Disclaimer: no infringement intended. Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me and I obviously get no profit from it (I wish...)

*Now comes the moment where I grovel at your feet and apologise for taking, like, nine months to update this fic. I am truly sorry!

Here's my explanation, if you care to hear it: I had written this chapter about three weeks after the last one was posted, after a long and suffering author's block. However! The universe conspired against me and destroyed my old computer, alond with my hard drive and everything that was in it. Luckily I had stored the other chapters in a portable hard drive, but the new one? Nope, not a single trace. (the worst was that I had also got rid of my manuscripts and would have to write it all over from scratch). I was in such a state of extreme rage that I simply refused to do it for many months, until I realised, as a fanfiction reader, that I was going to disappoint some people, so I glued myself to the chair this weekend and did it.

Here's the result. I really hope you like it :D*

Chapter 3 – Prisoner

Draco was reading peacefully in the morning parlour – devouring his new acquisition from the Librarian – and sipping his cup of tea when Millie, their serving girl, suddenly burst into the room, looking exasperated and out of breath. He put his book aside with some effort, marking the page, and stood up to walk to the girl by the door.

'What is it, Millie,' he started annoyed, but concerned all the same for the probable meaning of her state, 'I was reading and you know better than to interrupt me.'

'A- a visitor- in the drawing room- forced his way in- I- I couldn't help it- but- I'm sorry, master Draco, so-sorry-'

'Breathe, woman, for goodness' sake!' he said. 'I can't understand what you mean; who is in the drawing room?'

'That- that brute from the village,' she said wide-eyed, 'Tom Riddle.'

Draco's stomach sank at those words. Of all that could happen, the man had managed to follow him inside his own house? The day could not get any worse.

'What do you mean Tom Riddle is in my house! Why did you let him in, are you insane? You bloody well know I hate him!' he said.

He had raised his voice to an almost shout that had Millie cowering slightly and sputtering a chain of apologies, which she finished with, 'He- he forced his way in when I opened the door to see who it was, I couldn't help it!'

Draco looked back at his discarded book on the seat of his favourite armchair with a pout. The book truly was exceptionally good and the boy loathed abandoning it, to go throw Tom Riddle out of the Manor, no less. Sighing, the blond stood taller and braced himself, leaving the parlour and strolling purposefully towards the drawing room.

Upon arriving at the door of the room in case, Draco stopped and stared dumbfounded at the horrific sight that met his eyes through the open door. The blighter Riddle was laying on one of the couches, with his bare feet propped up on one of its arms as if this were his home and he were used to doing so every day of his life; muddy boots rested near him on the beige carpet, which Draco noticed mortified had several brownish footprints. Feeling offended and furious, Draco stomped in and over to the bastard that had dared invade his home and make himself comfortable without anyone's consent but his own. The brute looked up when Draco reached him and grinned wolfishly at the blond.

'Draco, dear, there you are. I was beginning to think that bint had lost herself trying to find you,' the man said.

And even having the audacity of insulting my servants! The nerve of him!

'Tom, what a lovely surprise,' began Draco, with sarcasm which he remembered belatedly the other would not be able to catch. 'What are you doing here, exactly? I don't remember inviting you over.'

'Lovely surprise, you say,' he started, 'well, isn't it, though, Draco?' He stood up suddenly and moved to the mantelpiece in a few strides. Looking at his own reflexion on the golden-framed mirror above the fireplace, he grinned broadly at himself and stroked his teeth with the tip of his tongue, as though polishing them, giving especial attention to his left canine. Draco observed the scene with utter disgust, but waited patiently for the brute to finish admiring himself, meanwhile crossing his arms over his chest.

Finally closing his mouth, however still not turning around, Tom Riddle looked at Draco through the mirror.

'There's not a young man or woman who would not kill to be in your place today, you know, Draco?' he boasted arrogantly.

'Oh, is that so?' asked the blond, whirling around and walking swift out of the room, in the direction of the entrance hall, the other man following him still talking.

'Why yes! This is the day your dreams come true,' he said smugly.

What? Is he out of his mind?

'And what exactly would you know about my dreams?' Draco was quickly becoming more and more angry; in fact, if this did not stop soon, he would most likely reach the highest level of rage that he had ever felt his whole life.

'Plenty, of course,' Riddle said. 'I am sure you can picture it: a rustic lodge by the woods, my latest kill roasting on the fire; my better half taking care of me, massaging my feet; the little ones playing on the floor with the dogs – we'll have seven.'

'Dogs?'

Riddle laughed. 'No, Draco – boys! Strapping, like me!'

They had reached the hall and the boy turned to looked at his unwanted guest.

'Wow, imagine that,' said the blond rolling his eyes. 'And who will this lucky person be, Tom?' he inquired carefully, anticipating the answer with something akin to nausea.

'Isn't it obvious?' he stared at Draco expectantly, but upon receiving no response smiled slyly and lowered his voice, 'Why, you, of course!'

'Me?' he feigned surprise to cover his absolute outrage at the obvious insinuation of his prompt acceptance – which could not be further from the truth. How dare he! 'Tom, I... I have no words! Really, I don't know what to say...'

He started moving back as the other came nearer. He had begun to feel a bit overwhelmed, oppressed by the man's presence and was looking for a way to get rid of him. The brute, however, was not deterred by Draco's clear annoyance and stepped forward for every step back that the blond man took. Soon Draco was cornered, his back pressed to the front door and the taller man looming over him, his face inching closer and closer.

'Say yes, Draco. Why would you deny yourself imminent happiness by my side?'

'I am terribly sorry, Tom,' he started, his hand crawling over the wood to grab the handle, which he turned suddenly, wrenching the door open swinging outside with it, 'but I do not deserve you!'

Not expecting the abrupt movement and being in the process of leering at Draco, Tom Riddle lost his balance and fell face first on the ground, still barefoot and with his arse sticking up in the air.

Draco suppressed a snort at the other's predicament and said very clearly, 'Please, do not come back here again. I shall never – and I repeat, never – accept you, Tom, no matter what you do. Stay away from me.' He promptly shut the door and ran back inside, up the stairs into the drawing room. He picked the blighter's muddy boots and carried them to the window; opening it he threw them out, knowing the objects would land close to where their owner had fallen.

Serves you right, bastard.

Turning around he saw Millie standing by the door and could not hold it any longer, bursting with laughter, in a strange mixture of rage, amusement and indignation. By the look on Millie's face, he probably looked like a madman, but Draco could not care less. Throwing the brute Riddle out of the door and onto the ground had been one of the most satisfying things he had ever done in his life and the blond man did not regret it one tiny bit.

Having finally stopped laughing, Draco let out one last chuckle and sat down on the chaise near the wall, shaking his head, still incredulous with what had just happened.

'Marry Tom! Can you imagine?' he said to the room, 'That boorish, brainless, rude ruffian! What did he expect, that I would become some sort of little housewife he could explore? Can't you just see it? No, thank you, I guarantee this will not ever happen! I'd much rather gouge my own eyes out or be eaten alive by rats than spend the rest of my life within touching distance of that man. I want much more than what he could ever presume to offer me.'

Marry Tom!

Draco was starting to recover from the whole set of events and decided to go back to the book waiting for him in the parlour. Nevertheless, he did not have the chance to take a single step towards the door when he heard a commotion from outside, voices shouting and what sounded suspiciously like Philippe. What on earth...

He walked to the window once again and stopped short with a foreboding feeling creeping up his spine.

It truly was Philippe, desperately prancing and kicking left and right while the gamekeeper tried in vain to hold him down. Panic hit Draco hard as he noticed that Narcissa was nowhere in sight. He ran out of the room and thundered down the stairs, threw open the front door and ran in the horse's direction, shouting, 'Philippe!' The animal stood still while Draco approached.

He looked at Goyle, but the man only shrugged and mumbled that the horse had come barrelling through the gates without his mother.

'Philippe! What are you doing here? Where's mother? What happened?' the horse began shaking his large head impatiently, pulling at the reins, as if trying to express something urgent and annoyed that the humans could not understand him. Draco noticed the saddle was missing and Philippe had several scratches along his rear and neck, some still oozing blood. Draco took the reins from the gamekeeper's hands and put a calming hand on Philippe's face, managing to draw the horse's full attention.

'Philippe,' Draco said slowly and in a low voice, 'were you attacked? Where's mother?'

The horse neighed and threw its head back.

'Alright. Here's what we're going to do, you bloody chicken: I am going to tend to your wounds very quickly and then you are taking me where you lost my mother.' He patted the animal's forehead and smiled gently. Philippe was quiet and let himself be taken to the stables, where he drank some water while his wounds were cleaned by Draco, who was a bit wary as to his reaction but was pleasantly surprised when the horse did not even flinch at the multiple stings he must have felt.

Less than twenty minutes later they were ready to go, Draco mounted on a new saddle, wrapped in a travelling cloak and giving orders to the few servants that stood next to the horse.

'Should Philippe return alone, it means I sent him back because it was dangerous, so do not come after me. You will tend to him and the house as usual and wait for us to come back. Is it clear?'

'Yes, master,' they said in unison, all tense looking and serious.

'Don't worry, I'll bring her back safely,' he promised, more to assure himself than the three servants. 'Off we go, then.' He lightly kicked Philippe's rear once and rode out of the gates.

They had been travelling for a couple of hours when Philippe took a sharp turn, going off the road and into the woods surrounding it. Draco did not question the action and silently let the horse guide him. Albeit too easily frightened and stubborn, the animal certainly was more intelligent than any other of his kind and extremely loyal to Narcissa. Although it was still early afternoon, the sunlight barely reached the ground, so thick were the brownish treetops above them, giving it an eerie atmosphere that sent a small chill up the blond man's spine, the fine hairs on his neck rising.

The man was starting to get antsy when he noticed some sort of building far beyond, but could not make out exactly what it was. Draco urged the horse to go faster and soon realised what stood before him, opening his eyes wide and gaping disbelievingly at the sight. And what a sight.

'No way in hell,' he murmured.

There, in the middle of the darkened forest, was a gloomy and decrepit castle, just as he had imagined from the tales he was told as a boy. The walls around it were decayed, darkened and covered in vines, horrid gargoyles on the rooftops. As they reluctantly approached the wrought-iron gates a crow poised itself atop one of the folds and cried at them as though inquiring their purpose. Draco got off the saddle and walked slowly towards where the bird stood.

'Is my mother here, you think?' he wondered aloud, turning to look over his shoulder at Philippe. The animal snorted and stomped his front hoof twice in agitation.

'Alright, I get it – you don't like it here – but I need to know if she's here, I am going in. You stay here and wait for me.'

He made to grab a bar of the gates and almost jumped out of his skin as the crow – whose existence he had momentarily forgotten – cawed loudly and flew away. 'Damned bird.'

Opening the gates, the boy took a deep breath and strolled forward, determined to find his mother as he climbed up the stairs and knocked twice on the great oak portal. Honestly, a horned beast as a knocker? People simply have got no taste these days...

For some reason still unknown to him, Draco was not surprised when the door opened on its own and strode into the dark threshold, looking about him warily. The place was clearly abandoned, if the amount of dust and moth holes all around had anything to say about it.

'Hello?' he called out. 'Is there anybody home?'

No answer. Draco kept walking in, exploring door after door in the entrance hall until he found a dimly lit corridor, strolling along it and calling out the whole while. At some point he climbed down two sets of stairs, certain that they were leading him to the dungeons. His mind was racing with the possibilities, imagining, hoping, fearing what he might find; whether would find Narcissa and if she would be alright; who the master of this castle was or if they even existed; what he would do once he found his mother, what sort of obstacles there would be. Draco knew deep inside that it would not be that simple rescuing the woman and he needed to be prepared to face whatever came his way.

At last he encountered a heavy wooden gate with a small barred window, through which he could only just see another narrow corridor and feel the damp chill that soaked the rough stone walls, thinking this would be the perfect context to become ill.

He hesitated with a hand on the bolt and then he heard it.

A woman was talking, her voice muffled, probably a hundred feet away and he was certain one of the words was his name. Bursting into action, Draco opened the door and ran following the voice. He passed several doors until he found what he thought was his mother's cell.

'Mother!' he shouted, banging on the door. 'Mother!'

'Draco!' he heard her call back from behind the door. There was the sound of steps and the voice became louder, 'Draco, is it you?' she asked. 'God, I cannot believe it! You actually found me – I must say I am incredibly proud of your skills – how did you do it?'

'Never mind how I did it, mother, I need to get you out of here as quickly as possible.'

He had no idea how to do that, now that he came to think of it, for the door was locked and there was no sign of keys anywhere near. It was obvious also very heavy, meaning he could not hope to break into the cell by kicking it down.

'I don't know how to open it, mother!'

'Draco, listen to me,' she scolded firmly, 'it is too dangerous. Get yourself out of here while you still can, darling, save yourself, I will be fine!'

'Horseshit!' he could picture his mother scowling at his language. 'You are locked up in a damp cell, in the middle of nowhere! How can you be fine? Don't make me laugh.' While ranting he was frantically trying to find something, anything to break the lock, the hinges, whatever set his mother free.

'No, Draco, please go! There is a creature, a beast, he will kill you, please-'

'A beast? Is that who did this to you? What do you mean, a beast?'

'Draco you must leave at once!'

'No! I refuse to leave you here.'

'Draco-'

Narcissa's next plea was interrupted by a deafening roar coming from the entrance of the corridor. Terrified, Draco turned around and shouted, startled, for he was suddenly face to face with a beast, finally understanding what his mother had meant.

The massive creature was covered in thick jet black fur, had sharp horns atop his head, huge fangs hanging out of his mouth and was towering over Draco, staring into the boy's spooked eyes intently with his own deep emerald ones. The boy cowered and his back met the hard wood of his mother's cell. That was when he remembered what he had come here to do. Assembling all the courage he had, he managed to speak up.

'Please,' he whispered. 'My mother-'

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?' the beast yelled at Draco's face, making the blond let out a small whimper.

'Please,' he tried again, 'I mean no harm. My mother is here, please let her go.'

'She was trespassing on MY PROPERTY! SHE HAD NO RIGHT! And neither do you!'

'Don't you see she's fragile? She is going to be sick inside this freezing damp cell. Please let her go!'

The creature had the decency of looking mildly guilty. 'She's my prisoner,' he answered a little more softly. 'There's nothing you can do. Go away or I'll hold you prisoner as well.' He was turning to leave, but Draco desperately reached out and touched his arm, making the beast stop and snap his arm away sharply.

'Please, I- I... I'll stay in her place! I beg of you, let her go!' he pleaded, stepping forward.

'No, Draco, I won't let you do this!' Narcissa shouted from the other side of the door.

The other two ignored her as the beast seemed to contemplate the suggestion.

'If you stay,' he began.

'Yes, I will stay, I will do anything!'

'DO NOT INTERRUPT ME!' he roared, making Draco back away again. 'If you stay,' he said again, slowly, looking into Draco's eyes as though testing his will to interrupt once more, 'you will have to promise me to stay forever and you will do as I say. If you promise, I will set your mother free and she can go home, but she can't come back!'

Draco did not need to think it over – he knew the answer. 'You have my word.'

'NO! Draco, you can't do this! Please-'

The monster wrenched the dungeon door open, destroying the lock in the process, but not seeming to care. Narcissa, who, along with her son, had screamed in fright, stood shivering inside the cell, her eyes wide and arms around her torso. She rushed forwards and hugged the boy tightly, shaking her head in dismay. She was quickly pulled away from the embrace, however, as the beast grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her outside so fast Draco could not say a thing.

'Mother!' he yelled, running after the creature. When he reached the gates he was panting, desperation flowing through his system, allowing him to run faster than he ever had.

It was too late.

His mother could be seen in the distance, shouting for him, most likely strapped to Philippe, who galloped away into the forest.

Draco felt empty. He fell to his knees on the stone path, his body no longer able to hold him up. His mother had been taken from him and he, forced to stay as an involuntary guest in a rundown castle in the middle of nowhere, prisoner of a monster forever. If he could he would have cried, but the shock was too great for him to react, his body lifeless and numb in the chill of the night. How had this happened to him?

He was disturbed in his desolation by the thing that had caused it.

'I will escort you to your rooms,' said the beast from beside him.

Draco slowly looked up at him. 'Rooms?' I thought-'

'WOULD YOU RATHER STAY IN A DUNGEON?'

'No, of course not, I just-'

'Follow me.' There was such finality to his tone that Draco somehow roused from his numbness and stood up quickly to follow him, his black form barely noticeable in the darkened halls.

'You did not even allow me to say goodbye,' Draco whined. 'And i will never see her again.' He could not help but sniff as his eyes at last began to water, trying hard to keep the tears at bay. He would not cry in front of his capturer, he refused to seem weak.

The other, however, offered no response, leading Draco through what was to be his new home. After walking up numerous flights of stairs, across wide galleries and down winding corridors for what felt like hours, they came to a halt in front of blue double doors, faded white flowers and doves painted on their surface, giving the place a semblance of purity and innocence Draco found ironic.

'These are your chambers,' the other said, not looking at him, 'I hope you will be comfortable here.'

Draco held in a scoff. Yeah, right...

'Inside you shall find everything you need. Anything else you can ask from the servants. You may come and go as you please inside de castle grounds, but you are strictly forbidden from going to the west wing-'

'What's in the west wing?' Draco's curiosity was picked.

'It's forbidden. That's all you have to know. AND DO NOT INTERRUPT ME AGAIN!'

'Sorry,' said Draco, miffed.

'You are also to dine with me in an hour,' he said, opening the doors and lightly shoving Draco inside. 'THAT'S AND ORDER!'

With that he turned and left, banging the doors closed while Draco stood in the middle of his room wondering what exactly the universe had against him.

TBC

*So! They finally meet. Not a very happy accasion, though. :D

As I said before, I am trying to follow the Disney film storyline, so you will find several lines that are the same - word by word - as the film, though I adapted them a bit most of the time.

More characters next chapter! Yay!

I have some tests and papers to write for university, but in less than two weeks my term will be finished, so expect an update around then.

Thank you for the awesome reviews and stay tuned! :3*