Chapter 61

Draco leaned on the fireplace mantle in the drawing room and closed his eyes, considerably weakened. His body still had muscle and joint pain from the sustained Cruciatus Curses he suffered after the prisoner escape. It would take a couple more days before he healed completely. His mother and father were sitting on the couch together, listening halfheartedly to his aunt lecture them about how there must be a traitor amongst the ranks.

He knew the Dark Lord suspected a spy. Having his drink spiked had scared the shit out of him, and he didn't know if he, Pansy, Vince and Greg were removed from suspicion or not. Draco was terrified he'd be found out eventually. It didn't seem that Aunt Bella suspected him, and she wasn't testing how he reacted to her claims. In fact, she seemed completely oblivious to him, his parents and their pain as she ranted.

His father appeared haggard and Draco felt like he had just been torn apart and put back together. Even his mother, who never had a hair out of place, seemed as if she hadn't slept well last night. He nearly smiled at the thought. Only extended torture by the Dark Lord himself could get Narcissa Malfoy to look like she hadn't had a solid eight hours' rest.

He wondered when Aunt Bella would get bored and just go home. His parents gave the occasional noncommittal reply or encouraging remark. The Dark Lord wasn't here. Draco had no idea where he went during the days he was absent from the Manor and he didn't care. So long as he was gone.

Draco knew he should be more terrified of his aunt's spy accusations, but his body hurt too much. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, he heard shouting and struggling footsteps echoing down the corridor. He groaned inwardly. Nothing good could come of that unless it would get Aunt Bella out of the Manor.

One could hope.

His aunt turned around, waiting to see who would enter.

"What is this?" his father sneered, annoyed that none of them could get back to recovering in their beds any time soon.

To his horror, he saw Hermione, the Weasel and a bloated faced Potter being walked to their drawing room by Greyback, Scabior, Pansy and two other snatchers.

His blood froze in his veins.

How the bloody fuck did they get caught?

"We've caught Harry Potter!" Greyback snarled, stomping in, apparently unaffected by the Dark Lord's torture. Being a werewolf must enable him to recover more quickly from the Cruciatus Curse.

Despite their pain, his parents eagerly rose up from the sofa to inspect the Trio, each with hands bound behind them. Hermione was visibly terrified, and injured from a recent battle, wincing from the manhandling. Draco could tell she was doing everything in her power not to look in his direction.

He had to help. But how?

Pothead appeared to have been hit with a Stinging Jinx, and his father inspected the tosser's head for the telltale lightning scar. They weren't sure it was really Boy Wonder. If they weren't sure, then they wouldn't summon the Dark Lord. At least, not right away.

He wondered if Hermione jinxed Potter on purpose to disguise him. She probably did, and he took a moment to appreciate her cleverness and quick thinking. Not discovering Potter's identify was Hermione's only chance at surviving. They had to keep the Dark Lord away.

And then what?

Draco's mind raced furiously as he considered the situation. Even if his parents and Pansy fought with him, and there was no way in hell they would, they still had four Snatchers against them, with the Malfoys considerably weakened. Aunt Bella was a force to be reckoned with all on her own. She could probably take on all three Malfoys by herself now that they were recovering from torture.

Fighting was out of the question. The Trio were bound and had their wands confiscated anyway.

His aunt was yelling at Greyback not to call the Dark Lord unless he was certain it was Potter. Draco eyed the interaction waiting for an opportunity when his father walked over.

"Draco." His eye twitched, probably residual tremors from the Cruciatus. "If we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv –"

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback called over to them menacingly.

His father responded to the werewolf, and then discussed details of Harry's face, coming to the conclusion that it was a Stinging Jinx. Draco was momentarily relieved that the focus wasn't on him anymore but his father turned back to him.

"Well, Draco?"

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. If Draco said yes, the Dark Lord would come and kill Hermione and her wankers. If he said no, they'd be thrown in the dungeons and tortured, maybe killed anyway depending on his aunt's mood. He had to stall for time.

"I can't — I can't be sure," Draco stammered, thinking through his options.

None. There were no options. He was failing her.

Pansy's eyes snapped to his from across the room, wide with terror. She knew who they were, and didn't understand why Draco didn't identify them right away.

The Dark Lord was searching for spies, and she knew it.

Maybe she even suspected the spy was Draco now.

His father inspected Pothead's scar and waved him over. "Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Draco exhaled and slowly walked over, hoping his terror wasn't written on his face. Hermione stared at the ground, probably not trusting herself to look at him. His fingers tightened around his wand. He wanted to take her and Apparate away more than anything, but at what cost?

Either Hermione dies or his parents die. He couldn't make a choice like that.

Greyback shoved Scarface directly in front of him. Draco met his eyes. Bright green, filled with defiant determination. He didn't understand how the Chosen Git wasn't frightened out of his wits. Draco was fucking terrified.

Stall for time, stall for time.

He made a show of inspecting Potter's distorted face, glaring right back at him.

"I don't know," he said.

Boy Wonder's eyes widened in surprise and his father's face fell. Draco walked back toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate. He couldn't think of anything else to buy them more time. They weren't considered important now. Maybe they'd be tossed in the dungeons and he could set them free later.

His aunt watched the whole exchange impatiently, tapping her foot while his parents discussed the necessity of being certain before calling the Dark Lord. Draco eyed them nervously.

His father's face lit up. "The Parkinson girl!"

Everyone rounded on Pansy, who was doing her best to appear bored with the whole scene. Heart pounding furiously in his chest, he tried to silently communicate with her not to contradict his answer. He knew they had more loyalty to each other than the Dark Lord. Pansy not attacking him after he hexed Marcus Flint at Wembley Stadium was proof of that, but this was different. It was potential suicide.

If they were caught in a lie, they'd be tortured and killed.

And Pansy had no idea what Draco was playing at.

After being asked about Potter's identity she repeated Draco's answer with a shrug. Despite his nearly overwhelming gratitude towards his friend, he tried to remain indifferent while figuring out what to do next. Everyone was yelling and anxiety slowly tightened around his chest.

Heart pounding furiously, Draco frantically searched the room for ideas. What to do, what to do, what the FUCK could he even do?

"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled Greyback.

The werewolf reached out and tugged Hermione close to his body. Draco ground his teeth, eyeing the werewolf's hands around her arm.

"Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

Fuck. His mother must have remembered her from Madam Malkins'. He helplessly watched Greyback turn to her in interest while abject terror spread through him.

His mother's blue eyes implored him, glassy and exhausted. Hands still twitching from torture, she clutched his upper arm. She was desperate to be in the Dark Lord's good graces again, as was his father.

He gazed into Hermione's eyes. They were wide with terror, knowing she'd been identified.

"I... maybe..." he answered, trying to keep up the pretense of not knowing. Hermione turned her head to the side and his mother eyed him suspiciously, wondering why he wasn't confirming what she knew.

Claiming ignorance wasn't good enough. They already knew she was Muggle-born. That could be a death sentence in and of itself regardless of whether or not the Dark Lord came. Or she'd be given to Greyback.

She'd definitely be given to Greyback.

Draco repressed a shudder at the thought of what the werewolf would do. He'd use her and kill her. Draco needed to take control of the situation. If Hermione was the Mudblood, that was better than being a Mudblood. At least for now. Until he could think of something else.

"Yeah," he added, more firmly.

Stall for time.

Hermione turned to him, shocked and betrayed. He felt sick to his stomach, not knowing how to tell her this was the only thing he could think of to buy her more time. Potter and the Weasel glared murderously at him.

Aunt Bella turned to Pansy, who glanced questioningly at Draco. He subtly gave her one curt nod and she confirmed it was the Mudblood they were looking for. Pansy must be confused by his about-face and he was grateful to his childhood friend for standing by him.

Hermione was momentarily saved from rape and death.

Now what?

Draco's palms started to sweat and he inconspicuously rubbed them on his trousers.

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted his father, striding towards them. "It's them, Potter's friends – Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name –?"

Shit.

Draco turned around and leaned against the fireplace. He couldn't think with Hermione staring at him like that. She didn't understand what he was trying to do. He didn't know what he was trying to do either. He raked his hand through his hair.

Think. Think. Think.

"Draco!" his father repeated, more urgently.

Digging his fingers into his palms, he pondered his answer. His father knew the Weasel anyway. He'd create more problems by denying it.

"Yeah," he said, his back to the Trio. "It could be."

Cold dread seeped through his bones. He didn't like where this was headed. That was as good as confirming that the third was Potter. What the hell could he do? He turned his body slightly so he could still see what was going on while averting his gaze from Hermione's face.

His eyes met Pansy's. Her posture was disaffected, but he knew she was confused as she glared back at him.

Time. He needed more time.

Everyone started talking at once. Arguing over whether or not it was really Potter, arguing over whether or not they should contact the Dark Lord, arguing over who would contact the Dark Lord. Greyback demanded gold for his efforts. While his aunt taunted him, Scabior extracted a sword from Hermione's beaded bag.

The metal flashed with the light from the chandelier, drawing everyone's gaze and his Aunt suddenly went ballistic, screaming about the sword.

The Snatchers started fighting over who should get the sword as reward and his aunt stunned Scabior, taking the sword for herself. Draco tightened his grip on his wand, wondering if a fight would break out. What he could even do if one did.

Bellatrix rounded on the other Snatchers, daring them to defy her. He eyed them, now fearful of his aunt, and looked for an opportunity. Pansy gracefully took two steps to the side in his direction, removing herself from the conflict.

"Where did you find this sword?" she whispered loudly to Hermione, brandishing it in her face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

Hermione's eyes snapped back to his for the briefest of seconds.

Snape was a spy. He must be. And he knew about those objects she was looking for.

"We just found it!" Hermione stammered.

Draco had to admire her courage in standing up to his aunt. Few could.

He had never seen Bellatrix terrified, but she was now, and started muttering to herself, pacing back and forth. Draco tried to hear what she was saying. She was worried the Dark Lord would find out about something. Likely those objects. With a perverse sense of satisfaction, he realized that his aunt, always above reproach, must be in trouble. He had never seen her more unhinged and she began shrieking orders at everyone. She was frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet.

His mother tensed next to him, but said nothing.

"Bring the Mudblood here!"

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure and smelled Hermione's hair with an evil smile. She winced in revulsion and Draco cracked his knuckles as cold fury spread through him.

The idiot duo screamed at his aunt to take them instead.

"Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" Greyback crooned as he pushed Hermione towards Bellatrix. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, ginger?"

Draco dug his fingers into his palms again to stop himself from shaking. He couldn't allow… he'd seen what that creature did to women. Pansy was watching him and he turned his face to the side.

Fucking Pansy.

Potter and the Weasel struggled violently against the Snatchers holding them but bound by ropes, their struggles were ineffectual.

Bellatrix hit the Weasel across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she threatened. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book."

The blood pounded in Draco's head as he watched the scene unfurl in front of him with growing horror. His aunt withdrew a knife from her robes and cut Hermione free, dragging her by the hair to the center of the room while she cried in pain, trying to tear his aunt's hands off of her.

Draco knew exactly what would happen in the next few seconds if he didn't do something. His aunt drew her wand and pinned Hermione to the ground with a charm, arms and legs spread.

His stomach lurched. It was going to happen. What could he do?

"I'm going to ask you again!" his aunt hissed, wand pointed down towards Hermione's chest. "Where did you get this sword? Where?"

His heart thudded loudly in his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

"We found it!" Hermione pleaded, voice trembling. "We found it – PLEASE!"

This was his worst nightmare. He clenched and unclenched his fists uselessly, unsure of what to do. He had to stop where this was going.

Right. Now.

Draco strode over to his aunt.

"Take them to the dungeons, Draco," Aunt Bella motioned to Potter and the Weasel, screaming Hermione's name at the top of their lungs. "We'll deal with them later."

With a cold, cruel smile he replied, "I want to do it."

Hermione gaped up at him in horror. Bile rose in his throat, but he kept the sinister grin on his face as he gazed down at her. His aunt slowly turned to him with a surprised and evil smile of her own. "Ickle Draco, are you finally growing up?"

He raised an eyebrow and sneered down at Hermione. "She was always a bitch in school."

"But…" Hermione started to cry. She couldn't understand what he was doing, and his insides twisted violently at the thought of what he was going to do to her.

Bellatrix directed the Snatchers to throw Potter and the Weasel into the dungeons. The idiot duo shouted death threats at him while Greyback and another Snatcher dragged them down to the dungeon with the other prisoners.

Pansy watched him, impassive but obviously confused by this further shift in behavior.

Draco stood over Hermione and pointed his wand at her, gazing into her hazel eyes, glassy with tears of betrayal.

"No!" she whimpered, tears now streaming down the sides of her face. "Draco! Please, don't!"

His heart ached for her, but he couldn't hesitate.

"Scream for me, love," he said softly with a wink. Pleading that she understood. Praying that his aunt wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

His aunt cackled at his taunting and curled her fingers around his upper arm, staring down at Hermione with a twisted grin. He paused so it would look like he was summoning his hatred.

"Draco," Hermione tried pleading again. "You don't have to–"

"Crucio!"

He felt the brief icy presence of dark magic that accompanied the curse, but it was muted. Hermione's body jerked when the red flash of light hit her body. She released a choked gasp of surprise which quickly morphed into a shriek of agony, but no one noticed her delayed reaction. Draco exhaled through his teeth as he held the curse and masked his relief, knowing that she understood now.

He halted the curse after several seconds.

Hermione gasped for air, whimpering and pleading for him to stop. Bellatrix cackled and dug her fingers into his bicep.

"You are a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix hissed next to his ear with a smile. "You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

"Crucio!"

Hermione shrieked again with an arch of her back, this time exactly when the curse hit. Her pain seemed so real Draco that nearly faltered.

"HERMIONE!" The Weasel's scream echoed from the dungeons.

Draco didn't know what to do next. His mind raced while she screamed. How long could he keep this up? Would they give up and throw her in the dungeons? That was probably the best course of action.

Draco released the curse and Hermione lay limp and trembling, crying for him to stop.

"What else did you take? What else have you got?" his aunt continued, breathing heavily next to him.

What else?

Draco's eyes snapped to Hermione's. Despite the pain he was inflicting on her, she didn't miss that bit of information either. Draco had been right all along. The cup must be in her vault. It was the only explanation for Bellatrix's terror.

"Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

She released Draco's arm and approached Hermione with the blade.

No.

Before his aunt could cut her, Draco cast the Cruciatus again and again, trying to mimic the time held and pauses which he used during interrogations. Hermione sobbed and arched her back as she screamed.

"How did you get into my vault?" his aunt screamed, pointing her knife at her. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

He released the curse. Would his aunt leave? Would she need time to plan? Time to think? Maybe this was the way to get her out of the Manor. If his aunt were gone, Hermione's chances of survival would be infinitely better.

"What goblin? I don't know who that is!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault… It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"

Draco made to curse Hermione again but stopped at the sound of his father's voice.

"But we can find out easily!" his father suggested. "Greyback, go fetch the goblin."

Greyback grumbled and went down to the dungeons. He had all their wands. Draco suddenly had the insane hope that Pothead and Weasel would be able to overpower him. But they were bound with ropes. It would be impossible.

Draco scanned the room, reassessing the situation. His mother was standing behind the couch, digging her fingers into the cushion, clearly unnerved from Hermione's screaming. Pansy had slowly made her way over to Draco, standing several paces behind him, and the snatchers were eyeing each other uneasily.

His father was anxiously awaiting Greyback's return and his aunt sneered down at Hermione, fingering her blade while they waited. Draco's heart raced in his chest.

He had to get Bellatrix out of the Manor. But how?

"If I find out you're lying to me, little Mudblood," she flicked her curls over her shoulder with a flourish of her hand, "I'll cut out your entrails and make you eat them."

Draco averted his eyes, unable to look at the sheer terror on her face.

But suddenly with a crack, Potter and the Weasel appeared with Dobby, the goblin, Eloise Midgen and Ollivander. Everyone turned to them in shock, ready to attack, but Dobby hexed the chandelier. He and his aunt dove to the side and Draco, hoping he was unnoticed, propelled Hermione out of its way before it crashed to the floor with a cacophony of shattered glass.

The next few seconds were filled with the blur of flashing lights and a series of crashes, explosions and yelling. He didn't know how Pothead and the Weasel managed to retrieve their wands from Greyback but they used the element of surprise to gain the advantage, quickly incapacitating the Snatchers while Pansy stayed by Draco's side. Hexes flew back and forth and they dove for cover behind the couch with his parents. Bright lights shooting over his head, Draco joined his parents and Pansy fighting from behind the couch while their furniture got blasted to bits and the windows shattered. He halfheartedly aimed a few curses in the Trio's direction when they all Disapparated away with a crack.

Heart thundering furiously, he inhaled a deep, shuddering breath.

Safe.

She was safe.

He turned to his mother, who was wide eyed in shock. His father looked terrified. Pillow feathers wafted about in the air and silently descended to the floor. The quiet following the raging battle of only a few seconds ago made his ears ring, and his shoulders sagged in relief.

Wandless and panting, Draco surveyed the destroyed drawing room. Pieces of glass were everywhere; wooden furniture was blasted apart, and his aunt stood in the middle of it all, silent with rage.

He couldn't believe it. The Trio were caught. Outnumbered. Brought to the Dark Lord's den where Aunt Bella was ready to torture and kill them all. And then, not only did they get out unscathed, but the bloody Gryffindors rescued the remaining prisoners.

And now they knew where the Hufflepuff Cup was.

Un-fucking-believable.

Draco shook his head at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

The silence didn't last much longer because Aunt Bella started screaming again. He allowed himself a painful sigh of relief and fell back to sit on the floor next to his crouching parents, wincing at the aches in his body.

Pansy eyed him as if she'd never seen him before, but said nothing. His aunt yelled at no one in particular, slowly drawing Pansy's dazed stare away from him.

From what he could gather from his aunt's ranting, the Dark Lord would not be hearing about this.

Aunt Bella certainly liked to dish it out, but she couldn't take it.

ooooooooooooooooo

Mary eyed Hermione shrewdly, completing her diagnostic. "You were never Crucio'd. Why did they tell me you were Crucio'd for over ten minutes? You have no symptoms."

Hermione watched Cho and Terry, busy healing Eloise and Ollivander, and then turned to face Mary's suspicious glare. "I was. But the caster wasn't very good."

After she had seen Draco at the summer party, cloaked in his identity as pure-blood aristocrat, a completely different person from who she had learned to love over the past year, she had wondered what he was like as a Death Eater. Now she had seen, and understood how he was able to spy for the Order so convincingly.

He was, in a word, terrifying.

Bellatrix had her restrained on the floor, unable to move. And despite still recovering from the Cruciatus Curse, Draco gazed down on her with pure, unadulterated evil in his steely grey eyes… and tortured her. Hermione wouldn't ever forget the sinister smile he shared with his aunt before they turned to stare down at her, relishing in what would happen next.

Hermione hadn't understood what he was trying to do at the time. First he denied knowing who Harry was, obviously a lie, then he confirmed her identity. Even more surprising was Pansy playing along with him.

Hermione's fear had been real as she gaped in horror at the end of Draco's wand. In that moment, she thought she had lost him. She wondered if his use of Unforgivable Curses had pushed him pass some sort of threshold into darkness. There was no hint of the love they shared in his cold, cruel eyes. Everything that they had experienced together was gone.

She lost him.

He was a Death Eater. Truly one of them.

Draco's voice was soft and menacing as his lips curled upwards. Bellatrix clutched his upper arm in anticipation. He winked, taunting her, and then the curse hit.

It felt like a full body muscle cramp. Her limbs hurt like hell and she screamed from the pain. But she knew at once that it wasn't a true Cruciatus Curse without ever having experienced it before. Thanks to his quick thinking, Draco had temporarily saved her from Bellatrix.

And so, Hermione screamed for him, just like he told her to.

"A Death Eater couldn't cast an effective Cruciatus Curse on Undesirable Number Two?" Mary's voice was scornful, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. The Healer put her hand on her hip and leaned to the side.

"No," Hermione answered, and refused to elaborate further.

"Your spy?" The older woman sighed impatiently when Hermione didn't answer. "How much pain do you have now?"

Hermione sat up on the bed and winced. Her entire body hurt, but she had no doubt she'd be in terrible condition if it wasn't for Draco performing the curse. She didn't feel any worse than after a particular grueling session of combat training.

"It's manageable, it just feels like I pulled several muscles."

Mary walked over to the cabinet and returned with two vials filled with light blue potion.

"Quarter vial twice a day for the next three days. If you don't need it on the third day bring the potion back, we're on a tight budget."

Hermione knew.

"You should be fine for combat training after taking the potion."

"Thanks, Mary."

The older witch regarded her with considerably less animosity than she usually did. "It's because of you they're all back?"

Honestly, what was it she thought Hermione did all day? "And Harry and Ron. And the spy." Hermione stared at her pointedly, unable to keep from rubbing it in. Mary knew anyway. "Whose implant you removed."

Mary ignored her comment about the implant. "And the Portkey evacuation plan," she pressed. "That was also you."

"Someone else got the funding for it and Remus was responsible for the evacuation plan itself."

"That's not what I meant," Mary clarified. "For months you've been holed up in that lab making and repurposing Portkeys during your free time." Mary stared at her curiously. "What else do you do?"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her aching lower back. "Not enough."

With one last, thoughtful glance, Mary returned to help Terry and Cho with Eloise. The eagles flying in the paintings of Ravenclaw Tower were giving her a headache so she stared down at the vial of pain potion.

Not enough, indeed.

Now she had a bank heist to plan.

Chapter end notes:

Some dialogue and passages were taken directly from the Deathly Hallows.

Next chapter: The prisoners are back! The Order has a party! Yaaaaaaay! Do you guys trust me that this will be a fluff chapter?