Draco blinked his eyes open. The room was dark. The strain in his arms was ever present, but he was no longer in chains. Instead he was seated on a chair, in the middle of the dungeon, with his wrists and ankles bound by barbed wire. He winced from the pain, knowing this was only the beginning.

The door opened.

He glanced forward, and beheld the silhouette of someone other than his Aunt Bellatrix. "Draco?"

The fair-haired wizard squinted his eyes, able to distinguish his visitor only by the sound of her voice. He took a deep, unnerving breath. "It's been a long time," he struggled to say. "Parkinson."

His former flame revealed herself with the light from her wand. She looked older – not by age, but by experience. Her hair was still short and black, and she was still quite tall for a girl…but the difference in her demeanor was evident. She conjured a chair and pulled it close to him, taking a seat. Her eyes darted from his, and over the battle wounds across his face, neck and body.

"They told me you were here," she started, glancing back at him. "I know our friendship didn't end on the best terms, but I hope, as adults, we can move forward from that."

Draco choked out a laugh. "I'm strapped to a chair by barbed wire. I hardly think it's the time to make amends."

"It's never a bad time to make amends," Pansy said quickly, colour crossing her cheeks.

He narrowed his vision, knowing that look like the back of his hand. "Tell me what's going on. It's the least you could do after what happened."

"There's nothing you need to know. Not right now."

"They're going to kill me," Draco decided, monotone. "Aren't they?"

Pansy flashed him a look of alarm. "Don't say that."

"I'm not afraid of death, Parkinson. I would never have switched sides if I were still that same coward from Hogwarts." The conviction in his voice was clear as day. "How long do I have?"

"I'm not answering any questions," she resolved, fixing her gaze on the back wall. "It's too dangerous."

Draco stared at her for a long while. "You don't have to fear them. They're nothing without people like you and I to back them up."

"It's not them I fear."

"Oh, come on!" he jeered. "Don't tell me you believe in that origin story bollocks. It's fake, Parkinson. None of it is real. It's what they tell you to keep you in line."

"Is it fake?" she posed, gesturing to the blood on his shirt. "Look at you. If that isn't divine punishment for going against nature, I don't know what is."

The young man sighed. "Why are you even here?"

Pansy folded her arms across her chest. "I still care about you, you know? I heard what happened to you, and I had to see for myself."

"All right. You've had a look. Why are you still here?"

There was a strange emotion in her eyes. It wasn't quite curiosity or even affection. It did, however, look painfully familiar. "Is it true what they're saying about you and the Granger girl?"

Draco raised both eyebrows. "You're jealous?"

"What? No!" The witch rolled her eyes, murmuring something to herself before paying him any attention. "I meant about the Elder Wand. They told me you and Granger were looking for it."

"Hardly."

"It's no use, you know?" Pansy stared off into the distance. "I don't know the details, but there is a plan in motion." She took a deep breath. "I came here to warn you. Stay out of their way, and you might survive."

"I don't care about sur –"

"Listen to me!" she exclaimed, suddenly. There were actual tears in her eyes. There was a pause in their dialogue, in which she allowed herself to calm down. "All I'm going to say is that the Dark Lord could have summoned you any time he wanted, but he waited until a bond was formed between you and that girl."

Draco gathered the information. "You're saying he plans on using me to hurt her? I can fight the Imperius Curse. It won't be an issue."

"Just shut up already." Pansy shook her head slowly; weighed down by whatever scheme the others had planted into her mind. "This isn't some lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Draco. There is serious magic at play, magic even the Founders of Hogwarts wouldn't understand." She stared him dead in the eye and stood on both feet. "Take my advice, and push all thoughts of Granger from your mind." The sound of her designer heels scratching against the concrete floor echoed in the dungeon, as she turned to leave. "It's the only way she'll survive."