Chapter 27 - Everything is going to be fine

Theo stumbles out of the floo and is immediately assaulted with the scents of roast beef and fresh bread. It's like he's traveled back in time, to when he would visit the Manor as a child. Somehow, he'd been expecting a difference — something dark and foreboding and strange.

But the kitchen is warm and homey and full of light and activity. He supposes the Dark Lord's interest in destroying everything good in the world does not extend the workings of house elves.

No, he just bothers himself with the kidnapping of teenagers.

"So how do we do this?" Pansy whispers after Hermione steps through. "Sweep through in pairs or as a group?"

"Stay together," Neville says quickly, entwining his hand in Theo's. Theo can feel his pulse racing.

"Yes," Hermione agrees. "Does anyone else think we should go… up?"

"Yeah," Theo agrees, only realising it as he says it. The Felix Felcis sings in his blood, urging him on. "He's up high somewhere."

Pansy and Neville nod.

"Could it be the tower, maybe?" Pansy asks.

"Could be," Theo says. "That would be the highest part of the house. And one of the most secure — only one way in and out."

Neville's grip on him tightens.

"Well that's where we're going then," Hermione says with finality. "Pansy, Theo do you know the way?"

"From here we can get to a back staircase that goes up to the nursery and governess' quarters. Those should be empty," Pansy explains quickly. "Then it's just one short main hallway to the tower."

She looks at Theo for confirmation.

"Yeah," he says. "That should be the best way."

The group makes their way towards the stairs. Theo keeps holding fast to Neville's hand.

The three elves working in the kitchen don't bother them. They seem to be purposefully not looking at them, remaining conspicuously engrossed in their various tasks. Theo almost wants to grin — if anybody asks, the elves will be able to truthfully say they didn't see them come through.

They slip into the stairwell and make their way up, Pansy and Hermione walking next to each other in the front, Theo and Neville following closely behind.

Everyone keeps their wands ready.

Nobody says a word.

At the landing on the third floor, there are two doors. Even these back service doors are painted a clean, bright white with floral trim.

Pansy silently points to the door on the left and Hermione tests the knob. Unlocked.

She cracks it open slowly and peeks her head through, noticeably letting out a breath when she realises the coast is clear.

The four of them step through into a short, dark hallway. A wide door has been left open, showing a scattering of old toys and a dusty crib. A mobile spins above it, playing a soft twinkly song. The charm must not have worn out, though the room has clearly been empty for years.

It makes Theo's skin crawl.

The music follows them down the hall to a wide set of double doors.

"Out here," Pansy says, her whispers shockingly loud in the silence, "is the main foyer of the west wing. It's the only way to the tower, but it's — it's completely out in the open. We'll have to run. Go left. You'll see the start of the spiral staircase. Go up."

There's a moment, half a second, where Theo considers running. Not forward. Back. Down and out of the house, back to Hogwarts. He can't fight a Death Eater. He doesn't know how to save anyone.

He was never supposed to be a hero.

He feels Neville's hand, strong in his grip, even as it shakes. He's braver than Theo, even on his worst day. But it's like a little bit of that courage flows between their connected palms and then the only direction Theo can see is forward.

"I love you," Neville whispers in his ear.

"I love you, too," Theo promises.

The two of them join in a brief but searing kiss, then drop each other's hands. They're ready to run.

Hermione is the one to open the door again, but this time, there's no careful checking through a crack. She throws the door open, swift and silent, and sprints.

They run across a wide, elegant landing at the top of a grand staircase. There are portraits everywhere that blur into a single mass as Theo sprints.

There is nothing. They are not attacked.

They don't stop running until they're up the narrow, curved stairwell and at the top of the tower.

The room they're in is dark — windowless, with low ceilings, only the tiniest bit of light coming up from the stairwell. Though perhaps it doesn't count as a room. It's more like a curving hallway, spiralling inward to the centre of the tower.

Theo heaves in several panting breaths.

This isn't the bright, open tower room with a view of the countryside Theo remembers. Either this is tucked above it, hidden away in the farthest reach of the tower, or the Dark Lord's been renovating.

Hermione turns around and casts a charm Theo doesn't recognise at the empty doorway at the top of the stairs.

"A shield charm," she explains. "It will only last a couple of minutes, but it should give us a start. Come on."

The four of them walk around the spiral, footsteps loud on the stone floor. Theo grabs Neville's hand again, and he takes Pansy's too, for good measure. As they get closer, a faint light appears, like someone up ahead has lit a wand.

Theo hears Hermione's small gasp half a second before he sees him.

Draco is screaming, though he's not making a sound. His hair is tinted a muddy red from blood and his face is shiny with sweat and more blood. He's tied to a wooden chair with what look like a thousand small ropes.

"You're not supposed to be here." A hoarse voice sounds from the shadows behind Draco.

A small, round man walks into the light, his wand held aloft in a silver hand.

"You!" Hermione cries, her wand slashing through the air before Theo can even begin to react. "Incarcerous!"

He falls, landing face-first on the dusty stone floor as ropes appear out of nowhere to restrain him.

He wriggles onto his side, spitting dust out of his mouth. "Silly mudblood girl," he wheezes. "Not so clever now, are you?"

The man laughs as his body shrinks and contorts. A rat streaks out of the ropes, running towards the door. Oh. Theo's heard of Wormtail.

"Stupefy!" Pansy's aim is true and the rat freezes, knocked out. She kicks him disdainfully into a corner with the very tip of her shoe.

The moment the rat falls, Draco screams. The charm keeping him silent must have worn off when Wormtail was stunned. Not so for whatever's causing the screaming. He doesn't seem like he's noticed them, completely overwhelmed as he is by agony.

Hermione's the first to reach him. She touches a hand to his wrist where it's bound to the chair and immediately yanks her hand back, yelping in pain.

"Hermione, what is it?" Theo whispers urgently.

"It's the ropes," she explains, voice weak. "They must be charmed to cause pain. He must be — It's barbaric."

"How do we get them off?" Neville asks. "Quickly?"

Hermione shakes her head, slipping into problem-solving mode. "Not quickly. They're individual ropes, not one long one, like an incarcerous. We'll have to sever them one at a time."

"Okay," Pansy says, pointing her wand at the first rope around Draco's fingers, unbinding the very tip of his hand from the chair. The rope falls away and drops to the floor.

Theo and Neville move in, each starting in on a leg, while Pansy and Hermione work over his hands and arms.

There's a hitch in the wailing, a stutter, as a few more of the ropes fall away. "I told you —" Draco groans, grinding his teeth, "not to come."

The moment of lucidity passes quickly and they lose him again, to pain and vacant eyes.


"You didn't think we'd listen, did you?" Hermione answers, her voice strong and clear against his screams.

She severs the ropes around his neck. One, then another one, then another one.

"We're going to get you out," she continues calmly, the last rope around his neck falling away. "Everything is going to be fine."

Her focus is absolute. It has to be. She has no idea how they're going to get out of this tower, but that doesn't matter now. They can't move until Draco is free. That's her only thought — free Draco.

She severs the rope binding his forehead to the chair. With his head and half of his arms free, he breathes for a little longer between shouts, shrieks at a slightly lower volume. It's working, they're helping, they can do this, they can get him out.

"Mother," he groans.

"No," she says, "I'm sorry. It's me, Hermione."

"Granger… idiot…" he mumbles. Pansy snorts.

"We'll get Narcissa," Pansy promises. "We won't leave without her."

He mutters something that Hermione doesn't catch, his head lolling to the side, breath coming heavily but quietly. He's about halfway freed.

"She's in the painting room?" Pansy replies to his mutterings, understanding what Hermione missed. "That's good. That's close to here."

"Now," Draco demands.

"We can free you first," Hermione says soothingly. "It will be faster with all four of us."

"Pans, please," Draco groans, ignoring Hermione. "There's a passage —"

"From the main tower room behind the portrait of Armand Malfoy. I know," Pansy completes his sentence for him. "I'll get her."

"No, Pansy, not by yourself!" Hermione sends her a sharp look.

"Yeah," Theo agrees, "we won't be much longer."

"And we said we weren't going to split up," Neville reminds her.

"Is that Longbottom?" Draco asks, seeming to have just noticed Neville. He shakes his head, wincing at the movement. "Pans, I wouldn't ask, but —"

"I know," she says. "I'm going. And I'll be fine. I can feel it — Felix, remember? I'll go down one level in the tower, cast another one of those shield charms on the stairs and slip through. We'll be back before you're done."

Pansy stands and, with a quick kiss to Draco's forehead, is out of the room, her footsteps fading rapidly around the spiral.

Hermione chews on her lip as she works. She doesn't have any spare focus with which to worry about Pansy. There's nothing but ropes and severing charms and Draco.

"What are these ropes anyway?" Theo asks.

Draco's face slips into a ghost of his familiar steer of disdain. "The Dark Lord's new invention. Imbued with the cruciatus, right in the fibres."

"Ouch," Theo remarks.

Draco cracks half a smile, wincing. "You really shouldn't have come."

"Yes, we should have," Hermione insists. "We should have been here hours ago."

He shakes his head. "I knew what I was getting into. I didn't — don't want any of you to get hurt. Not for me. I don't deserve it."

Hermione severs three more ropes, finally freeing his left arm. She moves to the right, to finish what Pansy started.

"No," she says finally, "you don't deserve what's happened to you. You have been so brave and — Merlin, when I thought I'd lost you — I never want to feel that again Draco. When we get out of here…"

"What?" he asks breathlessly, something almost resembling hope appearing in his eyes.

She pauses her work for a moment, eyes rising to meet his gaze. "I'm never letting you go again."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she says, breaking out into a grin. "I was proud and scared and stupid before. I thought I couldn't love you, or that I shouldn't, but I was wrong. There's nothing about you that's unloveable. Nothing at all."

She feels like her heart falls out of her chest, then starts again, faster and louder than before. Like she's finally allowing it to speak.

"I think I'm hallucinating," he says. "Nothing as good as you could be real."

"I'm real, Draco," she says, entwining her fingers with his and brushing her other hand over his blood-reddened hair. "And I –– I love you."

Hermione presses her lips to his, soaking in every bit of his softness and warmth. When she closes her eyes, it's like they're back in his dorm room, or the Room of Requirement, or a Hogwarts alcove — anywhere but here.

"I love you too, Hermione," he murmurs when they pull apart, a mere breath away from her lips. "If we survive this, I'm going to be so much better. I'll be a good boyfriend and I'll be nice to Potter and — fuck, anything you want. I'll do anything for you."

"Okay," is all she can think to say. "Okay, let's do that. Let's survive this."

Her hand shakes as she moves to sever the last few ropes on his arm.

"Erm," Neville's voice squeaks into her consciousness. "We're done down here. His — your — legs are free."

"Oh, gosh," Hermione says, finding room amid her fear and elation for a little bit of mortification. "Right, well, that's your arm done too."

"Okay," Theo says, breathing deeply. "Let's go." He holds his hand out for Draco, who takes it and lets Theo pull him unsteadily to his feet. His knees shake.

Neville rushes up to support his other side.

"So," Draco asks breathlessly, shakily. "What's the plan?"

Leave. That's the only plan she has. Get out, run down and back through the kitchens. And they need to find Pansy and Mrs. Malfoy.

And worst of all, she feels no certainty, or even optimism. Not anymore - the potion is gone. There's nothing now but fear and despair.

"I don't know," she says. "I think our luck ran out."