It had been three days since Draco and Amelia had been ambushed in the forest and Draco taken back to the Malfoy Manor. For three painstaking days and three sleepless nights he had sat in his childhood bedroom staring fixedly out the window, or else pacing in frustration around the room. In that time he'd had no visitors, save for a timid house elf who would bring him food twice a day (he assumed this was the work of his mother). How was he ever to accept that he would have to live out the rest of his days as a prisoner of the Dark Lord's? He had spent every waking moment devising up ways in which he could somehow escape, but none would work: the Unbreakable Vow had him bound here for the rest of his days. In his darker moments as he lay awake at night, wide eyed and staring at the ceiling, he wondered whether they would eventually get bored and just kill him; put him out of his misery. Would he even mind?
It was hard to believe that only three days ago he was sleeping beside Amelia. Their humble tent in the middle of a British forest seemed another lifetime now, or as if it were only something he'd read about rather than having experienced it himself. The only thing that convinced him it was all real were the painful memories he now harboured. Now, if he managed to momentarily drift into sleep, to wake up to an empty bed in the Malfoy Manor was more painful than any torture he had ever endured. He tried not to think of her and how she would have felt waking up in the forest alone. What would she think of him? Dead? Or perhaps worse… would she think that he had abandoned her for the Death Eaters?
A knock of his door stirred Draco from his spiralling thoughts. He need not have invited whoever it was in, as the door swung open almost immediately. Draco didn't acknowledge his mother or father, and instead slowly turned his gaze back towards the window. Something at the sight of them made Draco want to scream and shout, pull down the curtains and upturn the desk, but he hadn't the energy for any of that.
"Draco, good news son," his father said as he and Narcissa stood before him. "There is to be a wedding – next week."
Draco sighed with a frown, still determinedly looking out the window, unable to look at the pair of them. "Not really my thing, thanks."
"Ah – to clarify; it will be your wedding."
This caught Draco's attention. His head whipped around to examine his parents and his skin suddenly tingled with adrenaline. His mother's eyes were downcast but his father's jaw was set and his eyes steely.
"I'm sorry?" Draco spluttered in disbelief.
"The Malfoy bloodline must be continued; you know it is important to preserve and prolong pureblood lineage." Luscious spoke as if this was all common sense. "Why else do you think you are here? Why else would you have been spared in the woods?"
Draco swallowed hard. It shouldn't have shocked him as it did, that the only reason his father made the effort to bargain for his life was for his own egotistical gain. But still Draco felt a sudden tightening of his chest, as if a heavy weight had been placed on it.
He blinked these thoughts away. "And if I refuse to be a part of this?" He asked flatly.
"That isn't an option," Luscious said with a clipped tone. "You made the Vow, boy," Luscious reminded his son with a dark but confident tone.
"We've chosen someone you already know – someone you already like, in fact," Narcissa said, speaking for the first time in what appeared like an attempt to soothe Draco.
Draco frowned; he couldn't think of anyone that he liked, let alone would be happy to marry in a week's time.
"Pansy Parkinson," Narcissa revealed. "A likeminded and similarly pureblood family; the perfect choice."
Draco fell back into his seat with a gaping mouth. This was ridiculous – utterly ludicrous.
"No – no, I won't do it," he eventually said in a smaller voice.
"You must," Luscious said darkly, " you made a vow and you must keep it. You will wed Pansy next week."
"She's already agreed. She's excited, Draco. She will be a good companion for you, so you won't have to be alone," Narcissa said.
Draco glared at his mother, unable to find a response strong enough for this. He wanted to remind them both that the only reason he was alone, was due to them. Instead though, he watched helplessly as they filed out of his room, both unable to look him in the eye any longer. He kept himself composed until he heard the click of the door and collapsed his head into his hands, feeling physically ill with the defeat he felt.
Present Day:
It was one night since his and Pansy's anniversary, when Draco had escaped into the Manor gardens away from his wife. Draco sat in the drawing room of the Malfoy Manor, a glass of fire whiskey cradled loosely in his hand. He faced the crackling fire, the warmth on his skin making him sleepy.
Draco heard the door click closed behind him and rolled his eyes, exhaling in frustration.
"Care to explain that performance last night?" His father's icy voice cut through the silence.
Draco took a sip. He could feel Luscious' presence beside him, but kept his eyes transfixed on the fire.
"Performance?" He enquired with feigned ignorance.
In a single, swift movement Luscious took the glass tumbler from Draco's grip and threw it across the room, letting it shatter against a wall. Draco had trained himself to not even blink in these situations, and merely dragged his eyes up to his father's gaze.
"Is something bothering you, father?" Draco asked, matching Luscious' cool tone.
Luscious grabbed Draco by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the chair and bringing him close to his face. Still, Draco refused to flinch. He was older now and had just as much physical strength as his father, if not more.
"If you don't keep up your end of the bargain and cooperate, you know what will happen," his father threatened.
"This is me – cooperating," Draco said through gritted teeth.
"Last night was not cooperation. Leaving your own wedding anniversary early?"
Draco shrugged and pushed his father off him. "I was bored."
"You don't think I saw you sitting in the gardens, cigarette after cigarette," Luscious continued, in a way which almost felt like he was telling his son off. "It's been a year. Pansy needs to be pregnant – soon."
Draco looked at his father, his lips curled slightly in disgust. "If you fancy her, then by all means-
"I am not joking, Draco," Luscious hissed, his eyes blazing. "You have one month. Or the girl is killed."
Draco's expression dropped. "That was never part of the deal," he said in a low and steady voice.
"The Malfoy bloodline is the whole deal, Draco".
Draco watched his father leave without uttering another word. He sat back down, raking a shaky hand through his hair.
He and Pansy had never been intimate together, despite sharing a bed. They portrayed an act in public, and Draco was ashamed to admit that he knew Pansy was probably in love with him, but she knew their marriage was a front – a way to keep the Malfoy bloodline alive and pure, and to keep Draco as a prisoner.
It had been two weeks since Luscious made the threat, but Draco had taken little action. He had spent years trying to think of ways he could somehow escape the Malfoy Manor and the grips of the Dark Lord, but the Unbreakable Vow kept him tethered. Every night, instead of having to spend time with Pansy, he opted to sit in the Manor gardens, chain smoking cigarettes and avoiding it all. The green gardens, with its manicured hedges and damp grey stone tiling had become the closest thing Draco had to a sanctuary.
"I never knew you were so fond of our gardens."
Draco turned one evening to see his mother taking a seat on the bench next to him. He'd been in such a daze that he hadn't even noticed her approaching.
"It's not so much a fondness of the gardens, as much as a dislike of what's indoors," Draco replied coolly.
His mother gave a small and breathy laugh. "Yes, your father told me of the plan. Apparently I am finally be to a grandmother?"
"Apparently," he echoed. He lit another cigarette, feeling his anxiety inwardly peak at this reminder.
He could feel his mother watch him as he took a long drag. His gaze fell past the perfectly squared hedges opposite them, where the sloping edges of rolling hills were caught in the moonlight beyond the vast grounds of the Malfoy Manor. The one physical barrier between him and freedom – if only it were as easy as jumping a hedge.
"You break my heart Draco. This is not what I envisioned for you."
"Yeah, funnily enough I guessed all of that. Your husband makes it perfectly clear how disappointing I am."
Narcissa clicked her tongue. "That's not what I mean. You are so desperately unhappy. I never wanted you to grow up as a prisoner to a pretend life."
Draco turned his head towards her, frowning in confusion. Narcissa Malfoy certainly took less of a hard-line than Luscious, to the point where Draco sometimes felt she may even have love left in her heart for her son, but they had never spoken directly about any of this.
"You think about her, still? Amelia Collins?" Narcissa asked, her voice gentle.
Draco looked sceptically at her. A name that he hadn't heard uttered out loud for so long. "How do you… yes, I do. All of the time."
"Do you know anything of her whereabouts?" Narcissa pressed.
"She's with the Resistance – that's the last I heard, about a year ago." His voice was deflated.
Narcissa was slowly nodding, turning this information around in her mind.
As Draco stamped out his cigarette, his mother gathered his hands in hers. They felt frail and shaky, and a pang of guilt hit Draco. He looked up at her and saw her watery eyes shine in the moonlight as she gazed at him sadly.
"I want you to find her," she eventually said.
"That's not possible." He spoke in a low, cracked voice. If anyone even suspected he was speaking about this – about Amelia – the consequences could be catastrophic. "Mother, it's an unbreakable-
"Vow," she finished, "I know. I've made one myself, and I am more than aware of the responsibility they carry."
"You've made one?"
She bowed her head. "Yes. For you, to ensure your safety. Not unlike the way that you have done for this girl."
Draco frowned – he remembered Snape saying this, a million years ago at Hogwarts. A wave of emotion hit him as he looked at his mother and properly took her in for the first time in years. She was withered by the war the same way that he was. Maybe even trapped in a similar way.
"I didn't know… I'm sorry, I would've never asked for you to do that…"
She shook her head and smiled sadly. "You should never have to ask for safety, Draco. Not least from your mother." A darkness swept over her eyes as she said this and another stab of guilt hit Draco. "It doesn't matter," she continued with a small shake of her head, "I did it to protect you, but I have been a terrible mother since. I have stood by and allowed the most horrible things to happen to you." Draco tried to argue this gently, but she squeezed his hands and shushed him. "It's true. Your whole life I've tried to give you everything I could. I've tried to do what's best for you. I thought that your father's position would ensure our safety – your safety – but I should've put my foot down and refused your involvement with these people when you were sixteen. I have failed you, and I am so, so sorry for that."
Draco put his hand on her shoulder, feeling awful hearing these words. "I don't blame you for anything, mother."
"I've made nothing but terrible decisions for the past ten years. Please just know that it began from a place of love."
Draco nodded slowly. A renewed hatred for his father bubbled deep inside of him at his mother's words.
"I want to help you, Draco. I can't stand this anymore – the way you looked on your anniversary to Pansy…"
Draco bowed his head. "There's nothing either of us can do," he said softly.
"There is something," Narcissa replied with ambiguous cunning.
"Mother – believe me, I've spent years thinking of a way to escape. I made an unbreakable Vow with father, so as long as we are both alive, nothing can change."
They sat in silence for a moment as Narcissa dabbed at her eyes delicately, her hands still shaking.
"I have a plan," she finally said. Her voice sounded stronger as she looked up at Draco, her jaw set.
Draco frowned, but did not speak.
"I will ensure the Unbreakable Vow is broken. You can run from here, and find Amelia Collins and finally have a chance at making a life for yourself, away from all of this."
Draco was confused. "Mother, the point of Unbreakable Vows is that they are… unbreakable." He hoped he didn't sound patronising.
"Until a participant is dead."
Draco's eyes shot up. He could see the determination in her face and knew immediately what she meant.
"Mother… you can't… I couldn't possibly let you…"
Silent tears were falling again, but she brushed them away with an impatient backhand.
"Draco, I have thought about this for a long time. That man is no good, for either of us. But certainly not for you."
Unsure of how to respond to what she was saying, Draco lit another cigarette.
"Things are not getting any better; the resistance is struggling. The Dark Lord has never been so powerful, and Draco – I know that he does not intend for you to survive this. As soon as Pansy has a child and you are no longer the end of the Malfoy bloodline."
The words felt like a bludger to the gut. "Does father know this?"
Narcissa paused. "Yes. He agreed with the Dark Lord; that's why you were brought back rather than killed that day in the forest."
Another hit. Draco inhaled the smoke, trying to calm the storm he felt in his chest. His own father leading him to the slaughter. He ran a hand through his hair and suddenly became very aware of the vulnerability of having this conversation in the open.
"Let me help you, Draco," Narcissa pleaded. "Let me finally do right by my son."
She lifted a hand to his cheek and Draco had to stop himself from flinching at the unexpected affection. The Malfoy's never were ones for showing their emotions, least of all his stoic mother. But here she was.
"I can't ask you to do that for me, mother. It's too much. Not to mention the danger it'll put you in…"
"I am not letting them hurt you anymore." For the first time her voice sounded defiant – brave, even. "If you stay here, I am telling you, they will kill you. Whether Pansy is pregnant or not; your time has all but run out. In their eyes, you are not a Death Eater."
"He's your husband…"
"And you are my only son." She shook her head. "He is no longer the man I married. This war has transformed him. When I look at Luscious, he is not someone I recognise." Her voice sounded sour as she spoke his name.
Draco couldn't believe this. His mother had been keeping up the perfect façade this whole time.
She told Draco, who was still dumbfounded by the entire conversation, that she'd already devised a plan which would leave her looking innocent enough, and allow Draco enough time to escape before an alarm was raised as to his whereabouts. His head still completely spinning, Draco accepted this.
"I should go – your father will be wondering where I am. It'll be too risky for us to discuss this any further at the Manor. Friday evening, after the guests have departed. Wait for my signal."
Draco lay wide awake in bed that night, turning the conversation over and over in his mind. His mother admitting a diminished loyalty to the Dark Lord, making an Unbreakable Vow of her own – for Draco, understanding what had happened between him and Amelia… and now this plan she had created.
He thought of finding Amelia – would it even be possible? As far as he was aware, she was in hiding and would therefore, be predictably difficult to track down. But he'd be free. Free of his façade of a marriage, a life of living in constant fear, of imprisonment in the place he once called home. Free to make his own way, openly stand up for what he chose to believe in.
As he rolled over he silently began to make his own plan to try and extract any information the Ministry had on the resistance for this final week he was at work before he escaped.
