A/N: The following is an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for years. It is only now that I've dedicated time to write it all down.
Any mistakes are my own and I don't own the characters used.
Some dialogue in this chapter was taken out of HPatDH.
This is my first published work so reviews and comments are appreciated. I post first on AO3 so follow me there too and get early access to new chapters of Adrift in Time. Updated every two weeks on Saturday!
I love you guys, enjoy!

March 31, 1998

The muffled yells were the first things he heard. They ricocheted through his head like spells reflecting off the shield of a protego charm. And they could only mean one thing. They had been found. Draco stepped out of the library and headed down the long, ornate hallway towards the drawing room. The Manor's ambiance eerily quiet as most of the Death Eaters were on separate missions for the Dark Lord. Various whispers from the portraits on the walls sliced through his thoughts and Draco wished they would just shut up as he neared the set of double doors.

His heart was pounding in his ears like the pulsating warmth of a fire, quickly melting whatever cold exterior he'd tried to put up. Books snapped shut and were put into shelves high up in his mind. Out of reach from any prying eyes. Himself included. He focused on getting rid of any trace of camaraderie or friendship (not that there was much, to begin with) between himself and the trio that he was sure lay on the other side of the door. Draco scoured his mind for any possible weakness; each time he found one he'd place it on a page and bind it to a book only to then secure it on the shelf just like Severus had been teaching him for weeks. His occlumency had been improving over the last month and although he still faltered, he needed to keep on practicing. He needed to succeed. He needed to stay alive.

With his newly acquired blank stare and seemingly uncaring stance, he walked up to the heavy oak doors. He stilled for a moment; listening. Voices were trying to break free from the confines of the drawing room. Only hints of them carrying through to the other side of the doors. Fenir Greyback. Draco thought, hearing one in particular.

Just then, a pale faced Narcissa Malfoy stood at the entrance to the room and motioned him inside. His mother was the image of elegance and poise but the slight tremble in her hand betrayed her calm disposition.

Draco glided into the room with an air of faux confidence. Not that anyone could tell, too busy fretting over the trio in the middle of the room. His right arm was extended behind his mother, guiding her further into the room— keeping her safe— before stepping away with a quick and reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. Grey eyes met black ones as he stared at Fenir Greyback. Out of his peripheral, he could make out his father, Scabior, and a number of other prisoners tied together. However, he refused to focus on the three familiar figures to the right of the inquiring werewolf.

"Well, boy?" the werewolf asked in a way that made a shiver run down Draco's back. Greyback nodded towards the group and the boy had no choice but to behold them. And they looked horrid. The redhead was undoubtedly Weasley although the dirt on his face and clothing disguised him at least somewhat from those who hadn't lived alongside the boy for years. Not to mention the quickly forming bruise thanks to a nasty punch to the face. The blazing red hair, however, was much harder to conceal. The same could be said for Granger's own mane of hair. Although she looked more like herself than her two companions. But Potter— or at least who he believed to be the Boy-Who-Lived— on the other hand, had changed his appearance drastically. His face looked to be stung by a dozen bees and his black hair was longer, dirtier, and more disheveled than he'd ever seen. Distracting, but not enough to make him believe otherwise. These people were who they were looking for.

"Well, Draco?" His father said in an anxious tone. He turned around and met grey eyes to blue. To very impatient blue. Draco immediately turned back around to the subjects in question making eye contact with each, if at the very least for a second. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Of course, it is.

"I- I can't- I can't be sure," he replied. Greyback's snarl just threatening enough to make him back up a few steps, his mental shield faltering.

Focus, Draco. You're higher in His ranks than him. He cannot touch you. He thought of a book. He thought of a shelf. The blond opened his eyes (he couldn't recall closing them) and tried to focus on anything other than her amber eyes pleading, begging.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer," Lucius said and held out his arm to his son. His voice was getting harsher.

He's getting excited. This is all a game to him. Draco felt sick. Voldemort would be here soon and this little game would be over. He wasn't sure who the winner would be in that situation. Page. Thread. Book. Shelf. He cleared his throat and went to speak before his father cut him off again. This time whispering in his ear.

"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven."

Draco's eyes flashed over to his father. He's right. He will take this as a sign of compliance. Repentance. The living hell they'd had to live in for almost a year could certainly be forgotten if they turned them in. These people had almost gotten his father killed. Because of them, Voldemort was now in possession of his father's own wand. Their rank in His army had fallen because these "brave little Gryffindors" had decided to bring along some friends to what was meant to be an easy recovery mission for whatever the Dark Lord had needed from the Department of Mysteries. The few words exchanged between his father and Greyback were not of real importance to him and fell upon deaf ears. He wanted to survive this fucking war. He was a bloody Slytherin, damn it! And his self-preservation was of utmost importance to him.

Furthermore, Draco didn't even want to imagine what the Dark Lord would do to his family if they let Potter get away. Death would be the least of their worries then. Family was the most important thing to a Malfoy and he wouldn't jeopardize them because of the Boy-Who-Couldn't-Fucking-Die. Family always came first.

"…Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?" His father motioned for him to get closer to the trio. His steps were slow and steady as he followed the command. The blond looked them over as if analyzing them to be sure. In reality, he was trying to keep all of his books steady on the shelf. Compartmentalize. You can do this. He accidentally made eye contact with Granger. The books on his shelves toppled over. And that had to be the only reason for the sharp pang of guilt when he replied:

"Yes, that's him."

Draco stepped away from them to join his mother, avoiding eye contact with the three of them. Coward! A triumphant Lucius walked away from the group and was already pulling up his sleeve to summon the Dark Lord when the doors burst open once again. Draco didn't even have to turn to confirm who the newest addition to the drawing room was; the coldness in the air said it all.

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" a sharp voice called out. His aunt Bella stepped into the room with a twisted smile. Azkaban had not treated her kindly. Her hair was a raging mane crackling with magic, her grey eyes were wild, and her small frame and pale complexion were comparable to those of an inferi. She was utterly and perfectly terrifying. Just like she'd always been.

"We've caught Potter," Draco said, answering in lieu of his mother. He plastered an easy smile onto his face, trying to get rid of the witch's criticizing stare. But he knew that wouldn't happen. The Black family was known to be the toss of a coin between being batshit crazy or just plain cunning. Bellatrix, however, was both; and that fact alone is what made her so dangerous. Bella giggled and backed away to look at the trio all the better. She cocked her head, sighed, and licked her lips resembling a wolf eyeing three helpless rabbits.

"Potter? Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" His aunt peeled back her sleeve, proudly showing off the branding of Voldemort's servants. Wand outstretched. The Dark Mark twisted as it felt the magic just out of reach when Lucius's hand shot out and grabbed a hold of her wrist. The maneuver preventing Bella's wand from touching the Mark. She furiously turned around to face him. The fire in her eyes flashed dangerously and she tried to wrench free from his firm hold without much success.

"I was about to call him! I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority—"

"Your authority?" the black-haired witch cried with a laugh. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! Take your hand off me!" She sneered. Once again she pulled away from his father— this time she was victorious. Greyback cleared his throat and pointed out that his team was responsible for the capture of Harry Potter and his companions. Draco rolled his eyes. It was a complete mystery to him how the werewolf still didn't know how to keep his insufferable mouth shut. His point once again validated when he asked for compensation for completing the given task. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold?" Bella said, throwing a small knapsack which hit the werewolf's chest with a heavy thump.

"Draco, call Him," Lucius commanded. He hesitated. Eyes traveling over to his aunt in case any hexes were to be thrown his way. He saw her own grey irises stray away from him and he let out a long breath of relief. His wand was mere centimeters from his own Mark when she suddenly exploded.

"STOP!" his aunt shrieked. Draco froze, eyes wide. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!" Confused, the blond stashed his wand and followed her gaze until it landed upon Fenir Greyback— or rather what he had slung across his back. Bellatrix prowled closer to him, her wand pointed and her eyes flashing with anger and terror. Terror? Oh fuck. Draco could feel danger in the air, thick as the blood he knew was about ready to be spilled on his mother's nice Persian rug.

Bellatrix's long strides had her in front of Greyback in mere seconds. Draco pulled down his sleeve and straightened himself out. His eyes caught desperate amber before using all his willpower to turn away from her, focusing on his aunt.

"Give it to me," she demanded her wand digging into his throat.

"It's not yours, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it." Bellatrix snarled and a flash of red illuminated the room. A Snatcher fell to the floor.

Shit.

"Don't make me ask again, Fenir," she spat before sending out another stunning spell. The Snatcher closest to his mother toppled to the ground.

"Shit!" Draco muttered stepping in front of his mother, wand raised, ready to protect her from any more wayward spells. Another blazing red light shot out of Bellatrix's wand and a third Snatcher dropped with a thud. Scabior drew his own wand but was too late for his aunt had already yelled: "stupefy". The four men lay motionless on the floor while Bella's murderous eyes were trained on Fenir Greyback, forcing him to his knees. The interrogation was quick and fruitless: the Gryffindors had been the ones traveling with the sword.

"Draco, move this scum outside," his aunt commanded him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me." He paled.

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like that, Bellatrix," his mom furiously spat from behind him.

"Be quiet!" Bella shouted. "The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem." She took a deep breath. Her face relaxing into a smirk. "But, I think Draco needs a reminder of what is at risk," her voice got dangerously quiet and Draco blanched. Narcissa looked outraged.

"You will not hurt my son, Bella," his mother seethed.

"Cissy, he just needs to learn what he's expected to do," she replied with a pout. Malfoy's skin prickled at the manipulation. A smirk grew on Bellatrix's face as she turned back to the prisoners. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do," she motioned over to Greyback. The big werewolf making his way over when Narcissa's hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks.

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my—"

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" shrieked Bellatrix. She was starting to feel very irritable. Her black curls were sparking with fleeting magic and the air felt charged with the same. A spark shot out of her wand and scorched the carpet beneath her feet. Narcissa's gaze flickered down to the scorch mark before returning to her sister's crazed face.

"Take the prisoners to the cellar, Greyback." His mother complied.

Bellatrix's smile widened as she stepped even closer to the trio. She ran her wand through Granger's hair before grabbing a hold of the rope tying her wrists. "All except… except for the Mudblood." She pulled her away from the group and sliced the rope connecting her to the others with a thin, silver knife she drew from her robes.

Granger's jaw was tightly set. Bellatrix ran the knife down, tickling her throat. And while Granger shook, her stare never faltered from his aunt's face. Stubborn little witch. Damn Gryffindors. Draco subconsciously moved a little closer to the duo.

"No! You can have me. Please take me!" Weasley began struggling against Greyback's tight grip pleading for Bellatrix to reconsider. His aunt walked over to him before raising a hand and bringing it down across his face with a heavy blow. Blood trickled from the side of his newly parted lip. A nice addition to his bruised face. His blue gaze was hard and his mouth gathered in a tight frown.

"Don't worry," she said, suddenly grabbing and turning Granger around so her back was pressed against her. At this angle, the redhead could see both of them clearly. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. After all, Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book," Bella giggled and pushed the girl away sending her tumbling onto the floor. Unable to get up due to her bindings. "Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure but do nothing more to them— yet."

Greyback nodded and started guiding the prisoners downstairs. Draco could hear the yells and thrashes of the two thirds of the Gryffindor trio as they exited the room and started descending the stairs of the servant's corridor. He tried to avoid eye contact with the girl on the floor as he tried desperately to stuff everything back unto the pages of his books before placing them on the highest shelf. Again.

"Where did you get this sword?" Bellatrix asked Hermione. The girl was on the ground staring defiantly up at the witch. She didn't answer. Bellatrix frowned and tsked. She jumped on top of the girl and held her down. Her knife quickly cutting her free of her bindings before finding a place on the crook of her neck.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?!" Bella shrieked taking the knife and lightly nipping at her neck. Draco could see the beads of crimson blood forming even from where he stood.

"We found it— we found it— PLEASE!" the girl cried. Bellatrix grunted in frustration and stood up. In one fluid motion she took out her wand, aimed it at the girl, and shouted:

"CRUCIO!"

The most bloodcurdling scream came out of her throat. Draco could tell that she had shredded her vocal cords doing so. He also knew from personal experience with Bellatrix's work, that the more one fought against it, the more the curse took hold of you. And knowing her, she was fighting a hell of a lot.

Stupid girl. Just say where you got the bloody sword. He thought. His hands found his hair and dragged their way through it.

Bellatrix dropped the curse and ran both of her hands through her own matted hair in desperation. "You lying little Mudblood bitch! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" Her arm was raised once again but stopped short. His aunt frantically turned around searching for him. An idea evident in her wild eyes. "Draco, earn your place. You know what to do," she hissed.

Draco's eyes flew towards his aunt who in reply just arched a brow back at him. "What? Don't have the guts?" She taunted. Pages. Books. Shelves. Draco glared at her and straightened his back. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his hawthorn wand. With a steady hand, he aimed it at Granger before taking a deep breath. Books. Shelves. He hesitated. Blood pumping. Heart hammering the final nails on his coffin. Behind his wand, Hermione lay crying and shaking. Her shining, doe eyes wide and pleading.

"Please, Draco, I know you're better than this. Please don't," she whimpered. Draco closed his eyes. You have to mean it. You have to mean it. If you don't do this she'll get much worse from Bella. Mean it! "Draco, I'm begging you plea—"

"CRUCIO!" He yelled. She screamed. Bellatrix laughed.

"Oh, my dear nephew! Yes, make her suffer what she's done," Bella said gleefully. He wasn't sure how long he'd held the unforgivable for, but by the end, her screams were nothing more than hoarse, airy sounds coming from her throat. "What else did you take?" His aunt asked dangerously.

"N-nothing," Granger whispered. Wrong answer. Bella pounced, blocking the girl from Draco's sight. Grateful for the interruption, he turned away from the scene and took hold of the fireplace banister. He dug his nails into the cool granite, hoping it would simmer the rebellious fire inside him, as he heard Bellatrix yell again. He was shaking slightly and could see his father eyeing him disappointingly. Draco could only hear Bellatrix behind him. Half of him hoped Hermione had died and wouldn't have to suffer. The other half hoped for her to survive and help end this nightmare. He couldn't bear the uncertainty and turned around.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" A silent scream tore through her throat once again as she writhed and trashed on the floor. No answer came. His aunt threw her wand down and resumed her position on top of Hermione with the silver knife in hand.

Draco couldn't tear his eyes away from them. Bindings were coming undone. Pages were being torn out. There were books everywhere. He tried to put them all back together and on the shelves but it was useless. They were coming down too fast. He was drowning. He couldn't breathe. He gripped the banister as if it was his own, personal lifeboat. As if it could keep him afloat.

Bellatrix grabbed hold of a weak arm and held it in place with one hand while the other placed the tip on her forearm. "What else did you take?" She whispered dangerously. Granger shook her head. And although her mouth was moving, no words would come out. Bella dug the knife in and started to drag the blade downwards making a single line. This, however, was enough to pull a loud shriek from the girl and she started thrashing around underneath the crazed witch.

"Was it gold?" She made another cut.

"Maybe rubies?" She dragged the blade down again. A crooked "M" was now carved into her skin. Draco paled. This was too much. He looked up as Hermione screamed once again from the pain of the cursed blade. Each question with an unsatisfying answer earned her another cut.

Bellatrix took her time carving her until she had a lopsided "MUDBLOOD" written on her previously unblemished skin. Granger lay limp on the floor. Satisfied, Bellatrix got up and motioned to Greyback.

"Bring up the goblin. I need to check if the sword is real or not," she instructed. The werewolf nodded and started walking away. "And, Greyback," she called after him. "Take the Mudblood if you want her." A crude smile appeared on his face. Draco's eyes widened with understanding. He stepped forward to finally intervene when the door flung open and Weasley came barging in— a wand in his hand.

"NO!" He cried with his wand pointed at Bellatrix. "Expelliarmus!"

Bella's wand was sent flying into the hands of Potter who had followed close behind. "Stupefy!" He yelled and the beam of red light hit his father. Draco took a defensive stand and stared firing at Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco's own wand was raised and jets of lights flew directed at Potter. Family first. He could hear his mother dueling with another as he tried to fight off Potter. A beam of yellow came hurling towards him and he dove to the floor just before it hit him. He fired a "Sectumsempra!" Before putting up his own shield. The boy rolled over and used an armchair as cover before taking in the scene. Lucius was down on the floor, stunned. His mother was dueling with Potter while Greyback fought off Weasley. A jet of red light suddenly hit the werewolf square in the chest and he fell to the floor. Draco stood up and fired at the redhead, trying to prevent him from dueling his mother. He noticed Bellatrix kneel down next to Greyback's stunned body and pick up his wand before pointing it at the exhausted girl on the floor.

The rage in her eyes was overflowing when she yelled.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Hermione dropped to the floor like a rag doll. A scream tore from Weasley's throat as Harry stopped, looking stunned by what had just happened. No one moved. Narcissa brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she stared at the lifeless Gryffindor on the floor of her drawing room.

A small pop echoed throughout the room as his old house elf, Dobby, appeared in front of Potter. "Dobby has come to save Harry Potter, of course. Dobby will always save Harry Potter," he exclaimed before grabbing on to Weasley and Potter. Disappearing with a sympathetic glance at Draco. Bellatrix waved her wand sending a green light their way but they whirled away before it hit them. Nobody was quick enough to stop them. She screamed in frustration and stormed out of the room. Leaving Granger behind broken and bleeding on his mother's ornate, Persian rug.

Cold water hit his face. He could feel the drops that trickled down from his brow to his chin. But he could not feel the difference between the water he'd just splashed and the tears he'd been shedding in private. Draco stared his reflection in the eyes. His hair was disheveled from running his hands through so often, his eyes were red from crying, his face pale and haunted from seeing death in his own home. A feeling of disgust rose in his throat by just thinking about all the things he didn't do to stop it from happening. He furiously punched the mirror with all his might; shards of glass went flying everywhere. Small particles ended stuck in his skin, drawing up small beads of blood. Bright. Red. Blood. The same color as hers. He felt numb all over.

"Please, Draco, I know you're better than this. Please don't."

"Draco, I'm begging you plea—"

"CRUCIO"

She screamed.

The bile which rose in his throat went quickly into the sink. The boy wiped away the sick with the back of his hand before crumpling up on the floor. Draco shook like a leaf in a storm. Falling. Falling. Falling. And he supposed that the strain of the leaf was too much on the dam inside him, for it broke. He let the tears flow.

Like raindrops on a window, the tears raced down his face. One representing his anger. Another his fear. He didn't know which one would win. He didn't want to know. Draco let out a shaky breath in defeat. His books weren't binding. They were toppling from the shelf as soon as he'd place them. He was broken.

The pitiful reality of his situation got to him. He'd let an innocent person die. He'd let her die. But he also knew that even though he believed he was on the winning side of this war, there had to be something he could do to help. A way of repenting for what he'd done for the fate of the Wizarding World.

He needed to do something. Tell someone. Pages. Books. Shelves… He tried his hand at Occlumency once more, to no avail. Tornadoes were going rampant in his mind. Tearing out pages from his most treasured books. Compartmentalize- Severus. He needed to see his Godfather.