Twenty minutes later Draco sat in the infirmary, watching Madam Pomfrey grab her wand and press it to the back of his skull. He winced slightly, feeling a knot forming where he'd struck his head while being tossed into that box.
"Reducio Doleo," she muttered, her magic instantly reducing the bump on his head to nothing.
Raising his eyes, he spied the two wizards who, along with Dumbledore, had saved him. One was Remus Lupin, and the other was a woman he remembered seeing briefly at the Quidditch Match. They were huddled with the headmaster and Professor Snape several feet away. Draco couldn't hear what they were saying, but he was determined to find out.
"Since you seem to know what's going on, perhaps you'd be so good as to share your information?" he said loudly, instantly silencing their talk.
The woman stared uncertainly at Draco, then at Lupin. Dumbledore nodded and Snape smiled slightly as he regarded his protégé.
Draco frowned at the woman in violet robes, "I know you! You were at the match earlier today."
Elizabeth nodded, "I was watching you. We…"
She stopped speaking, looking to Dumbledore. The headmaster regarded Draco gravely.
"You are, doubtless, anxious to know what information we have on your attackers, Mr. Malfoy. I'm afraid their exact identities must wait till the person we captured is questioned. But I can tell you that you're a pawn in a game of revenge."
Draco stared at the headmaster, feeling shocked and a bit affronted. Who on earth would dare to attack him? Who would be willing to incur the wrath of Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater who stood high in Lord Voldemort's favor?
"What are you talking about? Who's game?" he snapped, his gray eyes narrowing.
The Headmaster moved towards him, raising a hand for silence, "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, but I must ask for your patience. I would like to question our captive first before I tell you anything. I have only half formed speculations at this point. I have already owled your father about this, and the Ministry as well. They have dispatched an Auror and he'll be here before midnight."
Draco scowled, his gaze dropping to the floor as he felt frustration bubble through him at the thought of being kept ignorant while his life was being plotted against by unknown forces. Patience was not a virtue he'd ever cultivated, but he also knew better than to argue the point with the headmaster.
"Severus," the headmaster said suddenly, "would you be so good as to double check that the Prefects on patrol duty are avoiding the doors to the dungeon where our captive is being held? I don't want them charmed into setting him free."
Snape nodded, a slight frown on his face, and left. Draco felt some of his strength leave with the Potions Master. Snape had met them at the oak doors as Draco had been brought in by Dumbledore and the others, and had stood by him the whole time. Like a concerned father might do, Draco thought.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, it's very important that you tell us everything they told you. It might mean nothing, but then again…" the headmaster gestured expansively.
Draco was about to reply when the door to the infirmary burst open and Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed in, heading straight for Lupin.
"Professor, we heard," Harry began breathlessly, "Are you all right?"
"It's alright Harry, please calm down." Lupin smiled reassuringly at them.
Both Hermione and Ron began questioning him and Elizabeth at the same time, their expressions showing much concern. Remus laughed and called for calmness again, while Draco stared incredulously at the trio.
"But what happened?" Hermione asked, still frowning with worry.
"Oh nothing," Draco spat, "I was nearly kidnapped by Vampires, but it happens all the time. No need to worry about me!"
The trio turned with surprise to Draco, not having noticed him before that moment because of their concern for Lupin and his companion.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked, frowning. Before Draco could think of something scathing enough to say, the Headmaster stepped in.
"I think we can do without any more conflict this evening," He said quietly, "and I believe I gave strict orders for students to remain in their common rooms. I'm afraid this will cost Gryffindor five points."
Their mouths dropped and they shuffled guiltily, while Draco smiled in satisfaction. Take that, you worms! He thought gleefully. Ron scowled poisonously at Draco.
Dumbledore turned to Draco once more, "You were about to say, Mr. Malfoy?"
"The one who grabbed me just said he liked the fact that I was struggling," he replied, "The man with the long braids asked if they were sure that I was the one, and the woman said I fit the description of fairly tall, gray eyes, and…"
"Go on." The headmaster prompted.
"And blond hair," he concluded, not wanting for anything to repeat what she'd said about his hair in front of his Gryffindor enemies. "Then the man with the braids said that we should go because 'they might be watching', and then you came. That was all."
The headmaster nodded, "Thank you Mr. Malfoy. That was most helpful."
Oh yes, Draco thought, how? He looked around at everyone in the room. The trio were frowning with various degrees of puzzlement, Lupin was regarding him with a curious mixture of concern and sadness, making Draco wonder what he knew. And the woman in the violet robes wore a somewhat hooded expression. Draco's gaze rested on her for a moment, struck by the air of mystery about her. She seemed to be looking right through him with her strange, greenish-brown eyes, and Draco felt a slight chill snake through him. The headmaster's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Now, if that is all, the four of you may return to your common rooms."
Draco stood to go, pausing for a moment to watch the trio take their leave of Lupin and the woman, and then headed out the door.
He walked slowly along the corridor, pondering the events of the day. Two attempts on his life in as many weeks, or so it felt. Time was beginning to lose its meaning for him with all the confusion and fear he'd been suffering. Was it that way for Potter, he wondered? Did the days just start to melt together as he worried if Voldemort was going to strike, combined with studies, exams, and people he cared about? People like the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He felt a ripple of frustration and envy as he recalled how they'd burst into the infirmary, heading straight for their favorite professor. They hadn't seen anything except their hero until Draco had spoken. Is that what it's like when you care about someone? He wondered. Do you lose all sense of what's around you, focusing only on the person in question, their safety, their health and well being? It didn't sound pleasant. How could a person function like that? How could they live their own life if they were too busy being wrapped up in someone else's?
Then he thought of Ginny Weasley, with her fiery red hair, flashing eyes, and sharp tongue. He had a feeling it wouldn't be too difficult to get wrapped up in her. He paused at the top of the staircase leading to the great Hall, staring thoughtfully down into the shadows. Ginny had been another distraction so far this term, and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Every time he passed her in the corridors he felt an unsettling warmth rush through him. If he happened to look into her eyes, then the feeling was more like drowning. Hell, he was already wrapped up in her considering how she seemed to commandeer the majority of his thoughts whether she was present or not! But he didn't resent it, not really. She was beautiful, courageous, intelligent, funny, honest, everything that was genuine. Everything he'd never thought could exist in a person, because he'd judged everyone by his father's example. Those who took power when it came their way were strong, and those kind and compassionate souls of the world like Dumbledore were idiots. But he'd seen and experienced Ginny's strength, her own brand of power. It was the power to charm a man with her soft eyes and honest wit, to wrap his soul around her fingers with a bold determination that charged unflinchingly to his rescue. Was he being an idiot? What did he really know about her, after all? Did it matter?
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Dumbledore had proven far from weak himself, and wasn't the headmaster's presence at Hogwarts the one thing that had kept Voldemort away? His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the infirmary door open and close, and heard the trios' voices approaching the stairs. Draco backed more into the shadows, straining to hear what they were talking about.
"…doesn't make sense," Harry was saying, "Why would anyone want to kidnap Malfoy? His family's right in with Voldemort," Draco saw Ron cringe at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "It would be like crossing the Dark Lord himself! Lucius Malfoy would use every resource he has to get his son back, and it would more than likely start some kind of internal war."
"I'm sure that's pretty common among that lot," Hermione sniffed, "But I see what you mean. To the person starting all of this it would be a bad move, and more likely to get them on you-know-who's bad side."
"Might be someone trying to bring them down," Ron said thoughtfully, "You know, on our side, but we don't know about them."
"If that's the case, Weasley," Malfoy drawled, "Don't you think the Dumbledore would know about?"
They stopped in shock as Draco stepped from the shadows, smiling coldly.
"What do you want?" Ron growled.
"Well, Weasley, I have an aversion to being plotted against so I thought I might grill someone who has any sort of information." Not strictly true, but Draco thought he might as well take advantage of this opportunity.
"An aversion to being plotted against?" Harry laughed, "You'd better leave the school then, Malfoy, because there are probably a hundred plots against you being planned on any given day!"
"Eat dung, Potter!" Draco glared, "I want to know what information you do have, because I don't like the idea of being attacked by the undead and I know the three of you always have an ear to the ground."
Ron grinned, "Try asking nicely Malfoy, and we'll think about it."
Draco squirmed inwardly. He should have known this would be nothing to them. Just because they had been talking about him didn't mean they were actually concerned, it just meant they were puzzled. The reality was that they couldn't care less if he was torn to pieces by werewolf or drained dry by a vampire. They hated him almost as much as he'd always hated them, so what was the use of even asking? It sounded like he was begging them for information, and that was humiliating.
"Fine," he said, turning on his heel and began running down the stairs. He hadn't gone more than a quarter of the way, though, when he heard Harry call him.
"Malfoy, wait," Harry ran down the steps behind him, and Draco turned in surprise. Of the three of them, he'd actually always thought that Hermione would be the one to offer him sympathy if he'd ever needed it. Not out of any liking for him but because she was the one who stuck most rigidly to honor. But here was Potter, coming after him and looking at him with an almost grudging concern. It was a little bizarre. He narrowed his eyes as Harry regarded him and waited to see what the scarred moron had to say.
Harry took a deep breath before speaking, "We don't know exactly what's going on, but we know from Professor Lupin that a student at Hogwarts is rumored to be the weak spot against a traitor. But who the traitor is, and whom he betrayed, we don't know. Dumbledore might, but if you knew him the way we do, then you'd know he isn't joking when he says he'll get back to you when he has more information."
A traitor, Draco thought. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Use your brain, Malfoy." Hermione said in exasperation as she walked up behind Harry, "Who is the only student that's been overtly attacked so far? You! Obviously you're someone's weak link. The question is whose?"
"I know that Granger. That's what I meant!" Draco snapped irritably.
"Your family has a lot of enemies," Ron observed drily as he also came over to them, "But can you think of anyone who hates your dad enough to risk you-know-who's wrath?"
Draco stared at them, "No. Everyone who's anyone associates my father with Voldemort's favor," Draco took a perverse pleasure in seeing Ron cringe again, "You're right about our having a lot of enemies, but it would be the height of idiocy to attempt anything on me. Like you said, my dad would take care of it. And in case you hadn't noticed, I don't have too many friends that I could be associated with, which makes that whole 'weak link' argument pretty facetious."
"Not really," Harry said thoughtfully, "what if they're talking about your father?"
Draco stared in stunned amazement at Harry, "All right, I think the last Quidditch match must've knocked your brain loose! Why in the world would my father betray Voldemort? We owe him everything, or so he says every time he lectures me on why I have to join- ."
Draco abruptly fell silent, but too late. It was the trio's turn to stare. Draco hadn't meant for that last bit to slip out, but he couldn't take it back now. Harry's eyes narrowed, and Ron frowned in confusion, suddenly blurting; "What, you don't want to?"
Draco couldn't stop the flush that spread over his face. "Nevermind," he snapped, "Thanks for the information. See you around."
Once again, Draco turned on his heel and ran, leaving Ron mumbling, "He's nutters! Or maybe we are for telling him anything."
Draco tuned out their voices, running down the stairs into the dungeons. He passed the Slytherin Prefect and didn't hear the boy's greeting because his head was buzzing with more questions than ever. Who on earth would want to kidnap him, especially for revenge? Voldemort was a master of revenge, and even if Draco were to be killed, he doubted his father would shed too many tears. There was too much that was dead in Lucius Malfoy to feel anything like real grief, even for the loss of his son. Draco knew this as clearly as if he'd been told it, and it was somewhat painful to realize that he wouldn't be missed much, except by his mother. But he now knew that he felt just as little in the way of affection towards his father, so he didn't try to pretend it bothered him much. And Voldemort wouldn't care too much either, in the end. Using his considerable influence and resources to do anything on Draco's behalf would merely be a favor to his most valued follower, and a favor Lucius would have to repay a hundred times over. It was always that way with the Dark Lord. He scrathes your back, then you scratch, rub, sand down, and polish his. The mental image that the thought conjured up made Draco chortle reflexively.
His smile disappeared a moment later, though, when he remembered his life was in danger. Someone wanted to either kidnap or kill him. Perhaps both. His only hope now was to stay alert and rely on the headmaster's protection, a thought that was almost repugnant to his haughty Malfoy nature.
The only thing worse would be to have to rely on Potter.