They were promised redemption.
Her fingers trembled as they tugged back through long raven locks on the head that was bowed between her knees. The splattering of crimson across her sleeve was beginning to take on a rust tint that freckling her clothing and across her cheeks. She rocked on the ball of her foot as she perched on the edge of the mattress. Each shuddering breath shook her small frame, her movements reaching a fevered pace.
It was never supposed to turn out this way. He never agreed to this, none of them had. This was not what they signed up for.
"Pansy." The girl paid no mind. His voice was distant and distorted, warped as if he were underwater.
The mattress sunk under his weight as he cautiously came to her side. He smoothed his palm across her back in a circular motion, a feeble attempt at comfort, but her sobbing only intensified with the contact. This was her third mission in the last month, third kill in the last month. Each one brought her closer and closer to the brink of instability. She was nearing the edge of the cliff and the slightest thing could send her hurling over the edge.
Really, who could really blame her?
"Pansy, it will all be alright. Think of it as just a bad dream, we are going to wake up one day, far from this prison" his voice was soft, how one would reassure a child.
He knew that words were not much, but he had to go through the motions. There needed to be some semblance of normalcy and comfort. She deserved that much.
Even if nothing could truly ease the pain.
"Easy for you to say," she muttered, her tone bitter as she choked back sobs.
"Look, we get through it," he continued to push on. "We always do. You have got to keep it together, you cannot let them see how this is effecting you."
His words caused her face to scrunch with a mixture of anger and panic. Pansy rose with a jolt as if shock, her voice reaching near hysteria as her fear turned into outrage.
"It's easy for you to be calm! When was the last time you took a life? When was the last time you even were out on a bloody mission?" The tears that had been swelling in her eyes now freely flowed over her cheeks.
Silence fell between them as he shook his head in dismay, unable to even recall the last time. He gave a small shrug of his shoulders at his loss for words.
Had it really been that long?
His time had started being allocated to training the new recruits or simple missions that consisted of information gathering or showing off the impressive abilities that Unity had at their disposal when it came to humanitarian acts. Providing water and shelter to a hurricane ravaged coastal town was in no way a comparison to an assassination hit on someone. The emotional turmoil each task caused were polar opposites.
When was the last time he was on a kill mission?
"Exactly! Ever since you became her little… her little pet, you haven't had to lift a damn finger! You get to just sit back and—"
"Pansy, enough!" His voice cut through, loud and booming as he rose to his feet.
Recently, the Overseer had taken to favoring him, but that was of no fault of his own. He felt nothing for the woman, just complete indifference. However, he knew better than to just cast away the kindness and benefits that came with such recognition from the one that called the shots.
He knew that Pansy's anger was misplaced.
Draco took a steadying breath, scrubbing his palms over his face.
This was just the anger speaking, the rolling after effect of her shock.
Words would not be enough.
"No, Draco! It wasn't supposed to be like this! Save the children! Feed the hungry! Save the world! Wasn't that what we were promised? Now look at us!"
She was right.
But what could they do?
"It wasn't supposed to be like this."
They were promised redemption.
Recruiting the poor, damaged souls that the war had left in its wake had been a simple task. Many were orphaned or lost, having been on the losing side of the war. There was nothing left to believe in, no home to return to, no families that would embrace them and welcome them back into the world. Instead they were recruited under the false pretense that they would do something to make a difference in the world, a positive, good for once. Misled, unfortunate souls that were offered the change for redemption, anything that would distance them from the stigma their family names carried. A secret organization that had been working with the direct assistance of the Ministry rose with the intention of doing good.
It always starts so innocently, doesn't it?
Perhaps in the beginning, it even had been. The missions that were handed to the new recruits made an obvious difference in the world they lived in as they began to rebuild what the war had ravaged and lent assistance to those that were displaced. An opportunity arose to reach out to the muggles, branding the organization as a charity. The tasks were never easy, but the impact on the lives of those without magic had a rippling effect. Stop a wildfire, minimize the impact of a collapsing building or natural disaster, bring resources to those without the ability or location to get them themselves: food, water, shelter. Simple things for the recruits and their magical capabilities, but an impactful feat and astounding to muggles.
They were heralded as heroes, and, bloody hell, did it feel good to be on the right side for once.
The limitation to what the wizards could do was seemingly endless and with it rose the trust and faith that muggles put in them. Everyone wants to feel like a hero, and they were practically superheroes. They were doing good and making huge strides for humanity as a whole.
They would bring Unity to all, muggle or wizard.
But with power, comes the opportunity for corruption.
The muggles had trusted Unity with their greatest scientific advancements, the latest and most powerful technology. Anything that would help the organization that promised aid and world peace was given without a second thought. Technology, materials, food, transportation.
Weapons.
Corruption always seems to blindside those that are in the thicket of it, but it started so simple and escalated. Make someone disappear. Make a death look like an accident. Pin a murder on another organization. What started as making the world a better place spun into making it a better place if you had the resources to pay for Unity's services.
Unity had a seemingly endless supply of new recruits that were dying to join such a revolutionary and noble cause. Those in the wizarding world were unaware of what Unity did with its power, and it was strictly forbidden to talk about organization tasks with those that were not permitted to know.
With that endless supply of new recruits came the ability to terminate anyone that no longer agreed with what the organization did, dared to expose its secrets, or that was considered a flight risk.
And now, they could be considered a flight risk.
Hell, anyone with enough common sense to see through the false facade and knew that what they were doing wasn't good was a flight risk.
He was a flight risk.
Draco reached out to take Pansy's hands in his own, her fingertips trembling in his grasp.
"Pansy, we will not die here. We will get out, I just need you to be strong. Please, hold on a little longer for me," his voice wavered, pleading with her.
She pursed her lips together as if lost in thought. After a moment of silence, she shook her head and sighed in defeat. "What other option do I even have?"
Slowly as if the slightest movement could startle her, Draco circled her shoulders with his arms and pulled her flush against his chest.. "You are the only family I have left. I cannot lose you too. Not like this."
Her face buried into the space between his pectoral muscles, hiding the tears that now freely flowed. Each sob wracked her body and her fingers curled into the back of his sweater for any semblance of stability.
They had lost so much since the start for the war. Neither of them had parents or a home to go back to, all of which had either perished during the war or Unity had "relocated for their safety." There was no guarantee that if they did escape that those they did have would be alive when they found them.
A booming voice cut over the loudspeaker. "Agent 42 please report for briefing."
Pansy pulled back from Draco, her pupils wide and fingers clutching him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There had not been any scheduled missions for him on the docket. Why would he be sent now? Where? For what purpose?
An alarm seemed to sound in Pansy's head, her panicked gaze flicking from the speaker back up to him again as if at any moment it might sound that a mistake had been made.. The tremble returned to her hold.
The last missions she had been on had seemed to wear down on her and the thought of one of them not returning seemed to be a conversation they circled lately.
He was never called off on a mission before knowing what it was and being able to reassure her that it was something simple, some meaningless escort task or package delivery. She knew this. She knew this was not normal.
"I will be right back for you. Stay safe." He leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head.
Pansy had become the little sister that Draco never had after they joined Unity. Each mission apart was a risk for them to come back to the other missing. A risk that they would be alone in the hell they had gotten themselves into. A risk that he would continue to lose more and more of himself.
Draco freed himself from her grasp and stepped back. Pansy remained rooted to the spot, the worry evident in her face and the tears continuing to freefall.
"It's okay. I promise. I will be right back."
With a final look back, Draco gathered his coat from the hook by the door and left.
While Unity itself always looked so lush with living walls of plants that speckled the white walls with life, fountains with enchanted statues that would interact with those that sat at the edge of the marble ledge near them, and tasteful yet vibrantly colored art deco themed furniture that accented the otherwise clean area, the mission rooms were a stark contrast.
Stepping into the room, the floor gave way from paneled wood flooring to sterile and clinical tile. Where the common areas of Unity always had a calming and relaxing scent of lemon and lavender, the mission rooms were scrubbed to eliminate all evidence of what may have transpired between the four walls and left a pungent overwhelming stench so strong it made his stomach roll. A large one way mirror was inset in metal panes that made up the walls so as to allow those in the room to be observed under the scrutinizing gaze of their Overseer. A single metal table with two equally uncomfortable chairs sat in the center of the room with a blindingly bright overhead light that always felt like it belonged in an interrogation room.
And perhaps that's what it was used for with some of the missions.
There were no other agents on the mission. The room was devoid of all other beings: just him and the guard to brief and then send him to the mission location.
The agent reached across the table to flip the manila folder open. An in motion photograph was haphazardly tossed into the folder atop the other papers that detailed his mission. A young male stood awkwardly in frame, a nervous smile plastered on his face as he stared ahead. This lasted a few seconds before he seemed to look off camera for instruction and the smile dropped to a serious and tightlipped expression. His almond hair was pulled loosely back and flipped as his head turned in the repeated image.
Draco would recognize any of his trainees anywhere.
"What would be the purpose of this mission?" Draco kept his tone merely inquisitive despite the worry that was beginning to bubble beneath the surface.
"A simple retrieval. Dissertation. AWOL. We are uncertain, but you know him best."
The guard dropped a duffel bag onto the metal table. With a fluid motion, he unzipped it to expose what was inside: running shoes, multiple pairs of jeans, nondescript solid black shirts, and, of course and most importantly, Draco's wand.
"We are under the assumption this will be a multi-day stake out. You will go alone and return with the target alive and unharmed." The guard spoke matter of fact and without a hint of emotion.
Draco glanced up to him in an attempt to read his face for any expression. Both the missing trainee and the guard were brought in together. Both trained under his wing. When you have so little left, you tend to cling to those around you and form close-knit bonds.
But there was no worry, no concern, no hope. Nothing to give away what he knew that Draco did not.
Draco gave a solemn nod and picked up the folder, tucking it into the duffel bag before slinging it over his shoulder. The guard set a cloth down on the table, carefully unwrapping the portkey.
With the barest of touches, Draco felt the familiar pull of the portkey activating and his surroundings swirled out of sight.