The pounding in his head was distracting. His mother had retreated from her sister's hissy fit in the foyer and followed him into his bedroom. He opened the decanter holding his bourbon and took a swing. Blinking twice, he gave his head a shake. It was familiar, like a déjas-vu.
"That was inappropriate, Draco," said Mrs. Malfoy.
"You're right, I should have used a glass," he responded, lifting the vial again.
"You're lucky she didn't curse you." Her nostrils flared.
"No, I was lucky you stepped in."
"You can't expect me to cover for you. I can't always be there," she hissed.
"Sure you will."
"Are you really that delusional?" She breathed exasperatedly.
"No."
"Then find favor within the ranks. Your father-"
"Is now considered a joke-"
"Don't speak of such things" she hissed.
He put the bottle back on the shelf.
"Your father and I are tirelessly working to keep you safe."
"By boasting about my marks at school? My flying ability?" He rolled his eyes as the sarcasm dripped from his tongue.
"Anything that will remind them of your value," she said, voice cracking.
He turned his head, his vision groggy but clear enough to see the lone tear run down her cheek. Regret filled him. He had seen his mother cry only three times in his life. This made four.
"Mum…" he murmured, his tone softening.
"I need you to be safe-" she pleaded.
"I am mum…" he said gently, making his way over to her.
She turned her head away from him but continued to stand tall, ever the dignified woman.
"-You're making things increasingly difficult."
He brought his hand to her arm.
"It's okay," he said, trying to soothe her.
"No Draco, it's not." Her eyes flashing back to him, stricken with anger.
"Well, I'm sick of it."
She gave an exaggerated huff, "Well it's a little late to call the healer".
"I'm serious. This was supposed to be an honor-"
Her eyes widened, "Draco".
"They're in our house, in the living and dining rooms-"
"Draco."
"Hell, just yesterday I was kicked out of the library so the space could be used for interrogation," he said sharply, making wide hand gestures for the lack of a better term for torture.
"Draco," she uttered, "it is an honor to be the Dark Lords headquarters".
"Isn't that sort of thing supposed to be kept to the dungeons?" He pressed.
She cleared her throat, "It was".
"Don't you see mum?" He walked over and sat on his bed, "they're taking over."
"You are being ungrateful-" she said warningly, tone lowered cautiously.
"I'm not ungrateful," he said. "I am honoured the Dark Lord is staying with us. It's Dolohov, Greyback and Karkaroff that's the problem. They're running around our house, demanding services like we're house-elves."
"They are working under the orders of the Dark Lord-"
Draco dropped his head.
"They're terrorizing us," he whispered.
His mother walked up to him and took a seat beside him, letting her hand fall on his back.
"For now, we need to play along."
He raised his head back up and looked straight at the door.
"No, we don't."
"I beg your pardon?"
He turned to look at her.
"We could run."
She expelled a breath resembling a laugh.
"Run where?"
"To the safe house."
"And just how would we manage?"
"We could bring the house-elves."
"Which one, Draco?"
Draco frowned in confusion. Which one? Did she mean which house elf or which safe house?
The room darkened considerably, his eyes roamed the walls as they readjusted to the new setting.
Draco reconsidered; she must have meant which safe house.
"France would be the safest bet," he finally said. "It's the most heavily warded."
"With whom would you go?" Asked his mother, leaning in.
"With you, of course," he said sincerely. What an odd question.
"To do what?"
Did he not just explain himself?
"Hide. We can't stay here any longer. It's only a matter of time before they catch Potter. When the hunt is over and the Dark Lord becomes supreme, what do you think he'll do with us? He has our house, he controls the ministry; father just gave him access to our volts and assets." He added, voice rising in volume.
He looked over to her and nearly jumped back, seeing his mother sprouting untamed bushy hair in the place of her naturally sleek blonde.
He rapidly blinked, the mirage disappearing, leaving him with his mother once more. He glanced at the bourbon on its stand before continuing.
"Do you think he'll pardon us for our transgressions? What do you think is going to happen to us when he's done?" He panicked. To say he felt unwell was an understatement.
His eyes flew to his mother's in an attempt to ground himself, "To me?".
"You're safe right now" she reassured, "I made sure of it".
"Only because they can still make use of me."
He turned his head away as she brought her hand to his face.
"Well," she started, but he cut her off.
"You're not," he realized.
"Sorry?" She said, sounding confused and out of character.
"Won't be long. They find a creative way to torture us."
"That's why we are dealing with this before such an opportunity can knock."
A heartbeat passed before he softly responded.
"I can't lose you mum."
"We're going to be alright Malfoy," said the woman beside him. He frowned. The voice was not his mother's.
"Malfoy?" he echoed.
Before his eyes, the hardwood of the floor darkened until it became dirt, the defining lines of the nightstands and shelves stretched until they became trees and the woman beside him morphed into a much shorter bright-eyed individual. He saw the unkempt messy hair and a genuine look of concern change to one of regret and fear.
Granger.
He looked at his hands and feet. No ropes. He quickly stood up, almost falling over.
"Wait," she began.
"Fuck off," he said, and took a few steps and gripped his throbbing head, "bloody hell, what did you do to me?" He said, bending over in pain.
He heard her rummaging inside her bag, "I think I might have something aimed specifically for migraines-"
"I don't want any of your shit," he said backing away.
She looked up, pitying him.
"Malfoy, I'm so, so, so sorry."
"Did you knock me out?" He groaned.
"Sort of…" she muttered.
He dropped his hands.
"What did you do?"
"I…I…"
He raised his voice, patience disappearing.
"What did you do mudblood?"
"I used the imperius curse." She whispered, not looking at him.
"Imperius?" He repeated confused.
"On who?" He asked, taking deep breaths. When she didn't answer he clued in, "on me!"
"I'm so sorry Draco-"
"Stop."
"It was the only way I could- wait come back!" She called as he retreated to the tree line.
Draco waited until he reached a large willow and sidestepped out of her view behind it. He was out of breath and his legs screamed at him and he didn't know why. His head swam and with every breath, his chest wound ached. What had she made him do?
I need to get the hell out of here.
He pulled at the magic surrounding his navel. But nothing happened. He swore under his breath. He was either still too weak to apparate or they were still within the anti-apparition parameter. His eyes widened as another possibility came to mind.
What if she broke him?
"There you are," she said rounding the tree.
He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her into the bark.
"Give me your wand"
"What? No-"
"Give it to me. I need to know if I can still do magic."
"Why wouldn't you be able to-"
"Because I can't apparate!" He said, giving her a shake.
"Malfoy, you need a wand to apparate," she calmly reminded him.
She was right.
Swallowing, he let go of her shoulders. He already knew that.
"You seem to be recovering fairly well," she said. "But I think it would be best to take it easy for a bit. I don't think you're quite…you, yet."
"And what makes you think that?" He glared at her.
She rolled her eyes.
"You ran off by yourself completely defenseless into the woods with no idea where you are and attempted to apparate after going through cognitive trauma. Slytherins are supposed to be cunning. That was a stupid move," she said crossing her arms. "You're known for a lot of things Malfoy, but an idiot isn't one of them."
He noted the compliment but chose to ignore it.
"Where are we anyway?" he huffed in the cold. His breath hovering in the air like smoke before eventually dissipating.
"Lost," she admitted. "With no shelter and snacks left for food."
He sniffed and rubbed his nose.
"We'd better figure out shelter then. Son to the Malfoy heir freezes to death beside mudblood wasn't the goodbye title I was reaching for," he said, brushing past her.
Her lips pursed and she closed her eyes as her teeth clenched.
She held her breath and counted to ten, then followed him, head bobbing like an apple, "until you get your head screwed back on straight, you'd better keep it low."
His upper lip curled in disgust –was she trying to make a joke?
She cleared her throat as they made their way back.
Coming to a stop at the clearing, he turned to her, "How do you want to do this Granger?"
She tried to hide her surprise as he gave her leadership.
"Don't get cocky," he sneered, "you have the wand."
Right, she nodded. Nevermind.