A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Quick word to the anonymous reviewer who said they don't want Arianwen with "that dirty dog Draco", just a reminder that this is labelled as a Draco/OC fic so they most definitely will be together...awks. Also I don't think Arianwen was being bullied in chapter 14, sure the other girls were being nasty but Arianwen can look after herself and it would be a bit boring if everyone got on perfectly all the time, no? Just a thought. Anyway, if you think it was embarrassing then maybe this story isn't for you but I would be grateful if you'd give it a chance :)

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-One: Awakening

Arianwen smiled as she entered the common room on Saturday morning, Draco was waiting for her in his favourite armchair by the fire and grinned at her as she approached. Much to the childish delight of some neighbouring first years, Draco reached out and pulled her into his lap, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?"

Arianwen shrugged, eying the younger students suspiciously. "It was alright, as it good as it could be with, you know…"

Draco nodded. Her apprehension was understandable; they were going to Wales today, so she could finally get some closure regarding the events around her father's death.

"Morning!" Blaise called as he emerged from behind the tapestry with the rest of the sixth years. "How come I didn't see you at breakfast, Ri?"

"I'm just not very hungry at the minute, love."

Blaise cast his eyes over the two of them cwtched on the armchair and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Hungry for something else, is it?"

Draco let out a loud bark of laughter as Arianwen flushed and attempted to swat Blaise.

"You're disgusting," she said, crossing her arms and scowling at him.

"I know, darling. Anyway, are you two ready for Hogsmeade, we're gonna head down in a mo', just need to grab my cloak."

Draco snaked his arms around Arianwen's middle, pulling her closer to him. "Nah, we're not gonna bother today, think we're just going to stay here and catch up."

Blaise grinned, winking exaggeratedly at his friend. "Catching up on lost time, eh? Fair enough, we'll leave you to it then!"

He dashed off to get his cloak and scarf from his dorm and then exited the common room with the other sixth years, shouting as he went, "later! Make sure you're out of our room by the time we get back, I don't fancy a biology lesson today!"

Arianwen groaned. "He's such an idiot."

They went down to Draco's dorm and waited for an hour before heading out to Hogsmeade themselves. Draco had cast the difficult disillusionment charm on them so were they camouflaged against their surroundings, but they still had to be cautious.

"So, how did you manage to arrange a portkey?" Arianwen whispered to Draco, as they made their way past The Three Broomsticks pub and further into the village.

"Well, we're working on infiltrating the Ministry at the moment so I pulled a few strings, I've got a few more inside contacts now that the Dark Lord has turned his attention to it."

They arrived on a secluded path leading up a small hill from which the Shrieking Shack could be seen.

"There it is." Draco said, guiding Arianwen over to a scarf that was tied to a fence post. He tapped her on the head with his wand and she became fully visible again.

"Are you ready for this?" She could now see Draco too, and didn't miss the worry on his face.

She gave him a determined smile and linked her arm in his. "Yes, absolutely."

"Alright," he said, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. "This will take us to somewhere in the middle of the woods by your house, so you'll have to lead us to your uncle from there." She nodded in understanding. "Well then, on the count of three; one, two, three!"

They both put their free hands on the scarf and felt the disturbing sensation of being dragged backwards by a hook behind their navel.

They span through the air, tightly gripping to the scarf, until the portkey pulled them to a thudding halt in the centre of an enormous room. It was lavishly decorated in gold, marble and mother of pearl; the walls were covered in a stunning renaissance painting, depicting the 'Battle of Independence' between the Welsh and English. The Welsh wizards all wore golden cloaks and carried gem-encrusted swords along with their wands; they were accompanied by Welsh giants, druids, and some rather vicious-looking fairies. On the ceiling were hoards of dragons, some gold and others green in colour, and all were breathing fire in the direction of the English army who were on the wall at the far end of the chamber, defending themselves against the united Welsh forces.

"I thought you said we would land in the woods?" Arianwen hissed to Draco, who looked equally as confused as she.

"I'm afraid you have me to thank for that," a low voice said, echoing across the hall. From the shadows a tall, imposing man emerged.

"Uncle Dafydd!" Arianwen greeted calmly, trying to pretend that she hadn't just jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She felt Draco step closer to her.

"I'm glad to see you received my message, dear niece." Dafydd's smile appeared perfectly genuine, except his eyes glittered with malice. "And you brought a guest! It's so good to finally meet you, young Master Malfoy."

"Lord Gwydion," Draco said, inclining his head a fraction.

"Dearest niece," Dafydd said, again, the repetition sinister in and of itself, "you should have told me we were going to have company; I would have arranged for tea to be brought up."

"It's no trouble," Draco started, but Dafydd interrupted him.

"Nonsense," he said, his smile leeching sincerity. "There's no reason we can't be civilised."

He snapped his fingers, and a teapot and three china cups appeared on a tray at his side.

"Sit," he said, his voice a command, and they found themselves dropping backwards onto the settee behind them. "Drink," he said, and the tea poured itself and floated towards them. Trying not to glance at Arianwen and give away his unease, Draco accepted his cup, and carefully pretended to drink. He had had enough experience with tainted liquids to not drink anything he didn't trust.

"So." Dafydd lounged back in the ornate armchair he had chosen for himself. "Why don't you tell me what you're here for, Arianwen."

"I'm here for answers," Arianwen said, her voice tight with carefully controlled emotion.

"Answers?" Dafydd said, raising one eyebrow as if in surprise. "That's funny, I thought you came here to watch your father die."

Dafydd laughed as her eyes widened in shock. "Oh Arianwen, not as unpredictable as you think, are you? Come, I've prepared a little presentation for you."

Dafydd flicked his wand, and the shadows convalesced, thickening and swirling in the centre of the room; the furniture in front of them disappeared as the shadows formed a solid mass of darkness, seething and twisting into itself like a roiling mass of midnight black eels. As the spell took shape, so did the shadows, small slits of light blooming out of it as the darkness separated and compressed to form figures, moving around another room, in another time.

Draco recognised the spell; the Wizengamot used it in trials to display memory evidence without the use of the Pensieve, and the dread pooling in his stomach was like a physical thing, gripping at his lungs and slipping ice claws into his spine.

The figures were taking on more shape, now, the colours of them bleeding slightly as they moved.

"I've made up my mind, Dafydd," Dewi was saying, his lips moving separately to the words that washed out of the memory, the spell translating the Welsh to English. "I'm meeting with the Council tomorrow to put forward my petition: Arianwen will be my heir."

"There is no way they will accept it," Dafydd said, his voice barely above a hiss, his face ashen with rage. "The law has been in place for centuries, you cannot change tradition on a whim because you couldn't fuck a son into your damned wife."

Dewi whirled on his brother, his arm twisting as though to hit him, but he held his temper. "You are not fit to hold office," he said, his voice laden with derision, eyes cool as he met Dafydd's furious gaze. "I will not allow the Wardenship to fall into such," he paused, "unworthy hands."

Dafydd's face twisted, his lips drawing back to bare his teeth, the muscles in his neck bulging as he clenched his jaw. In a movement so fast it was a dark smudge in the soft edges of the memory, the sleeves of his robes blurring and the tip of his wand a long, sweeping semi circle as he thrust it at his brother. Dewi fell back, landing hard on the stone floor, his face shocked and pained as he tried to move against the Immobilus Charm that Dafydd has cast.

"How dare you," Dafydd spat, his hand visibly shaking as he stepped quickly towards Dewi's prone form, "call me unworthy." He stopped just out of Dewi's reach, staring down at him. "You have always thought yourself so much better than me, brother," he said; "allow me to show you that we are all the same, underneath."

Oh, Merlin, Draco thought, seeing the first thin line of blood appear on Dewi's face. "Don't look," he said, urgently, to Arianwen. "Don't look."

Arianwen turned to face him, her eyes wild. "I have to," she said, her voice tight, "I have to know."

Dewi's skin was peeling back from his face, a long thick strip pulling up from his jaw towards his eye socket. His teeth were clenched, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the ghost light of the memory, staring in disbelief at his brother.

"See, Dewi," Dafydd said, his voice so calm it was almost hysterical, as the skin of Dewi's cheek separated at his eye socket in a neat line, and fell to the floor next to his face with a wet slap. Blood oozed from the exposed muscle, smearing into Dewi's hair and ear. "Do you not bleed as I do?" The edge of the wound started to move, the skin lifting and pulling itself over Dewi's nose, his lips; and now, Dewi did scream, the sound high and strangled through his clenched teeth as Dafydd's spell reached his eyelid, slicing it neatly and slowly away from his socket.

Draco felt the nausea push at his throat, his mouth full of the acrid taste of bile, as Dafydd's spell lifted the entire left half of Dewi's face into the air, the flesh flapping like a grotesque mask. It floated in the air near to Dafydd's face, then pulled and opened next to his, facing Dewi's ruined face.

"Do we not look so similar, brother?" Dafydd said, admiring the skin hovering before him. "Our father's strong jaw, high cheekbones? Although," he added, something of a laugh in his voice, barely audible of the choked screams of his brother, "I guess I'm looking in the wrong place for that, right now."

Blood was blooming through the fabric of Dewi's shirt in thick, dark patches; clearly Dafydd wasn't interested in stripping the whole of Dewi's chest in one large piece, instead skinning him in small, vicious patches.

Then there was another sound, different from the sobbing screams of Dewi and the wet sounds of his skin coming away from his raw, red flesh. It was almost like footsteps, walking through the house beyond the limits of the memory, moving steadily towards the two figures in the room.

"Father?" came a voice, curious but unconcerned. Draco heard Arianwen take a harsh breath beside him, and darted a look at her. Her eyes were fixed on the image before them, her face wet, her hands shaking where there were clenched by her thighs. The voice had, unmistakably, been hers.

"Do you hear that, Dewi?" Dafydd's smile was like oil. "Your daughter is calling for you. Why don't you answer her?"

He twisted his wrist; Dewi screamed, and the door opened.

"Father," Arianwen said, her voice very small and pale, even through the memory.

"Hello, Arianwen," said Dafydd. "So good of you to join us."

Dewi's blood was seeping out across the floor. Arianwen couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from it.

"Do you think you can save him, Arianwen?" Dafydd said, softly. His eyes, so much like hers, held a mockery that Draco recognised. Arianwen finally tore her eyes away from her father to stare at him, white faced and uncomprehending. "Why don't you try?"

For a long moment, Arianwen didn't move, and then she was staggering forward, falling to her knees next to her father, blood splattering around her and soaking through her trousers.

"Oh, Merlin," she was saying, her voice shaking as much as her hands as she fluttered through through the air around her father's face, trying to decide where she was supposed to start with the mess that was in front of her. "Oh god, Daddy."

"Tick tock, little healer," Dafydd said. "He's lost a lot of blood."

Arianwen made a choked sound that sounded like a sob, one hand smoothing over her father's bloody hair as the other settled on the buttons of his shirt. It was difficult to undo, the fabric making horrific sucking sounds as she tried to lift it free without causing Dewi any further distress. His breath kept hitching, a soft, wet sound catching in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she kept saying. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"See, brother," Dafydd said, "your daughter understands. She knows this is all her fault."

But Arianwen wasn't listening. Her fingers had caught on a chain around her father's neck, hidden beneath his shirt. She was pulling it free, staring at it as the weight of the pendant caught against the buttons. Dewi's demeanour changed suddenly, his one good eye wide and horrified, his fingers twitching near Arianwen's knee.

She turned her head, and looked straight at them, only it wasn't truly her. Her eyes were bright, unnatural blue, and she stared out of the memory and into the present. In her hand, half-concealed by blood and viscera, was an old brass key.

Draco felt his limbs seize and his bowels clench. Arianwen stared back at herself, eyes wide and shocked, but something akin to understanding beginning to bloom at the back of her mind. In the memory, Arianwen raised her wand, and green light flashed around the ghostly room.

"What-" said Dafydd, shocked that his niece had just managed to perform an unforgivable curse on her father. Still holding the key, Arianwen looked up at her uncle, her eyes green again; then they rolled back in her head, and she promptly passed out, collapsing sideways next to the corpse of her father, her blonde hair spilling out into the blood still spreading slowly across the floor.

In the stunned silence that followed as the spell dissipated, Draco recovered his wits first. Whilst Dafydd still sat frozen in his chair, staring at the place where the memory had been, Draco reached into his pocket and grabbed the small bag of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder that he had brought with them. Tossing it out into the room, he tugged Arianwen's wrist, and made a dash for the only door he could see.

They ran through a maze of marble-clad corridors and out onto the courtyard, Draco headed for one door but Arianwen stopped him. "No, this way!" They ran through the great hall and out into the grounds.

As they were running past the edge of Myddfai Lake, Arianwen stopped dead and hurled around, searching the water for something.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, trying to pull her away.

"I thought I head someone calling my name." Arianwen said, staring at the rock in the middle of the lake.

"Come on!" Draco cried urgently; not seeing anyone, Arianwen shook her head and followed.

It felt like they had been running for miles before they crossed a stone bridge and stopped, gasping for breath. Draco's shirt was stuck to his back with sweat and Arianwen didn't look any better, her hands on her knees as her chest heaved.

"Where now?" Draco asked, looking around at the vast expanse of land around them.

"We can floo to Hogwarts from the gate house but it must be at least 5 miles away!"

Draco racked his brain desperately, cursing himself for not preparing a contingency plan. He raised his wand as an idea struck him.

"Accio broom." He called, looking around in the hope that one would arrive. They waited, panting, and then heard the telltale whistling of an approaching broom.

"Thank fuck for that." Draco almost laughed with relief, he climbed on and waited for Arianwen to get on behind him and get a firm grip around his waist.

Arianwen called out directions to Draco as they flew and before long they had landed next to the gatehouse.

"It's through here," Arianwen whispered, guiding Draco through to the gate keeper's living room, "but be quiet or Mr. Reynolds will hear us."

They made it to the fireplace without getting caught and picked up handfuls of floo powder from a small porcelain pot.

"Which fireplace should we floo to?" Arianwen asked.

"It'll have to be Snape's, it's the only one we can use that isn't being monitored by the Ministry." Draco advised. "You first, babe, I'll be right behind you."

Arianwen nodded and stepped into the sooty fireplace, having to hunch her back to fit properly. "Hogwarts: Professor Snape's office." With a flash of emerald green, the flames swallowed her and she went hurtling through the floo network towards Hogwarts.

"Who's there?" A distant voice called from another room.

"Shit!" Draco hissed, he jumped into the fireplace and repeated the destination, managing to hurtle away as he saw a man's figure run into the room he'd just left behind.

He stepped out of the fireplace at the other end and was relieved to see that Professor Snape wasn't there. He brushed the soot off of his robes, then did the same for Arianwen, who was standing very still, her eyes looking off into the distance.

"I'm going to have to use the Disillusionment charm on you again, Ri, just so we can get back to my dorm, we need people to think we've been in there all day."

Arianwen nodded numbly, giving Draco a weak smile. After they were both under the spell, they made their way back to Draco's dorm without issue; most students were still at Hogsmeade and the younger ones out in the grounds or in the library.

When they were safely back in his dorm, Draco removed the charm from them and took in Arianwen's appearance. She looked surprisingly calm but he knew it couldn't last for long, not after what they'd seen.

"Arianwen," he said softly, "I'm going to collect a few things and then take you somewhere more private, okay?"

"Okay. Shall I wait here?"

"No, you go and get a spare change of clothes and then wait for me in the common room. I won't be long, alright?"

She nodded, giving him an unconvincing smile, before heading back up towards the common room, making sure she was seen by the other students.

Twenty minutes later, Draco hurried back into the common room to collect Arianwen. She was waiting patiently for him, a change of clothes folded neatly on her lap.

"I'll take those," he said, picking up her clothes, shrinking them, and putting them in the pocket of his robes. "Follow me."

He took them to the space where the room of requirement should be and paced back and forth three times before a door appeared. He held it open for Arianwen and watched for her reaction, she seemed satisfied enough.

He'd commanded the room to give them a bed, a place to eat, and a cosy fireplace, since Arianwen loved them so much. He had brought food from the kitchens with him, and started placing it on the table.

"Are you hungry?"

She shook her head slowly. "No I don't think I can eat."

Draco sighed and walked up to Arianwen, pulling her into a hug from behind. He felt her body relax and she turned around within the embrace to face him.

"Thank you for coming with me today, I'm glad you insisted," she said softly.

Draco smiled and kissed her gently but when he was about to pull away she leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. She needed to be close to him, she wanted to feel his warmth, his protection, his love…and he was only too willing to provide it.

A/N: This one was tricky to write, I'm not good at gross torture scenes, so reviews would be especially appreciated!