The regular disclaimer stays.(drb)
Chapter 9
A cold morning air had caressed him to the verge of wakefulness. The irony was, he had hardly slept for the last couple of months. Nightmares, life threats, screams of victims of unsavory torture and pure fear had kept him awake, shuddering, crying and searching for a single strand of hope to float for a while. Personal loss, loss of fate, loss of belief, his very soul was damned. How would he survive? What hope did he have to exist beyond this point? He was no longer afraid of death. He was afraid to live. Alone. He would surely kill himself. He was this close to sawing his left arm off. He was this close to cutting his own throat open. He was this close to giving up.
In each and every one of his nightmares he would see a woman subjected to torture. At times he would see her hair covered with blood. Platinum blonde, like him or like his Mother. His mother. The dark lord torturing his mother because he had failed to kill Dumbledore. The dark Lord torturing her because Father had failed to carry out some other hideous task.
Or Aunt Bella torturing a woman. Very young, could have been someone from school. Red flaming hair, her head tossed and banged against the floor, again and again, because she would not give away the locations of her friends. Aunt Bella hovering over her cracking into lurid giggles. like Hyena. She would flick her wand now and then lazily, and in a singsong voice cast the dreadful spell. Because she was captured from the enemy camp. At times, the crackling deatheater had her hair wound up in a tight fist. Blood dripping from her scalp.
Draco had woken up in his cell. This was a new day. Free from the reigns of Dark Lord. The Boy who lived had successfully got rid of him. But the war had simply changed its course. This was no longer a war among wizards. This was a war among werewolves and wizards. Ironic enough, things had started long before Potter and his sidekicks had ditched school and had been on the run.
Fenrir Greyback was loyal to Voldermort's cause, but the heartless werewolf had his own agendas at play behind the curtains. They could hardly fathom his cryptic moves, in those early bleak days. Each one of them was so focused on the Dark Lord and the upcoming face-off between the Light and Dark Side. When a handful of deatheaters had stormed in Bill Weasley's marriage ceremony, the wolf had kidnapped the bride's younger sister. Back in those days, all of them just knew she had been missing. That was all. The dark lord had hardly asked around, he was too angry to find they had missed capturing Potter once again.
Greyback and his pack had been waiting, plotting a surprise attack. As soon as the dark lord had died, he had disapparated along with his handful of pack members. During the battle he had succeeded in injured Lavender Brown. Luckily, Blaise Zabini had been around to whisk her away to St. Mungo's, where the poor girl had managed to give death a slip. The alpha had returned that very night. He had attacked just before midnight, thinking since most of the wounded were housed in the school itself, he would manage to kidnap Lavender. Perhaps, capture some more people to add to his pack.
With the heavy presence of the Aurors and the able Order members, the pack had been forced to retreat. The DADA professor who had once again fought off the vicious beast had revealed a gruesome fact. He strongly believed that Greyback was collecting. He was capturing both muggle and magical folks and was forcefully maiming them, torturing them, biting them- his goal was to turn each one of them into new pack members. On the other hand, he was after young girls and young women, turning them into his kind. His aim was to mate them and force them to carry his cubs.
This notion had turned to be valid when, hours before, the Aurors had succeeded in intercepting a small pack of werewolves, who had tried to attack the Parkinsons. They were able to kill all of the wolves. One of them had supplied, "Alpha had sent us for the girl." Pansy Parkinson. They had missed her because they lacked crucial information. Throughout the battle, she had locked up in the dungeons along with the other Slytherin housemates. She did not appear until the battle was won. Once the Light was victorious, she was taken away in a holding house. Now, her parents would face trial and perhaps they would be forced to get the KISS. As for Pansy, he could guess the same thing might happen. He did not have the energy, to feel concerned for anybody, right at this moment. He had started feeling numb and lifeless once again.
Draco could only think of such things like, how little the window was of this tiny cell. How odd the air smelt? He was aware, autumn was yet to come. And the air flowing through the room smelt of dried leaves. He could only assume. For right after, the defeat of the dark lord, the murder of his mother, the capture of his father, Greyback loyalists trying to kill the Parkinsons, and getting killed by Aurors, Greyback himself turning up at Hogwarts looking for Brown- the order members and the able Dumbledore's army members had decided to nip the werewolf uprising at its bud. They had planned to lure away the alpha, and to launch a surgical attack at his Lair.
The Greengrasses had acted as the bait. The same informant from the wolf pack that was sent to attack the Parkinsons, had managed to share that the Alpha was too eager to have the Greengrass girls. With a blood boiling grin, he had slurred, "Ha! In fact, every girl and every young and ripe woman fits his desire to mate." Seamus Finnigan had narrated back to them how a very irate Blaise had slashed that already dying pervert's jaw open.
A handful of Aurors, including Seamus and Blaise had been ordered to lurk around the Greengrass properties. They were specifically asked to keep the pack and its notorious alpha engaged, save the family and only retreat once they had received a Patronus from the other party, that the main part of the ploy was successful.
And "their planned attack at Greyback's Lair", had been successful. They had not only succeeded in killing some of the notorious werewolves of his rank but had also managed to save some of the captured witches and wizards. Though, they were too late to save Gabrielle Delacour. The young girl had died at childbirth. They were lucky enough to save the baby. His godfather and Remus Lupin had ensured that the newborn baby was healthy. He never got to see the child.
He had surrendered himself right before the team of Aurors. The snarling hands of the law were glad to get hold of the Malfoy Heir. He had resisted and had fought a mock duel, in order to help Severus, buy some time. His shouts and heated exchange of words with the Aurors had alerted the man still inside the labyrinth of caves. He must have got himself portkeyed away. Being the master spy, he was required in the field. The Aurors were yet to catch hold of the person.
Many didn't know, Finnigan and Blaise were aware of his true loyalty. They had escorted him to the interim holding house, where the ministry was keeping all those suspected deatheaters. He was sure that Snape would be brought in as well. The order of the Phoenix had it all arranged.
Draco had grunted and had got up, holding his head in between his hands, he had groaned in frustration. Since Granger's torture at his manor, he has been having this singular nightmare. Her aunt had a girl pinned to the ground in their living room. Her blood had soaked the carpet below. After each bout of the Curciatus curse, her hair had gradually started changing into waves of red. Weasley red. He had struggled to find an explanation behind this particular dream. Though halfway, he would shake himself off it. he was apprehensive and reluctant to delve any further. Indoctrinated in his father's beliefs, he still struggled to shrug off the dead man's lingering hold on his personal belief system.
The ministry officials had stormed into his small cell, soon after he had sat down to eat a modest breakfast. Some had snarled at him, and others had just watched him eat. Their head, perhaps some undersecretary of Kingsley had slid a heavy clipboard across the table. Draco had arched his brow at the poker-faced man.
"Save your antics Princeling, read that thoroughly, sign it and you shall have your a bit of freedom. Eat, drink, sleep. Do whatever after we leave you to yourself. Oh! And we will get our hands on your precious Godfather in no time, even if you don't blabber anything. It is a matter of time, and we have it on our side, from now on."
A magical farm somewhere obscure, like Wiltmorshire. Quite far away from Magical Britain, and definitely far away from Hogwarts. He had never been to the farm. But he did remember seeing a rather idyllic country scenery back in the manor. It was the prime attraction of the sunroom and he loved watching how the summer sun would roll over the magical paint, reflecting its hidden shades and making the painting breath. Just like those portraits, this painting too would come alive.
In the past few days, he had signed and read through legal documents. He had heard through whatever those high collared ministry legal aids had droned out near his ears. He knew he had to hold on to his dwindling patience. Or else, Azkaban was just an apparition away. He had no doubt several of those scowling Aurors would be too happy to escort him there. He was not having any of that.
A few days later, his breakfast tray that would simply appear at the foot of the rickety cot, had an empty potion vial, labeled in Snape's scrawling handwriting, placed on it, by the regular loaf and porridge. The moment he had realized the significance of it, someone invisible had snapped his fingers and the vial had exploded in his hand. He was glad to learn Snape had arrived, though none of the prisoners were allowed to see each other. In fact, he didn't have the knowledge of who else was among the other prisoners. It was sheer luck, none of the guards had informed the other captured deatheaters, or else he would have been long dead.
He had already signed the requisition form. He was prepared to go to the Ministry of Magic the very next day to get married under the watchful eyes of the Ministry officials. But to tell the truth, he wanted to flee. Live everything behind and hide from the magical world. He would not go all muggle, just stay away for a while.
Draco had finally met his godfather when they had been escorted to the Ministry. The man had simply nodded at him. But he had felt his presence in his mind.
Don't fret. Things have been taken care of. They will expect Potter to be here though.
And?
And what?
Nothing, I will figure the rest out.
This marriage thing…
They had the gale to rope you in as well.
Shut up! Listen, Greyback has some vicious plans. We need to work altogether. And All together would mean, whosoever is selected as your wife, ease off those differences, and work towards functioning as a team, are you following me?
Draco had gritted his teeth and had barked back in his mind; I am not my father!
That is still left to be proven to the other side, remember neither of us is off the hook, people will judge, people will abuse but we got to see past those. The War is still on, and we can not let Greyback have the last say!
Draco had seen Ginny Weasley and George Weasley enter the courtroom. They had walked up to Granger and Longbottom, the Gryfindor Know it all had been shooting daggers at him, but he had just shrugged. The chattering crowd around was already making him go mad. At least I can be thankful to Merlin. It is a relief to know she at least had one brother to watch over her. He had sneaked a glance or two to find the youngest Weasley sibling sitting ramrod straight. The surviving twin had hardly slept, he too sported signs of being stone drunk. Draco could hardly blame the man.
When they had called Granger's name, for a couple of moments, he had dreaded the fact that he was only second to the brain of the Golden trio in everything he could recall, apart from flying and playing Quidditch. He had tried not to gawk at the thought that Severus had been matched with the Know it all bushy head. He had whispered, "Good luck", to his godfather, when the man had stood up to walk up to the podium in front. Soon the first married couple had left the room.
The "process" as these cronies of the Ministry was referring to the couple sorting system was started once again. And moments later, it had blared "Draco Lucius Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley – compatibility percentage- 98.8%."
He could hardly make up his mind on whether to laugh, to reek or to dance like a mad man. Still, in shock, he had turned to look at his intended wife. She had turned and was staring at him as well. Blanched, and blotched, her eyes had gone wide with disbelief. Then she had screamed on top of her lungs. "I am not marrying that greasy ferret".
