth his affection.

"I'm not hungry, mother. I was brought food while you and father were with Neomi earlier," he replied smoothly. Luckily, this was true. Otherwise it would mean he hadn't eaten for over two days. But one of the so called lesser Death Eaters had brought him food while he waited for them to finish with her.

"Ah. Well, still. You should at the very least go upstairs a while, perhaps take a walk outside. You've been cooped up in here for days, Draco. You need to get out of this dismal place," she said, her eyes looking over the basement with scorn. Ironic, since it was a room in her own home.

"So does Neomi, but I don't see you offering to take her outside," he shot back, losing his composure for a moment.

She responded with an angry sigh. "Draco, you know that she cannot be taken away from this room unless under the Dark Lord's orders. She is a prisoner. And furthermore, you shouldn't care so much for her. You're going to get yourself thrown in with her if you don't cease this ridiculous affection," she retorted.

He decided he wouldn't argue. Best case scenario, they continued to argue and he became incredibly angry. Worst case, someone else overheard and he was reported as being a traitor for his compassion. Rather, he stared at the wall beyond her until she left.

After Narcissa closed the door at the top of the stairs, Neomi stirred.

"I can't believe she used to heal my bruises and trained Dobby to take care of me behind Lucius' back," she murmured, shaking her head, in part from sleepiness and in part in response to his mother.

"Agreed," he sighed, holding his head in his hand. "Neomi, we need to get you out of here," he said for the hundredth time.

She nodded, smiling a little sadly, a little mockingly. He was aware that she didn't believe he could save her. In her mind, she was just waiting for them to get sick of it and kill her. There had been speculation that if she didn't ever actively fight for either side, neither side would technically have her support and the prophecy would be void. Thus far Voldemort wasn't buying it, but he wasn't a patient man. They all knew it was only a matter of time before he decided they were right and killed her. She was just waiting for that.

"It'll be over soon, Draco," she said, reminding him of that very fact. "They'll kill me, and Harry will win. They're wrong about me needing to fight. I just have to know who I want to win. And I'm going to die wanting the Dark Lord to die. And it'll all be over." The thought made her smile, but he wanted to cry. She was so ready to die, just for it to end. She wasn't even willing to fight anymore.

He knew that's why she was being so defiant lately during the sessions. She was deliberately trying to piss them off, to make them angry so they'd kill her sooner. Her every barb was designed to hit them where it hurt. Lucius was ashamed he'd never managed to make her see their side, as he put it, so she reminded him of that fact every chance she got. Bellatrix thought herself to be better than the rest, the Dark Lord's favorite and most worthy follower, so she would constantly remind her of his obvious trust and preference for Snape. This particular bit of taunting was particularly satisfying for her, he knew, because she was one of the only living people who knew the truth.

Still, Draco wasn't as willing as she was to let her die. She was the only thing in his life that made him feel like a good person. Every terrible thing he'd done could be justified because he'd been trying to protect her. In his attempts to do so, he'd alienated himself from anyone worth knowing at school. If they killed her, he'd be a failure, and a lonely one at that. His entire life would be for nothing if he couldn't save her.

"No," he said. "You're not going to die. I won't let you," he said. Even now, he knew how they were getting out. He just had to wait for the pieces to fall into place…