Figures cloaked in darkness surrounded her- wands raised- Severus' anguished face- an agonized cry that split the darkness- blood, there was blood everywhere-
Her eyes snapped open, and she was lying in her bed; her breath coming fast in her throat, a cold sweat coating her face and hands. In the pitch dark of the room, she could look out the window and see the stars, gleaming like eyes of some celestial being watching over her. The moon was behind the clouds, though she knew that it was full tonight.
I wonder where Remus is right now, she wondered idly, and then froze as she heard something moving in the darkness. What the?
Slowly, as the person drew nearer, she made out who it was, and almost made an exclamation. Seeing that she was awake, however, he motioned for her to remain still and quiet. Then he withdrew a small vial from his pocket, and slipped it into her hand before leaning down to whisper directions in her ear.
She nodded after he stood again, and then watched silently as he melted back into the shadows. Then, before he'd even left, she turned her thoughts to the vial and directions.
What an odd thing to do, she thought. Still, though, I trust him, and I guess I should do it. After all, it's not like there's anything else that I can do.
With that, she rolled out of bed and made her way into the bathroom. She noticed as she entered that a pearly light seemed to emanate from the chandelier, even though it wasn't on. So there was no need for her to turn on the lights; it would only serve to blind her to whatever could be seen through the window.
She turned on the water, and then pulled off her nightgown, tossing it unconcernedly onto the floor. Then she pulled at the cork that sealed the vial, struggling briefly with it. It popped out, and bounced off the wall, rolling into some darker corner.
Well, she though, hesitating, here goes nothing.
She looked at the pale orange liquid for another minute, trying to convince herself to do it. Then, feeling somewhat reckless, she tipped her head back and drank it all down.
As soon as she did so, a strange spinning sensation enveloped her. That's odd, she thought. When did I turn on the lights? It's so bright in here… but I never turned on the lights…
She didn't notice anything when the vial slipped from suddenly-numb fingers and shattered on the floor. She stood there, rocking, as she tried to shake off the strange feelings that crept over her.
Only after she hit the cool tile floor did she realize that she'd fallen. She couldn't feel the glass that cut her, or the warm water that washed over her foot as the water splashed out of the bath.
Slowly her thoughts became organized, and, with a stab of fear, noticed that she wasn't able to move voluntarily. And that she actually didn't have any feeling of heat or pain.
So she was alone, engulfed in her thoughts, with no possible escape except for sleep- and she couldn't sleep any more.
She lay back and let her thoughts fill her head, hoping that it would ease the passage of time; she had no way of knowing whether or not it did except for the amount of light that came through the window.
When the sun filled the chamber, she began to hear noises outside the bathroom. Though she couldn't be certain, she thought that it might be Draco, preparing some potion or other. So she tried to call out, to make some noise that would cause him to investigate.
She managed a low moan, which brought him running. When he saw her there, he stopped, unable to keep himself from laughing. "So," he said, "trying to escape, hmmm? Thought that you could get through my wards, did you?"
He knelt beside her, and, catching her eye, managed to convey, wordlessly, that this was part of the act that he kept up for the spies. Which meant that she must act the part of the prisoner again. She almost tried to roll her eyes in irritation, but then thought better of it. After all, he could just give her over to the tender care of his master.
His hands came into her range of sight and then disappeared again. Then she was moving, sitting up, and she realized that he was helping her sit up. He leaned her against the wall, and stepped away, presumably to turn off the water in the tub.
He returned a few moments later, and, seeing that her head was hanging, asked what was wrong.
She couldn't tell him, but he must have figured it out when she didn't make any visible attempt to respond. Bending over, he rested her chin on his palms and slowly leaned her head back until it touched the wall, and let go.
She had to close her eyes for a few moments so that she wouldn't see the room spinning crazily. When she opened them again, he was looking into her eyes with an almost stricken expression.
"Oh, a little too strong, then? I'm sorry, love; I was only trying to make sure it worked. Here-I can ease it a bit, but not much."
He pulled from an inner pocket a vial of a blood-red potion. Popping out the cork, he deftly tipped her head back and poured a few drops into her mouth. Then he let her head go as she began to spasm slightly with the searing heat that flooded through her, melting the ice in her bones.
With immense effort, she managed to look up at him, and a smile slowly spread across her face.
"Thank you" she whispered, her voice firm but soft. "That's much better."
"I know it is, but it's only temporary. In a few minutes, you will be just like you were. So before that happens, I want you to know that you have to believe that I won't hurt you or anything like that."
"What are you going to do?"
"I can't tell you that right now. It would put us both in too much danger. But trust me as best as you can."
He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, as though praying to a god. Than he picked up her nightgown and undergarments, and tossed them to her.
"Here," he stammered, turning a bit red. "You need to put these back on."
"I'll need some help, I think." She replied, turning red herself. "I'm not strong enough to stand up unaided, let alone dress myself."
They struggled for a bit, working together to get her dressed. As soon as she had drawn the nightgown over her head, he let go of her, and she slid down the wall back onto the floor. He turned his back to her, but before he did, she noticed that his cheeks were as deep crimson as her own must be.
She couldn't look at him; she was too embarrassed. What do you say to someone who's just helped you get dressed? She wondered, unsure of what to do. Do you thank them, or would that be too weird?
A few minutes passed, with each of them determinedly not looking at the other. It seems, she thought, almost wryly, as though we both believe that by not talking about it, it doesn't exist.
Draco startled her when he began to speak. "You will start feeling weaker soon, and then we will play the most dangerous game of all- the game of deception. And though I will say some things that will cause you to doubt me, please try to believe in me- and in yourself, for deciding to trust me. I shan't play you false."
He turned his eyes back to her, and she noticed that his face, which had been considerably paler, became flushed again. She could feel her own face becoming hot, and wished that there was some way to hide it. It's strange, blushing in front of him. I wonder why? She pondered this thought, glad to have something to think about other than the fact that he'd had to help her dress.
Then she became distracted by the loss of feeling and control in her body. A build up of frustration and fear and helplessness formed, making her dread the end results of the process. She couldn't help hating it, this thing that made her as weak as a babe. It just wasn't natural.
She noticed as each muscle group grew numb, and began trying to predict what would be next as a way to keep her mind off of the strangeness of the actual numbness. She wasn't very good at it, and became distracted by something that rose inside her- a feeling of hope, of love… and this made her relax a little. As she did so, she found that Draco was talking to her, trying to help her forget the sensation. She began to listen gratefully.
He talked of many things as he waited for the potion to re-gain its effect. He spoke of old friends, and of new ones; the activities of the Death Eaters and plans for things in the future. He listed names of recruiters, and told her tales of his childhood. And he updated her on the condition of his family.
It was here that she learned something that was important.
"My mother… well, she's all right," he was saying, "and clueless as usual. Pretends that she doesn't know what we're up to, as though we were just going out every night to play some silly game or something…
"I know that my cousin Bellatrix is rising in the ranks. She's bloodthirsty and damn ruthless. …Not that I ever thought her otherwise. She always was beastly, even when she was a bit younger and she'd play with me. Though that wasn't really play, now that I think of it. It was more like a kind of, well, gentle torture.
"And Father… well, he's dead. Murdered by his 'ol' mate who'd never hurt him for old time's sake'. I don't know what he did to get killed, but he did something really awful I'd guess. Not much gets the Dark Lord mad. …Though that botched job on Harry back at the World Cup nearly had a bunch of heads rolling, Father's included."
She stored that away. She'd think about it later, when thinking was all that she could do.
As her head fell against her chest again, she became aware that there was a puddle of something dark on the tile, and a sprinkling of shiny slivers of glass in and around it. What had been spilled there?
Then she remembered, in that moment of hitting the tile, the faint feeling of pain, and the knowledge that she had landed on shards of the glass vial.
She couldn't help wondering if the cuts had scabbed over, or if they were still bleeding through the nightgown. It would look strange for her to be taken to his master only to be betrayed by blood spilling through her nightgown.
"Come then. It's time we were off." Stated Draco, and leaning over, he scooped her body up into his arms. He bid her to close her eyes, and when she did so, she felt the telltale signs of movement; the swaying of her body against his as it rose and fell. They were off to find his master.