Draco was exhausted. The Dark Lord had been trying to throw them all into the most horrendous tasks and it, per usual, became Dracos only mission to keep the others away from the worst parts of being a death eater.
He was already broken and tarnished, there was not a single bit of light left in him, although he wasn't sure there truly was any there to start with. He was wrecked both emotionally and physically, his soul had long since been corrupted by this war.
So he no longer tried to save himself, instead he would manoeuvre plans so as Pansy, Blaise and Theo wouldn't need to destroy their souls as he had, that they might remain somewhat intact in order for them to to be able to look in the mirror and see the same kind of monster that reflected back in him. He would diligently carry out the executions that the Dark Lord ordered, would Occlude himself into an almost coma so he could stare them straight in the eyes as he watched the life leave their bodies the way his master so relished in watching him do. Then carry on down the line of one victim after the other, striking them all down with Avadas without batting an eyelid.
After he would come home and drink until he couldn't string a coherent thought together, and only then could he drop the occlumency enough to fall asleep. No one was aware that he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and having to dart to the bathroom as the bile rose in his throat. No one was aware that he had put numerous holes in the walls with his fists, or that he would shout and break things just to get some of that pent up anger and fear and the deep pain that felt like it was corroding his heart out of his system. He hid himself behind a one way silencing charm, forever remaining the cool and collected Malfoy he was supposed to be to the only ones left that he loved.
He would protect them at all costs, and for a long time now he had come to terms with the fact that he would happily die for them because without them there was nothing left to live for.
It had been days since he had managed more than two hours sleep a night, and weeks since he had had a singular day off from feeling that bloody mark on his arm burn as he was summoned. The only thing keeping him going was the fact that he knew the more he was called on the easier it was to stay in Voldemort's trusted inner circle and that, in turn, made keeping the others safe easier.
Just as he finished repairing the damaged dresser, courtesy of his most recent outburst that morning, he felt the radiating pain spread from his left forearm all the way round his body. It was like molten lava was running through every vein and burning every tiny capillary in his body.
Time to play the ever loyal servant yet again.
As he made his way towards the floo he was relieved to see Luna and Blaise sitting on the floor of the living room with pages sprawled across the coffee table, if Blaise was still working on translations he hadn't been summoned which ticked one worry off his list.
The night before they had had a breakthrough with their research, it was almost impossible to tell what was being said between Lovegood and Granger, their excitement causing their voices to reach decibels that Draco was almost certain was beyond the average humans range. Thankfully Blaise was on hand to share with those not blessed with bat-like hearing that they had found a very promising ritual which appeared to be detailed in Nordic Runes.
He had been shocked that Granger hadn't offered to help with the translation, especially given some of the very odd, uncommon runes that were in the book. However he also hadn't seen her touch a book since she had been here, nor had she hovered over anyone else during research like she would have during their school years. All he could gather from her stay here so far was that she was absolutely nothing like her younger self, in fact she was downright Slytherin these days.
Why did his mind always drift back to blooming Granger for Merlin's sake!
"Morning Draco, you should come and see what we've got so far!" Lovegood was smiling at him looking like she didn't have a care in the world, sometimes he would love to be as oblivious as she was.
"Can't, duty calls" He replied, motioning towards his arm which was still sending shooting pains around his body, "The others all staying?" He directed at Blaise.
"Everyone else is still asleep…" Blaises concern over Draco having to leave yet again was evident on his face, he had been away more than home recently and he knew his friends were worried.
"Right then, keep yourselves out of trouble." He said before opening up the floo, "And close this behind me, I'll apparate back."
He took one last deep breath before he stepped into the green flames, fully aware delaying any longer would only make this day worse.
"You must push the most mundane to the front of your mind, make it look like the most pressing things you have to offer up are which girl takes your fancy, what your plans are for the next few days, your last quidditch match, anything but what you truly care about."
His mothers words ran through his mind as Draco sat to one side of Voldemort, trying to look like he was paying attention to what was going on around the table.
"If he can see what matters to you he will take it Draco, he will take and take and take until you care for nothing and feel like you have nothing but him. He will find your weaknesses and he will exploit them."
Following his mothers advice had gotten progressively easier with practice, that was until he acquired his three new house guests. Before they came along he could think about their recent card games, how much he wanted to be home making coffee after a long mission, or some meaningless gossip Theo had told him. His life outside of 'work' was, to be completely honest, extremely boring and extremely good fodder for occlumency. That was until his card games also had Longbottom joining in, or Theos gossip had Lovegood adding her two cents, or his morning coffee was interrupted by Granger stumbling into the kitchen with her hair practically blocking out the morning sunlight.
Now he struggled to find things that were meaningless enough to push to the forefront of his thoughts. Things that wouldn't get himself, and everyone else he lived with killed.
"He has me son, because I was too young and too foolish and too proud to ask your mother a long time ago to help me. He knows that you and your mother will always be my first priority, he knows I would lose everything including my name to keep you both safe. Do not let him sink his claws into you like he has me."
His fathers countless warnings were engraved in his mind, and the fear of losing the last shreds of family he had made him dredge up painful memories he would rather keep buried. He thought of his parents taking him to Diagon the summer before his first year at Hogwarts, of his father teaching him how to fly, of his mother talking through every rose type so planted in the gardens. The memories chipped away at the small pieces of his heart that were still there, he missed them so much, but these thoughts were the only ones he had that would stop his friends sharing their same demise.
"Dracoooo?" His aunt cooed at him, and he realised he had no idea what had been being said.
"Aunt Bella"
"Do you agree?" It took everything inside him not to tense up, completely unaware of what she was asking, and not wanting to show one ounce of the truth that he couldn't care less what these bunch of lunatics were plotting now.
He gathered himself, squared his shoulders and went to his default answer "If the Dark Lord does." That one sentence had saved him on countless occasions, and judging by the absolutely horrifying smile on both Bellatrix and Voldemort's faces it would suffice yet again.
"It's settled then, the young Malfoy will lead the mission. Anyone important I want alive and in the dungeons this evening, kill the rest." Voldemort hissed, "Those allocated remain behind so he can run through all the necessary details and pay attention to young Mr Malfoy, I am sure you know I do not take kindly to failure."
With that the nose-less maniac swept from the table followed by all his little minions bar four, who all sat studying Draco. He shifted in his seat and was unbelievably relieved to see the folder in front of him, with any luck he wouldn't have to try to figure out what the hell he was supposed to be doing from quizzing the rest of them.
As he scanned over what turned out to be a rather detailed surveillance record he realised that somehow he was in charge of what was really a task normally given to grunts, the only reason he was brought in to lead was due to the red headed males detailed in the observations.
Bloody Weasleys.
He was willing to bet his vault the two redheads would be the twins, apparently they were so joined at the hip they didn't seem to realise travelling together painted a large target over them. It wasn't the first time they had been spotted, but it was the first it had been on such a regular basis. They were getting sloppy out of desperation, travelling to the same places for supply runs and using basic muggle disguises. Clearly their polyjuice supply was running low, or perhaps the swot currently living in his home had been the one who had brewed it for them.
This far into the war there was no doubt who the main players in the Order were, and from the bodies he had seen the majority of the ones that had any form of intelligence were dead or as good as. Snape would be the only one left who could decently brew, and one person with one arm was hardly enough to be supplying all those people with their potions. Especially since all of it would have to be done by hand, without the use of magic to monitor, stir or place a stasis on anything that was being brewed.
Neither the less their foolishness had put Draco in the position where he was being sent to capture and kill them, not only that but if they were caught in the area it would heighten further the search for the Orders camp. He rubbed at his temples, feeling the beginnings of a migraine.
"So where are we off to boss?" It was the smaller of the two of Greyback's pups that spoke. Clever really, for the Dark Lord to pick out two werewolves this close to the passing of the full moon. They'd still have their heightened senses, and their speed and strength would make it almost impossible for anyone to escape them. The two others were some up and coming Death Eaters which Draco hadn't cared to learn the names of, one was built like a brick building and the other a scrawny little thing with untamed dirty blonde hair. The group, unfortunately for Draco, were actually a decent gathering of talent which would mean misleading them would be far more difficult than if he had been assigned some other idiots.
It was a rash decision, something Draco very much disliked to do, but he jotted down coordinates and handed them round the group.
"You heard what the Dark Lord said, we bring in anyone important and kill the rest. We leave now, and we wait for them to appear at their usual time. I want to be in and out quickly, understand?" He addressed them, and satisfied with their nods of agreement dawned his mask before heading out of the wards to apparate.
The decision to 'accidentally' copy the coordinates down incorrectly was probably going to get him killed, he was just glad the others weren't around to be dragged into this mess too.