CHAPTER FOURTEEN: BLOOD
There's a chapter on fathers, a chapter on sons
There are pages of conflicts that nobody won
And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat
There's a page where we failed to meet
-Sting-
If Draco thought it had been hard to uphold an act at the Christmas table, it was nothing compared to now. As he walked with his father through the front door of the Malfoy castle, with Lucius' hand firmly placed on his shoulder, there were almost an overload of thoughts racing through his head. He tried to focus on what Snape had said, but the picture of Neville beaten nearly to death kept coming up and then the mindless rage entered and after that, the huge effort to keep it restrained.
But not the least, there was real, deep-rooted fear of what to come.
He tried to kill Neville. Is it my turn now?
As the servants took their outer robes, Draco had several instincts to hit his father as hard as he could and run for it. But it would be no good. Lucius knew him too well and the mere thought of Neville being punished again for the sake of how Draco had dealt with this, helped his body to keep in check.
"Come with me." Lucius said, still smiling in front of the house elfs, as if it mattered at all.
Then he just grabbed the garment of Draco's shirt and started to drag him along to the stairs leading down to the underground dungeons. Draco's heart made a frightened leap, as the basement was something normally out of boundaries for him. His imagination about the place had never been kind and feeling himself stumble on the stone steps and hearing the heavy oak door being locked behind him, some frantic survival instincts surfaced.
He reached for his wand in panic, but in the blink of an eye, Lucius had drawn it out and thrown it on the stairs behind them.
"A very bad move indeed." His father hissed. "I do not think you need to give me any more reasons for your penalty, do you?"
Lucius had him in a stronger grip now, pulling him along a dark stone corridor with a low roof, lit up only by a few scattered torches. Draco clenched his teeth together all he could not to give his father the treat of seeing his fear. But his body wouldn't quite follow and Lucius had to throw him into the cold stone room selected, before locking the door behind them with a slight wave of his wand.
Draco threw a desperate glance around the room as Lucius slowly turned to face him, his lips twisted into a sinister wolf grin of pure rage.
At least the room was empty, save for some hooks and a solitary torch attached to the wall.
No torture instruments but he's going to beat me up real bad for sure...
"Well, now." Lucius drawled, fixing his triumphant pale eyes on Draco. "Where to begin? Ah, yes, Christmas."
Draco felt by pure instinct how his entire system screamed as one voice that this was the moment to apologize, to throw himself on his knees and beg for a swift punishment, that he would repent, improve, if only he had his father's forgiveness. It was the most logical thing to do, but his feet remained rooted on the spot and his tounge seemed tied, refusing to shape even one word.
He could see Neville on the floor again up in the astronomy tower, with all the blood and his father, smiling as he was about to speak, the knife still in his hand.
Draco suddenly straightened himself up, meeting his father's gaze with equal cold. No. To tell Lucius he was sorry would be like spitting Neville in the face.
"Do you possibly have anything to say to your defence?" Lucius said, more rethorically than actually asking.
He took a step towards Draco, putting his wand right under Draco's chin to force his head up a little.
Lucius was reeking of death and disaster, promising unspeakable horrors by his mere voice. Draco shuddered, but kept his feet firmly fixed to the ground.
The anger came calling again, bringing uncontrollable hate with it. This man before him had tried to kill his Neville and it was his father. The disappointment was too vast, calling too loud for vengeance for the voice of reason to be heard.
For you, Neville.
"One thing." Draco said, his voice a lot more cool and collected than he felt. "I've dumped him and I'm all into Pansy instead, but Trevor the toad has more balls than you."
The last thing he saw was Lucius face horribly twisted into pure hatred, then the wand was waved and a blinding light erupted from it.
"CRUCIO!"
Draco heard himself scream uncontrollably, as every nerve in his body seemed to be pierced by burning firepokes. He hit the stone floor without realising it, twisting and turning in pain. His red-clouded eyes caught a glimpse of a satisfied smile on his father's lips, before the tears blinded him.
Trevor the toad was living a life of luxury in Neville's lap, while trying to communicate with one of the chocolate frogs as usual. And there were lots of frogs to mingle with. Earlier that day, Harry, Hermione and Ron had been to see him, along with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team and his class as well. The visit was an obvious apology for the behaviour towards him earlier that month. It made Neville feel a lot better and safer, but the crucial source for his wellbeing was missing.
The Gryffindors (and some students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff) had left mountains of candy and get-well presents on the tables and the bed, causing madame Pomfrey to trip over the runaway chocolate frogs, swearing at them in a surprisingly harsh language.
At the moment, he was alone with Trevor, talking to the toad very softly while stroking its back with waterdrops to keep it comfortable.
"Maybe Draco will come in here later and you can say hello to him." Neville whispered. "You've never really been properly introduced and... and..."
Neville sighed. It was all he could think of, Draco and then Draco again. He couldn't bear the thought of Draco returning home and he could bear even less that Draco would be seen with Pansy, the insufferable black-haired Slytherin witch. But least of all he wanted to touch the subjects Snape had brought up.
The door opened and Hermione came in, striding up to his bed with light, bouncing steps as always. McGonagall rose from her chair and walked over to the desk across the room, as she did when Neville recieved company.
"How are you, Neville?" she asked, putting an apple on top of the candy heap.
"Okay, I guess. But it's hard sleeping at night. Pomfrey says I'll be out in a week or so, but I have to take medicines for a long time."
Hermione nodded.
"Do you want to talk to me about something?" She said, very diplomatically.
Neville glared at her, suddenly on his guard.
"I'm really worried, that's all." Hermione said in a parental way, looking very serious. "You can't blame me, after...you know...can you?"
"He saved my life, Hermione. And if it wasn't for him, I'd be dead, since nobody was around to care where I went." Neville suddenly realised that he had adopted a certain mean streak from Draco, hearing the strange poison his voice carried. But it felt so good to get it out.
"Malfoy has gone home. His father was here to pick him up, did you know that?" Hermione's voice was very gentle.
Neville went pale. Then the tears welled up in his eyes, giving shape to his anguish.
"But...no, how could Umbridge let him in, after what he did? Hasn't anybody reported him to the ministry?"
Hermione didn't answer. Instead she put her arms around Neville, who started to cry uncontrollably against her shoulder. He came out of it soon enough, meeting Hermione's gaze with a desperate glint in his eyes.
"We have to save him!" he blurted out. "There's no telling what Lucius could do!"
"Oh, please calm down, Neville!" Hermione urged. "I'm sure he'll return shortly. He'll have to take his exams with the rest of us."
But Neville shook his head.
"No, I'm not losing him, not now!" he said. "I have to get well, oh no..."
Hermione stroked his cheek and gave him a concerned look.
"Look. If you're really worried, I'll check up on him." she promised.
Neville stared at her full of surprise.
"How are you going to do that?"
"I'll find a way." She mused. "I already have a plan. Rest and don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can with the news."
"Why are you doing this?" Neville asked, not daring to believe she was serious.
"Because you're my friend, Neville, even if Malfoy isn't. And I can see what he means to you. And after all..." She kissed his cheek. "...he did save your life."
Draco fought to catch his breath as the searing pain pulsed through him. The crucios had stopped for now. He had lost count on how many times the word had been uttered, twice, maybe three or four times? All he knew was that he lay shaking on the stone floor, covered in coldsweat, his head spinning as it failed to deal with the shocking new levels of experience.
If he had known that there were tortures like this, he would have rewritten every word and every action directed at his father the minutes before disaster. His sobs were impossible to restrain and Draco wasn't sure it was all about the physical uncomfort.
Lucius leant over him all of a sudden, drawing a silver watch out from his robes, attached in a magnificent chain. He let it swing like a pendulum close to Draco's eyes, but Draco couldn't focus enough to look at it.
"Pathetic." he heard Lucius say. "Not until now can you grasp the full consequences of your behaviour."
Draco was in complete despair over a lot more than his punishment. This was his father that he had admired, the same person who had read him stories when he was a child, who had spoken about him proudly to everyone who would bear to listen.
"As you may or may not see, we have nine more hours to correct your failure." Lucius continued, his voice uncannily calm.
Draco felt his heart sink to his stomach. Impossible. It had taken two hours just to return home and an eternity had passed already! He couldn't bear anymore of it, for certain. His father had to understand that!
Lucius straightened up again, his wand put into an offensive position.
"NO!" Draco shouted, trying to hold his hand up in a shielding gesture. "I'm sorry father, I am! It won't happen again, EVER!"
"It certainly will not." Lucius said, very slowly. "You will come to understand that, if not after the good whipping I intend to give you, so perhaps when the taste of this spell is firmly rooted into your system."
Whipping! His father had to be mad. The pain was burning Draco up from within, his skin sore as if his nerves lay exposed on top of it.
"Understand." Lucius continued. "If I don't do this now, your fellow Death eaters will, and that will be a lot more painful, trust me. It is for your own good."
"Please! Wait!" Draco pleaded, trying to find any sort of understanding or reason at all. "I'll do whatever you say, I think my arm's broken...and...think about mother!"
"Your arm is broken." Lucius answered coldly. "And concerning your mother, you will return to school immediatly after your repentance. If I can sense any truth in your regret. And if you breathe even one word to her about this, you will see this place again sooner than you wish to. CRUCIO!"
Snape had just finished a lesson with the second-years when the most ambitious student at Hogwarts made her way through the door as the twelve years old snottlings hurried out. He collected the parchment essays on the student's tables while she walked up and stopped at a respectful distance.
"The sixth year student litterature on potions will be released in July." He said without even looking up at her.
He could admit he was a little impressed by her, even though it couldn't get in the way for the house rivalry. She was the only student he'd ever seen who seemed to look forward to his lessons with genuine interest, offering challenging discussions about the potion's subject, despite Snape's constant tries to boot her down.
"Actually, professor, I came to you for another reason. It concerns one of your students, Mr Malfoy."
Snape stopped in his tracks and met her gaze, full of suspicion.
"Make it quick then." He snapped, not interested to listen to any trouble Malfoy may have caused his enemies.
Hermione cleared her throat, an obvious warning that she prepared a speech.
"It has come to my attention that Lucius Malfoy visited the school this morning, to bring Mr Malfoy home."
Snape suddenly gave her the most cynical glare he could display.
"You are not possibly running Longbottom's errands, are you?"
Hermione made a slight pause and heightened an eyebrow, much in the same fashion that Snape often did.
"That is correct, yes." She admitted. "But since Malfoy belongs to your house..."
Snape made a world-weary sigh, holding one hand up for her to stop. He was overwhelmingly tired of his life all of a sudden. But even more, he was way beyond tired of Malfoy's private intrigues. He couldn't believe Hermione had allowed herself to be pulled into the fatal swamp of this idiot fix.
"If you are so clever as you pretend to be" he said, making his voice stinging, "then give me even one reason to why I should involve myself."
Hermione tilted her head slightly and looked carefully at him.
"Because Dumbledore would have wished you to?" she suggested.
Snape almost gave a start at her steady aim. This nosy little Gryffindor with an oversized brain would clearly never stop surprising him.
"You know nothing about that!" he snapped, angered by her cheekiness. He had certainly suffered enough in this drama.
"Of course not, professor." She said hurriedly, using a very irritating diplomatic tone. "But considering the side we are both on and the future advantages for the cause, the heir of the Malfoy empire could hardly stand as an unimportant ally."
Snape only stared at her. The sorting hat must have malfunctioned, not to put her in Ravenclaw. However, he had long suspected that Dumbledore directed the hat to his will anyway.
"So why do you presume that I will interfere with the Malfoys' private matters?"
His voice was filled with chilly streams, hoping to scare her away. But Hermione was still there, brooding for a second as if he had shot her a tricky question from homework.
"Because, I think that Draco really trusts you." She said finally. "And if you help him now, he will know that you...we care about him and then the last steps to our side will be a lot easier, since I believe Lucius Malfoy has quite some respect for you. If smoothly done, he will never know you are behind it. I, for instance, could run your errands in the matter if you only instruct me. And I'm sure that Neville..."
"Enough of it!" Snape glared at her bitterly, not wishing to stir up any well-founded emnity with Potter's allies. "How is it that you even have the nerve to come to me in confidence about this?"
Hermione shrugged, giving him a glance of unexpected pity and sympathy.
"Dumbledore trusts you and that's enough for me." She said. "And besides, you are the most gifted teacher at Hogwarts."
When Draco came to his senses again, he wished he could have stayed in the void of unconciousness a lot longer. He was resting his head on somebody's arm and every inch of him was hurting so much that he feared for an instant that his body had been burned to cinders.
But as he opened his eyes, he caught sight of his own hand, still white as it rested powerlessly against his stomach. Then he dimly saw his father's face in the corner of his eye, realising that he were held in his lap, unable to move.
Cool, soothing fingers brushed his forehead, but even though the touch was very light, Draco had to bite his tounge not to scream out loud of the pain it caused.
"You understand why I need to do this, don't you?" Lucius asked, his voice calm and lecturing.
"It burns." Draco whispered, surprised to find his voice at all.
"I know, believe me." Lucius answered, not sounding the least empathic about it. "But you should have thought about this before you defied me. You are clever enough, Draco, to know what I do to people who dare to cross me. How could you bring yourself to do this to me?"
Draco closed his eyes again, not believing what he heard. There was no sensible answer to this at all and it was thoroughly hard to concentrate on talking when he was in such an urgent need of relieve from the pain.
"Answer me, Draco."
"I am very sorry." Draco whispered, struggling to get the words out right. "Now that I know I will never do it again."
"That will not do, Draco."
Oh, shit.
"I'll do exactly as you say from now on." he tried, swallowing not to make any sound of discomfort.
"That I take for granted." Lucius scolded him. "No really. I'd say you need to practise your lesson a little harder."
Draco couldn't stop himself from screaming with pain as his hands were brought together and tied up. His right arm was hurting as if lightning was streaming through it. He thought he saw a broken bone pipe sticking out, but averted his eyes in shock and disbelief.
Suddenly he dangled from a hook in the wall, tied to it by the rope around his wrists. His feet barely touched the floor and the pain was so engulfing it was almost ridiculous. Seeing his father pulling the belt out from Draco's pants was still even more unbelievable.
Please let him be bluffing. I am not weak, it's only pain, it's over soon...who am I kidding?
"Father, please!" Draco gasped. "You'll kill me! Let's be reasonable and talk about it..."
Lucius eyes narrowed.
"Fascinating." He said in a voice expressing the opposite. "Now you're willing to listen, are you? Just as the Longbottom creep when under the slightest pressure. I recall his parents said the same in about this situation." Lucius flashed a mean smile. "Speaking of him, I think we're done with the Christmas incident for now. By all means, let's discuss Longbottom."
This was only about Christmas so far? Oh, FUCK!
This day, Snape hated his life. He hated his work and above all, he really, really hated the Malfoy family. Imagine that the arrogant, ingratiating slimeball had the nerve to confide in him in such a way as to leave the half-dead Draco over to his care, as if Snape had any obligation to cover up Lucius' contemptous methods.
Well, this time things were about to change. And it was payback time for both the times Lucius had handed Draco over to him like that, but most of all, for trespassing on Snape's territory.
As usual, Lucius expected tea as soon as the unconcious Draco was put into Snape's bed in a nearby room. Snape gave Draco the same sleeping draught Neville had recieved, to make sure he wouldn't have to wake up for at least twelve hours. But the wounds were too precarious this time and he would have to bring madame Pomfrey into it soon enough.
But not until this little scene was over. Snape wouldn't miss it for the world.
As he poured the hot tea into Lucius cup, he handled the conversation smoothly as always, not touching the matter about Draco at all.
"So, how fares the Malfoy investments?" he asked, showing a glimpse of curiousity. The truth was that the topic had to win an award for the most boring conversation material ever.
But Lucius was more than eager to discuss it, having a satisfied calm over him now that his frustrations had been brought over to Draco.
"It couldn't have been better and it is certainly right in time, now that the Dark Lord..."
A knock was heard and before Snape could answer, the door was opened and Hermione stood in the doorway.
"Did I tell you to enter, Granger?" Snape shot at her, feigning his irritation perfectly.
"I'm sorry professor, but there is a guest who wanted to see you and I took the liberty to show her to your...er... office." She cast a disdainful glance around the dungeons, giving a start as she spotted Lucius in one of the armchairs by the desk.
The girl is a natural actress.
Lucius gave her a vicious smile, but the smile froze on his lips and faded as his wife suddenly strode through the door.
Snape had to use all his discipline not to smile in the same manner Lucius had done recently. Instead, he raised an eyebrow in surprise, getting to his feet.
"Mrs Malfoy. If I had known of your visit, I'd..."
"Please, Severus, be seated. I was looking for my husband." Narcissa said, playing along just fine by leaving Snape out of all suspicion. "This little...Gryffindor here" She wrinkled her nose at Hermione, "had some information I decided to check up on."
Hermione glared innocently at Lucius, giving him the clear impression that she was to blame.
"Leave the room at once, Granger!" Snape warned her, enjoying the act so much, he put more soul into it than he did with his graduation tests.
Hermione backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Lucius got up from his chair to recieve his wife, who sent more chilly vibrations towards him than even Snape was able to accomplish.
Lucius reached his hand out to grasp Narcissa's in a hopeless attempt to uphold normality. Narcissa didn't take it.
"Is something wrong, my dear?" Lucius asked, putting on a show of slight concern.
Snape, who thought that Narcissa's eyes couldn't get any colder, was proven wrong.
"I heard you picked up Draco at school this morning." She said, using her infamous frosty voice. "I was surprised you did not tell me."
Lucius raised an eyebrow.
"Ah. Draco and I needed to sort certain things out and I thought it appropiate that we did so in private." He answered her, his voice still not revealing anything out of the ordinary.
But Snape noted with glee that he avoided lying to his wife as much as possible.
"I see." Narcissa turned her eyes to Snape, ignoring her husband very dramatically. "Where is my son now, by the way? I would like to meet him."
Lucius was clearly annoyed about Narcissa's ignorance towards him, displayed in public and all.
"Could it possibly wait, my dear?" he asked, his voice silky despite the venom dripping from it. "It's eleven o'clock in the evening after all."
Now came Snape's favourite part, where he would actually seem to take sides with Lucius to keep him out of trouble, like a good Death eater-brother.
"Your husband has a point." Snape agreed, surprised at meeting a gaze colder than his own. "The students have been to bed since an hour back. If you like, I could give him a message."
Narcissa seemed to ponder the words for a moment before nodding and Lucius eyes glimmered with victory. But as usual, Hermione's timing was impeccable.
She let the door fly open with a bang and stood in the doorway holding a perfect pose of a righteous Gryffindor, her fists clutched and her face red with fury from the unjustice.
"NO!" she yelled, looking straight at Narcissa, who had turned to heighten her eyebrows in dislike. "I heard you! They're lying, Mrs Malfoy!"
Snape burst forward to drag her out with the speed of lightning, but Hermione managed to press it all out, before they were in the corridor and Snape shut the door behind them.
"He's in Snape's room! He's almost dead!"
As the echoes faded from the violent closing of the door, Snape let go of Hermione instantly. The Gryffindor's eyes were shining and her cheeks were flustered from the excitement of the act. The change between characters came so quickly that Snape decided to keep a watchful eye on her for the rest of her stay at Hogwarts. This kind of Slytherin behaviour was all too familiar.
Hermione lingered by the door with the plain intention to eavesdrop. That was exactly what Snape intended to do and so he sent a protesting Hermione away, engaging himself completely in the angry voices behind the door. Once again it was proved that malice was the only true joy.
Draco had a very soothing awakening, as a hand carefully stroke his hair. His eyelids were too heavy to open and his limbs to numb to obey him from the painremoving draughts. But in the half-slumber he heard Neville's voice, wondering if it was mere wishful thinking. Maybe he was hallucinating now, still trapped in the basement. But the hand felt very real.
"Draco? I don't know if you can hear me." His voice sounded thick with tears. "McGonagall says I can only stay for a little while. You're in Snape's room after all and he doesn't look like he really wants me here. I'm up walking now, since a few days back and...I really miss you. They say we can't talk to each other when you're healed and your mother will be here so I can't really come back to visit you, or that's what Snape says, but Draco, you know that I love you, right? I'm so sorry I couldn't help you."
Then Draco felt several kisses on his lips and face. He tried to answer them the best he could, aware that his efforts brought him absolutely no results.
It was dead frustrating.
"I have to go." Neville whispered into his ear. "But I think about you night and day. Remember that."
Then the soothing hand disappeared and before Draco drifted back to sleep, reality lay painfully clear before him. He might have allies in this school and even though both he and Neville had lived through their peril, it was no option to take that risk again. His father was but one of a crowd waiting to bring ruin upon them.
The safe illusions had shattered. And if he wanted Neville to live, he would need to remove him as far as possible from any death eater-influences and that, unfortunately, included even himself.
NOT the end...
