A/N: Yes, I know, it's been a dreadfully long time since I last updated. I got so tied up in school, marching band, and that one Puerto Rican kid (sorry Lorelei) that I had no time to write. Not to mention the fact that my laptop crashed and I had to send it off for repair. Anyroad, I've had this and Chapter 5 written for a long time now, and I could've sworn I'd already updated. My apologies.
DISCLAIMER: Writing another disclaimer: The Harry Potter book series and all of its characters and aspects belong in whole to a Ms. J.K. Rowling… who killed off Padfoot… *cries*
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
CHAPTER FOUR: Will She Understand?
Cornelius Fudge strode into the empty Hogwarts dungeon where Lucius Malfoy was being held. He had to be taken to Azkaban for performing an Unforgivable Curse on a Hogwarts student. Fudge opened his mouth as if to speak, but Lucius cut him off.
"I am Lucius Malfoy, not any ordinary mudblood half-wit, and I refuse to be put into prison!" he roared at the Minister of Magic.
"I have no choice but to incarcerate you, Mr. Malfoy. It is because of your own actions that you are to be sent to Azkaban." Fudge calmly replied, somehow with a cheery look on his face despite the gloom of the situation. He pulled out his wand to bind Malfoy's wrists together and prepare him for the journey. Lucius jumped forward and slapped his wrist hard, causing the wand to fly across the room and land with a clank in the corner.
"You—you can't make me go there. You know how miserable it is. I will pay you! You can have ½ of the entire Malfoy fortune if you just let me go!!! I can't do it… My only son is—he's dead! And being held in Azkaban for the rest of my life will drive me totally mad!!! Please, Cornelius." Malfoy pleaded, breaking down into tears. He was on his knees at the feet of the Minister of Magic, begging for mercy that he knew he would not receive.
"I'm sorry, Lucius, but it's my duty to put you away for what you did. You not only performed one of the Unforgivable Curses, but you performed it on an innocent student. But, I think I may be able to cut you a deal with some of the dementors there. No guarantees, though. And the price is 25,000 Galleons." Fudge said, adding the last part in a whisper after checking to see that nobody was around.
"Anything you want, sir," Malfoy said, wiping tears childishly from his face with the back of his sleeve. He crawled over to the corner where Fudge's wand had landed, picked it up, wiped the dust from it with a corner of his robes, and stood to return it to its owner. Cornelius Fudge did not seem to notice the appalling change in Malfoy's behavior.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````*````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Lucius carefully stepped off the broomstick that Fudge had given him (enchanted to make sure Lucius made it to Azkaban). Fudge had landed a bit before him, and was standing nearby with his broom. There was a noticeably large moneybag on the ground next to him. Just outside the gates of the great Wizard prison Azkaban, he summoned the dementors.
After a few minutes of something that was supposed to resemble conversation with three of the dementors, Fudge walked back over to where Malfoy stood. "You're lucky. They're willing to make the deal. But you must not let anybody know that you're getting special treatment from them, do you understand?" he said to Malfoy in a hushed voice.
Lucius replied, "Thank you so much Cornelius. I promise nobody'll ever suspect a thing." He paused, and added, "Please make sure that Draco has, well, has a proper burial and all that jazz, take as much money as you need. And, I never thought I'd admit this, but I trust that Dumbledore will see that it's taken care of, so make sure he knows of my requests." Tears were, once again, clouding over his vision.
"Dumbledore? Well, I guess… Whatever you say, Lucius. It shall be done," Cornelius said, a bit puzzled, "and I guess this is farewell." Fudge shifted impatiently where he stood, and a tear somehow managed to squeeze out the corner of Lucius's eye and find its way to his newly unshaven chin.
"Err, farewell, Cornelius." He said. Under his breath, he added a few more words. "Farewell, Draco, my son." He put his hands to his heart as if to steady it or rip it out, unable to decide between the two.
After a brief pause, The Minister of Magic turned the teary-eyed Lucius Malfoy over to the Azkaban dementors, and watched as they took him away. Then, he attached the moneybag to the extra broom by a sling, newly enchanted it to follow him, and mounted his own broom. Kicking off from the ground, he took off into the stormy sky, never stopping to look back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Poppy Pomfrey returned from Professor Snape's office carrying a phial of antidote. Personally, she was in no hurry to return Malfoy back to his original state because of how quiet and peaceful the Hospital Wing had been lately, but her more sensible side overcame this.
The matron stood over Draco's bed with the oddly shaped phial, popped the cork off, and slowly poured the antidote down the seemingly dead boy's throat. He made a kind of gurgling, yawning noise, and slowly regained consciousness. Madam Pomfrey let out the breath she had been holding like a small sigh of relief.
She noted that Adria was still sleeping peacefully in her bunk. Pomfrey had given her a Draught to let her sleep while the potions for the soreness of her body (from Lucius Malfoy's cursing her) took effect. She had no idea what pain Adria had been through, but had sense enough to know that a good numbing sleep would help.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````*````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Draco sat up in his bed, stretched as if he'd just awoken, and then turned to look over to Adria. "Madam Pomfrey?" he beckoned the matron. She half-ran into the room, all of a fluster, and, realising everything was all right, shook her head at Malfoy.
"What is it, dear?" she asked, trying to be polite even though she'd just run there for no reason.
"Erm, is Adria alright? Why haven't you given her the antidote?" Draco asked, puzzled. He, of course, had no idea as to what went on previously.
"Don't you—No, of course you don't remember. Well, I think I may want Albus—Professor Dumbledore to explain it all to you, but she's just taking a much-needed rest. I'll make sure that Dumbledore knows you're awake," she explained soothingly. She bid him to lie back down and rest for a bit, and set off to visit the Headmaster.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````*````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
"Albus, young Malfoy has regained consciousness, and wishes to hear about the recent happenings. I thought it best that you speak to him…." Madam Pomfrey began to Dumbledore. He turned to her and raised a slivery-white eyebrow.
"Is he in proper shape right now?" he asked the matron.
"Well, I think he needs a bite to eat and maybe a bit more rest, but, other than that, he's doing quite well," Pomfrey explained to him cheerily. She absent-mindedly fiddled with a loose thread on her apron.
"See to it that he is fed well, and I will come speak to him in a bit, more or less. That is, if you see it fit, Poppy?" Professor Dumbledore told her quietly. She nodded. He gave her a smile and gestured toward the door. She gave another small nod of approval, and left the office.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````*````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Draco Malfoy sat up in his bed to eat the warm meal Madam Pomfrey had brought for him. It wasn't until right then, with his fork halfway between his plate and face, that he noticed how hungry he was. He finished all of it quickly, drained his goblet of pumpkin juice, and placed the empty tray on the bedside table. Thoughtfully, he looked over to Adria's calm, peacefully sleeping face. 'Why won't she tell me what's happened to Adria?' He wondered. Unfortunately, the warm meal took a toll on him, and he was soon very sleepy. After lying in thought for a few minutes, he fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Draco woke two hours later, and realised that Professor Dumbledore was sitting in a chair next to his bed, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling tiles. Soon, Dumbledore noticed that Draco had been staring at him, and looked down to him.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked the tired-looking boy.
"I'm still a tad sleepy, but I'd rather know what's going on than sleep more," Draco replied, jolting out of his state of exhaustion. He sat up in his bed and looked the Headmaster straight in the eye, waiting for answers. After a few seconds of this silence, Professor Dumbledore began.
"As you know, your father arrived here, against my orders, with intentions to harm another Hogwarts student…." He started.
"Adria," Draco cut him off, with peculiar emptiness in his voice and eyes.
"Yes, we had suspected he wanted to hurt Adria, and possibly you, so we knew proper actions and precautions had to be taken. We saw no other way than to give both of you the Draught of Living Death, because even though it was dangerous, it seemed to be the plan that would work best. I called Madam Pomfrey to give you the potions as soon as your father arrived. Thanks to Professor Snape, the Draughts worked very well, and the both of you appeared stone dead. He arrived, and appeared slightly heartbroken at the sight of you, but halfway between grievings, he turned on Miss Aenigma, as we thought he would." Dumbledore explained.
"Well, what did he do to Adria? And where is he?" Draco asked hurriedly. Dumbledore noted the look of concern that appeared with the former question, and the way it wiped away with the latter.
"I guess it's best that you know. Your father performed an Unforgivable Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, on dear Adria, and has been sent away to Azkaban for it," Professor Dumbledore inclined his head in sympathy. Draco sat there frozen in time, but snapped back again.
"The--the… unimaginable pain, on my poor Adria? How could he? I—I'll kill the man, I will! My poor Adria, are you alright?" he yelled, rushing over to Adria's bed. Dumbledore noticed the tears that were forming in Draco's eyes, and how he did not brush them away as was characteristic of him.
Draco, in fear, took Adria by the shoulders and shook her violently, trying to wake her up. After a bit of this, her eyes opened, and there was a confused look on her face. "What… what is it, Draco?" she asked, half asleep.
"Just tell me that you're alright. Father's gone now. I can take care of you now, but just tell me that you're alright. I can't—the Cruciatus Curse—are you okay?" Draco sputtered worriedly. Adria yawned, and then spoke.
"I think I'm okay, although I'm really sore from all that… Yes, I'm fine. I am so glad to see you awake…" Adria said, trying to massage the back of her neck with her hand. Draco threw his arms around her, totally unaware that Professor Dumbledore was still standing there. She suddenly was washed over with a look of concern and sympathy. "Draco, your father, they've—they've taken him away… to Azkaban…" Adria began; anticipating his response, which she thought would be desolate.
"I know," Draco responded, "It's a bit nice, isn't it?" He stared off to space for a moment, with a look of cheerful content on his face. With this, Professor Dumbledore slipped away in the background. Adria was only slightly taken aback by Draco's comment, but did not blame him. She actually felt sympathy for him, having spent all the years of his life living with that horrid man.
"Well, I guess if you are happy with it…." Adria trailed off. Finally, both of them were feeling rested, and almost ready to return to classes, of course, after the holiday. They still had a good two weeks until classes resumed, and Madam Pomfrey was sure to release them soon.
The following morning, Draco and Adria were both obviously feeling well. They played wizard chess, talked by the window, and walked around the Hospital Wing numerous times, never calling for Madam Pomfrey, except occasionally stopping to ask her when they'd be free to go. Each time, they were given no answer.
They were sitting on a bed playing wizard chess together a while before dinner, when Madam Pomfrey came to speak with them. She smiled sweetly as she spoke, "I've decided that the both of you are well enough to leave." Adria opened her mouth to begin thanking her, but Pomfrey cut her off. "But, if either of you feel even the least bit weak or just plain odd, you will notify me at once, correct?" it was more of a demand than a question.
"Of course," Draco said, but Adria just nodded her head calmly. On the chessboard, Draco's knight continued to struggle with Adria's queen, but appeared to be losing.
"Well, then, you are free to go." Madam Pomfrey stated primly. Adria gave her a warm smile as thanks. Both of them gathered their things and took them back to the dungeons, returning with just enough time to make it to the Great Hall for dinner.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````*````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Draco and Adria sat together on a couch in the Slytherin Common Room, close to the fire that roared, warm and luminous, in the hearth. Draco remembered that in a time and place like this, they would normally be snogging, but since the recent happenings, he had a different perspective on his relationship with Adria. He knew inside that Adria felt the same way about him. They had suffered greatly together, a kind of price for denying the real meaning of love, but all the same, coming to find it.
Draco continued to sit, thinking about what he should do or say to Adria. He came to the realisation at that exact moment that what he shared with Adria was real love. It was not the same as anything he'd ever experienced. Draco knew it was right for him to give up on all else and risk everything for their love. 'It just doesn't matter anymore. Neither does Pansy. Both of them combined don't have what sweet Adria has. It's not just snogging by the fire anymore. This is love. I can't continue like this. If the truth has to come out anyway, it might as well be through me,' Draco thought, wrinkling his forehead. 'But what will it do to her? How can I say it? Will she understand?'