A/N: My apologies for the wait, I have a few chapters lined up I hope to get to you ASAP. Enjoy! And many thanks to the wonderful Michy x3

Chapter Ten
Mauvais

It was too hot. Draco couldn't sleep, he felt sticky. Instead of bothering the House Elves, he made his way weary-eyed down to the kitchens, but stilled on his way past his Father's study. The door was cracked open slightly, light pouring out. He pushed his way through the door and smiled over at his father, sitting amongst piles of paperwork at his crowded desk, his cloak sleeves rolled up as he furiously wrote. Once he noticed his seven year old son in the room, he paused, smiling achingly. "Draco, you should be in bed, it's late."

"I know, Daddy, but it's too hot, I couldn't sleep." The small boy dragged his feet over to the desk and stood beside his father, who put down his quill and placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Ask the House Elves to put a cooling charm on your bedroom, it should help, son." Lucius smiled warmly down at his young carbon copy and released his shoulder. As his arm moved, something on it caught the young boy's eye.

"Daddy, what's that?" Draco reached out and pointed to the marked forearm, his brows furrowed curiously.

Lucius frowned at the Dark Mark momentarily. "That, my son, is a mark I am honoured to bear. And you will be, too, one day."

XXXX

"Yeah, right, honoured. I wonder if you still would've praised him if you knew the man behind that mark would be the one to kill you, your wife and your son. Bloody psychopath," Draco spat beneath his breath, glaring down at his freshly wounded, barely visible Dark Mark, blood still cascading down from it. He knew this was it, the pain radiating from every pore in his body to such an extent that he nearly felt numb. Bellatrix promised he'd be begging for death... it hadn't come to that yet, although Draco could see the yearning nearing.

Voices emerged from down the corridor outside his windowless, cold stone dungeon cell. His Aunt's unmistakeable cackle reached his ears, and it made his blood run cold with venom. His hands curled into fists - he winced at the pain that even such a simple movement caused. 'I wonder if Azkaban would be a better fate. Yes, definitely better than staying anywhere near her, but I must think of the best possible fate that could follow this Hell.'

The door to his cell flung open, and slammed against the wall, causing dust and dirt to skirt about in his direction. Bellatrix Lestrange smirked crookedly down at her injured, weakened prisoner. She crossed her arms, her wand curled in her slender hand. "The last Malfoy heir, an itty bitty pest!" she spat and then laughed, approaching Draco who instinctively backed away from her nearing. Bellatrix had that same crazed looked in her eye. He'd asked about that look when he was young and had seen it in pictures, but it hadn't been long until he'd stopped asking.

She was lowered to his level, crouching before his slouched, barely breathing figure. Draco no longer had the energy or the care to indulge her by responding, or even scowling. It didn't matter what he did, the same result always met him; more pain, more reminders of how he had failed his parents, of how he had never gotten to tell them not only how truly sorry he was, but how much he loved them both more than anything. Balancing herself on one foot, she swiftly kicked Draco's shin, causing him to cry out. It wasn't a hard kick, but his leg had been broken two, or perhaps three, days ago, he wasn't sure, as time seemed to stand still in the depths of his own family's dungeon. Satisfaction grew on her face at his reaction, and she pushed her wand into his throat just under his jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. When he looked at her, it was no longer with fear, or hatred or dismay, no, those emotions had fled him a week or two after his capture. Instead, he looked drained and bored.

Bellatrix leaned forward. She smelt like his Mother's perfume and it made his stomach churn, but he didn't give her the pleasure of seeing it. She was near enough to kiss him as she hissed, "You're no fun anymore, Dracey-poo! Maybe this will help...Crucio!"

Draco was used to this pain. In fact, he preferred it over what he knew was coming next. The Cruciatus Curse radiated like a twisting, hot explosion from his throat where her wand pressed. He was barely aware of his own cries as he arched and thrashed against his chains with the effects of the Unforgiveable coursing through him. When it finally ceased seconds, maybe minutes, later, he felt tears falling soundlessly on his cheeks. She was pouting, obviously not satisfied with the results, so maybe she would have enough of the torture soon. The tip of her wand was now pressing on the bruised skin of his forearm, between two particularly nasty gashes that were beginning to scab over. She whispered, "Segmentium." It was searing hot and slow as she dragged her wand down his arm, and he choked out a scream. He preferred the Cruciatus Curse indefinitely.

When she was finished, she was smiling again. She cupped Draco's whimpering face in her hands and grinned. "That's what you get for being a filthy, blood traitor, coward! Will you welcome death today, little boy?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Never," he croaked defiantly. She clicked her tongue and stood, turning with a swish of her cloak towards the door. Draco couldn't help but feel relieved. "That's it for today, dearest Auntie?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Bellatrix smirked over her shoulder at him. "Consider my mercy a late birthday present, dear nephew."

Once he was alone, he wasted no time in letting his sobs break through as he looked down at his tattered and torn body, new blood cascading from his forearm, covering the traces of the Dark Mark. 'I'm going to die soon, how much more blood can my body lose? Is this really how the last of the Malfoys is going to perish? How utterly pathetic.'

Draco recalled the night he had come here, how the pain never ended. It had lasted forever, he had been certain it was his final day on Earth, and he was surprised and appalled that Bellatrix hadn't finished him off swiftly as she had his parents. No, they got the easy way out, a simple Killing Curse for the both of them. Draco could recall the light leaving their bodies, the green flash in their eyes. Idly in the back of his head, he wondered if that's what infant Potter had seen.

Soft footsteps startled him from his thoughts. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky that that was all, or perhaps she was returning to finally end it all. But when the door opened, one of the least expected faces emerged. "S-Severus?"

Severus looked down with a horrified expression which he quickly masked. He flicked his wand, and the chains about Draco's wrists and ankles snapped open and fell to the floor. Draco went wide-eyed. "What are you doing? How are you here-"

"There is no time to explain, Draco. I would have come sooner if I could, but it was simply too dangerous. We have only a few minutes," Snape explained quickly, reaching down to the blond who attempted to bring his arms upwards but failed. He hissed and cradled his left arm. Snape frowned and bent down, scooping the boy up and supporting him, his arm underneath his shoulders.

"There's no way out, Sev. They'll have the entrance guarded like Azkaban, it's impossible-"

"Like I said, Draco, there is no time for explanations. We must be quick. Can you run?"

Draco frowned, looked down at his bent leg and slowly shook his head – he couldn't even put weight on it. Snape pointed his wand at his leg, and Draco had to bite back a scream as he heard and felt his bones crack back into place. "And here, drink this and quickly. It's a Pain Reliever, it will last long enough to get you out of here."

"What about you?" Draco asked, chugging back the liquid vial he was given without question, immediately feeling better than he had in weeks.

Snape was frowning. Even in the near darkness Draco could make it out. "There is still a lot of work to be done. There are things I must do to help end this all, I don't expect you to understand-"

"So it's true. Father suspected it, but never dare mention it to the Dark Lord. You were working for them? All that time? Was it...for her?"

Snape winced. "How do you have any idea-"

"I'm not a complete imbecile, Sev. Once the Dark Lord returned, I made sure these walls had ears."

Snape nodded slowly. There weren't many things Lucius Malfoy didn't know, as that man had made it his business to know the dirty secrets of all those around him - it was one of the ways he and the generations before him had climbed as high as they had. "Now quickly. You know the fireplace in your Father's office, the one in the South Wing? You do know it's-"

"A faux fireplace, leads to a room where only a true Malfoy can go into. You do know this is my house?" he drawled.

"Go to it. I have ensured a clear path, but you only have minutes left. Four minutes after you leave this cell I will lower the wards around the Manor, but only for one minute. Do you understand me? You must Apparate within that minute."

"But where, Sev? Where can I Apparate to, where I can be safe?"

Snape shoved a piece of paper into Draco's hand. "Once you're in the room, read that. There are wards around his house as well, but this will get you close."

"His? Who is he, exactly? And can I trust him, are you certain?"

"It's either him or the werewolf, your choice, Malfoy," Severus hissed and Draco knew. His eyes went wide at his Godfather's scowl.

"No, no! There's no way! He hates me, he'll kill me on the spot, I can't!"

Draco was being shaken now. Severus' hands were clutched on his shoulders as he glared down at him. "He is your only hope and if I know Potter, he will do whatever it takes so long as it's the right thing to do. Now hurry, we're wasting time!" He shoved Draco towards the door. The blond stumbled at first. He hadn't walked in weeks, his limbs felt like they had no idea what to do.

He smiled thankfully at the worn looking man. "Sev-"

"I know, Draco. Now go."

So he ran. He ran like he never had before, his eyes darting around each corner he turned. He knew the quickest way to the particular study Snape was talking about. He ignored the nostalgia running through him as he thought this would be the last time he would ever set sights on his own home. Once he entered the study he suddenly feared, he realised had no wand. But then, he caught a glimpse of it on the mantle place. He smirked. Of course Severus would have thought of it before hand. He clutched his wand like a lifeline and stepped through the faux flames of the fire, into an open, expansive room. These days it didn't hold much. He recalled many more things being stowed away there as a child, but now it was barren.

Draco cast a tempus spell, as he waited with baited breath. One more minute before the wards would be lifted. "So, Potter is going to be my better fate after Hell. How bloody perfect," he spat to himself in bemusement. The time came, and he felt the wards being lifted. He took a deep breath. "Here goes everything." With a loud crack, he disappeared and landed in Little Whinging, Surrey.

XXXX

Fifteen year old Draco pressed his ear up against a shell in his bedroom. It was a spell he had learned whilst at Hogwarts; he enchanted it so that he could hear from its counterpart which was currently lying underneath his Father's desk in his main study. After the Triwizard Tournament, things were different at home, people kept coming and going and Draco had to stay in his bedroom almost always, only having his Mother for company telling him that soon, one day, he'd understand why. He knew why. The Dark Lord truly had returned. His Father was a Death Eater. For some reason, it didn't fully sit right with him, but he was taught that he should be proud of the fact. That one day, all that would be left would be Death Eaters and their kin.

"What is it you want, Wormtail?" Lucius spat wearily.

"H-his cauldron, sir! He needs it back! He's so pleased you kept it safe all these years!" Wormtail's voice was quivering, and he sounded humbly fearful.

"Of course, if it is what he possesses I shall bring it to hi-"

"No need, sir, I will-"

A loud slam. Draco winced, as it echoed in his ear. "Do not interrupt me whilst I am speaking, you pathetic rodent!" Lucius snapped, and then sighed, "I will bring Mauvais the cauldron this evening, Wormtail, you may go."

"The Dark Lord, he doesn't like being called that you know-"

"I said GO, Wormtail!" Lucius demanded.

Draco slowly pulled the shell from his ear, his eyes wide. He wasn't the cleverest in his year, so much as he would like to boast that he was, but he wasn't stupid, either. He was rubbish at Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, but had an aptitude for Charms, Curses, Potions and reading. Especially the latter since the beginning of that summer. It wasn't many months before that when he had come across the name 'Mauvais'.

"No. That can't be right. I must be delusional. Mother's right, I really should just concentrate on my potions." Draco shook his head and put the shell back on his desk. Though he forgot about it that day, he never knew how helpful the mere mention of that name would be in the years to come.