Chapter 36 - Towards Darkness

Breaking into Ollivander's was ridiculously easy. Considering that the shop was left completely unguarded for months now, Draco had expected it to be empty, scavenged for all its wands and with nothing valuable left in sight. To his surprise though, the shop was more or less the same as it had always been, with rows and rows of boxed wands in perfect organization and only a surplus layer of dust on everything to suggest that the shop owner hadn't been around in a while. That was well for his purposes though, as it allowed him to find the wands he was looking for quickly and then leave the shop unobserved. While there, he also looked for a wand that might be similar to the one that Harry used to have—and he had asked Ollivander for a description of the wand he had sold Harry just to be sure—but finding a substitute wand to replace Harry's unique original was easier said than done. Ollivander had warned him that not just any wand would do for a powerful wizard like Harry Potter, and mentioned that the first two wands he had tried both had disastrous results even without Harry uttering a single spell.

In the end, not willing to risk Harry's safety (or worse), Draco left the shop with only a wand for Ollivander and Luna in hand, resolving that whatever new wand Ollivander could craft for Harry would have to do for now.

So far, he had yet to contact Hermione about any of this, still not having heard back from her regarding the first patronus he had sent.

It was now nearing midnight and Draco had been away from Malfoy Manor for a good two hours since coming back home for the holidays. No doubt his mother would be missing him and Bellatrix would be wondering where he was, as he had hurriedly rushed through dinner. Partly, this had been in a rush to start executing the escape plan for Ollivander and Luna as quickly as possible; but also, Draco just didn't have an appetite sitting at the table in a house that was now seeped with dark magic. Every spoonful of stew looked like swampy mush, and every cut of roast beef seemed overly bloody and raw. Draco doubted he'd be eating much in the days to come, anyway.

Walking past the now-abandoned and decrepit Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Draco reflected once more just why he was doing everything now, and why it was important. His beliefs had entirely changed and now, confronted with his first important task since switching sides...

He wasn't sure whether he was more anxious or excited at what was about to happen.

It didn't even occur to him to be terrified. Little did he know that he would be.

Apparating to Malfoy Manor was an instantaneous process, leaving no time to even contemplate escape. The trio, even Ron, remained silent for once, resigned to their immediate fate but nowhere near ready to give up without a fight. They were wandless, defenseless, and utterly without hope or a plan for how to get themselves away from the situation that awaited them—all very good reasons to just accept defeat. But desperation does strange things to a person and so now, more than ever before, Hermione was taking in every detail of her surroundings and contemplating right from the start just what her course of actions could be.

She almost forgot for a moment whose house she was going to enter and whom she was going to meet inside.

Bellatrix. Lucius Malfoy, in all likelihood. And then there was Scabior and Fenrir Greyback and a multitude of other death eaters waiting inside. Voldemort himself—according to Harry—might not be present in Britain just at the moment, but there were plenty of others who could do many bad things to them until he arrived.

And Draco—was Draco possibly there?

Please let him be, Hermione thought, aching to see him even if just to have a spark of hope in an otherwise dark situation. At least, with Draco there, they weren't entirely alone...

...Or were they?

"D'you reckon this is worth disturbing Her for?" one of the snatchers whispered to the other as they led the trio up the overgrown path to the front door.

"She's been getting bored lately anyway, so's even if this lot ain't important, she'll still have some fun, eh?" the other snatcher cackled. The two spoke about Bellatrix almost with as much awe as they should have reserved only for Voldemort, which in itself wasn't a good sign. Scabior was also a bit tense, but there was no masking the air of anticipation about him; and as for Greyback, he looked as menacing as ever, his lips pulled back to show nonhuman teeth in a half-grin for what was to come.

And pleasure for how bad it promised to be.

Hermione belatedly realized as she was being shoved inside that this would technically be her first visit to Draco's family home. From the outside, apart from the few peacock-esque decorative hedges and a small fountain she had noticed off to the side, there was no telling sign of Draco's personality anywhere though. The house itself was beautiful and looked haughty enough, but was also fairly rundown, both inside and out, since Voldemort had taken over. Offhand, Hermione guessed that it was a house she would have stayed away from as a passerby even before it was corrupted with so much dark magic; not that she had the option now, though. If Draco had ever invited her over earlier though, then...

It wasn't supposed to be this way, she found herself thinking, to which the more rational part of her mind admonished, Oh, and what did you expect, Hermione Granger? That Draco would invite you home to introduce you to his parents? 'Hi Mum and Dad, this is my mudblood girlfriend, you must be so proud!' Pah! It's ludicrous and right now you've got bigger things to worry about than what's happening to Draco. Focus! And while you're about it, stop thinking about Draco at all! The last thing Bellatrix would need to find out whilst interrogating them would be just how close they were, Hermione in particular, to her nephew.

Inside, the light was dim and everything seemed to be dull and gray. Scabior climbed the staircase directly ahead and then led them to a large room that had probably once been a parlour or sitting room, but now was fairly bare with only a long table off to the side and a few chairs scattered around. And at the end of the room, lounging across a faded green divan, was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange herself, sipping from a straw what looked like a butterbeer. As soon as the snatchers and trio entered the room though, she flung the mug aside, causing it to shatter and scatter shards across the dark floor.

"What are you doing here?!" she screeched, directing her malice at Scabior without warning. In a fluid motion she was up on her feet, every inch of her insane and intimidating. Taking out not her wand, but a sharp dagger, she flung it towards him. Scabior, for all that he was sweating profusely—or so poor Hermione noticed, as she was standing right behind him—managed to duck out of the way in time, and the dagger went sailing over Hermione's head, perhaps snipping off a lock or two of hair in the process. Ron nearly called out her name in shock, but restrained himself just in time. Their identities were their greatest liability right now.

"Brought you some runaways, ma'am," Greyback answered while Scabior was still composing himself. "Thought you'd be interested to see these ones."

Bellatrix sniffed, looking unconvinced. "Should have handed them over to the ministry instead of bringing them here," she said, suddenly calm and now a bit unsteady on her feet. Was she drunk from the butterbeer? Considering the size of the mug—and that there were numerous other shattered mugs around the room—this seemed likely, but with Bellatrix is was hard to tell just what her "normal" was. Or whether that was even a good thing.

"These might be important, ma'am," Scabior said at last. Gesturing the snatcher who was holding onto Harry to pass him over, Scabior manhandled him forward until he was standing in front of Bellatrix directly. "Take a look." Slowly, he lifted up some of Harry's hair to reveal his forehead. At first, this was Hermione's main reason for panic, but at Bellatrix's uncertain look, she quickly realized that even Harry's scar must have been disfigured from the stinging hex. Thank goodness she had blasted him directly and in close range!

"Hmm..." But the longer Bellatrix stared, the more excited she became, until a look of fierce possession and hunger settled over her features. "Get...Draco..." she whispered at last, leaning back. Taking out her wand, she turned Harry around until she had it pointed at his neck. "He'll know for sure..." she breathed. But, from the crazed look in her eyes, it was clear that she could already see herself exposing Harry for who he was, and then handing him over to Voldemort as well.

Hermione, still held almost immobile by another one of the snatchers, felt her breath catch in her throat. Draco...he was here...

And he was coming to identify them before handing them over to Voldemort.

Oh Merlin...please...

As it turned out though, Draco was not immediately on hand when Bellatrix sent for him. The death eaters searched every room in the house but couldn't find him, and when Narcissa and even Lucius joined in on the search, they couldn't locate their son either. Just where was he?

Draco was no idiot. As soon as he'd started the escape plan for Ollivander and Luna, he knew that the first thing that was necessary would be a distraction so that he could get them out. There was a ward around the entire manor that made it impossible for witches or wizards who were not death eaters to apparate in or out, so Draco would have to buy them enough time until they could sneak off. Most of the time, they were really only being guarded by Pettigrew, but it would look too suspicious if anyone were to find Pettigrew unconscious or under the effect of the Imperius Curse. Also, there was a changing of the guard around the house as well that Draco just hadn't had enough time to find out about, so he couldn't take the chance and focus all his energies on fooling just Pettigrew—easy as that should be, seeing as the man was a frightened buffoon. Instead, the most believable excuse for Ollivander and Luna to escape would be if everyone's attentions were diverted elsewhere, and that's where Draco's role came in.

After apparating back from Diagon Alley, he had transfigured both Luna and Ollivander's new wands into rats, and sent them scuttling through the air vents around his house, headed directly for the basement. He had warned both of them what to look out for, and besides which Ollivander should recognize a wand even in a transfigured form, so they should have them in hand soon enough. It was up to them whether they would have to take out Pettigrew or anyone else on their way out, but otherwise Draco had planned for a certain explosion to take place in his family's greenhouse, which was far away enough from the basement to provide a clear enough path for the captives as long as it worked. As for Draco himself, he planned to be with his mother when the explosion went off, so no one could suspect him of any foul play either. Therefore, the timing had to be just right.

Of course, he hadn't accounted for his aunt looking for him any earlier than breakfast the next morning though, so it surprised him to hear someone calling out for him once one of them thought to search in the back gardens. Now, he had to act fast and hope that his grasp on potions was truly as "Outstanding" as Severus had ranked him on his O.W.L.s.

Finishing up faster than he would have liked, Draco fled the greenhouse under the cover of night and was wandering around the main hallway downstairs when Greyback of all people found him.

"Your aunt's asking for you, Draco," he sneered, stepping aside to let Draco pass. "Got something useful for you to do, finally." Having been one of the Death Eaters who was actually present when it was Severus and not Draco who had killed Dumbledore, he was one of the few Death Eaters who wasn't in awe of the young Malfoy at all. Much like Bellatrix and Lucius, he saw Draco as weak most of the time, though he wasn't ranked high enough to say so. Draco hoped there was a special brand of hell for the sadistic werewolf and left his thoughts at that.

"Better be interesting," Draco drawled, walking ahead of Greyback and looking bored. And much as every instinct inside him was screaming for him not to turn his back on Greyback, deferring to the werewolf in fear was the worst option by far.

As for whatever Bellatrix wanted him to do, well...in about ten more minutes, his little bomb would go off and obscure most of Malfoy Manor in a thick fog that not even magic could dissipate—he could wait until then and then sneak off to finish off Ollivander and Luna's escape. Merlin help that it all worked out!

Draco's confidence only lasted him to the door though. And that was before it opened and he saw his worst nightmare come to life before his eyes.

"Come forward, Draco." It was Lucius of all people who strode up to meet his son, wrapping one free arm around him while with the other he held a glass of firewhiskey. Draco ignored the state of his father completely as he walked into the room though, and forced himself with all his strength of will to also ignore the struggling Hermione and Ron off to the side. He kept his eyes ahead, where Harry was in the most dangerous position of all, with Bellatrix's wand at his neck and a twisted gleam in her eyes. Right now, what he did next could very well turn the tide of the war.

Nine minutes left.

"Well, Draco?" Bellatrix breathed excitedly, pulling back Harry's head by his hair. "Is this who we think it is? Is it...Harry Potter?" She said the name with both relish and hatred, sending a chill down Draco's spine. He thought he might've heard Hermione give a slight whimper behind him, but he didn't turn to look.

"I...I can't be sure," he said at last, scrambling to prolong this as long as possible. An explanation, an alternative...anything but the truth that this was Harry Potter whom his aunt now had in her clutches.

"Draco, son, look closely," Lucius said, still not backing off. He placed his hand on the back of Draco's neck. "Just think, i-if we were the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven, a-all will be as it was, do you understand?"

Draco knew why his father was saying this now, saw the desperation behind his eyes. Whatever latest quest he had been given by the Dark Lord that had taken him far away from home...he had failed that. Apart from Narcissa, Lucius hadn't told anyone the details of that quest, and Narcissa hadn't confided anything to Draco either, but it was bad. This time, the Malfoys were only a breath away from being condemned forever in Voldemort's eyes, and that could mean the end of life as they knew it.

Or maybe just the end.

Either way, Draco saw the choice before him: to save Harry's life or to save his family.

Eight minutes left.

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, will we, Mr. Malfoy?" Scabior cut in before Draco had a chance to form a reply. "We'll be wanting our dues as well."

"You dare to talk to me like that in my own house?!" Lucius barked, turning to glare at him.

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed, stepping forward and pulling her husband away from their son. Draco didn't hear what she said to him after that, but it sounded like she was telling him to stay put. Just as well, he didn't need another distraction now, another reason to feel sick to his stomach. Already, he was just barely keeping himself above the waves of despair that threatened in his mind at...at seeing his friends like this, at seeing Hermione like this after two months of not seeing her at all. He couldn't afford to weaken now, and he wasn't going to.

"Don't be shy, sweetie, come over!" Bellatrix coaxed, reached for Draco as she forced Harry to his knees. "Now, take a good long look. Because..." And for the first time in his life, Draco actually saw something resembling fear pass over his aunt's eyes. "If this isn't who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, then...he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure."

Seven minutes left.

"I...can't tell," Draco said, putting on the best act he ever had in his life. "What's wrong with his face?"

"Yes, what is wrong with his face?" Bellatrix sneered, glancing over at the snatchers.

"He came to us like that," Scabior said. "Something he picked up in the forest, I reckon."

"Ran into a stinging jinx," Bellatrix observed, astute with the effects of those after inflicting them many a time herself. "Was it you two?" She finally gave her attention to Hermione and Ron, which in some ways was worse than having her focus on Harry. It was in every instinct for Draco to turn around and check on her, but the look that Harry was giving him now stopped him.

As Bellatrix moved away from them at last, Harry whispered, "Draco. Please...don't..."

There was distrust there, but also desperation. Slighted as he was that after everything, there was still room for doubt, Draco didn't blame Harry for it. If anything, he was grateful that he was seeing this coming from Harry, as he couldn't stand it if it came from Hermione. To see doubt in her eyes, distrust directed towards him.

Suddenly, Hermione shrieked in terror and disgust.

Six minutes left.

Whirling around, Draco's eyes widened as he saw that Greyback had taken ahold of Hermione from one of the other snatchers, and was now holding her far too tightly and familiarly, one arm squeezing across her breasts in a painful manner while with his other hand hovered over her neck in a near-chokehold. Every so often, his tongue would dart out against her skin like he was taking a taste, and it was feeling this for the first time that had caused Hermione to shriek. The predatory look on Greyback's face was the worst thing of all in what it promised, coupled with Hermione's absolute fear and desperation not to cry out again.

"Tell him to stop that!" Ron yelled, struggling to get away from the snatcher who still held onto him. As soon as the snatcher's wand was at his neck though, he shut up.

"Give me her wand," Bellatrix instructed, ignoring Ron completely and reaching out to Scabior, who had both Hermione and Ron's wands in his possession. "We'll see what her last spell was."

"Well, Draco?"

Draco suddenly felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, capturing his attention for a moment. She looked at him in alarm, questioning and pleading with her eyes all at once. How much she realized as only a mother can was uncertain, but slowly she turned Draco around so that he was facing Harry again. "Is it him?" she whispered.

Draco didn't answer her directly, but everything in his mother's expression begged for him to trust her, if no one else. Exchanging a quick look with Harry, he saw that the Chosen One was also judging him now, expecting a betrayal at any second. Or...fearing for one, more like.

Five minutes left.

"Caught you!" Bellatrix laughed, twirling Hermione's wand in her hand. "Oh, this one's used a stinging hex alright!" Dancing back to Draco, she placed a possessive hand on his shoulder. "Well, Draco? Is it him or not? You've had long enough to look now."

Not long enough, but Draco had already made his decision.

"No, it's not him," he said at last. "I'd know Harry Potter anywhere, and this ugly oaf isn't him."

"Are you sure, Draco?!" Bellatrix hissed, cleaning close to his ear. "We need to be—"

"I'm sure," Draco cut in, shrugging her off.

"Bah!" Bellatrix turned on Scabior. "You've wasted my time!"

Four minutes left.

"We thought it was him! I swear! H-how do you know he's not lying?!" Scabior snapped.

"You dare to accuse my son?!" Narcissa exclaimed, stepping forward.

"Never mind, Cissy," Bellatrix cackled, sticking her tongue between her teeth in a playful manner. "Look at it this way—who would I trust? My darling nephew or..." And here, her faced darkened. "Some half-witted idiot who wants more money?!" Without warning, she conjured a dark shape that somewhat resembled a snake and somewhat resembled a whip. It looked to be made out of shadows, and yet it strangled Scabior as convincingly as any rope would. He made gasping and choking sounds as he clawed at his own neck, his fingers sinking right through the shadow rope and tearing skin instead. His fingers came away blood as he struggled less and less, until finally Bellatrix let go of him right before he was in danger of passing out.

Three minutes left.

"That'll teach you to lie to me, you worm!" she yelled down at him, kicking him for good measure as he cowered on the ground at her feet. On anyone else, it would've looked childish; on Bellatrix, it just looked frightening.

She turned to glare at the other snatchers and at Greyback, still holding Hermione and Ron captive. "And you lot! Cavorting around and wasting our time! Don't ever dare to come back to our house again, or I'll—"

Suddenly, as if frozen in a state of shock, Bellatrix simply stared past them all to a snatcher at the back of the room, who until now had gone relatively unnoticed. Her eyes fixed on something and it was Hermione who realized first just what it was: the Sword of Gryffindor.

"What's what?" Bellatrix whispered, her eyes wide. "Where did you get that from?"

"It was in her bag when we searched," the snatcher replied. "I reckon it's mind now." And he smiled, proud of his find.

Bellatrix Accio'd the sword to her and stunned the snatcher in the same motion faster than anyone had ever seen her move before. Turning, she cast another hex on the snatcher standing directly behind her, and then cast another snake charm on Greyback, this time using a real snake instead of a shadow one to choke him. Scabior was still cowering on the floor and trying to breath properly, but Bellatrix cast a spell that crushed him to the ground again for good measure. Scabior grunted painfully but otherwise made no moves or sounds.

"Get out! GET OUT!" Bellatrix yelled, angrier than Draco had ever seen her.

Two minutes left, Draco realized, glancing towards the window. They were on the second floor in the room closest to the greenhouse right now. When the explosion went off...

"Aunt Bella—" Draco cut in, desperate by now to get everyone out of the room as quickly as possible. The potion he had rigged wasn't meant to harm so much as limit everyone's visibility, but if they were this close to where it would take place, then there was no telling what impact it might have—they had to get out of there!

"Cissy!" Bellatrix yelled, completely ignoring him or perhaps not even hearing in her rage.

Bellatrix marched over to where Ron and Hermione had been left by the wall, the sword clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were turning white. Grabbing Ron with her free hand, she shoved him towards Narcissa, then immediately went for Harry and shoved him as well. "Take the boys in the cellar!"

"Pettigrew!" Narcissa called, noticing that the dark wizard was just making his way into the room, curious despite himself at all the commotion. Now would have been the perfect time for Ollivander and Luna to escape and maybe take Ron and Harry along as well if they were going down there anyway, Draco thought, but—

"I'd like to have a conversation with this one! Girl to girl!"

One minute left...

Hermione breathed shakily as the mad witch turned her full and complete attention to her, wand now at the ready in her right hand and the sword still in her left.

"LEAVE US!" Bellatrix commanded, relishing privacy as always when she was about to commence her favourite thing: torture.

"Aunt Bella!" Draco exclaimed, rushing forward. "You don't understand, we need to leave right now!" By now, everyone apart from himself had already left the room, so it was just the three of them. Even so though, Draco didn't risk attacking his aunt even though he had drawn his wand in all the commotion.

Bellatrix glared at him, though she kept her wand trained on Hermione. "Unless you plan to help me Draco, I told you to leave!" she hissed.

To her credit, Hermione didn't look at Draco in fear as though he might take Bellatrix up on her offer—it was clear to her that he had no intention of doing so. However, Draco did look panicked for some reason, and something told Hermione that it was neither because of her oncoming torture and nor was it an act. What then—

But there was no time to analyze, think, feel, or even breathe. For, in the next moment, an explosion went off that reverberated all around the room, cutting off light, sound, and air.

Everything was darkness.

A/N: Not sure that I really need an author's note here because the chapter speaks for itself, yes?

Ahem, just please do review, follow, and favourite until the next chapter comes out! Please show your support of the story in any way you can! :3