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Chapter 4: Where the Dead Linger

Draco's eyes quivered as they opened the next day to reveal the same thread of light still shining through the crack in the wall. Looking down at his form, he was surprised to find his legs dangling in midair with the ground just below his feet. And, in an instant, the memories all came back to him.

His wrists burned from the ropes holding them captive, cutting daggers into its flesh. He could smell the scents of fresh blood dripping down his arms from the points his wrists had been rubbed raw. The ropes scratchy exterior cut angrily at his flesh as their needle like claws drew out his blood. His shoulders ached from the strain of their forced position and his arms each felt as though all the life had been sucked from them; their once fleshy color had turned pale as snow from the lack of blood being supplied to them.

Groaning aloud, he allowed his eyes to wander to his wrists for a split second to assess their remaining use. Deciding there was life left in them to spare, he slowly raised his legs away from their hanging position and used his abdomen to pull his knees against his chest. The pressure against his wrists tightened considerably; he could feel the rope against his thin bones as he forced his weight upon their weakened forms. Panting from the strain, he swiftly swung his body around to face the crack in the wall head on and kicked the vain with all his might. A shudder traveled down the vain in the wall as it reluctantly moved away from its initial position, allowing more non-synthetic light to flood the room. The sudden burst of luminosity blinded Draco's eyes as his pupils tried to adjust from their previously dilated forms.

Resisting the urge to scream from the pain in his wrists, he slowly lowered his feet to their dangling position once more. Right on queue, Draco watched as his father's foot banged open the door to the room. Glaring at Draco, his eyes full of malice, he walked over to the crack in the wall and ran his finger up and down the fissure. He turned back around to Draco and the malice disappeared into something else… something, if possible, even cooler. The expression now plastered to Lucius' face had caused his lips to curve up into a smile as he watched Draco, hanging and panting, his entire body weak from the strain on his wrists. A pale finger slowly inched out to touch Draco's face, causing the man being invaded to recoil immediately, glaring and snarling at the unwanted presence so close to his pointed features.

"Now, son. There are plenty of other ways to partake in a work out for your body, which do not include damaging my buildings in the process. I am going to have to ask you not to damage these highly protected buildings while you are visiting. Otherwise, I may just have to move you elsewhere." The words could have been taken as a way to escape this eerie place, but Draco knew that his only chance of survival was within these walls. If he moved now, he might ruin his chances of escape forever.

"Therefore, I would watch my step if I were you… or, your feet as the case may be. I daresay you won't be taking too many steps now that you've changed your… position." He laughed, a cold, heartless laugh, which chilled Draco to the bone. "Now," Lucius asked, his feet carrying him to the other side of the room so he could watch Draco from a distance. "Have you noticed a considerable change in your well being since you were hung up in this position?"

Silence met his words as Draco struggled to maintain his even breathing.

"Tut tut, that won't do, now will it?" Lucius asked in a mocking tone. "Answer the question, Draco…. Imperio!"

For the second time in his memory, Draco felt his body release all the pain and anguish it had been storing…. Only this time, it was a much greater lift of pain. Where before he had been relieved of the pain stored mentally and from his battered form lying on the ground, he was now lifted of his bruised mentality, and physical well being damaged still further from his new position. It was the most relieved feeling he could ever remember feeling in his life…

Except, he was hanging in the air.

Well, no matter, he would just use his wings to fly around the room. He looked at the ceiling and tried to reach up his hands…. He wanted to touch it, to feel its surface. Only, his hands were bound and his body was being pulled downward by some strange force.

Squinting in a frustrated manner, he looked at the only other body in the room as if asking for guidance. He was rewarded immediately.

Draco, he heard the voice whisper. I want you to tell me what you are feeling. Are you frustrated, scared, lonely? Can you feel the pain in your body welling up inside of you and threatening to take over your subconscious?

And this time, he only knew one answer.

"Yes. I feel lonely, frustrated, and scared. My wrists hurt and I want to fly."

A bark of laughter echoed around the room, and the curse was lifted.

A dull clapping echoed around the room as Draco came back to earth. The pain in his body pounded in his ears and collided with his mind as it washed over him once more in a wave of fury. Lucius was clapping at his astounding performance.

"Very good, very good indeed, Draco. You want to fly… now that's a new one!" Lucius walked toward the door and called over his shoulder, "Maybe by the time I come back, you'll have sprouted wings, flown off to London, and I'll be a muggle!"

Draco looked at him his heart thundering against his chest. Did his father know he still harbored that desire? To reunite himself with London and all of it's occupants?

Well, not all of them. He wasn't too keen on meeting Potter and the Weasel but he guessed it inevitable if he wished to get near Hermione again.

He watched his father's features closely as Lucius opened the door and turned around to face him once more. "But I doubt it."

And he was gone; so unlike the pain which Draco was still trying to swallow once more.


Harry turned toward Hermione once more, his eyes alight with question and fear for her. "Hermione, I won't go if you don't want me to. I can have the rest of my team go without me."

"Harry, go. It's fine; I'll be all right. It was… just a bit of a shock for me. That's all. You have to understand what it sounded like… 'I'm leaving you. I'm going to America.' It's just… that's exactly what he said before…" Hermione trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Harry walked toward her once more and wrapped her in a loving embrace. "I know. I know what it must have sounded like and I'm sorry for that. I promise," he held her at arms length and whispered forcefully, while staring into her eyes, "I will never leave you."

And with that, he walked out the door and watched as honey brown eyes followed his every move. A moment ensued with both of them staring at one another, their eyes fixed through a window pain… and then it was broken. Hermione tore her eyes away and walked towards the kitchen, and Harry took off down the street.

He found his team of Aurors waiting for him there; their heads pressed together as they talked silently about the plan once they reached their destination. Harry joined them.

"Alright," he muttered in a low voice. "Lyra and Amanda, I want you to search for a side entrance along the east side of the building. Tonks, you come with me to search along the west side. Kingsley and Harper can go for the South and Bencone and Ugie can take the north. I expect for one of us to find the main entrance. When the entrance is found, tap your galleons and we'll…"

"We know, Harry," Lyra sighed. She was a thin woman with shoulder length brown hair, currently tied up in a ponytail on top of her head, and a kind face. "The coins will burn in everyone else's pockets signaling the entrance has been found. It was your wife's brilliant idea back in your fifth year! Now. Are we ready to go?"

Harry glared at her for a second for shrugging the matter off. "No. There's one more thing. Just to make sure everyone is on the same page, when the entrance is found, the group who found it will breach the building and try to figure out everything they can from the inside. If you meet anyone in the building, do not attack him or her unless they attack first. If excess help is needed, tap the coins again with your wand. We'll only be expecting them to burn once, so if they burn again, we'll know that you need a hand. Now; are there any questions?"

No one responded.

"Alright then. Let's go. You remember the picture of the building?" A small nod coiled around the group. "Then on my word, apperate to the picture. Ready?" Harry took a steadying breath and spoke in a firm but quiet voice: "Three, two, one, GO!"

His heart skipped a beat in anticipation even before he reached his destination.

0000

As Harry's feet collided with the firm ground, it took him a second to adjust to his new surroundings. Contrasting harshly with the light encased street he had left, the woods he now stood rooted in were cold and dank, allowing little light to pass through their thickly woven branches. He heard the sound of Tonks' breathing catch in her throat as she, too, examined where they had landed.

The trees around them had stopped rather abruptly a few feet back, their trunks creating a wall of trees behind them. In front of where they stood sat a clearing, its premises shimmering in magical contamination. A lean building sat just off the center of the clearing and had an ominous look about it. Its walls were hard as stone and made of steel, reaching ten feet above the ground, the structure massively expanding in width rather then height.

Harry walked cautiously toward it, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. Footprints had trodden upon the earthy ground and left traces of their recent existence imprinted in the soil. Harry followed the trail of footprints with his eyes, which extended to his right in the direction he knew the Sabine sisters would soon be heading. To his left, he watched as the wall turned abruptly toward the west side of the building and extended menacingly, as if daring him to follow its course. Harry took a deep breath and motioned to Tonks with his head to follow him.

Five minutes later, after thoroughly examining the grounds he had sought to examine, he felt Hermione's ingenious coins burn hot in his pocket. Fishing it out, he looked at the surface of the coin and saw, written in small, cramped letters on the surface of the galleon: WE'RE INSIDE.

Harry looked at Tonks and knew that she, too, had felt the alert. Nodding at her, he continued his search of the grounds and finally, with resignation, walked toward the wall and decided to try examining its smooth surface. Barely a minute after, he gasped in surprise as his hand found a fissure in the vain where the west wall met the south. His forehead wrinkling in concentration, he motioned to Tonks with his head and looked critically at the gap.

A small crack had shuddered up the wall and ended at the top, maybe half an inch wide from the outside. Prying his fingers inside the gap, he cautiously tried to stick his fingers through to feel whatever was inside and within reach.

Almost at once, he heard a small intake of breath and fell backward, his fingers catching on the wall as they were forced out of the crevice, blood spurting from a fresh cut. Ignoring the pain, he quickly leaned in to the wall once more and stuck his eye through the gap. Pitch-blackness surrounded the interior room. Frowning once more, he experimentally stuck his fingers inside the wall once more and this time, felt something hard collide with his fingertips, as they were smashed to the wall. Wheezing in surprise, he backed away, his fingers red and imprinted with a mark… a mark from the bottom of a shoe.

Turning to Tonks, he silently held up his fingers for her to see and then turned away once more. This time, he found a stick on the ground and used it to stick in the crevice. Griping it harshly, he slowly pushed the stick towards the wall so the crack in the wall would continue to expand. After moving the wall half an inch more, sweat dripping from his forehead, he peered inside, quickly igniting his wand with a muttered, "Lumos."

And there, dangling from the ceiling in the dark room, hung Draco Malfoy: a broken, bloody, horrifying mess, but alive.

Oh yes… alive.


Draco closed his eyes, trying to play cheerful pictures in his mind… trying to do anything to take his mind off of the pain radiating through his body. The only thing he could think of that was remotely happy, though, was Hermione. Therefore, he focused his mind on her, his heart beating faster against his chest and his mind working to conjure a picture of her in his mind. But the only pictures, which he seemed capable of seeing, were those of his last meeting with her. Those moments when his heart had been shredded apart by her departing sobs. Those chocolate brown eyes, dark with confusion and quivering as the Nile River flowed silently out of her eye sockets.

This new anguish and pain did nothing to help him swallow the physical pain he had been trying to endure before. Desperate now for a source of ingenuity to spark through his thoughts, he forced himself to picture her hair, the feel of it between his fingers, her lips, warm as they softly caressed his own, her scent, plain and ordinary and yet the most powerful and wonderful scent he could remember ever smelling. He could literally feel her soft, warm hands as they touched his cold face, he could see her sad, brown eyes as they looked at him with remorse, watch as her lips turned down in sadness from his broken state. His eyes flew open as if determined to see her in front of him.

And there she was. Her hair framing her softly chiseled face, her body thin and lengthy as she stood in front of him. His eyes found her face, gazing hopefully at her in hopes of finding reassurance and happiness. Instead, he saw the traces of tears as they trailed down her face. She dropped to her knees in front of him and rested her face in her hands, crying silent tears. He longed with all the passion he possessed to drop down and hold her as she cried out her remorse. He longed to soak his shirt with her tears and feel her pain transfer to him. His ears seemed to awaken and they picked up a soft voice, breaking the silence in the room.

"No…" the voice whispered, and Draco was reminded of the words she must have uttered not a moment ago as they flooded through his brain. For she had said them once before, and they were last words he could remember ever hearing from her.

"Draco," she cried, her voice cracking. "No. Don't. Don't go. Draco, please. Please! Don't go! No!" Tear after tear erupted from her eyes, running down her face as she sobbed into her hands.

"I'm here, Hermione. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, his voice oddly high pitched and wavering as he attempted to speak to the person in front of him. But she didn't seem to be able to hear him. She continued crying, her shoulders shuddering as her entire body wracked with the sobs discharging from her mouth. Draco cast his eyes away; he couldn't bear to look at her in this state, and yet felt powerless to control his gaze. They sought her body out once more on their own accord, and widened in surprise. The body before him was becoming transparent and was shimmering; it's colors slowly swirling to become the same as those behind it. And, as quickly as the mirage had come, it left… leaving in its wake a broken man.

0000

Draco roared in anger, his body shivering from the emotional anguish now overtaking him. As he heard the last of his echoed pain dissipate from the room, he heard another noise… a different noise: the noise of footsteps. Draco looked toward the direction the noise had come and expected the door to his room to burst open, but, instead, found his gaze lingering upon the cracked wall. Frowning at it, he listened again, intent on hearing the noise once more. And he did. The footsteps pattered closer and closer until they finally stopped.

Mere moments later, Draco watched and gasped as a hand slithered through the crack in the wall and heard another person, a man, gasp as well. The hand retreated for a moment, and then, very slowly, crept into the crevice once more. This time, Draco was ready for it. Thinking the only person who could possibly be on the other side of the wall to be his father, he raised his legs to his chest and thrust them with all his might at the intruding visitor.

A moan of pain sounded outside the wall, and then, a stick stuck its head in instead. Draco watched it with mingled curiosity as the wall was separated; it's heavy walls groaning as they departed from one another. After the wall had been separated an entire inch, the stick was removed and replaced by an eye. A pale, blue eye, which Draco was sure, confirmed his assumptions.

A second later, realization dawned upon him.


A/N: So that's the end of chapter 4. I do hope you like it and are curious to hear what you think of the story so far. hint, hint wink, wink And, Harry's intrusion in this chapter… hate it or love it? I had to get Draco out of Lucius' evil grasp couldn't think of any other way to promote the action. So there you go. Like it or now you will be seeing more of him so be forewarned.

Thanks to you all and I do hope you'll continue reading! It makes my day to see my reads increase!

Yours,

PhoenixTearsCG