Thanks to Elo, Hannah and The Darkest Wizard for their review.

Just a question before the chapter: has my advice/order/require of last chapter been fulfilled?

It was an evening like a hundred of evenings before. He sat in an armchair in the great drawing room with his father – a habit they had taken quite a while ago. His mother was there, as well. They didn't speak much – there wasn't much to say. And Draco got lost in thought.

It felt so right to be here when there were no Death Eaters around, when the Dark Lord was gone – although they hardly noticed his presence, for he kept to his room or study all the time, his aura seemed to hover over the Manor, and darken their mood. It wasn't real happiness, but a weird kind of peace, an alertness of mind, so unlike the numb terror he experienced most of the time, either here or at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts... It was so different now. His seventh year would soon be over, yet he had trouble believing it. What was the school now? Exams seemed such a childish prospect when your world was about terror. The only ones who weren't frightened were the ones boasting to be on the Dark Lord's side, without actually having anything to prove this boast. Lately, Crabbe and Goyle were among those. Zabini seemed neutral – agreeing silently with the dark ideals – and Pansy, most of the time, just watched from a distance. He was alone.

Draco's musings were interrupted by a cloud of smoke sliding under the door. Stopping right in front of them, it shaped itself into a great face, and a clanging, echoing voice said "Visitors at the gates!"

"Let them in!" Lucius answered, rising his eyebrows.

The smoke ghost disappeared. Lucius made a move to stand.

"I'll go," Narcissa told him, and she departed from the room. Draco watched her leave, then glanced at his father. What would it be again? What was going on?

They didn't have to wait much; the sound of heavy footsteps and kicking was soon to be heard in the corridor, and Narcissa walked back into the room, her face expressionless, followed by a gang of Snatchers, led by no other than Fenrir Greyback, and pulling a bunch of prisoners after them.

What were they doing there?

"What is this?" Lucius drawled.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa replied, "Draco, come here."

Terror held him in an iron grip as he walked forward slowly.

The prisoner Greyback was holding was placed directly under the chandelier; could it be? Surely not, surely not... His hair was too long, his eyes mere slits behind the glasses... Yet... Draco caught a glimpse of green... Potter wouldn't look at him... His face was so distorted, it could only be by a curse...

"Well, Draco?" his father asked eagerly, "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't – I can't be sure," Draco stammered. It it was true... If Potter was here, it was to meet his end... He was already as good as a corpse... Draco wouldn't approach, he could not bear to approach... Yet it was it, it was them... Lucius and Greyback were shouting in excitement, quarrelling, and the prisoners were trembling, scared to death, helpless prey...

They couldn't be more different from Dumbledore, yet Draco felt the same fear... Once again, the weight, the burden was on his shoulders... He did not want them to die... And if he committed a mistake...

Draco looked them in the eye, one after the other... The Mudblood... He recognized her without a doubt... And Weasley, and maybe another Gryffindor... What now, what could he do? He could not go on like this, unable to harm those people he had hated fiercely, just because he knew them...

"I don't know," he told his father. It wasn't really a lie... He walked away...

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa said then. His mother, always the voice of wisdom, their support in this storm... Draco kept in the background... Let them forget him... He couldn't face it...

Yet he had no choice, as the Mudblood was pushed forward into the light, as Narcissa herself recognized her...

"I..."

He didn't know, no, but he knew, he knew...

"Maybe..."

It would happen anyway, it was a good thing, it was good... Just one word was important today, he had to say it... It wasn't even a dangerous one...

"Yeah."

There.

He hadn't done anything for that weird Lovegood girl, wasting away in his cellar for months... Why would he protect a bunch of filthy Gryffindor enemies?

Anyway – no use to fret, now. Potter and his friends were done for. Lucius had recognized Weasley now – no doubt was left...

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"

Draco started at the sound of his aunt's voice. He hadn't seen her in ages, yet surely she would appear in such a moment. He had almost forgotten what she was like, as it seemed, and watched her take control of the situation as if she were a complete stranger. Maybe she was one, what had he ever known about her?

Perceptive enough to recognize Granger right away, though she had only seen her once or twice.

Passionate and loyal enough to want the triumph of handing Potter to the Dark Lord for herself, although she wouldn't be the rewarded one at the end. Short-tempered enough to fight with Lucius for this right, had he had a wand; overproud enough not to use this unfair advantage against him.

Yearning for nothing but the Dark Lord's approval and favour.

Cryptic and unpredictable.

Draco did not try to understand why Bellatrix was suddenly so frantic about the Snatchers' sword; he did not care. He did not admire his aunt's incredible skill, he had witnessed it many times before, felt it in his own flesh, even. He stared at his hesitating, helpless father, at his frozen mother, at the trembling prisoners; he saw suffering to come, glory already fading away, anguish and terror, and for the first time, he felt a surge of sheer hatred for the petite warrior who was tearing their lives apart, along with hers, blind to everything but glowing red eyes.

"Draco, move this scum outside," she ordered sharply, her voice edgy and shrill with distress, "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

I'll rather kill them, he thought, It will do them a favour.

He tried to meet his aunt's gaze, yet she had already turned away. Before he could make a move, Narcissa exclaimed fiercely:

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like – "

"Be quiet!" Bellatrix screamed back, cutting her off, "The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"

Her head shot back and forth, before she looked back down at the sword in her hands. She was clutching it so tightly that Draco thought he saw a bit of blood seeping, as her hand slid on the blade so she could examine the hilt. She whirled round again. Her eyes looked mad, drowned in frantic desperation.

This time, Draco pitied her.

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella," Narcissa shot back, seemingly unaware of the danger in her determination to put her sister back in her place, "You don't give orders in my – "

"Do it!" Bellatrix shrieked, drowning her sister's voice in her ferocity once more, "you have no idea of the danger we are in!"

This time Narcissa obeyed. And it was Greyback...who had been helpless so far, neutralized by Bellatrix... who had watched in silence... who was now handed the helpless prisoners. They were on their way to a little hell of the Malfoys'... Headed to join the Lovegood girl and Ollivander... Before an even worse fate awaited them. All except Granger.

Bellatrix had said "Yet", he reasoned, and tore his gaze from the nearly drooling werewolf, to focus on the Mudblood. She was shaking...

She was right.

The first scream soon erupted from her throat, and Draco closed his eyes.