Chapter Three: Shattered Innocence
She found herself at the end of the hall wondering where the boy had gone when she heard his voice to the right. Turning around, there was a door that somehow her sharp eyes had missed before, and she turned the handle and pushed in, oblivious to the creaking hinges and the rays of violet light…
There was no other response from within the room, so Elaine cracked open the door farther and slipped a tiny foot in, then the other, taking careful steps as so not to alert any of the Malfoys. An odd little smile alighted on her face; she was exhilarated, for once, to look around and see. Seeing was not being dragged around and forcing one's eyes upon a sight, nor was it casting baleful gazes at a hateful object. Rather, it meant soaking in subtly delightful views, one of which was fluorescent purple beams of light emanating from a point in the center of the otherwise darkened room.
No curtains or drapes were blocking the sunlight simply because there were no windows. No person dragged her back simply because no one dared to venture so deep within the Malfoy Manor. And Elaine still ignored all instincts and pressed through the empty room void of life.
She was not foolhardy, nor stupid, but innocent enough to know no evil or harm. Instead of blanching with fright, her china features became flushed with anticipation of what could possibly be found in such a mysterious chamber, the likes of which she did not remember seeing the likes of before. Her hands groped for a handhold in the black stillness but found none, and she drew closer to the light.
A soft gasp left her lips as Elaine gazed upon the small circular table in the center of the room. It rested on four clawed legs; its surface looked to be both highly polished and breathtakingly ancient. And there was a jar on the table-a large glass jar that radiated a cool amethyst light. It held no warmth but drew the girl ever closer, her eyes glazed over slightly as she walked like she was entranced.
When she stood before the jar and managed to garner the last of her natural observance to look more carefully into its brilliantly glowing contents, she stepped back and swayed on her feet unsteadily, reaching out two frantically clawing hands. Finding nothing to hold onto, Elaine collapsed to the ground with a muffled thump with an expression of true fear, for the first time, on her face.
* * * * *
An expression of boredom showed plainly through the mask of politeness on Draco's face as he gestured lazily at the four-poster bed and waited for a response of any kind. Hearing none, he turned around slowly, eyes flashing annoyance, to see nothing. No one was there except his own reflection in the ornamented mirror.
"My dear, you should really keep your ears and eyes open more," a voice murmured dreamily, but Draco merely scowled, prompting it to continue, "And that pout doesn't suit you at all."
"Oh, be quiet," he muttered darkly, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door. "Try telling that to Elaine—and where did that little Gryffindor run off to?" He flicked gray eyes down the empty expanse and saw not a shadow, not even a house-elf. Shooting a glare behind him, he strolled down to the end, turning at every open and closed door, willing the stupid little kid to show up soon. Or else.
Draco stopped just short of the last door, mentally begging himself to reconsider the scene before him. The light, the open door, it was all just a mirage. Deep breaths, Draco. It's not real.
But it was all too real, he soon discovered, and what was worse was that Elaine had somehow wandered in. He heard something hit the ground softly and had to exert a large amount of self-control to refrain from running in and either laughing or gawking at her. The room…it held the secret to the Veil, secrets that only a Malfoy could wield. Oh Lady, she better not have touched anything yet, or not even the heir of the manor could get her out…
Summarizing the reasons to walk in inside his head, he took a deep breath and plucked a vial from the wall just behind the doorway. It contained a bubbling crimson red liquid; a single drop would be enough. Draco carefully pulled out the stopper and tilted it over his right hand, allowing it to leave a tiny splatter of a substance similar to sticky water on his palm. Next he smeared it across his hand in the shape of the Malfoy seal and replaced the vial. Father would be displeased to find out about this entire "incident": now there was a perfectly good reason not to go running to him for help.
Crossing his pointed face was a grim smile that quickly disappeared as he prepared to invoke the deep lines of magic that no eleven-year-old, hell, no adult wizard, even, should have ever been forced to know or learn. The only reason the Ministry hadn't been onto the illicit activities yet was because the family had had a tremendous amount of influence behind the Atrium, and largely because their philanthropic efforts had given the Ministry financial support. Whenever something like this happened, they turned aside and let it slip. Draco wasn't even sure if the Malfoy Manor could be monitored, given all the security precautions generations and generations had placed upon it.
He pulled a stained hand across an area a few feet beyond the door, almost appearing to draw back a heavy curtain between himself and the source of the light. Then, walking in head held high, he waved his other hand as if to close the curtain and block the entrance. And in front of him…in front of him was the jar holding the skull of Torvald Linus Malfoy floating eerily in a translucent purple liquid. It bobbed up and down in salute, then seemed to open its mouth in a fiendish cackle.
Draco shuddered involuntarily and shifted his sharp gaze to the girl lying on the floor. Good, she still had a pulse. That was more than should be expected, especially when her eyes fluttered open for the briefest of moments and met his suddenly soft, dove gray eyes before shrinking back and slipping into unconsciousness. Shaking his head, he pondered what to do now that he was in the most dangerous of secret chambers with a ten-year-old girl who had never been in the Manor before. Oh, of course. She couldn't stand up on her own feet either.
After a furious mental conflict, he stooped down and wrapped his hands around her waist and half-dragged, half-carried Elaine's limp body out of the room, remembering to seal it off. An audible sigh of relief and exhaustion escaped from his lips just as she woke up and rose to her feet. "Oh, Draco, what exactly was that?" Her voice had none of its previous childish curiosity, only fear and a pressing need to understand, to know.
"That, Elaine, shall I call you, was a place you will never go into. Again." Draco shot dagger-glares at her to emphasize his point before relenting and cursing himself for being so uncharacteristically friendly today. "Fine. Your room's down this way," he began walking inside, "and your trunks have already been brought up. Though I must say that there's not much inside, is there?" A blond eyebrow twitched upward as he cocked his head in gently mocking questioning.
She nodded for what seemed like the hundredth time in one day and replied, "Thanks, it's because I had to come so quickly. There wasn't really time to pack anything other than clothing…"
"Never mind your dresses," he snapped brusquely, cutting off her soft voice easily. "Tell me right here, right now that you will never walk into that room again."
"I promise." Wide, concerned eyes raised their gaze to a point over his head and out the window when she spotted the hint of…oh gosh, what was that?
Draco caught her line of vision and subtly but forcefully steered it away from his now brown-smudged hands. Wordlessly he stood up from the bed and crossed the bedroom in three long strides before turning and surveying it for the first real time. It wasn't half ugly, he was forced to admit, but Elaine, she wouldn't be delighted from what he had already heard about her, merely accepting.
The walls were colored an off-white that matched perfectly with teal drapes, an eccentric but not unpleasing mixture of royal blue and emerald green. Similarly colored were the hangings about the four-poster bed nearly the same as Draco's own, only smaller and more delicately carved. A dresser and desk lined the wall beside the bed, the light shining dully off polished cherry wood, and opposite them was an empty bookshelf. Apparently whoever had decorated it had assumed that she would find literature to be soothing, inspiring, whatever the reason to have a constant supply.
"Good." There was certain finality in his tone that made it impossible for Elaine to interject, and he continued in much the same way. "Make yourself comfortable, unpack, whatever. I've got to go do something, so if you want anything, just call for the house-elf with the bell here." Then he strolled out of the room calmly, leaving the girl staring at his retreating back.
As Draco headed toward the bathroom in his own chambers, Narcissa Malfoy gazed up from her vantage point on the spiral staircase and smiled a cold, devious smile…
AN: So how was that? I actually had it written a long, long time ago and just decided to publish it….
Please review, I tried to get rid of any mistakes or inconsistencies but I'm no goddess and am therefore allowed mistakes.
l8er,
-cybErdragOn