Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Graces Malfoy & Thomas Higgs, who are my own. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or settings contained within. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line
Author's notes: Big thank you to my beta Denarii for editing the chapter and Aleah for reading it over!
And I am sooo sorry for this being so late guys! I had a hard time getting the flow right for the beginning.
Special thanks to superscarface83, J3VF, Blue Luver5000, franchesca, Bharm, draconusmarauder, Manoirmalfoys, Phoenix and Noone297!
Chapter 44
"We have two families coming over today that wish to reclaim their daughter's bodies and bury them in their own families plot," Draco began, ruffling through some more papers.
"Wh-who?"
"The Macmillans and the Abbotts," Draco informed off handedly, trying to find the necessary forms that would allow Thomas to practice magic outside of Hogwarts.
"I-it's f-fine."
Draco looked up from his stack of papers and evaluated Thomas as he shifted some blueberries around in his oatmeal.
"Is it?" he asked, leaning back and lowering his quill. "Is it truly fine? Were these girls not part of your family? Did they not wish to take on the Higgs name? Was it not in their wishes to be buried beside their husbands?"
Thomas didn't answer any of the questions, he just looked up tiredly and waited for Draco to continue. It seemed nothing he decided was right. He would say one thing and Draco would point out a million other different angles of the argument. No decision came without a list of why it was wrong.
"A statement needs to be made, Thomas. Those girls were Higgs. Do not allow anyone to forget that. It could make the difference later in an alliance. You will tell those families no. Graces will come with you to the meeting so she can speak on your behalf. Just sit there looking stern. If you want her to add anything have her lean down and whisper it in her ear. Understood?"
Draco had a feeling that Thomas wanted to argue, that he would rather just give the families the bodies and have it over and done with, but Thomas said nothing and just continued to push around blueberries.
"Thomas, you need to start behaving like a patriarch."
"Wh-why? Y-you and G-graces seem t-to be d-d-doing f-fine," Thomas said sullenly.
"That's not fair. We're trying to help you." Thomas said nothing, just continued to pick at his breakfast. "DAMN IT, THOMAS. LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!"
"What's going on in here!?" Graces demanded, striding into the foyer with Octavian wrapped up in her arms. "Draco, I could hear you from the nursery and if I can hear you the baby can hear you," Graces snapped angrily. "There is no reason for any of our voices to be raised like that."
"Thomas is being a sullen child," Draco growled. "I yelled at him in lieu of killing him."
There was a loud noise as Thomas' heavy chair screeched against the floor before the young boy stormed out of the room stomping on each step of the stair before slamming the heavy door to his room.
"Was that necessary?" Graces hissed, bouncing the now fussing child in her arm.
"I'm getting very tired of all this, Graces. I tell him again and again to behave the way a man should and day after day he behaves as a child."
"He is a child."
"I am not going to argue with you about this again," Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "You're right. I don't want to be yelling in front of Octavian and if I discuss Thomas with you it's just going to become a screaming match, which I am far too tired to get into."
"Your uncle Draco is a grumpy wizard, Octavian," Graces cooed happily over the child's fussing. "Yes he is. Yes he is. Now you need to stop your fussing or you'll have ugly lines etched in your face. Just-like-him. And you're far too handsome for that. Yes you are. Yes you are." Draco ground his teeth together and tried to ignore Graces. He didn't even look over at her as she took her seat beside him and began fixing a bottle.
"You can ask a house elf to do that," Draco muttered as she shook the bottle loudly.
"Octavian doesn't like the cracking sound they make when they appear."
Draco rolled his eyes and held his tongue on his opinion of that. Octavian should get used to such things. It would upset him for the first week, but after that it would just be a normal sound.
"He's so cute," Graces cooed, brushing her hand against the child's soft skin. "If I could I would just take you home. Yes I would. Yes I—"
"Thomas just finished his will this morning," Draco broke in, unable to stand the sound of Graces' high-pitched motherese. "You are to be left Octavian in the event of his death. The boy will inherit all of the Higgs estate and money and you shall act as Matriarch until he reaches sixteen. Thomas seemed to feel that seventeen wasn't soon enough."
"M-me?" Graces stuttered, taken aback. " But no one asked me. Th-this is something I should be ask—"
"I said it was fine; I spoke on your behalf," Draco drawled, an inquisitive frown beginning between his brows. "Do you not want the child?"
"I should have been asked, Draco."
"Would you have said no?" Graces hesitated a moment before declaring she would not have. "Then I see no problem."
Draco went back to the document needed to ensure Thomas would be able to use magic outside of Hogwarts. If there had been anyone magical other than Thomas living in the house the document wouldn't be necessary. The Ministry would not be able to tell if it was Thomas performing magic or an adult, but unfortunately with Alethea being a squib, he needed to get Ministry approval. Doesn't look like it will be much of a process with Thomas already emancipated… Just need to dot the I's and cross the T's…
"Who is the Godfather?" Graces asked quietly, taking a piece of toast from a tray.
"I am," Draco said simply.
"And he is still choosing to leave the child with me?" Graces questioned, obviously a bit startled for the news.
"I did not question Thomas' choice. He seemed to feel you were more appropriate to raise Octavian. I did not ask why. It's not my decision to make." Graces just nodded and continued to nibble at her breakfast, every once in a while looking down to make sure no crumbs had fallen on the infant. "Has Thomas held the child at all since the verdict?"
"Uh… no," Graces admitted hesitantly. Praying that she would not have to sit through another one of Draco's lectures.
"That needs to be addressed. I don't want the squib being the only figure in the beginnings of this child's life. She plans on moving back to the muggle world once Thomas graduates and if Thomas has no bond with Octavian that will only hurt the child. Talk to him and address this."
"Also, see to it that the squib gets the rest of her things from the muggle world and arrange for a house elf to get her anything she needs from Diagon Alley. I would rather her be dressed appropriately for the funeral. Muggle dress will not do. As a matter of fact, have her whole wardrobe replaced."
"Speaking of the squib is she back from the muggle world yet? I mean how long does it take to resign from a position."
"She said she would be back this evening. It's still morning," Graces pointed out.
"Well, make sure when she gets back that she remembers to sign those papers from the Ministry. Our solicitors have already reviewed them and everything seems to be fine. Thomas has signed the last few papers giving her a vault at Gringotts. It seems he's being rather generous with her portion of the estate. Make sure she takes notice of that."
"Have you decided when we can open the gates to allow people to give formal condolences?"
"People may give formal condolences at the funeral," Draco shrugged, not bothering to look up from the form he was reading. "I don't want the gates opened."
"It's traditional for them to be open the week before the funeral," Graces argued outraged.
"I've discussed it with Thomas and we have agreed to keep them closed. End of discussion. I know you were planning on announcing the funeral in the paper, so be sure to explain the Higgs are not receiving guests beforehand in the announcement."
"Anything else?" Graces asked sourly.
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," Draco continued, giving his sister a warning glance. "There is no way we can entomb this many members in the Higgs family mausoleum. Another way of burial needs to be planned. Talk to Thomas about other options." Draco pushed a handful of blueprints and papers towards Graces. "That is the land I feel we should use, along with Thomas' Gringotts account. The other papers are what I feel is appropriate to spend in the burial. Figure something out today so the announcement can be made tomorrow."
"Of course, my Lord," Graces bowed, rolling her eyes as she moved to leave the room.
"Graces." The blonde stopped and waited for her brother to continue, her annoyance written all over her face. "I will not deal with two sullen teenagers. Do I make myself clear?"
"You know, your impression of our father isn't that good," Graces commented innocently, tilting her head to the side. "Father never showed his anger when reprimanding. It made it more frightening, don't you think? We were left wondering how close to the line we were."
"We are supposed to be a team," Draco reminded, standing to his feet. "I need you to be on the same page as me."
"If we're a team start talking to me and stop ordering me," Graces snapped, leaving the room.
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"Isn't it beautiful?" Graces asked, gesturing around the large flowery field. "It isn't done. We are going to place more flowers throughout it and a walkway winding through. Build a wall surrounding the area covered with rose vines and a gazebo in the middle with a memorial plaque. Everyone will have a picture hanging on the walls surrounding it with a small plaque built into the frame in lieu of a tombstone."
Thomas just nodded quietly and wandered around the area, giving no hint to whether he approved of this decision or not.
"Are-are you still upset about the cremation?" Graces asked nervously. "Because the ashes are buried into the ground, Thomas. There's no way for the wind to scatter them away."
"Are th-they h-here n-n-now?" Thomas asked, staring out into the field.
"Yes," the blonde whispered, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "They're all here, darling. Every last one. I oversaw the process of putting them to rest myself."
"M-may I h-have a m-m-moment?"
"Take as long as you wish," Graces murmured tightly, kissing his cheek gently before leaving him.
Thomas hesitated for a few minutes before he started walking into the field. In the back of his mind he kept thinking that he was stepping on his family members. That they were below him now as he continued to walk through the fields and inspect the flowers growing around. He tried to imagine it as Graces described. Full of flowers, encased within walls and moving pictures. Happy memories were going to be surrounding him when Graces was finished. He was going to see his family's happiest moments against walls.
It felt wrong. He didn't know why, but it did. For a moment he wondered if it was having this place of mourning with smiling happy faces of the dead. Brief moments of their life showcased while their ashes laid beneath the soil: Antincia sticking her tongue out at the camera on her 7th birthday, Avery's graduation photo when he finished Hogwarts, his mother and father curled up in a love seat on Christmas morning…
They were all going to be here, all going to be represented. Graces' idea was beautiful and yet he didn't feel right about it. He felt as if something was wrong.
Maybe nothing is wrong. Maybe something is missing.
Thomas stood looking around the field trying to think of what more he would want added. But as hard as he tried he couldn't find a single detail that Graces had skipped over. Everything was going to be perfect. Nothing was missing. They were all here. All going to be represented.
All except me.
Thomas rolled that thought around in his head. Was that the missing piece? Did he really feel that way? Like he himself should also be underneath this soil. He looked down at the ground beneath him and wondered if that was what he wanted. His whole life his family and he had been inseparable. They were not just the people that he shared blood with, they were part of his identity. He always had them. He had never once been alone like this. Even when he didn't have friends at Hogwarts they were there, bombarding him with letters and care packages. Now they were all together in the ground and he stood living on top. It wasn't right. He should be with them.
"Thomas?" Thomas opened his eyes and wondered when he had laid down on the ground. He turned over on his back and saw his aunt standing above him.
"L-l-leave m-me al-lone," he sobbed, turning back to the soil and watering it with his tears. To Thomas' annoyance his aunt did not leave him alone, instead she sat down in the dirt and gently started rubbing his back.
"I'm sorry they're gone."
"N-no y-you're n-not," Thomas snarled. "Y-You h-hat-ted th-them."
There was a long silence that followed Thomas' words. The young boy gritted his teeth against the grass and prayed that Alethea would just leave, but he heard no sounds of her departure.
"I don't hate them. At least I haven't in a long time," Alethea said quietly. "They were my family too and I loved them. I couldn't help but love them. Even when I didn't want to love them I did. It's-it's always been complicated for me. I hated how they had hindered my happiness and yet could never bring myself to hate them."
"W-we d-d-didn't h-hind-der anyth-thing. Y-you g-g-got everyth-thing y-you w-wanted. Y-you're b-being s-self-fish. Th-the wh-whole f-family s-still t-tried t-to inc-clude y-you. Y-you w-were inv-v-vited t-to e-every event."
Thomas didn't need to look up from the ground to know that his aunt wanted to say more. There was this tangible silence around them and he knew that Alethea wanted to say more on the subject of her estrangement for the family, but she didn't. Thomas wondered if it was because this was not the time or place with them all at rest below them or if possibly he had been right in all that he said and she had no excuse. He doubted the last part though. Alethea didn't seem like the kind of woman that would just take his statements without her own counter argument. He didn't want to hear it, though. Nothing she could say would make him think his family was wrong. He may have not joined them in death, but he joined them in their belief. Family was all and she didn't value that. She chose a life of solitude with a muggle over those that truly loved her.
"Flowers and other arrangements are arriving now. I thought you would want to oversee the arrangements being sent," Alethea whispered quietly. "Graces seems to be organizing where they will be placed for tomorrow, but I thought you would want to be involved. See who is thinking of you."
Thomas continued laying on the ground waiting for the motivation to get back up and return to the living. He wondered if it would ever come or if for the rest of his life he would have to force himself to go on. Each step towards living felt like he was leaving his family behind. He wished Alethea would just leave. Graces said he could have all the time he wanted.
"Thomas, I know this is hard, that you miss them and you feel—"
Thomas scurried to his feet, ignoring his aunt's attempt at comforting and hurrying over to where Graces stood directing flower arrangements. He didn't want to hear about how Alethea knew this was hard. She couldn't possibly know. No one could know.
"Thomas?" Graces asked, looking at his swollen eyes and angry lips before casting her glare on Alethea.
"Wh-where's Octavian?"
Graces frowned at the question. She was unsure if Thomas was asking because of a true interest or just as a way to not discuss whatever was upsetting him.
"My mother has him. She's working out some last minute details before the funeral tomorrow and she said she didn't mind taking him. Is everything okay, Thomas? You look upset."
"M-my f-family w-was s-slaught-tered. Of course I'm ups-set."
Graces nodded embarrassedly and cleared her throat.
"A lot of families have sent plants to be put in the ground," Graces told, reaching for something to say. "It's a lovely thought, don't you think?"
Graces waited for Thomas to say more, but the young boy just nodded and looked around at the multitude of flowers being taken into the garden for planting.
"Wh-who s-sent th-that?"
Graces looked over to what Thomas was staring at and began walking over to where a man in muggle clothing was planting a tree. It was stunning. Soft pink riotous blooms covered the canopying branches. It was by far the most captivating piece to be sent, but Graces had apparently overlooked it as it entered.
The houselves must have sent him to set it up while I was discussing seating arrangements.
The florist planting the brightly pink tree stuck out like a sore thumb. While other florists that were making deliveries were dressed fashionably and having house elves do the heavy labor, he was down on his knees, wand in hand, working with the soil and mighty roots unaware of the dirty glares he was getting from the others present.
"Wh-who w-would s-send a m-muggleb-born f-florist?" Thomas asked curiously.
Graces was beginning to have an idea, but bit her tongue from mentioning her thoughts as the freckled man saw her and Thomas approaching.
"Good morning," he greeted kindly, bowing slightly before Thomas and Graces in a way that confirmed to them that he was indeed muggleborn. "I hope this area is okay, the older woman requested it be put by the gazebo."
Graces took a moment to observe the trees placement. It did seem fitting for such an elaborate tree to be placed there
"It's fine," she clipped. "What is it?"
"This? This is a cherry blossom," the man said proudly. "They grow in Japan. They represent how beautiful and short-lived life can be. Fitting for a memorial garden, don't you think?"
"Very," Graces breathed, moving under the canopying branches and tentatively running her fingers along a few petals.
"It also was spelled to only have a specific number of blooms. Each flower represents a member of the family that is buried here and it is also made to bloom every month."
"A lot of thought went into it," Graces noted, moving away from the tree. "Who sent it?"
"My client wishes to remain nameless."
"Does he now?" Graces said slowly, having a strong feeling that Neville sent this tree. "Any particular reason why?"
"He didn't say and I didn't ask. It was a thoughtful gesture, he probably didn't want the attention of thanks."
Thomas scowled at this information and nodded for Graces to join him for a private word.
"Wh-why w-would anyone w-want t-to rem-m-main an-nonym-mous?"
"It was probably someone who wanted to express condolences, but didn't want you to think they wanted to offer a formal alliance," Graces whispered, hoping that would be convincing enough. It worked. Thomas nodded and began walking away from the tree and over to the other florists that were delivering flowers of sympathy.
"Was it Neville Longbottom?" Graces asked, turning back to the man behind her. "Did he send this?"
The tan-skinned man blushed and began repeating himself about it being anonymous, but his nervousness told Graces everything. It was Neville. He sent this piece for Thomas. It was a lovely gesture on Neville's part. Foolish and rash like any other Gryffindor gesture, but lovely in meaning. She made a mental note to thank him and refrain from scolding him.
"The funeral is tomorrow morning, will you be finished by tonight?"
"I'll be finished in an hour."
Graces nodded and hurried over to where her mother had just arrived with Octavian. The day was already beginning to wear on her. There was so much to do and so little time. Half of the real issues she needed to address were not even spoken of. One of them being Thomas' meeting with the Dark Lord.
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It was a sunny day. Graces didn't expect that. It all seemed ill-placed. The golden light washing over the garden surrounding all the plants and pictures of happy faces covering everything in a honey-like hue. This was the kind of day where you packed a picnic and sat in the grass laughing with those you loved, not the kind of day you buried them.
But that was unfortunately the day it was. Exhausted from the long week of planning, she leaned against Draco and allowed her own mournful tears of loss to trail down her cheeks as people continued to go up front and say what a tragedy the Higgs Massacre was. Around them was a beautiful garden, but every person seated knew the truth. The world was ugly. And now it was uglier with the loss of so many good, decent people.
Graces closed her eyes as Draco brought his arm around her and gently rubbed his thumb on her shoulder. They had been so ill at ease with each other since the letters came, but now it was all forgotten. Now they were once again back in their realm of comfort. She had been so mad at Draco for pushing Thomas, barking orders and not allowing anyone a moment of grief, but now that they were here and all was done, she understood he was right. So many things needed to be taken care of and had they taken the time to grieve as it happened they would have succumbed to only that pain. Now the initial sting of loss had passed and they were left with only the ache of loss.
She looked over at the young man sitting next to her. He was doing well so far. He had silently greeted guests, nodding his head mournfully at their well wishes and condolences. He looked so ill-placed in a way: grown up in that there were no signs of childhood left in his eyes and a child in that his features were still not fully developed. Graces wondered if he would be forever wounded or if his wounds could heal.
Silently, she reached for Thomas' hand while her left arm still cradled the sleeping child. Thomas took her hand, but just continued to stare blankly at the man speaking at the podium. He had not shed a single tear during the funeral. He just continued to go through the motions of daily living and interaction. While people all around him sobbed, he sat with a blank, detached look. Graces had no idea how to help Thomas. She thought that he just needed to grieve, but she had given him opportunities for that and still he seemed gone to this world.
Something needed to change and Graces had no idea how to make that change happen. If it were possible she would take on all of the new responsibilities that Thomas had been left with, but she couldn't. Thomas had to. Without letting go of his hand, she stared at Octavian. Fatherhood was usually something a man chose. And she had no idea how to make a boy take up such a responsibility. It wasn't like Octavian was his child. Thomas had done nothing to bring this upon himself, and yet here he was sitting beside her responsible for this tiny life.
Draco began to shift beside her and a moment later her left side became lonely as Draco moved to stand at the podium.
"I hope everyone here can understand why Thomas and Alethea Higgs have asked me to speak for them," Draco began, his silver eyes sweeping over all before him. Graces couldn't help but admire how strong and proud Draco could look. When tragedy had struck their family he had looked so lost, but he had grown since then and with that growth he had become more of a man and less of a boy.
"He looks so much like your father," Narcissa whispered. Graces looked over at her mother and wondered why she had such a darkened look on her face before giving her attention back to her brother.
"Thomas and Alethea have no words to describe their grief," Draco continued, "and no speech in mind that could do the lives of their family members justice. On this note the Higgs clan would like to invite all to to walk along the garden path and look at the photos that show brief glimpses into the beautiful lives lost."
It was then as Draco gestured to the garden that she saw the fey bracelet Clarence had made him peeking out from his suit. In so many ways Draco was Lucius and in so many ways he was different. Uniquely Draco.
Tears rose and burned the back of her eyes as Draco approached her. She loved him so much. It was an overwhelming love she had for him and it was small things like his sentiment of keeping a fey bracelet that reminded her of why she did. No one knew Draco like she did. No one would ever know him like her. He had his faults, and an endless list of them, but he mostly just put on a show. He looked strong in that suit, but lift up the sleeves and you could see a bracelet and mark that spoke volumes of his own pain and torment. Pain and torment that he silently bore.
"It was a fine speech, Draco," Narcissa declared gently, kissing her son's forehead.
"I wouldn't call that a speech, mum," Draco smiled sadly, already moving to be beside his sister. "We should all probably go mingle. Gods forbid we are not anything but perfect hosts."
"Mum, will you stay with Thomas and Octavian?" Draco asked tiredly. "Graces and I can direct people around the garden to where their loved ones' pictures are."
"Of course," Narcissa whispered, gently taking Octavian from Graces and beckoning for Thomas to follow her away from the crowds. Graces watched them leave and fought the urge to go after them.
"He'll be fine," Draco reassured, kissing her head. "He's with mum. She'll make sure he doesn't have to speak to anyone. I talked to her earlier. She's going to direct people away by saying he's having a private moment."
"I'm nervous for him. He doesn't know our mother that well, maybe we should—"
"What we should be doing is mingling so that he doesn't have to," Draco interrupted, placing his hands on her shoulders.
Graces had agreed that Draco was right. Both her and her brother started walking around the garden separately expressing their condolences and showing people to this picture and that, every once in a while thanking them for some memorable plant and directing them to where it was planted.
It seemed like every pureblood family in the wizarding world had been somehow touched by this tragedy. Even some of the Abbots were there, though Graces didn't linger long with them. They had lost their good standing with society almost two decades ago when Hannah's father married her muggle mother. Still, Hannah's family was connected when her aunt married a Higgs.
The Higgs were always more understanding of such things. Though they never allowed any marriages outside of purebloods, they had no problems marrying into families that had such stains in their line. Her father once said it was because they had no choice, there were too many of them to be so picky, but she had a feeling that wasn't it, not since meeting Alethea.
"Graham?" Graces hurried over the walkway to where Graham was standing in the grass. She hadn't thought he had come. She had seen his family sitting a few rows back during the memorial and he hadn't been seated with them. "Graham, I didn't realize you were here," Graces breathed, trying hard to move over to where he was without her heels digging into the grass. "Why weren't you sitting with your family?"
Graham didn't answer and as Graces came up beside him she silenced her questions.
"She was pretty, wasn't she?" Graham whispered, staring at the picture of Arella laughing at a Quidditch match with her family. "You don't notice that sort of thing when you're a brother… I never noticed she was that pretty, but she was." Graces nodded quietly, not knowing what to say. Graham didn't notice the awkward silence though he just continued to stare at his sister's photo. "Do you think Draco knows you're pretty?"
Graces blushed at the comment and awkwardly fiddled with the glamoured ring on her left hand.
"I tell him enough," she smiled, trying to defuse the situation with humor. Another pregnant silence followed and Graces inwardly began debating if she should leave.
"I'm sorry," Graham said, turning and facing her for the first time. "About how I behaved that night."
"Oh, Graham, no. Don't—"
"No, I-I shouldn't have behaved that way. It it wasn't right… I'm sorry." Graham's newly haunted eyes bored into her silver ones, begging for forgiveness that wasn't needed. Graces stared up at them for a moment and realized that forgiveness wasn't what he was asking for. He was asking for forgetfulness. He didn't want her to remember him like that: torn apart by fear, rage and sorrow. He wanted things to be back as they were, for her to still see him as the she had before.
"Do you like the flowers?" she asked, gesturing to the carnations growing under Arella's portrait. "I remember it was carnations at the wedding, I thought it would be nice to have them here under her and Terence's photos."
"They're beautiful," Graham nodded, his eyes going to the flowers planted under his nephews. "White lilac?"
"Youthful innocence and memories," Graces explained. "I had white lilac planted near all the children's portraits."
Graham brushed his hand over his nephews photos and Graces looked away as she saw some tears begin in his eyes.
"How can you kill children?" he asked darkly, moving his hand away as though he suspected that touching their photos when angry would somehow taint their resting ground. "What kind of… thing kills children as a means to an end?"
"I'm so sorry, Graham," Graces breathed, her frame shaking. "I-I'm so sorry. I can't even—"
The blonde fell silent as Graham reached out and took her hand in his, not even bothering to look at her, just continuing to stare at the photos before him, his face hardening as the time ticked past. Graces looked around and saw that many other people passing by were taking note of Graham holding her hand like this and standing so near.
"My father has decided to remain the same in our decision," he whispered. "Each family member is free to decide on their own. He is not going to press anyone's choice or decide for us all. He is still choosing to remain neutral. He's doing it out of spite. Arella and my nephews' death has… well, you can imagine what that does to a father."
"Since your father is allowing you to decide on your own, what will you decide?"
"He murdered my sister and her children," Graham said hollowly. "It's not exactly a decision you can make in a week."
"Thomas has had to…"
"Graces, I need to tell you something," Graham whispered, bending his head down so only she could hear.
"What is it?"
Graham looked around at the people walking past. All around them there were people. Not one single space in the garden was unoccupied. Most were silently walking along the path, tearfully looking at the pictures and searching for their loved ones, but many were in discussion with other families that were mourning their losses. Graham seemed wary to talk to Graces in such a crowded area, but she could tell by the way the young man tightened his jaw he was determined to talk to her.
"I need you to cry, Graces," he said lowly, avoiding her gaze.
"What?" Graces asked confused. "Why do—"
"Just do it," Graham gritted, reminding Graces of being on the pitch.
"I don't understand why you want me to cry," Graces continued dropping her voice as a couple walked by. "It doesn't make sense, Graham. Why can't we just talk somewhere private at a later time? Why does it have to be now?"
Graham didn't answer. He just continued to look forward, refusing to answer Graces' questions unless she cried. Well, it wasn't a hard request for her to fulfill. Between the massacre and lack of sleep she was always able to cry. The trick these days was not crying. Graces hiccuped a tiny sob, to notify the boy beside her that she was fulfilling his request.
"Oh, Graces, come here," Graham shushed, moving his broad arms so they were now around her and pulling her head into his chest. "It's okay," he whispered, his lips pressed against her head. "It's all going to be okay." There was a few moments where he said nothing, but continued to shush her, silently giving her the cue to cry harder. "Put your arms around my neck," Graham ordered, keeping his voice muffled against her hair.
Graces obeyed and tried to hide her discomfort as he nuzzled himself in the crook of her neck. She played her part crying uncontrollably and tightening her hold around Graham's neck while the older boys pulled her closer. To all around they looked like two people seeking comfort in their mourning.
"Thomas is in danger," Graham murmured just under her ear.
"What?" Graces tried to pull away, but Graham readjusted his hold. They were now hovering only a few inches from one another, Graham's right hand cupping her face while his left arm kept her chest to chest with him. The proximity of Graham's lips to hers made her uneasy, but she tried to hold still as he brushed his thumb under her eyes, like he was wiping away tears.
"Graces," he whispered. "I need you to keep calm and listen to me. Okay? Now, I overheard a conversation the other day between my uncle and a friend of is going to be brought before the Dark Lord, but not to make him bow down. To kill him." Graces felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and she was now grateful that Graham was holding her up. "He wants to appear as though he is giving the Higgs clan a chance at redemption, but he doesn't need Thomas. He is going to use him to further his message."
"I don't understand. Graham, why would he—"
"Because he knows that Thomas will never be loyal to him. Not after this."
"Oh Gods," Graces croaked. "I need to get Thomas. Graham, let me go I need to—"
"No," Graham said evenly, now tightening his hold around her to the point it hurt. "You need to calm down and think of a plan. Don't go and scare Thomas or get you and your brother killed trying to save him. Take a breath, Gray. Cry it out a bit here and then think it over."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Graces whispered, allowing her head to rest on Graham's chest, no longer fighting him to leave.
"You would never forgive me if I didn't. You love Thomas." Graces looked up at Graham quizzically, before the Montague heir offered her a ghost of a smile. "I may favor the tike a bit too. I would hate to lose my keeper now that you're out of the game."
"Do you think I will be able to do anything?" Graces asked helplessly.
Graham didn't say anything, he just looked down at Graces with sympathetic eyes. He didn't think anything could be done and he wasn't skilled at hiding that.
"Ahem." Both students turned to see Draco standing stiffly behind them, his silver eyes silently evaluating the scene before him. Graces blushed and took a step away from Graham, but Draco was still staring at the pair of them as though she were still in his arms.
"Sorry," Graham gruffed out, folding his hands in front of him. "We were just—"
"I said I approved," Draco dismissed, waving his hand. "I just thought—"
"It's not like that, Draco," Graces continued. "It was just upsetting seeing their photos…"
Draco nodded his head in understanding and Graces wondered if he was a bit disappointed. While he definitely did not approve of them embracing in public, she wondered if he preferred her with Graham.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Graham," Draco said gently. "I wish I could say more, but these days I have few words." There was a long pause in which Graham just nodded awkwardly and Draco bit the inside of his cheek. "I, uh, also wanted you to know that I had no idea about the—"
"I never thought you did," Graham broke in, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding so horse. "It was clear neither you nor Graces knew. I'm just sorry I handled it all so poorly."
"Does this mean you're sorry for breaking my nose?" Draco mused aloud, a good natured smirk playing on the corner of his lips.
"I wouldn't go that far."
"You broke Draco's nose?" Graces asked scandalized.
"We got in a duel over the letters and he disarmed me, so I punched him," Graham shrugged. "He really didn't see that coming."
Graces tried to not giggle so obviously. It was nice to move past the sadness that had overcome everyone at the deaths, but she didn't feel right about outright laughing during a memorial.
"I should go be with my mother," Graham murmured, seeming to remember where they were as well. "I'll see you two later tonight at Hogwarts."
Graham shot Graces a look before leaving, his uneasiness about Thomas showing, but before Graces could give him any nod of reassurance he was gone.
"Is he doing well?" Draco asked, taking his sister's arm in his and strolling along the path.
"I believe so," Graces breathed, leaning her head against Draco's frame.
"What made you become so upset?"
"He was upset, so I became upset," Graces lied, deciding that she would not tell Draco of Thomas' predicament. "I'm not used to seeing Graham so emotional."
"Is it a side of him you like?" Draco asked, clearly trying to decipher if she could develop feelings for him.
"Graham is just a friend," she maintained.
"Let me know if that feeling changes."
"Are you wanting to marry me off so quickly?"
"I want you to be happy. And if your happiness could ensure you some security, I wouldn't be opposed."
"Graham's father is choosing to maintain their previous arrangement: each family member may choose for themselves."
Graces glanced up wanting to see Draco's expression at this news, but the blonde boy kept his expression schooled. It still told Graces though of what he thought. Draco usually only kept his face expressionless like their father if something displeased him. Her father on the other hand kept it the same no matter what.
"Do you know what Graham has decided?"
"He hasn't yet."
"I see."
"Are you worried?" Graces asked, slowing her pace.
"Graham is not mine to worry over," Draco reminded. "I have you, mother, father, Thomas and apparently a godson to devote my worries to. I like Graham, and hope he doesn't allow emotion to make his decision, but I can't allow myself to worry over it."
Graces nodded and continued to walk with her brother, looking over at the many faces in the crowd.
"Do you think their killers are here?" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
Graces swallowed hard at her brother's honesty, but did her best not to show how sick the realization made her.
"Try not to think about it," Draco advised.
"Where's Thomas?" Graces asked tightly looking around. Draco nodded over to the bench placed under the cherry blossom where Thomas sat feeding Octavian. He definitely didn't look affectionate towards the babe, but him taking the time to feed him himself was a great improvement. "How did that happen?"
"Mother. She handed him Octavian and walked away to greet some friends. Thomas didn't have much of a choice."
Graces moved forward to get a better look and smiled down at the two Higgs, despite Thomas' stony look.
"He likes you," Graces encouraged, nodding her chin to the way Octavian's tiny fist curled around Thomas' spare finger. It was a lie. Graces knew that was a reflex in infants, but Thomas' face softened at the comment and he seemed to be a bit more encouraged. He adjusted his hold so Octavian was closer to his chest and now was staring down at the boy instead of trying to ignore him in his arms. "You know," Graces mused innocently. "The nice thing about having a child is you can excuse yourself from functions. For example, no one would probably think twice if you left to put Octavian down for a nap or to keep him out of such cold weather."
Almost immediately Thomas stood to leave the garden, but unfortunately that was also the time that the Macmillans came over to see their grandson. The young boy stared at the older couple in front of him.
"We were hoping that we could take Octavian off your hands for a bit," Audrey Macmillan offered, clearly anxious over if the boy in front of her would allow such a visit after the court hearings.
"Thomas was taking Octavian home," Draco said coldly. "It's been a long day and he needs rest."
"Surely twenty more minutes wouldn't harm the child," Alvin Macmillan countered, placing a calming hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Are you sure?" Graces asked sardonically. "We wouldn't want anyone saying Thomas is negligent. Perhaps it would be best if he erred on the side of caution and left now."
"We didn't say Thomas was negligent," Audrey argued. "We just said that young men could be negligent."
"Implying that Thomas shouldn't even be given a chance."
"Could we speak with you alone, Thomas?" Alvin requested, ignoring Graces last comment. "In private as family."
Thomas raised a cool eyebrow, but made no motion to answer. Graces began to feel the onset of panic begin. Thomas was not going to speak in public, but he couldn't just ignore the Macmillans' request to speak. She wondered what he was going to do. The young man nodded, and curtly moved his chin dismissing both Graces and Draco, something that rubbed both Malfoys the wrong way. Graces followed Draco a few yards away, but kept her eyes on Thomas as he sat down on the desk and gestured for the Macmillans to continue their argument. Thomas lazily leaned back against the bench and listened intently to what the couple was saying. It was obvious they were asking for involvement with their grandson, something Thomas did not have to give. After a few moments the dark haired boy looked down at his watch and cautiously handed Octavian to his grandmother, his eyes not moving away from hers as he did so, the couple seemed pleased and nodded before walking away with Octavian over to the portrait hanging of his mother.
"What happened?" Graces asked, already over beside Thomas.
Thomas just waved his hand indicating they would talk later and watched the couple with Octavian. It felt like forever for Graces, but it was really only twenty minutes before the couple returned, handing the now sleeping child over. Thomas stood gracefully to receive the child, his eyes showing a great amount of distrust to the light family in front of him.
"I'll owl you," he said cryptically, taking his new son and walking away. Draco looked over at Graces and both twins wondered how long he had to build himself up to say those three words perfectly, before scurrying after Thomas and sending a sneering look behind them over at the Macmillans.
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
"It's going to be okay," Draco repeated, adjusting Thomas' collar so it laid pressed against him. "Just pledge your allegiance and do anything he says. You're going to be fine. After you'll come back to Hogwarts and can begin to put this behind you. I talked to another Death Eater. You won't be taking the mark. I'm assuming that the Dark Lord is going to wait till you're a 6th year. It's going to be okay, Thomas."
Thomas nodded his head nervously and bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. He wished Draco was coming with him. He didn't care that it was childish. He wanted Draco with him, but he understood why Draco couldn't come. The blonde boy had taken him aside after Octavian went down for a nap and explained what his situation was with the Dark Lord. If Draco came with him he could face some serious consequences.
"You will probably be cruciated," Draco murmured, his silver eyes avoiding Thomas'. "It's okay to scream and cry then. And your stutter will be explained probably if you seem terrified. Try not to stutter before being cruciated. There are a lot of purebloods that will be watching, the kind that will have no problem taking advantage of you. Be mindful of that."
There was nothing more that Draco could say after that. Thomas knew he was worried. He had not stopped tugging his left sleeve since after the funeral. He had a feeling that this was going to be more horrific than Draco was letting on, but that the blonde wanted to keep him from being too terrified. After taking a long breath, Thomas forced his feet into the hearth of the fireplace and took the floo powder. He really hated this part. He closed his eyes and mouthed Hogwarts for a good five minutes before actually saying the word aloud and spinning towards the school. When he finally landed in his destined area he was yanked forward into the room.
"G-graces?"
"Put these on," Graces ordered, throwing Thomas formal robes with his family colors.
"B-but I'm already w-wearing f-formal r-robes," he argued, growing more confused as each second passed.
"Thomas do not argue with me!" Graces shouted, clenching her hands together furiously. "Do what I say and do it now. We do not have time for this."
"Wh-why are y-you here? Y-you're supp-pposed t-to b-be—"
"Thomas," Graces began, clearly trying to appear more patient and less frazzled as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "I need you to just trust me. Put those robes on."
Thomas didn't understand what was happening, but something in Graces' demeanor told him that he was in danger. He anxiously began undressing and kept his mouth shut as Graces began hurriedly dressing him: buttoning this, pulling his arm through that.
"I'm going with you," Graces informed, tying his tie as he finished buckling his belt. "You will not argue with anything I say. You will not speak a word. You will follow my lead and under no circumstances display any of your magic. Do you understand me? Don't even think of using non-verbal spells or wandless magic, Thomas. Do only what I ask you to."
Thomas agreed, panic beginning to rise in him at Graces' statements.
"Th-the r-robes d-don't f-fit," he pointed out, holding his arms out. "Th-they're t-too b-big."
"I know," Graces whispered, looking down for a moment going over something in her mind. "I wanted you to appear like a child." Thomas scowled at this logic and waited for Graces to continue. "Thomas, I need you to appear like a child. Don't try to hide your nervousness or fear when we are before the Dark Lord. I need you to look like a child, do you understand me?"
Thomas nodded his head and tried to calm himself down. He could feel the panic setting in. Something was off, terribly off, so off that Graces hadn't told Draco. He wanted to go home and hide. If Graces wanted him to look terrified she should be happy because now he would look and feel the part. The blonde offered him a ghost of a smile and kissed his forehead gently.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Thomas. I swear."
Graces didn't linger after her declaration, she quickly rushed out of the room dragging Thomas by the hand behind her as her formal dress and robes billowed a ribbon of blue, silver and white: her own house's colors.
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"YOU ARE NOT COMING!" Snape snarled angrily, slamming his fist into an old, worn table that was covered with watermarks from endless mugs sitting on the bare wood. "THOMAS, COME HERE. WE ARE LEAVING!"
Snape reached for Thomas' arm, but Graces moved in front shielding him with her body. Thomas couldn't see Snape, being nestled into Graces chest, but he had an idea of how angry the potions professor was at this. Still, he allowed Graces to shield him and prayed that Snape would not harm her.
"Over my dead body," Graces choked, her fingers digging possessively into his back. "You are not taking Thomas. I won't let you. If you want Thomas you'll have to kill me. I'm not sending him to the Dark Lord to be slaughtered."
There was a long silence in which Thomas fully expected more screaming or a hex, but nothing came. Hesitantly he peeked an eye out from behind Graces' neck. Snape was staring at her in a way that made Thomas wonder where the potions professor's mind was. He certainly wasn't there with them in the room. His black eyes looked, if possible, darker and his pasty white skin seemed to grey.
"You are a foolish girl," Snape said darkly, turning away from them and walking towards the door, clearly expecting them to know to follow. They treaded through the Forbidden Forest, Graces not once releasing her hold on his hand even when he tripped over his too long robes. Thomas stared at her hair in the moonlight and her pale skin. While she had dressed him to look like a child, she had dressed herself to look like a woman. Her dress hugged her curves and dipped low in the front drawing attention to her chest. "We'll be apperating there," Snape stated once they were far enough away from the castle that they were no longer on Hogwarts grounds. He didn't ask any of them if they were ready or remind Graces she didn't have to come. He just placed his hands on them and they were gone.
Thomas never thought sidelong apparition could be any rougher than it already was, but he had been sorely mistaken. He pulled himself off the cold concrete and tried to disentangle himself from his overly large robes. The place they were in reeked of stale blood and rotted flesh, and the concrete he was standing on was littered with small bones from what looked like rats, birds and… human teeth.
"Mr. Thomas Higgs… and Miss Graces Malfoy. Well, well, isn't this a surprise."
Thomas immediately tensed at the way Graces' title was said. There was this gleeful malevolence to the words that chilled him to the bones.
"I hope you find it a pleasant surprise, my Lord," Graces voice said sweetly.
Thomas looked over to where the sounds were coming from. The room was dark and he could see Graces down on her knees kneiling before a large chair, but it was too dark to see the figure she was speaking to.
"Unannounced company is rarely pleasant," the snake like voice drawled, causing both Thomas and Graces to tense. "But perhaps this will be the exception."
Thomas could barely make out the eyes of the man in front of him, but immediately when they were on him he felt the hair on his neck stand up and dropped to his knees to kneel. He knew he was in the presence of the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort, the man that killed his and many other families and fear was starting to creep up his spine from it.
"Come closer," the Dark Lord ordered, the "s" drawing out slowly as a low hiss.
Thomas stood and began to approach cautiously, unsure of whether he should try to look forward or keep her eyes on the floor. Graces was still kneeling, her eyes trained to the ground. So he followed her example by moving to kneel beside her, unconsciously placing himself so that they were touching as they knelt. It was beginning to feel real now. And with reality setting in he began to feel disgust at kneeling before the man that killed his family.
"Look at me."
Thomas swallowed down as much of the anger as possible and looked up at the abomination before him. If Thomas had been in a right frame of mind he would have known better than to gawk in horror at one of the most powerful wizards alive, but he was too taken aback to show propriety. Scarlet eyes looked down upon him, from a face that resembled more a snake than man.
"You do not appreciate my appearance, Thomas?" the Dark Lord chuckled, causing a ripple of snickers from his followers that were aligned around the room. Thomas shook his head apologetically and veered his eyes downwards submissively. "No matter, I don't really care if young boys find my face pleasant to look at." Thomas breathed a small sigh of relief and prayed that he could just continue looking down at the ground. "However, I do care that you find everything about me repulsive. That you think I'm a mad man on a rampage and pray every night that someone, anyone, Potter or Dumbledore, will take me down." Panic flooded through Thomas' veins. He should have known that he would look in his mind. That he would see everything. "And you underestimate me." The Dark Lord smiled. "I have no use for those that would so easily betray me. It's too bad, such a strong line wiped out so quickly."
Thomas shrank back as he saw the long skeleton fingers take his wand and aim it towards him. He hoped it would just be the killing curse, just a flash of green and then he would be gone. He didn't want to die like many in his family: frightened, screaming and in pain. He didn't want his blood to be added to the scent that was filling the air like many before him.
"My Lord, forgive me, but I believe there is a way to make Thomas one of your most loyal followers and for you to gain another marked follower as well."
Thomas held his breath as Graces stood standing in front of him. Once again shielding him from any horrors.
"Graces," a woman's voice hissed, "move out of the way."
"I do not take my orders from you, Aunt Bella. If my Lord wishes me to move away I shall, but I hope he will at least allow me the privilege of speaking my piece."
Apparently Graces' aunt didn't approve of her talking back and had at once moved forward and was grabbing Graces by her arm trying to pull her away. But Graces didn't budge. Instead she pulled out her wand and aimed it at her aunt's face.
"Don't. Touch. Me," she whispered darkly, her teeth bared menacingly as the tip of her wand pushed her aunt farther away.
Bellatrix eyes widened at her niece's defiance and the crazed look that she had to her came into her features as she stared into Graces' silver eyes.
"All grown up now, darling?" she asked dangerously. "Think you can take me on?"
"I know I can," Graces challenged, her left foot sliding into a dueling position. "I'm almost the top in my class and seeing as how you had difficulty with some of my lower classmates…" Graces allowed her voice to trail off suggestively.
"You little—"
"Also, I feel you should be reminded, my darling aunt, that the last time you tried to reprimand me for not obeying you my mother took a dagger to your throat."
Bellatrix paused for a moment before taking a step back and falling back in line. Thomas wondered how powerful Narcissa was. He had never really seen her display any real skills. She usually just stood beside her husband or performed spells any ordinary housewife would perform. However, he did know she was fiercely protective of her children. It was common knowledge that she ripped out a house elf's tongue for proclaiming Draco a bad boy after he tore up his father's office when he was four. Bellatrix certainly seemed to feel that she should be wary of her sister. Or perhaps it was something more simple. Maybe she truly did love her sister and didn't wish for her to never see her again. Either way, Graces' threat of her mother worked.
"Attachment is an interesting concept, don't you agree my Lord?" Graces asked casually, her wand still held towards her aunt. "People will do anything for their loved ones. My mother would kill for me. My aunt would lower her wand and take humility over my mother's anger and disownment. And I can assure you with my life that Thomas will give the same faithfulness to you."
Thomas frowned at Graces last sentence, unsure of what exactly she was saying.
"Thomas loves me," Graces continued. "You've seen how Draco reacts to the threat of my life; Thomas would react in the same way. Killing the boy does nothing really. It just spills pure blood and destroys a family line. Thomas is a child. Children need to be taught. It isn't his fault he was taught wrong. I can teach him. I can ensure you that if you allow him to live he will be one of your most devoted. All you have to do is make me accountable for him. If he thinks, says or does something wrong don't punish him, punish me."
"No!" Thomas was now on his feet, pulling at the material of Graces' dress trying desperately to get her to stop talking.
"And also if you do this I will take the mark," Graces declared over Thomas' protests.
"Your brother has demanded that you not take the mark." Voldemort reminded.
"I'll be seventeen this summer, old enough to do as I please, despite my Patriarch's orders. I'll take the mark for Thomas as Draco has done for me."
"P-please s-stop. Don't."
"Thomas!" Graces snapped, turning round on him. "Keep your mouth shut or I will shut it for you."
"He doesn't seem to be very mindful," the Dark Lord cackled.
"Children just need to be taught," Graces repeated, moving Thomas behind her and digging her nails into his arms angrily. "They just need to be taught. I can do that, I swear it."
"Shall we begin the lessons now?" he asked darkly, standing up obviously delighted.
"No!" Thomas shouted, his eyes now burning with tears.
"If that's your wish my Lord."
"What would you say is an appropriate punishment for interrupting?" Voldemort mused, circling Graces like a predator as the blonde twirled about, making sure to keep Thomas hidden, despite his protests.
"I'm unsure, my Lord," Graces whispered, knowing very well what the punishment would be.
Thomas had an idea too and before anything could be done he wrapped his arms around the blonde trying to protect him and dragged her to the ground. He had no idea what exactly he was really saying or how it sounded. He was sure he was a stuttering mess, but he begged. Begged for him not to hurt her, promised he would do anything that he wanted, pleaded for mercy. Thomas imagined he was asking for all that and more.
"Thomas, you need to let go. Thomas, stop this right now." No, how could he stop? He had been a coward. He should have never allowed Graces to come with him. Draco told him their standing. She wasn't safe. He had been weak. He was scared and wanted her there so he didn't argue. He wasn't going to be weak now. He wasn't going to allow this demon to hurt her. "Thomas, you're making it worse," Graces whispered, a tone of begging in her voice. "Please, stop. It will be over if you stop. Stop."
"Severus, come get your student," the Dark Lord demanded. "Hold him away and make sure he watches. I want him to be properly taught."
Thomas tried to fight Snape as he was dragged away from Graces' fallen body, but the older man was stronger and not opposed to bending his arm to the point where it was almost breaking to get him to move. He slumped to the ground as Snape held his arms back and continued to scream for Graces to not be hurt.
"Miss Malfoy, it would appear thus far that you are correct in your assessment of Mr. Higg's feelings for you. He certainly does not want you harmed, but he still has yet to be obedient and remain quiet." Graces was still on the ground bracing herself on her hands and knees, preparing for what was going to come. "Miss Malfoy, wouldn't you like to stand up?" Graces looked up for a moment and shakily rose to her feet, clearly understanding it was not a suggestion. "Did you wear this dress for me?" Graces nodded nervously and took a step back. "It's a shame; such a fine dress. If Mr. Higgs would become silent I wouldn't need to punish you and dirty it up."
"I understand, my Lord," Graces whispered, swallowing hard.
"NO! PLEASE. P-P-PUNISH M-ME! ME! N-NOT HER!"
"He still doesn't understand," Voldemort grinned. "I think it's time to make him."
Thomas watched in horror as Voldemort raised his wand and cast the Cruciatus curse. Soon the room was filled with Graces screams as she thrashed on the floor in pain. Thomas tried to move away from Snape he tried to go forward and save her, but he couldn't break free. He was forced to watch as Graces wailed on the floor, begging for mercy.
"If you truly want this to stop I suggest you stop screaming," Snape hissed in his ear, pulling Thomas' arms tighter behind him.
Thomas closed his mouth and tried to muffle his sobs. He did this. Graces was screaming and begging for an end, because of him.
"Right again, Miss Malfoy," Voldemort declared, over Graces whimpering body. "It seems punishing you for Mr. Higg's transgressions is far more effective." Thomas held his breath as those red eyes fell back on him. "Mr. Higgs, do you understand why I am punishing her?" Thomas nodded his head and mouthed his apologies, begging with his eyes for this all to end. "Let him go, Severus. I think Mr. Higgs understands not to interfere."
Thomas slumped to the floor and moved lower to meet Graces' eyes so that his cheek was no pressed against the ground.
"How many nights has it been since I purged the world from your family?"
"S-seven d-days," Thomas whimpered, as Graces painted against the floor. Her hair was tousled from slamming against the concrete. Her lip bled from biting down on it. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, tell her it was all going to be okay, that he was sorry, that he would obey and do everything she said.
"Ssseven daysssss," Voldemort repeated. "So for seven days you have prayed that Potter would defeat me."
No. No-no -no.
"I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry," Thomas begged, bringing his hands up to plead.
"And you are not addressing me as my Lord," Voldemort continued angrily, the slits in his face flaring. "I think nine minutes under the cruciatus will suffice for punishment."
"My Lord," Snape broke in calmly. "Perhaps it would be best if we staggered the punishment out. We wouldn't want another Frank and Alice Longbottom on our hands. Miss Malfoy is a talented witch. It would be a shame to lose such a valuable asset when she has just sworn to take the mark."
"Hmmm I suppose you make a point, Severus. Miss Malfoy, if you could once again stand. We shall begin with intervals of three." Graces closed her eyes and took a few panicked breaths as she laid on the dusty ground. Thomas wondered if she wasn't able to get up. Or if she couldn't bear to. "Or have you changed your mind?" Voldemort asked, moving his wand towards Thomas.
"No," Graces whispered. "No, I-I'll stand."
Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but closed it as Graces brought a silencing finger to her own lips.
Half an hour. Thomas had to watch and listen to Graces' merciless torture for half an hour. For a minute she would be cruciated and then for three minutes after she would have time to rest, where she whimpered and cried for anyone ranging from Draco to the Gods, before she was placed under the curse again. Thomas knew he was never going to be able to get Graces' screams and pleas for mercy out of his head. He would forever hear the echoes of her ragged voice, a constant reminder of who would be hurt should he ever move out from the Dark Lord's thumb.
When it was over, when it was finally over, he crawled over to her. He held her limp body and cried into her clammy skin, whispering a thousand apologies over and over again. Graces didn't seem able to answer though. Her head just tipped back limply and her breathing continued to be shallow. Thomas quickly moved his arm to support her better like he would with Octavian.
"You may go now," Voldemort dismissed, moving to sit back down on his throne.
Thomas began thanking his new Lord profusely and tried to stand with Graces, but it proved harder than he had anticipated with her dead weight. He was about to try picking her up, but before he could Snape was beside him taking her other arm and hoisting her up. Thomas couldn't stop crying as they made their way to the door.
"It's okay, darling," Graces whispered hoarsely. "It's all over. All over."
"Actually, Miss Malfoy, if you could stay," Voldemort requested, causing the three of them to halt before the door. "It seems with all the excitement I forgot to discuss your brother's trespasses against me. It's been months and his task is still not complete. Now, since I have not seen him, he's kept himself so well hidden, you'll have to suffice for his punishment."
"N-no," Thomas whispered, turning to Graces who was just staring blankly at the door. "N-no."
"Professor, take Thomas and go," Graces whispered hollowly, a small tear falling from her cheek. Thomas protested, he clung to Graces' hand as Snape picked him up and pulled him out the door. Graces didn't look at him, though. She stood motionless as he screamed her name, her eyes closed even as a crowd of masked people surrounded her.