9
Draco walked towards Hogsmeade trying his best not to think about what was about to happen. His limbs felt heavy but he urged himself onwards. He thought of Professor Snape's warning whenever the urge to flee nearly overwhelmed him. Do not stray, Draco. Snape wouldn't say that to him if making it to the Leaky Cauldron wasn't detrimental. Ties between his family and the dark wizard residing in the manor were strained. His father's negligence in dealing with Potter and his recent captivity in Azkaban had placed them on unstable ground. He didn't want to make things any more difficult than they already were for his mother.
The streets were essentially deserted. No one really stayed out late anymore, not since the spread of the rumours regarding the strange happenings in the muggle world reached wizarding ears. His eyes landed on the distasteful pig that marked The Hog's Head sign. He'd never set foot in the seedy building before. He never had any reason to and was under the impression that the clientele were the sort that hung around the dank alleyways in Diagon Alley. His hand gripped the warped metal handle anxiously. He took two deep breaths before pulling the door open.
"Ahh!" Draco heard his aunt call out. "My dear nephew." She rose from the small table she was seated at to greet him. "Well, come in."
Draco's eyes squinted through the dim lighting. Everything looked murky and unsanitary, he worried he may end up stepping in something that would turn his stomach. Stiffly, he walked towards his aunt who gazed at him with amusement stretching her lips. She couldn't deny that her nephew's discomfort for their surroundings tickled her. She was used to filth. Her sister, on the other hand, had become too acquainted with opulence and her son was no exception.
"Drink?" Bellatrix picked up the mangy glass from the table and offered it to her nephew.
"No." he replied stoically. There was no way he was drinking anything from this place. Besides, it wouldn't do him any good to be inebriated during whatever it was his aunt was planning. He let his eyes drift to the figure seated beside Bellatrix and felt the blood drain from his face as soon as his eyes rested on the beady ice-blue eyes of Fenrir Greyback. He hated being in the company of the werewolf. Draco always suspected that, given the chance, the beast would love nothing more than to sink his teeth into the pureblood's flesh. Greyback had never bitten anyone from the elite line of wizards, but had expressed his opinions in regards to the flesh of blood traitors, claiming they tasted a lot sweeter than the average wizard.
"Won't you sit down, Draco? Right by me," the wolf grinned with pointed teeth.
"I'd prefer to stand," the blond responded while staring disgustedly at the table, trying to pass off his reluctance to be near the wolf on the grimy environment of the establishment.
"We're going to go have a little chat with someone from the ministry," his aunt told him, plopping back down on the stool. "Make yourself comfortable, Draco. We still have some time to wait."
….
They landed in an empty courtyard surrounded by quaint, red brick houses. Draco took in three gulping breaths of air trying his best not to throw up. He absolutely abhorred Apparating with his aunt. Her manic energy affected the magical transportation and caused it to be far more disorienting than it needed to be.
"Isn't this lovely," Bellatrix cackled in glee, "It's almost like a family outing, hm Draco?" she purred, casting a mischievous glance at her nephew beside her.
The boy straightened immediately and tried to assume an expression of nonchalance. He learned over the summer that it was best to outwardly agree with anything that his aunt said, especially when doing the Dark Lord's work. "Yes, of course, Aunt Bella," he said mechanically.
Flinging her mass of black spirals over her shoulder, Bellatrix took the lead in purpose-driven strides. Draco found that he had to quicken his pace to keep up with her and chanced a look at Greyback to see if he was doing the same. If the wolf was struggling with the pace, he didn't show it. His eyes were set on the house in front of them with bushels of yellow carnations decorating the pathway. Draco felt a sinking feeling in his stomach with every step that he took. He knew that they didn't come here to negotiate with whomever resided inside.
"Pay attention, Draco," the menacing witch instructed, stopping short before the paved walkway. She held up her wand and tapped at the air. Draco could see a slight sheen vibrate and ripple outwards from the spot that Bellatrix disrupted. "Protection wards; laughable ones." Muttering a combination of charms and twirling her wand above her head, Draco watched as a grey haze seemed to be lifted and the yellow carnations suddenly seemed a lot brighter.
Once again, his aunt's black boots began to move forward. She marched right up to the front door, which swung open immediately as if it was expecting her. There came a rouse of barking as soon as they step foot through the doorway. Bellatrix's head snapped to the right of her and she pointed her wand at the disturbance. Draco watched in fear as the burly bloodhound seemed to deteriorate before his eyes. It whined, low heart-pinching moans, as its skin began to droop to the floor. Then the noise stopped altogether and there was no longer a dog blocking their path, but a puddle of melted brown fur.
"Worthless creatures," Bellatrix hissed.
It was dark inside. Despite the noise from the dog, no shuffling seemed to disturb the home. Whoever they came to find was tucked away in their bed asleep. This unsettled Draco even more.
Bellatrix turned on her heel to face the two men under her charge. "Shall we split up? Draco with me. Greyback, you know what to look for."
Fenrir grunted in distaste but didn't retaliate. He despised being ordered around by witches. Even more than that, he hated that the woman before him could overpower him with that bewitched stick she held in her hands. He wondered how she would fair without it.
Draco kept his eyes on his aunt's back as they moved through the house. He didn't want to look around. If he looked around then he would pick up on the little details of the house, and if he was familiar with the details then it would be easier for him to reproduce this night in his dreams. The blond fiddled with the wand that lay idly in his trouser pocket as he climbed the stairs leading towards the second floor. They stopped on the top landing of the staircase and Bellatrix peered around the narrow hallway. Draco couldn't help but notice how uninspiring and ordinary the house was; beige walls, white carpet and three closed brown doors. No moving photographs, no enchanted clocks - nothing that suggested that people actually lived within the quarters.
His aunt's eyes rested on the door to the right of them. Her mouth lifted in curiousity and she flourished her wand, causing the wooden doors to fling open and bang against the wall.
"There's no one in here," Draco said as he neared the entrance of the chambers. He was somewhat relieved to find that the bedroom was empty. Inside of it was a cushy, king-sized bed draped in a silken mauve comforter that showed no sign of being slept in. The jacquard curtains were drawn and a rocking chair sat idly beside a desk with a small deposit of trinkets on top of it.
"Your eyes deceive you, nephew," Bellatrix smirked, strutting towards the bed. "What an adorable little room," she said, sarcasm drenching her words.
She flourished her wand and the sheets covering the mattress rose and collapsed against the wall to the left of her. She looked upon the mattress with a frown in her cheek. When that didn't satisfy her she directed her wand towards the wooden desk, which noisily collapsed into a pile of splinters.
"What is it we're looking for?" Draco asked, growing a bit apprehensive watching his aunt wander about the room, throwing the linens and dismantling the furniture.
"Not what…" she paused, looking intently at a small glass globe resting amidst the destruction of the desk. "Ah!" she cried out in sadistic glee. "So very, very clever, aren't we?"
"Levicorpus," she cackled, and the globe rose from the ground to hover in front of her face. It was a beautiful ornament. The gold base looked like it had been engraved with runes, and inside of the glass ball was a lush valley with a little cottage and a flurry of gold dust that covered the grass. The boy watched as his aunt's smile grew wider the more she peered into the glass. Without warning, the globe fell forcefully, smashing against the broken wood and shattering. Draco turned away abruptly, shielding his face from the shards of glass and missing the appearance of two figures tumbling out of the confines of the sphere.
"Immobulus" Bellatrix shouted, and Draco turned just in time to witness the two figures petrified in mid-air with fear still nestled in their eyes.
"Isn't this fun?!" the witch clapped, gazing upon her captives with absolute joy in her cheeks. "Come meet Alric Evans, Draco." Bellatrix motioned impatiently for the boy to rush to her side and share in her excitement.
Draco gazed at the frozen man in front of him. His brown hair was speckled with gold dust and his teeth were gritted. His pupils were the only part of him that still retained movement, and darted about the room frantically. He looked everywhere but at Draco's face, to which the boy was thankful.
"Familiar?" Bellatrix asked.
"No." Draco replied, flatly - and honestly he wasn't. He had never seen this man in his life.
"Course not. Why would you be? Dirty, mudblood bastard that he is. That didn't stop him from working at the Ministry though, and in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, no less," she spat, bringing the man closer to observe him more intently.
"You! Without an ounce of magical blood within your muddy veins for bloody centuries," she snarled. "How did you come by that wand protruding from your pocket?"
The man's eyes grew wide with pain as a searing heat overtook his chest. The young Slytherin chanced a look at the woman who floated next to him. Her mouth was slightly open as if she meant to scream and her brown tresses billowed out away from her face. What unsettled the boy was that the woman's misty brown eyes never left the face of the tortured man. He could feel the way she was desperately pleading for him to be spared. The pang of guilt in his chest began to grow into a painful thud. He wrenched his eyes away from her, no longer able to regard her face without feeling sick.
"Well!?" Bellatrix raised her voice. She slashed her wand halting the agony and giving the man back his voice.
"It's…mine," the man huffed.
"Lies! You are not a magical being. Magic does not come to you. You steal it!" she bristled and the man screamed out in pain.
"This loathsome creature is responsible for handling the paperwork of the captives that are sent to Azkaban, Draco. This thing is the final link to putting worthy witches and wizards behind the confines of that infernal prison. He is the reason your father rots in there this very moment," the witch hissed venomously. Draco shuddered at the similarity of his aunt to that blasted snake that was always twined around the dark wizard's neck.
"So we're here to get father out, then?" Draco asked, trying to distract his aunt from torturing the man floating before them.
"More or less," she replied. "That's one of many Ministry secrets we've come to collect." She directed her attention to the woman, tilting her head in observance.
"Is this your wife?" Bellatrix asked the man with mild interest.
Alric Evans didn't know whether to answer the maniacal witch's question or to stay silent. Would she spare Ava if he responded? He hated to admit that he doubted anything he said would protect his wife. Not with this witch. He was well-versed in Bellatrix's history. She had become a sort of horror story that the senior Ministry officials would tell the young interns at the department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had very little value for human life, especially when the humans were muggle-born. He knew she had a keen interest for carving words into the flesh of her victims. Alric could only imagine what words she would choose to mar his skin.
"Well!?" She asked again, growing impatient. "Who is she?"
"Does it really matter?" Alric sighed.
Draco was startled at how resigned the tone of his voice was. The man didn't even try to hide his defeat. He felt an inkling of fear start to creep up his spine towards his neck. What did this man know that Draco didn't, which would cause him to give up on his life before he even tried to beg for it? He chanced a glance at his aunt who had a sneer plastered on her face, one that seemed very familiar to him. "No," she answered. "I suppose it doesn't." And just like that she flicked her wand and the woman's flesh began to bubble. Angry red sores appeared wherever there was exposed skin. Her eyes bulged in pain while tears dampened the carpet.
Draco's grip on the hidden wand tightened tremendously. He'd seen torture, but never this closely. He was caught between putting an end to it and and fearing the horrific reprimand he would receive from his aunt Bellatrix if he interfered. "Fuck! What should I do?" the boy thought furiously. He rubbed his thumb anxiously up and down the wood. What would Snape do?
He could hear the sallow man's voice distinctly in his mind, "Don't be a fool, child."
He knew what Snape would do. He would leave Bellatrix to her antics because she was far more sadistic than she appeared, quite similar to a rabid dog. The only person she was undoubtedly loyal to was the Dark Wizard. Everyone else was tethered to her by a thread, and she wouldn't hesitate to sever those ties. But to do nothing felt just like committing the murder, and he knew that if he didn't act the guilt would destroy him. There was something eerily familiar about this woman that made his skin crawl.
Draco didn't know the countercurse, he wasn't sure how to stop the boils from angrily bubbling on the women's skin, but he did know how to grant her some reprieve from the pain. He raised the wand just enough so that it poked out of his trouser pocket and whispered the healing charm he remembered his mother using on him when he was eleven and burned his hand on his cauldron. He silently begged the foreign wand to listen to him without objection. The tension in his chest slightly eased as the strain on the woman's face began to gradually fade.
"It's me you want information from!" The man cried out breaking the silence. He was unable to stop his own tears from blurring his vision.
"Such emotion for a woman who may or may not be your wife," Bellatrix teased. She turned her attention towards the man's face. "Very well. Draco, kill her."
The man's eyes darted immediately towards the person he had paid very little attention to beforehand. He was just a boy...he probably hadn't even left Hogwarts yet. He felt ice run through his veins as he took in the platinum blond hair that swept over his brow and the sharp, pointed features of Lucius Malfoy that ghosted the boy's face. There was no mistaking the resemblance between father and son, but the Malfoy heir had something within his steely grey eyes that he had never saw within the elder Malfoy - genuine panic.
Draco tried to answer as rationally as he could, but his mouth felt so dry he didn't think the words would be able to rouse his throat and leave his lips. He had never performed the killing curse on a human, he had his mother to thank for that. She was very adamant that he would not be involved in such undertakings until he had received the mark. Miraculously, the Dark Lord had obliged. But that meant little to his aunt when they were outside of the manner. So he relied on the most rational excuse he could think of. "I...I don't have a wand."
"What do you mean you don't have a wand?" his aunt huffed in annoyance."
"It was taken from me, since I can't legally do magic."
Something seemed to click for Bellatrix then. Although she'd hate to admit it, Snape had thought ahead. True, her nephew's illegal use of magic could end up alerting Aurors about their whereabouts, but how was he ever supposed to become a loyal servant of the Dark Lord if he kept being coddled. "Shame. Well, make yourself useful then and search the rooms."
"What is it I should be looking for?" Draco asked, trying to still the quiver in his voice.
Bellatrix turned to face him directly. "Any valuable Ministry documents."
Gathering his courage, he chanced once more question in hopes that there may be a chance that he could somehow spare the lives of the Evans. "And I assume we'll still need," he motioned his head towards the couple, "in case the information is coded."
"You assume nothing!" Bellatrix snapped. "Let me worry about what happens to this lot. Now go, Draco."
With a fleeting glance towards the woman he had been told to murder, Draco turned and walked out of the room, hoping he had not made things worse. It took only seconds for the guilt to move from his chest and pool in his stomach, weighing him down. There was nothing more he could do for the woman, not unless he wanted to put his life and the life of his mother at risk. He knew he would have nightmares about this night for the next two months.
Draco mechanically walked down the hallway, trying to act as if he was searching for something while desperately pleading with some divine force to end this night for him. How many more of these would he have to endure? He placed his hand against the wall to try to catch his breath, and found that the structure echoed oddly as he leaned against it. His eyes rested on a strip of molding that seemed curiously out of place. He tapped the wand against the wall, whispering a soft Reviolio, ears perked for Greyback who was still riffling around downstairs. The walls began to shift revealing a white door. Cautiously, Draco placed his hand on the knob and eased the door open. His feet stopped as he locked eyes with a toddler, no more than a few years old, with large, brown ringlets askew. She stretched out her arms, begging the stranger to lift her out of the crib so she could find the source of the unfamiliar aura in her house.
Shite. The Slytherin cursed as he stepped over the threshold and closed the door abruptly behind him. They had a child. There was no way aunt Bellatrix would let her go. She would give her to Greyback. Draco cringed at the thought. "What do I do?" he fussed, wringing his hands. The infant began to fuss, realizing that no one was going to lift her out of the crib.
"No, no, no!" Draco whispered, rushing over to the source of the noise. "You can't cry. If you cry, they'll hear you." Bloody hell, he'd done it now. He dug into his pocket and yanked out the wand, hastily repairing the silencing charm. He needed to disguise the room. Yes, that was a good idea. Transform the decor so it looked less like a nursery and more like a...spare room.
Draco tried to quiet his mind and channel his energy into feeling the magic flowing within him so that the borrowed wand would obey his requests. He went about transfiguring furniture; shifting the changing table into a nightstand, and removing the baby duck decals from the walls. He turned to the little girl, whose eyes had dried while watching him rush about like a loon.
"Ok, right. So, I just can't pick you up and carry you out of here." He didn't trust himself when it came to altering humans, especially not with this wand. The girl just cooed, sucking on the bib that hung around her neck. "A little help would be nice, you know," Draco sighed. He could disillusion her. It may be seventh-year magic, but he saw Snape do it. How hard could it be? "Please, cooperate," he pleaded with the wand in his grip. Draco tapped the magical implement on top of the toddler's curls and whispered the incantation, but nothing happened.
"Well...you can't expect to get everything your first time," he reassured himself. He focused on the magic stirring inside of him and concentrated on disguising the little girl before him. Once again he tapped her head and said the charm.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of hope.
"I don't have time for this!" he hissed in aggravation. He strained his ears to listen for any sign of heavy footsteps traipsing up the stairs. He knew that at any moment, Greyback would tire of wandering about the lower level of the house and seek out his aunt.
"Salazar! What am I going to do with you!?" Draco pleaded with the infant. She was just a baby. If he let Greyback get ahold of her, he'd never forgive himself - he might as well have a soul as black as the Dark Wizard that resided in his house. He couldn't stand here waving his wand about and hoping that eventually the disillusionment charm would take effect. He dug around in his pockets for something, anything that may give him some sort of idea of what to do. His hand rested on a vile. "Sleeping drought," whispered Draco. Ever since he acquired some of the dreamless potion from Snape, he never left the Slytherin common room without it.
"So...I can put her to sleep." Put her to sleep and then do what? He fiddled with the vile in his hands as a pudgy hand reached towards him and pulled on the arm of his shirt. He had to admit, she was cute...as cute as a kneazle was when it was still just a kit. Eventually she'd grow up to be something loathsome, but right now he could tolerate her. There would be no way to get her out of this house now, he would just have to come back for her. He uncorked the vial and poured a drop of the liquid on his finger. Any more than that and he feared it would do much more damage than good to the infant.
"Well…" he stared at the baby, "I'd rather not have to put my finger in your mouth." Draco peered around the room, cursing himself for not finding the potion in his pocket before he transfigured all of the nursery furniture. His eye rested on a pacifier nested precariously on top of a rocking chair that he left alone. Without any delay, he rushed over to the chair and grabbed the pacifier and rubbed the drop of sleeping drought onto the tip. He rushed over to the crib and offered the teething toy to the infant. She extended a pudgy hand towards it and quickly shoved it in her mouth. In an instant her eyelids began to droop. Not wanting her to fall, Draco carefully lifted her as if she were a porcelain doll, and laid her down on the plush blanket she had been standing on.
"That's done…" he sighed in relief. The only thing he trusted himself to do would be to leave the room and conceal the door more convincingly than the infant's parents had. He took a moment to take in the sleeping form of the toddler. Staring at her stirred something inside of his chest, an unfamiliar sense of duty and protection. He had never been quite partial to children, but there was something about this little muggle-born that affected him. With a newfound confidence, he strode out of the room and waved his wand in front of the door, recanting enchantments that he had learned from Professor Snape in secret. He watched intently as the door disappeared completely, as if it had never existed at all. When he rapped his knuckles on the material, everything sounded solid, not at all like it had been tampered with. He hurriedly rushed to open up one of the brown doors and found himself within, what he believed, was Alric's study.
Draco made quick work of flinging books from the large oaken shelves, and tossing weighty files about the room to make it appear as if he had been looking for something quite useful. His eyebrow quirked in surprise when he caught the glimpse of an official looking document scattered amongst a disturbed pile of notes.
"That looks like the Ministry's seal," he muttered. Lifting the paper, he inspected it further. The parchment was densely filled with writing covered in Ministry legal jargon that Draco had very little patience to try and decipher. Near the bottom third of the page his eyes fell upon his father's name:
Lucius Abraxas Malfoy - 537. Quadron 5. Cell 68.
"Brilliant!" Draco exclaimed. He had accidentally stumbled upon where his father was located in Azkaban. This is what they came for, wasn't it? If he brought this to his aunt's attention, they could leave. Hopefully, before anything detrimental could be done to the Evans family.
If Draco was being completely honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure he wanted his father back at Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy was the reason Draco was in this position in the first place. His previous fervor to be part of the new world order that the Dark Wizard was trying to instill, placed Draco and his mother in a situation that left them very little choice. However, he did see the benefit of having someone to watch over his mother, even if that someone was slightly deranged.
"And what are you so thrilled about?"
The throaty growl caused a painful shiver to run up Draco's spine. He turned abruptly and found Greyback staring at him with a devilish glint in his eyes.
"I've found where father is located," he told the wolf, straightening his posture to cover his fear.
"Have yuh, now?" Greyback sneered. "Plan to break daddy out all by your lonesome?"
"Isn't this what we came here for?" Draco answered impatiently. His reply summoned a throaty cackle from the wolf before him.
"That's what yuh thought? Like the Dark Lord gives a bloody damn about yer father."
The boy didn't know whether the wolf was toying with him, as he so often loved to do, or if he was actually speaking the truth. "And what would you know of the Dark Lord's dealings? Don't you spend most of your days wandering about the woods?" He knew that Greyback wasn't allowed to sit in on the meetings of the Death Eaters, even though he did much of their dirty work. He'd also been refused a wand numerous times. He wasn't sure if it was wise to pick at the sore, especially when no one else was around, but he knew better than to allow Greyback to see his trepidation.
The wolf snarled, baring a mouth of sharp, yellowed fangs. "Think yer better than me, do yuh?"
"I don't think aunt Bellatrix would appreciate me making her wait," Draco stated, changing the subject. The last thing he wanted was an altercation with the beast before him.
That was enough to cause Greyback to collect himself. As much as he detested the spurn he got from wizards, especially the greasy brat standing in front of him, he didn't like dealing with Bellatrix's rage. Not when the footing was unequal. "After you," he hissed, allowing the Malfoy heir to pass.
Trying his best to appear unaffected, Draco made a point of sticking out his chin as he passed precariously close to the Greyback to exit the study and make his way back to the master bedroom. He was steps away from the room when he failed to hear Greyback's boots behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to find the wolf with his nose in the air, precariously close to the concealed door. Draco tried to prevent his pulse form racing. "What is it?"
"Somethin' don't smell quite right," Greyback answered, taking another deep whiff.
"And?" Draco asked with forced impatience.
"Yuh checked all of the rooms?" Greyback asked, his nose leading him a little closer towards the hidden nursery.
Draco stamped his right foot trying, perhaps, to kick up some dust and disturb the scent the wolf was tracing. "All of the doors that mattered. Now let's go, or would you like me to be the one to tell aunt Bellatrix that you've come back empty-handed."
At this comment, Greyback snapped out of his daze. "Empty-handed!?" He hated to be undermined, especially when it came to his work. "I have a lot more to share than yuh, bloody wizard," the wolf grumbled making a point of passing Draco and pushing through the doors ahead of him.
"Thank Salazar," Malfoy muttered. "Aunt Bella," he called out, but soon found his feet frozen. Ahead of him was something he could only conjure in a nightmare. He was too late.
Alric Evans was pinned to the wall by the legs of the desk that held the snow globe he hid in. His eyes were gouged out and mudblood was carved into his forehead. Luckily, Draco had overlooked that horrendous scene. His eyes had immediately followed a trail of blood which led to Evans' wife. She lay on the floor like a twisted piece of metal. Her body curved in unfathomable ways. Her eyes remained open, still focused on her husband even as the life was squeezed from her lungs. She was a testament to devotion, a devotion that Draco had seen flickering in his mother. Draco struggled to get air to his lungs. He could now visualize what the future would bring and he desperately wished to escape it. The murder of Mrs. Evans was a symbol of the suffering that the second coming of the Dark Wizard would cause.
"What's that in your hand, Draco?" he heard his aunt Bellatrix ask him from somewhere far off. She didn't wait for him to offer the parchment before she wrenched it from his grasp. "Ah, I see you've found, Lucius. Very well, we've got what we needed." With a satisfied grin on her face, she marched past her nephew and down the stairs.
"What's the matter, boy," Greyback cackled. "Gonna' be sick?"
The blond shook his head vigorously, taking three deep breaths before he turned on the spot and followed his aunt to where she stood outside, wilting the tulips with swishes of her wand. He needed to leave this place. He needed to get back to Hogwarts, but first, he desperately needed to see his mother. He walked up towards his aunt with a stoic expression plastered on his face and his protection wards barricading his mind. He couldn't count the amount of times he silently thanked Snape for teaching him Occlumency when he was younger. His aunt Bellatrix had also attempted to teach him over the summer; showing him just enough to counter intrusions from Aurors, but not so much that he would be able to escape the power of the Dark Lord. Little did she know, he was already well-equipped. He knew his aunt was a terrible Legilimens, she was too manic to muster the concentration needed to efficiently rifle through someone's mind, but that didn't stop her from trying when she thought something was amiss.
"Wasn't that fun, Draco?" Bellatrix chirped, "Just one thing left to do!" She raised her wand towards the sky and cackled gleefully as a blinding stream of green light shot out. Draco watched on as the light took the shape of a menacing skull with a snake protruding from its open mouth.
As soon as Greyback joined them Bellatrix placed her hand on both of their wrists and jerkily Apparated them outside of the front entrance to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix practically skipped along the greystone pathway and bolted through the door. Draco followed her with brisk footsteps wanting nothing more than to escape into his room and expel the contents of his stomach. As he bolted past the sitting room he caught his mother's eye. She was sitting by the fireplace next to Rowle as Bellatrix loudly requested the destination of the her master.
The Manor seemed ten times larger than what Draco remembered. His breathing was getting heavier with every step. When he finally reached the marble staircase to get to his room, his vision started to blur. It took every ounce of energy to climb the stairs and trudge his way to his bedroom near the end of the hallway. He pressed his forehead against the door, breathing in the lacquer of the paint hoping it might help to steady his stomach. With the last ounce of energy that he had, he pushed open the door and ran to his adjoining lavatory, burying his head in the bowl of the loo to vomit.
Three quiet knocks came at his bedroom door. He knew who they were from and made no attempt to remove himself from where he sat, clinging to the toilet bowl for dear life. He didn't need to look at his mother's face to visualize the worry that lined her eyes. "Dragon?" she whispered, a name she affectionately called the boy in front of her whenever she wished to remind him of how very dear he was to her.
He looked at her now, eyes burning from holding back tears, with sweat coating his brow.
"Did you…" she started to say. He knew that she was asking whether or not he was forced to take someone's life.
"No," he responded, his voice sounding oddly small. "I didn't have my wand."
Narcissa kneeled down reaching out to cover her son's hand with her own. "Show me what happened." Unlike his aunt, his mother had managed to obtain some kind of proficiency with Legilimency. She was nowhere near as competent as Severus Snape, and would often be noticed when she explored someone's mind for longer than a minute, but with a little help she was able to find what she wanted to know. This was the easiest and most efficient way for her to communicate with her son, especially with all of the ears in her home. Draco pushed forward all of his thoughts pertaining to what occurred at the Evans household to the forefront of his mind, ensuring to block off everything else, especially recent encounters with a certain muggle-born witch. He looked his mother in the eye and nodded, giving her permission to enter his mind.
Draco felt a slight tingle as she passed through his open guards and sifted through his thoughts. He caught a glimpse of Mrs. Evans with painful sores all over her body, Alric Evans pleading with his aunt, and the toddler - who his mother spent a considerable length of time observing. "Oh, Draco…" she breathed, concluding her bout of Legilimency and regarding her son with concern etched in every crease of her face.
"I had to," the boy responded, the strength gradually returning to his voice. "I couldn't leave her for Greyback."
He expected his mother to be cross with him once she realized what he'd done, but she wasn't. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, no longer as radiant as it was before the Dark Lord's followers started traipsing in and out of Malfoy Manor. She didn't like what her son did, but she didn't agree with the gruesome loss of lives, especially when they involved young children. "Well, what now?"
"Snape could help, couldn't he? I mean, they'll be going to investigate the house some time soon." The "they" that the Malfoy heir was referring to was the Order of the Phoenix, the honourable society that Dumbledore himself created. With the haunting mark of the Dark Lord hovering over the Evans household, it would be an hour or so before the Aurors made their way there. "He could send word to Dumbledore or...I don't know…" the boy whispered.
Slowly, Narcissa straightened and cleared her throat decisively. She gazed upon the young man at her feet knowing she would do anything in her power to protect and care for him. "I will try to send an owl," she told him. "But Draco, there are no guarantees."
A/N: Finally. An update! If you've stuck with me this long, I am truly grateful. Life got in the way a bit, but I have some down-time now so I will be updating more regularly.