Yes… I am fully aware that this is 24 hours later than promised, but my lovely proofreader took his sweet, sweet time playing World of Warcraft, and who am I to begrudge him of his one true passion? However, this is about 4700 words long, as opposed to my average of 3500 words per chapter.
Draco had woken up on this day feeling a very strong sense of foreboding and he wasn't all too certain as to why. The feeling haunted him all day long even as he traveled downstairs to the cellar where Ollivander and Lovegood were still being held captive. He tried desperately to ignore the feeling as he placed two small meals on the floor in front of them with an apologetic look on his face.
"Are you feeling quite alright, Draco?" Lovegood asked as she intercepted her plate. She inspected the contents, finding half a steak and some cold roasted vegetables with a burnt bun on the side. Ollivander s received an identical meal.
"No. I have a bad feeling something is going to take place today."
"Begging your pardon, Draco but could you tell me what today's date is?" She asked. Draco shrugged, honestly having lost track of the days during the time back from Hogwarts for the Easter holidays.
"Easter is supposed to take place in a few more days, I think." Draco replied, his gaze raking over both their forms to ensure they were both still quite intact and pain-free. Lovegood, having grown accustomed to his presence and trusting him, recognised this and chose to assure him verbally. Perhaps that was why she had come to calling him by his first name rather than his surname, even though he still referred to her by 'Lovegood'.
"We're fine. They haven't touched us in weeks." Lovegood said in a soft voice, tearing her bun into smaller pieces. She plopped one in her mouth, relishing the fact that it was still warm from the oven. But Draco's curiosity had been piqued when he saw that Ollivander had not stirred from where he lay and frantic, he crouched down beside the old wizard.
"What's wrong with him?" Draco asked the girl and she shook her head.
"He's been asleep since last night but he moved quite a lot. It was only in the last few hours that he stopped moving."
Frowning, Draco placed a hand on Ollivander's wrist, only to find that the wizard's skin was hot and clammy with sweat.
"He's burning up," Draco reported. "He's got a fever. He needs potions."
He leaned in and unsuccessfully tried to wake the wizard up with a gentle shake. The old man was too out of it to respond. "Oi, Ollivander. I promised you that you would survive this war, and goddamn it, will I keep it. DO NOT die on me today!"
Finding a filthy scrap of fabric laying nearby he dunked it into one of the goblets, drenching it with cool water. He wrung it out slightly, retaining as much of the water as he could without soaking the old wizard. He hastily pushed the wizard onto his back and draped the dripping strip of fabric over his forehead. He turned to the Lovegood girl who was wearing a grim expression. "Wipe that grim look off your face! Come and keep this damp, and attend to him whilst I get some potions, I'll be right back."
Draco pushed himself off of the stone floor and hurried out, heading for the potion storerooms on the ground floor. The sense of foreboding only grew and he wondered if it had to do with Ollivander's current state. He had almost reached the stores when his father chose that moment to stop him on his path and invite him to the drawing room. Having no choice but to oblige he followed his father down the hallway.
It was when he stepped foot into the room that the feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified. He wasn't why but it had now rattled his nerves and he found it increasingly hard to close the distance between the door and the empty armchair next to his father in front of the fireplace.
He gripped the arms as he sat down, his knuckles turning white as the nausea began to overwhelm him. He needed to get out of here and find the potions. Ollivander needed his help!
"Draco, you look ill." His mother pointed out and he could only nod. "Perhaps you should head on up to bed. I'll send an elf up t-"
The wards began to vibrate and Narcissa's head whipped to face the doorway from whence they came. "Wait here." She told her son and husband and made her way out to greet the visitors.
A few minutes passed with Draco and Lucius sitting in the drawing room, silent and unsure.
"You know me!" Someone roared with resentment. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"
Draco's entire universe crashed at his feet as he realised one outcome from Potter's capture.
The war was over. The Dark Lord would win. Life from this point on was pointless.
He heard a noise that indicated a struggle and his grip on the armrests tightened further as they crashed into the room. He watched as his father rose from the seat beside him and stride over to the others and he willed himself from looking over to where they were. He may have been forced to play his part in the ending of the world, but he didn't have to watch its final moments.
"What is this?" His father drawled and Draco wished at that moment that some gracious entity out there would make him deaf right at this moment. He shut his eyes and tried to take solace in the temporary darkness it provided.
"They say they've got Potter." His mother said coldly. The sound of his mother's chilly voice made the hair on his arms stand on end.
"Draco, come here." He snapped his eyes open as he heard his name being called out. Draco silently swore and forced himself to rise from the chair, every fibre in his being screaming at his feet to run, run far away and never come back.
He turned.
And felt the wind being knocked out of him at the sight standing underneath the crystal chandelier.
There, standing smack dab right in the middle was Hermione Granger, restrained against her will by two Snatchers, her eyes wet with pleading tears. A lump formed in his throat as he took in her dishevelled form.
No… no no nononono NO! Merlin, no!
"Well, boy?" Greyback rasped, poking Potter in the back closer to him and he had to force himself to look away from Hermione. His eyes clapped on the ugly lump next to her but he could not deny what little resemblance the shorter, grotesque-looking male had to the One-Who-Lived. The glasses only cemented the fact that the lump was indeed Harry Potter.
His mother frowned at Draco's hesitance to identify the prisoners, hoping that now was not the moment where he defected. It would be abhorrently the worst timing possible.
"Well, Draco?" His father asked. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
He turned his attention to his father, desperately willing himself to not look at Hermione lest he ruined what cover he had over his feelings for her. He didn't trust himself to be able to contain the emotions that raged in his mind, almost blinding him with fear. The sound of blood rushed in his hears and his heart was going a mile a minute.
"I can't - I can't be sure." he forced past the frog-sized lump in his throat and his father urged him closer. He swallowed thickly.
"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-" His father was cut off during his excited rant by Greyback.
"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr Malfoy?"
"Of course not, of course not!" His father said impatiently and diminished the distance between himself and Potter in order to observe better. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state?"
"That wasn't us." Greyback defended.
"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," his father said, leaning in to take a much closer look and Draco's stomach churned with nausea. "There's something there, it could be the scar, stretched tight. Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
Not seeing much of a choice here, he forced himself to step closer to the prisoners and took his place next to his father, as far away from Hermione as possible. Taking his father's lead he peered closer into Potter's swollen face.
Lie, his mind told him, and lie he did. It was with a very weak inkling of courage that he said, "I don't know." He made his way back to the fireplace where his mother stood watching the exchange. She narrowed her eyes at him almost imperceptibly, which he returned by pressing his lips into a tight line.
"We had better be certain, Lucius. Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord." She inspected a wand in her hands. "They say this is his but it does not resemble Ollivander's description… If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"
"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback growled and Draco stiffened where he stood. Narcissa noticed the change in posture and watched his expression change. She had never seen her son look as horrified as he did now. She turned her attention as the Granger girl was brought into the limelight and she felt rather than heard the sharp intake of breath that Draco had taken. Her gaze darted from the prisoner to Draco and discovered that his eyes had now grown glassy.
She clasped a hand around Draco's wrist and gave him what she hoped was a gentle but reassuring squeeze. She had no choice, she recognised the Granger girl. Even though she held her son's heart in her delicate hands, her family would be killed without a second chance if she let Potter go.
"Wait." Narcissa said sharply, hating the way her voice sounded. Draco would forever loathe his mother from this moment on and she braced herself. She ground out, "Yes - yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
Draco's eyes shined with betrayal towards his mother and she almost recoiled.
Sounding small, he bit out, "I… maybe… yeah."
"But then, that's the Weasley boy! It's them, Potter's friends - Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-?" His father interjected.
Stop it. Just stop this! He prayed, feeling right on the verge of breaking down. This room suddenly felt too small and he wanted to escape. For the first time ever since he was a little boy, he felt extremely claustrophobic.
"Yeah, it could be…" He said numbly. He stared at Hermione once more before another, all-too-familiar and unwanted, person spoke from the door behind the prisoners.
"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" His Aunt walked around the gaggle of prisoners and observed each one before stopping right in front of Hermione. Icy cold fear gripped Draco's heart as he reflexively started forward to protect her. His mother tugged forcefully on his wrist and he turned to protest. He was immediately silenced by his mother's sharp gaze. "But surely, this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"
"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" His father cried almost with excitement. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"
"Potter? Are you sure? Well, then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" Bellatrix dragged back the left sleeve of her robes to reveal the Dark Mark and Draco knew what was bound to happen. He closed his eyes as he fought to ignore his surroundings. He couldn't bear to look at her. She was watching him, watching how his face contorted in terror. He blanked out the next few moments until his Aunt shrieked "STOP! Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"
Wrenching his eyes open, he saw that Bellatrix had moved to stand in front of a Snatcher. "What is that?
"Sword." came a grunt.
"Give it to me." Bellatrix ordered. A few grunts came as a reply and apparently it did not appease Bellatrix for she had let loose a series of Stunning spells and in no time all of the Snatchers had dropped like flies except for Greyback. Bellatrix stood over him, a long sword held tightly in her hand. She whispered into the werewolf's ear.
"How dare you? Release me, woman!"
"Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"
"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"
There was some movement before Draco heard his name being addressed once more. He spared a look Hermione's way and their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
"Move this scum outside." she nudged one of the unconscious Snatchers with her foot. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."
"Don't you dare speak to Draco like-" His mother shouted indignantly.
"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem! If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself… but if he finds out… I must… I must know…"
Bellatrix faced her sister again. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"
"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my-"
"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!"
Narcissa considered this for a moment and then addressed the werewolf who had taken to sulking behind an armchair. "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."
"Wait." Bellatrix said sharply, and Draco could see the cogs turn in the witch's dark mind as she examined the situation at hand. "All except… except for the Mudblood."
No! Draco shouted but no sound came out of his mouth and he panicked, looking to his mother to find her watching him and he mentally let out a string of expletives for the damn woman had silenced him!
"No!" Weasley echoed Draco's mental struggle and he sounded wretched, which only weakened Draco with the blow of emotion. From what he could tell, the youngest Weasley son too loved Hermione and was all too willing to sacrifice himself. "You can have me, keep me!"
Weasley stood firmly as Bellatrix delivered a blow across his face.
"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next." Bellatrix said menacingly. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them - yet."
Bellatrix returned Greyback's wand to its rightful owner and brandished a silver dagger which Draco recognised as one of her deadliest weapons, second only to her wand. She cut Hermione loose from the gaggle and dragged her by her hair to the centre of the room, and he could hear her whimper at the pain while Greyback forced the rest of the prisoners out of the drawing room.
Bellatrix had forced Hermione down onto the ground and straddled her thighs. She sliced a sleeve open with a slash, digging through the skin. Hermione screamed, a long and terrible wail of pain as the blood seeped out.
"Where did you get the sword?" Bellatrix demanded and Hermione shook her head, sobbing uncontrollably as she tried to overcome the pain.
Draco was biting down hard on his bottom lip as he was forced to watch the torture. His eyes stung as tears blurred his vision. It had escaped his notice that his mother had him glued to the ground.
"I- I don't know!" Hermione cried as Bellatrix pressed a thumb into the gash.
"HERMIONE!" The Weasley was repeating her name from downstairs, voicing Draco's own silent protests. He barely noticed that he had drawn blood from his bottom lip. "HERMIONE!"
Bellatrix ripped the rest of the sleeve from the shoulder of the robes and pulled down the neckline to reveal an expanse of unmarked skin. Bellatrix sneered, nuzzling her nose against the spot where her shoulder met her neck, drawing out another blood curdling scream. When Bellatrix pulled away Draco eyed teeth marks, thick red fluid oozing out from the punctures.
Draco struggled against the bindings, screaming himself hoarse despite knowing it was no use. Weasley seemed to echo his sentiments, continuing to shout Hermione's name.
"I'm going to ask you again!" She pressed against the bite wound with the tip of the blade. "Where did you get this sword? WHERE?"
Hermione shook her head and Bellatrix ran the knife over the cut, making it deeper than before. Another scream then Hermione sobbed, "We found it, we found it- PLEASE!"
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" Bellatrix snarled, digging her teeth through the exposed skin on her upper arm, eliciting another horrible scream. Draco felt sick but he had long since abandoned his useless struggle against his mother's curse.
"HERMIONE!"
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"
Hermione was shaking where she lay, sobbing as she shook her head frantically. She turned her head to gaze at Draco imploringly, weakly sweeping her bare arm across the carpet and reaching out towards him. She mouthed "help" and his tears began to fall in fat droplets as he tried to reach out for her. The mad witch latched onto her arm and clamped her teeth over her exposed shoulder. She spat out immediately as if she had tasted something particularly vile, staining the part of Hermione's hair and the carpet with diluted blood. With the sharp instrument she began scratching through the flesh and Draco could hear Hermione grinding her teeth together, no doubt the only thing keeping a scream from escaping her lips.
His Aunt had written Mudblood on her arm.
Bellatrix pushed herself off of Hermione's form, purposefully bracing herself on the scrawl on Hermione's arm which elicited another wail. Hermione writhed on the carpet, trying to roll onto her stomach and crawl away and Bellatrix stood over her, digging the tip of the sword into the back of Hermione's leg, effectively halting her progress.
Draco looked away, unable to watch any longer and he found his mother gazing at him, silent tears making their way down her fine cheeks and he knew that she knew. Did his father know? He chanced a look at his paternal figure and was unable to identify the expression he wore.
Hermione whimpered as Bellatrix shoved her over onto her back with her boot. She whipped out her wand and pointed it straight at Hermione's chest.
HERMIONE! Draco screamed and his mother abruptly stepped in front of him, pushing his head down so that he was forced to stare at his shoelaces. Something wet splashed onto the polished Italian leather and he realised they were his own tears.
"What else did you take? What else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
The scream that followed had Draco almost doubling over in pain, as if he could feel the effect of the curse. Lucius looked on with disgust, ashamed of his only son and the sole Malfoy heir. Draco could not handle torture, especially towards filthy lowlife scum.
Short minutes passed before Bellatrix ceased the Unforgivable. "How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault… it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" She begged.
"A copy? Oh, a likely story!"
"But we can find out easily." His father piped up. 'Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
Draco felt his mother undo the binding spell and he staggered before straightening himself. He drew himself away and out of the room. His legs felt leaden and he struggled to put one foot in front of the other. He scrubbed at his eyes with the hem of his sleeves and attempted to collect his thoughts as he stumbled through the hallways and down the stairs into the cellar. He stopped at the heavy door, his breath coming out quickly and heavily. "Stand back. Line up against the back wall… Don't try anything or I'll kill you!"
The door flew open and he marched in, took hold of Griphook's arm and dragged the goblin out, slamming shut the heavy door in his stead. He slackened his hold on the goblin's limb and urged him onward to the drawing room.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Hermione scream again and he bit his tongue in order to refrain from running into the room and cursing his Aunt. This was the moment where he had the epiphany that he was capable of killing his Aunt with the Unforgivable curse. The hatred that raged through his veins was proof enough of that.
"Tell them it's a fake. Please," Draco begged of the goblin. "Please."
The goblin narrowed its sharp eyes at Draco, lips pulled into a sneer. Then the goblin lead the rest of the way, impatient. The goblin did not need his guidance for he had followed the noise down the hallway. He pushed the door and left it open wide enough for Draco to slip through.
There Bellatrix accosted the goblin with the sword in her hands, shoving the sword at the goblin rudely with a look of expectation. Her hair crackled with manic fury.
A sharp noise emitted from the floor under their feet and they all shared the same look. "What was that?" Lucius shouted. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"
Draco inhaled deeply though his nose as his father demanded, "Draco - no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
No one needed to call for Wormtail as he had chosen that precise moment to announce his presence and then he disappeared out of sight.
Draco could see that his Aunt was at the end of her tether but he didn't particularly care, as his sights were focused on Hermione's limp form behind Bellatrix, and his heart began hammering against his ribcage, the memory of his nightmare flashing before his eyes. He pushed past his Aunt, keeping his eyes trained on Hermione and searching for a sign of life.
"What is it, Wormtail?" Lucius called out and a wheezy voice reported all was fine downstairs.
"Tell me, filthy goblin! Is it the real sword?"
Draco heard an inhuman growl coming from the goblin and he saw that the half-breed sported a rather nasty gash on his swarthy face caused by Bellatrix's wand. He returned to Hermione, and found her hand twitching.
"Well? Is it the true sword?"
There was a deafening pause as Draco prayed with all his might that the goblin would lie for Hermione's sake.
"No." said the goblin. "It is a fake."
Draco let out the breath he had not realised he had been holding, his heart sure to beat a hole through his chest.
Bellatrix panted. "Are you sure? Quite sure?"
"Yes." The goblin snarled and Bellatrix sagged in relief.
"Good." She said and with another flick of her wand she created another gash on the goblin's face, this one causing more harm than previously. The goblin dropped to his feet with a yell, cupping the side of his face. Then Bellatrix kicked him to the side, drawing up her sleeve. "And now, we call the Dark Lord!"
She touched the Dark Mark, a wild grin blossoming from one ear to the other as she waited for her master.
"And I think," Bellatrix said coldly, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."
Draco lunged in the general direction of the werewolf as someone screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!". In that split second he saw a flash of bright red burst into the room, followed by a dark shadow.
Draco wheeled about as Weasley shouted "Expelliarmus!", disarming Bellatrix of her wand. Potter caught it and used it to Stun his father, who collapsed into a heap without warning. Draco pointed his wand and blindly shooting a fiery jet where he assumed his Aunt would be, having seen her drag Hermione's body out of the foray just seconds ago.
"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix screeched, supporting Hermione with her dagger pressed against the base of her throat, more than a meter away from where Draco had aimed the spell. Hermione's head lolled to the side dangerously. Bellatrix whispered. "Drop your wands. Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"
Potter and Weasely made no indication of following her order. Bellatrix pressed the blade deeper and beads of vivid scarlet trickled down. The blood in Draco's own face drained. "I said, drop them!"
"All right!" Potter roared, dropping Bellatrix's wand and the redhead followed suit. Both then raised their hands in surrender.
"Good! Draco, pick them up!" She barked and he fearfully hurried to collect the wands, somewhat glad she had not notice his attack on her. " The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"
Draco returned to his position beside his mother, hearing Bellatrix say. "Now, Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."
Draco's lips curled back in an inaudible snarl, and Bellatrix was interrupted by a grinding above her head. He looked up to see the chandelier wobble slightly and without warning it began to fall right where Bellatrix stood supporting Hermione's weight. Bellatrix screamed, dropping Hermione and diving out of the way. The chandelier crashed to the floor, pinning Hermione and the goblin with shattered crystals and chains. Draco covered his face in time to protect his eyes from being pierced by the flying shards but the rest of him was defenceless and he felt the pain of a thousand knives digging into his flesh. He dropped to his knees, gasping.
He couldn't tell whether the shards were still flying but he was terrified of pulling his hands down. If the crystals had embedded themselves into his flesh, he couldn't imagine what state Hermione would be in, having been directly under the decorative fixture when disaster struck.
The wands were yanked out of his grip and right afterwards he was being dragged away from the scene and he tore his hands from his face, blinking as he observed Weasely pulling Hermione out from under the heavy round frame. She was bleeding profusely, he saw, and bits of glass glittered before being drowned in red.
Red. There was too much red. When would it end? He was sick of seeing it. Literally sick, it turned out, as acidic bile filled his mouth. He forced it back down, coughing at the burn it created.
Greyback flew to the ground with a sickening crunch from an apparent triple Stunning spell as Bellatrix sprang to her feet.
"Dobby!" His mother shrieked and Draco swivelled his head to meet his former house elf standing in the entrance. "You! You dropped the chandelier?"
"You must not hurt Harry Potter." He squeaked and Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with rage toward the house-elf for it had directly harmed Hermione Granger, despite the fact that she had put the wretched creatures up high on a pedestal ever since their fourth year.
"Kill him, Cissy!" Bellatrix screamed and there was a loud crack. Draco watched with full interest as his mother's wand flew through the air to the other side of the room. "You dirty little monkey! How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"
"Dobby has no master!" the elf squealed. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"
The next few seconds passed in a flash and the next thing Draco knew, they were gone with a loud crack. Draco searched the spot where Hermione had been last, freaking out at the sight of red against beige.
The last thought that ran through his mind was "No more, no more red. Too much. Stop it!" as the shock and pain overtook him and he sank into unconsciousness. He could only see red behind his eyelids.
Review?
I had an anonymous reviewer say and I quote "Well thanks for the relentless soul stomping..." which made me laugh for a good few minutes as it was a perfectly apt way of describing my writing. I am a pathetic sucker for heartache. Does that make me a masochist? Or sadist? Hmm... Anyways, please don't kill me for this chapter. It had to be done. The Deathly Hallows failed to explore Draco as a character and I believe that witnessing Hermione's torture, both canon and in this fiction, would have been a truly defining moment in Draco's life and helped shape who he became as he got older.
Nudge, nudge - review please!