Chapter 22: The Aftermath
Draco sat in the hospital wing. Occasionally he would look in Severus' direction. He heard from Lily that she heard that he was calling out his name. That was what gave Dumbledore a clue that he was in danger. Good old Severus. Draco was certainly glad that he wasn't awake yet. He dreaded having to try and explain what happened tonight to anyone, let alone Severus. He'd rather die than have Severus know about it. He knew how ultra-responsible Severus felt toward Draco. He toyed with the vial in his hand. He knew it would put him out of his misery for a while, but he wasn't certain that he wanted to take it just then.
Lily was fretting that she couldn't get Dumbledore to allow Drucilla and Andi there to see her and Draco. To Draco, it was just as well. He didn't think he could face her either right now.
"Dear, you really ought to take that potion. Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Moody are going to be a while, and..." Madame Pomfrey began. Draco eyed her. She didn't know all the details, did she? She couldn't possibly. Not even Dumbledore could know the extent of Draco's ordeal. Maybe, if he was careful, they'd never have to know. And maybe, if he was careful, he'd be able to forget. He tucked the old journal of his father's under the mattress of the hospital bed. He didn't want Dumbledore looking at it, certainly. When tears suddenly began to fill his eyes, he opened the vial and gulped it down. He would not cry!
Albus Dumbledore had seen many things in his life; some quite wondrous and others quite horrifying. The dark Wizard Grindelwald had performed spells that would have given someone like Dumbledore nightmares had he not been so immuned to seeing horror. This Voldemort appeared to be following in Grindelwald's footsteps. He knew Voldemort's true identity of course, and that was what alarmed him the most. For Tom Riddle, even when he was merely a student at Hogwarts, was far more powerful than Grindelwald could ever have hoped to be. And, what was worse, Voldemort used his considerable power for considerable evil. Albus had troubled nights, sometimes, when thinking of what had become of Tom.
Indeed, Voldemort was a very real threat to the wizarding, was well as the Muggle world. But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for what had been left hanging from one of the rafters near the third floor landing. He looked at what was laying before him on a bed in the hospital wing. There were a few Ministry wizards and one witch who wore rubber gloves to handle a dead girl's body. Her Hogwart's robe was still on, and Slytherin's crest, with its emerald and silver embroidery, seemed to leap out at him. Her long, bushy brown hair was undone, and her face was black from what had caused her death. One would almost find Rachel Lestrange unrecognizable...
The witch murmured as she prodded the dead girl. "Her neck never broke. It wasn't a clean death, I fear. She must have been hanging there for a few moments." Albus looked away, as he recalled the few hangings he had attended in his youth. It was always better if the person's neck broke. Otherwise, they could spend quite some time kicking and screaming before they suffocated. "Although, her death by strangulation wouldn't account for this..." She pointed to Rachel's eyes, and the dark crusted blood that had been streaming from them.
Albus forced himself to look again. "What could have caused that?" another ministry wizard queried.
"I've never seen anything like it..." she answered. "I wonder if we should not have a more thorough autopsy done in a Muggle facility..."
"Too much paperwork," the other wizard groaned. "I hate dealing with the Muggle pleese-men. They ask far too many questions about things that are none of their concern."
"She might have sustained an injury that caused this bleeding... Perhaps Voldemort did something to her that really killed her, and then tossed her over the third-floor railing..." The first ministry wizard suggested.
"Why would he bother to hide the fact that he killed her? We already knew he was in the building, with her and her brother," Albus pointed out.
"Who was the last person to see her alive?" the witch asked.
Albus was about to say "Draco Malfoy." But then, he recalled that this was actually inaccurate. It was Lily Evans who had seen them fleeing. What were they running from? He looked at Lily, who had also been given a sleeping draught. Not because she was in as much turmoil as Draco obviously was in, but because he wanted her under his watchful eye. He'd loved her like a favorite grand-daughter every since he saw her sobbing in Hufflepuff's corridor that very first night in Hogwarts, heartbroken that her new best friend, Drucilla, was not in Gryffindor house like she was. If anything had happened to her because of Voldemort tonight... Like what had happened to Rachel. He could see that he wasn't getting a wink of sleep tonight.
Unfortunately, Aloysius Snape had also decided to remain at Hogwarts until his nephew came out of his coma. "What could the Dark Lord have done to the wench?" he asked dismissively. "I think she got injured while doing whatever she was doing tonight with her brother. Sevi had just told me about some of the shit they were doing with small animals..."
Albus spun around and nearly asked him to mind his own business, but instead asked him, "When did Severus tell you this?"
"Oh, not long ago at all. I think it might have been a week or two before he Healed the Squib..."
Hmmm..since when did Severus tell his uncle anything? Albus thought carefully before asking, "Did he tell you whether he saw them doing this or not?"
"No he didn't see it himself. He told me that that little blond troublemaker sleeping off his latest accident over there told him." Aloysius pointed at Draco's sleeping form. "I didn't believe it at first. The Lestranges are a fine, old family. Surely they wouldn't have such freakishness among their offspring...or so I thought. Makes you wonder about the Malfoys..." he added smugly. For some reason Albus still couldn't understand, Aloysius was thrilled that his nephew is a Breaker. He seemed to think it added a great deal of prestige to the Snape family honor or something like that. The Malfoys were an ancient family, dating all the way back to Roman times. Aloysius seemed to have the idea that his nephew's abilities now pushed the Snape family to the forefront, despite the fact that the family was more or less dead. Severus was the final generation. Albus shook himself mentally. He hated going over all the family bloodlines; it depressed him.
As awful as this was going to be, Albus knew he was going to have to interrogate Draco extensively when he woke up from his nap. Deep in his gut, Albus knew that the boy had been through a terrible ordeal tonight. Rachel Lestrange's death might have been murder or suicide, but only Draco's answers might shed some light as to what would have motivated either. And, as much as it made his heart ache, he would have to question Lily as well.
Draco woke up and looked around. It was pretty dark in the Hospital wing. He was getting entirely too used to sleeping in here. For a second, he forgot why he was there. But then, the pain returned, and he remembered all too well. He had to use the toilet too, badly. Weighing the benefits of staying and bed against to needs of his bladder resulted in a resounding victory for bladder. Gritting his teeth, he tiptoed to the nearest toilet. When he was finished, and able to think a bit more clearly, he heard all the old men arguing. The old men being Dumbledore, Moody, Aloysius Snape (what the hell was he doing here still?), the Minister of Magic, and Professor Foxworth. Well okay, Foxworth wasn't exactly old, but still...
Draco listened in to what they were discussing. Dumbledore was looking gray in the face. Aloysius had a flush of angry red in his, and Foxworth looked like he was ready to explode. Ony Moody remained unreadable. And the Minister was the one speaking, with his back to Draco. "Gentlemen, this is all conjecture. Whether or not anyone would have been able to detain the Dark Lord is a moot point. As we all well know, he has a bit of a knack with Dementors. He'd be able to escape Azkaban even if we did put him there. And as you may have noticed, he has become very hard to kill."
"Well, what the hell do you expect to do? Reason with him?" Foxworth scoffed.
"No! We train Severus as soon as possible, and then have him Break the Dark Lord!" Aloysius proclaimed.
Dumbledore became even more gray. "I can understand that you want him trained as soon as possible, Aloysius, yet I cannot help but fear that not only will Severus suffer for it by being trained to do this when he is still as yet too immature to handle such a daunting responsibility, but it very well could also make him a target..."
"Do you really think the Dark Lord will come and try something before we get a chance to train Severus?" Aloysius asked.
"I would, if I were him," Moody said. "We must keep his talent an absolute secret if he is to survive long enough to Break him..." Draco's heart began to race. Severus was in danger, and he wasn't the only one! Voldemort knows that Draco has that power too! No one else could ever find out, because if they were to go and put a collar on Draco, he'd be defenseless. Never in his entire life had he felt such hopelessness in his soul. Could things possibly get any worse?
"Mr. Malfoy..." Dumbledore said, spotting Draco off to the side at last. "I do hope that our raised voices hadn't awakened you. But since you are awake, there is much we need to discuss."
"I.." Draco began, eyeing the present company, and then he sighed.
"We found Rachel Lestrange," Moody began. Draco's heart skipped a beat. Moody watched Draco's expression as he added, "swinging from a staircase railing. She hanged herself, we think."
"She's dead?" Draco asked shakily.
"Indeed, quite dead. Odd thing though. Her eyes have blood clotted around them. Don't know what it means..." Moody pointed his mad eye in Draco's direction.
"Blood around her eyes?" Draco repeated. Could this mean that they don't know what it looks like for someone who gets Broken? Maybe he was safe then. From them, at least.
"I was thinking that she got injured from some of their extracurricular activities," Aloysius cut in. "They were doind some kind of wild spells, weren't they, Malfoy? You were there. What was she doing?"
Draco grew angry. "What's it to you, anyway?"
"Enquiring minds want to know," Aloysius shrugged. "It's not everyday that you find a girl that's hanged herself. Makes this school look bad, it does. I've been wanting to take Severus out of here for the longest time. I think that hanging around with all of these Muggle-borns and half-bloods has a bad effect on the pure of blood still in this school. The Lestranges were always of good repute."
"I used to think like that too, but now I know better. Tonight showed me just what pure-bloods are made of," Draco spat. Including his father. He never knew that his father had written a book like that...
"Tut, tut, you're one of them," Aloysius pointed out unkindly, "And so is your friend, my nephew."
"I heard what you said about Severus being in danger. It's just a good thing that he's so much better at Defense Against the Dark Arts than the average student here..." Draco grumbled.
"Do you really think that he would be able to actually fend off the Dark Lord?" Foxworth asked doubtfully.
"Not with that collar on him..." Draco groused.
"Oh, so you agree with me, then? He needs to be trained immediately," Aloysius cut in.
Moody gave the elder Snape a nasty look with his good and magical eyes. "This training takes years, Aloysius! Even if we started with him as soon as he woke up, we couldn't get him to Break an ant in a year's time, let alone the Dark Lord!" Aloysius sneered, but didn't answer.
Draco frowned. "It takes years? What is he supposed to be doing?" His heart was pounding, but he let his face appear impassive, as his father had taught him to do when he was young.
"Indeed, Alastor, I was wondering the same thing. I know that your training took many years. But in the end, it never happened for you," Dumbledore pointed out.
"I don't know the answer to that," Moody admitted. "My training was based on the journals and writings left behind by others who had trained Breakers, back from the times when there were many more of them than now..."
Dumbledore glanced at Aloysius. He had suggested earlier that perhaps Nicholas Flamel might know something of Breakers, seeing as how the man had lived for over six hundred years, thanks to the Elixir of Life that he makes with the Sorcerer's Stone. At the time, Dumbledore didn't think that he wanted to bother Nicholas about it, but now, maybe that was his only answer. He'd try to question him even before he questioned Lily.
"Gentlemen, I suggest that we allow the ministry wizards to take Rachel's remains with them back to London for further examination. If the Dark Lord is injuring his allies to such an extent that they commit suicide afterwards, than we have a great deal to worry over if we stand against him. Draco, I must speak to you," he stated before Draco had a chance to slink off.
"What?" Draco asked fearfully.
"Perhaps you need to talk about something?" Dumbledore suggested, giving Draco a very pointed look.
Draco said shrilly, "I don't want to talk about anything!"
"I didn't ask if you wanted to talk about something. I asked you if you needed to talk about something," Dumbledore repeated. Professor Foxworth, the Minister of Magic, and Aloysius had turned to leave, but they remained there, standing, waiting for Draco's answer. Moody had never left his chair, and his eyes were right on Draco.
"What did Voldemort do to you?" Moody asked.
"He didn't do anything to me!" Draco declared. From his point of view, that was true. Voldemort hadn't laid a wand or finger on Draco. But he didn't stop the Lestrange twins from... Draco felt like his stomach was going to flip upside down and empty itself out at Dumbledore's feet.
Dumbledore saw the expression on Draco's face. No matter how aloof his father had tried to train his son to be, he still couldn't get all feeling out of the boy. "What did he want with you?"
"Names! He wanted names! And I gave him yours!" Draco spat. Foxworth spun around and gaped at Draco. "And I gave him yours too! But don't worry; he already knows all about you!" Draco told Foxworth with disgust.
"Well, as long as you didn't give him my name..." Aloysius sniffed.
Draco hissed and leaped forward, getting in his face. "You bastard! If I had even thought of it, I would have given your name first! As it was, I had too much to think about with Lestrange sticking my own wand up my ass and performing the Cruciatus Curse to give you a second thought!" And just after the words slipped out of his mouth, Draco covered his mouth to try and take them back, but he couldn't. The air became so silent that Draco's ears rang from it. The old men, especially Dumbledore, became even more gray-faced than before. Foxworth, on the other hand, looked slightly green. The Minister of Magic was horrified that such a thing could even be done, obviously. And even Aloysius looked contrite at his stupid remark.
The silence was broken at last. "What did you say he did?" were the words. Everyone snapped out of their trance of baffled horror and glanced in the direction the words came from. There stood Severus, with tears in his eyes, looking straight at Draco.