Recommended: Read on ½. Dark is optional.
Letting Go – Chapter 9
By yukiandzero
There was not a dry eye in sight. He felt her tears soaking through his robes as Harry held Ginny to his side. Stroking her hair, he contemplated leaving the common room to go back down the the grounds where Dumbledore's funeral had just ended to find Ron, but thought better of it. Ginny needed him right now.
There was a sad air about the castle, almost as if the castle itself was mourning the passing of it's, arguably, greatest headmaster ever. Harry mourned not only for his headmaster, though. He mourned for his best friend. Without Hermione, he felt somewhat... lost. She had been there for him and Ron all the way, helping them through things they probably wouldn't have been able to do on their own.
It killed him to sit here. Killed him to not be able to go to the Malfoy Manor personally and break down the door. But he knew he could be... brash... at times. He just had to trust Malfoy, but that was easier said than done. Malfoy had been nothing more than an asshole to him and his friends, so why is he helping Hermione now? He didn't know. Ginny had suggested that he felt it was his duty, or something. Possibly to atone for his crimes?
Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to understand Malfoy's motive. Everybody told Harry that he had his mothers uncanny ability to 'see the good in others, even, sometimes especially, when they can't see it themselves.' Putting himself in Malfoys shoes, he tried to think of a motive.
Although it had been more than a week, Draco had not been called on, excluding various meetings.
The inhabitants of this house had come to learn that the Dark Lord didn't trust people, but rather accepted them. Going back here had taken it's toll on him, and he was beginning to regret it. What if he didn't become accepted? The Professor and him had discussed it rather thoroughly, and although there is always a large risk, he had felt sure of himself.
Malfoy had always felt sure of himself until this year.
He didn't like Granger. If her and that god damned Professor hadn't offered him so much, he wouldn't have felt obliged to help her now. Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have cared what happened to her.
No, that's not true. He might have cared a little, but he wouldn't have done anything about it. Some might even call him a coward. But people don't know the stuff he's been through. Living under the same roof as Voldemort himself at sixteen and not going crazy was a feat in itself.
Yet once again, Draco sat in his cold bedroom not knowing what to do. He sighed and moved to his large four poster bed. Flopping back on the bed, a very un-Malfoy thing to do, mind you, he scanned his room. His room in general was probably the size of all the Weasley bedrooms put together, but he didn't like it. As a child, he revelled in riches and everything a child could of dreamed of, but recently he discovered what he really wanted was his fathers pride.
But after what had happened to his father, the Dark Lord had turned his wrath to Malfoy. Malfoy was not stupid, simply blinded. In his want for pride, he became excited at the Dark Lord's task.
Now though, the light had dimmed and he noticed the Lord's true intent. Having his mother safe in Hogwarts meant more to him than anything, so he really did feel obliged to help Granger. This wouldn't have been something he would have done last year. Last year he would have taken his mother and hidden, not caring for anyone else. Just happy that he was alright. But for some reason, his stomach did an uncomfortable flip at the thought of just leaving Granger behind after she had promised to help him.
Momentarily shutting his eyes, Malfoy shook his head. He shouldn't brood too much, he should be concentrating on how to get Granger out of this mess.
It had been eight days exactly since he gave her the crucio curse. He had heard from various Death Eaters that she had been refusing to let them break into her mind, even in the weak state she was in. They speculated she probably wasn't as weak as she let off. That was a good sign.
Malfoy lay there in silence for minutes, possibly hours before anything interesting happened.
Interesting, meaning an annoying rat animagus pounding on his door until the Slytherin managed to straighten up his black robes and see what Wormtail had to say.
"The Dark Lord requests your presence." His cold voice sneered.
Draco gave a slight nod before apparating to his master.
As the ground appeared underneath him once more, Malfoy saw he was right in front of the Dark Lord, who was standing tall with an air of superiority about him. Draco quickly got to his knees.
"You called, my Lord?"
"Indeed." The Lord sneered. "I have another task for you."
Malfoy suddenly felt sick. The words that would've usually made him excited, now made him twist on the insides. There was an air about the room that made Malfoy believe he wasn't alone, which only increased his sick feeling. He waited patiently for the Lord to continue.
"Bellatrix!" Voldemort called sternly.
"Yes my Lord." A voice answered, before appearing out of the darkness next to his side. Bellatrix smirked. "Come with me, Draco."
Rising to his feet, Draco followed his dark Aunt out of the room. She led him through the hallways of his own house that he'd known since he was born. Draco felt off, being led around your own house like a slave was just wrong. Bellatrix stopped abruptly nearly causing Draco to run into her, but, keeping his dignity, he managed to stop in time.
In front of them was, he realised, the door to his old cellar. The cellar had been turned into a housing place for prisoners, so he knew exactly who was down there, although he had never been down there himself.
Waving her hand, Bellatrix opened the door to the cellar. She held herself in a menacing way and strutted down the stairs, Draco following after. He was nervous. After giving Granger the crucio curse, he was surprised that that was all they had set out for him on the subject of proving himself. Paling, he worried that this might be an extension of that test.
He pulled out his wand slowly and whispered 'lumos', causing the tip of his wand to glow.
With closer inspection of the large cellar, Draco noticed that the walls were beginning to wear down, judging by the flakes of cement covering the ground. He scanned around to see where Granger was, and noticed her standing in the corner, examining them both warily. He noticed the fear in her eyes, although she was trying to hide it.
When he caught her eye she managed to produce a glare, which she continued on to lBellatrix. Draco returned the glare childishly, even though he had no reason to.
"You have your wand, Draco. Use whatever means you can to get information out of the mudblood." Bellatrix growled, "You have seven days before I kill you both."
Draco glared at his Aunt, this was not what he wanted, to be stuck in a cellar with the stupid mudblood until the plan could be carried out.
The dark witch ignored him and strode up the stairs, locking the door behind her. Malfoy wasn't stupid, there was no way to get out of this cellar, with or without his wand. He just had to wait.
"So-"
"You lying, deceitful bastard!" Hermione cried, cutting him off. She had been kept in the cellar for seven long days, with visits from Death Eaters more than daily to torture her into giving information and she never let out, but it took Malfoy one little threat and he went running back to the Dark Lord immediately.
"Granger," Malfoy began, but then stopped. Malfoy's don't need to explain themselves. The Slytherin scowled at her and went to sit down in a corner, the other side of the room as Granger.
"Well? Aren't you going to torture me again?" Hermione was annoyed, although she saw it coming. Every time the cellar door opens, her stomach does a painful flip, but this time, when she saw Malfoy, it was anger that filled her.
"Why would I torture you?" Malfoy said, causing Hermione to furrow her brow.
"Why wouldn't you? How else do you expect to get information out of me?"
"I don't expect to. I also don't want to be stuck in this room with you any longer, so shut it, mudblood."
"But you'll die." Hermione was confused, she'd expected Malfoy to do whatever it took to save his own arse.
"So you think I would be able to get something out of you?"
"W-well, no, but-"
"Exactly."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, then huffed indignantly. She was curious about many things, but she figured he wouldn't answer her either way, and she didn't want to waste her breath on a lost cause.
After a couple of minutes, a large plate appeared in the middle of the cellar with a crack, which Hermione went over towards hurriedly. She had only been fed three times in the last week, and the usually small plates had stale foods and a small goblet filled less than halfway with water. But when she saw this plate, her jaw dropped.
On the plate was two cooked sausages, warm crispy potatoes covered in gravy, steamed vegetables mixed in a creamy coloured sauce and two goblets. One of water and the other of hot tea.
Hermione's hand shot out to grab the goblet of water, she had barely had anything to drink since she was taken.
"Ouch!" She cried, pulling her hand back to examine. Her finger tips had turned red, bleeding a little. She looked at the food in horror. There was some sort of ward surrounding it.
Malfoy walked slowly over to the dish to join her and knelt down beside it, reaching his hand out to the goblet also.
"Don't-" Hermione began to warn desperately, but stopped when she saw Malfoy's hand clasp the goblet.
"W-what?" Tears began to form in her eyes. They were just teasing her, letting Malfoy have the food but keeping her starving. She knew the feast was too good to be true.
Malfoy smirked at her and took large, slow gulps of the water to tease her. Hermione was fully prepared to hit him, the cruel bastard, teasing her like that.
Glaring at him she clenched her fists, then opened her mouth when she saw Malfoy holding the goblet out to her.
"Here." He said. Hermione glared. He was still teasing her, knowing full well she couldn't touch it. Shutting her eyes, she tried to blink away her tears when she felt a hand around her fist, trying to coax it open.
"W-what?" Hermione stuttered.
"Hold out your hands. There's no ward around the water or food, just the goblet and plate."
Stunned, Hermione held out her hands together tightly, making sure not to lose a single drop of water. Draco slowly poured it in, until her hands were full.
It was cool over her hands, and she brought it up to her lips gratefully. The pair continued like this, Draco actually sharing the food generously, knowing full well he had eaten a lot more than Granger had lately and she needed it more than him.
Hermione had not expected that, she had expected to get the lesser half of the food, or none at all. She immediately felt bad for doubting him like that.
Going back to her corner, she lay down on her side to try and get some sleep. It was uncomfortable, and there was something round digging into her leg painfully. Rising, she tried to remove the burden, only to see that there was nothing underneath her.
She patted down her pants, and realised there was something in her pocket. But that can't be right, the Death Eaters took everything she was carrying off her.
Sticking a hand into the pocket of question, she felt nothing but the bottom. Then as she pressed a little harder, the bottom disappeared. That's right! She had an Undetectable Extension Charm on her pocket so she could carry more stuff. Reaching her arm further into the pocket, her fingers clasped around something cold. Something smooth.
The Gryffindor pulled it out quickly, and her eyes widened.
Felix Felicis.
A/N: Sorry for not updating in about a week, I lost inspiration. I was going to make this an extra long chapter to make it up but I got lazy lol. It's longer than usual, but only because of extra detail, not extra scenes. Sorryy.
P.S: Please review (:
