Draco Malfoy had been sitting with his father when someone arrived at the gate. The elder Malfoy looked over at his wife in alarm. "Who could it be?" Narcissa shrugged and pushed herself off the couch to await the new arrivals at the door.
"Are we expecting anyone, father?" Draco asked, noticing the confused looks on his parents' faces as they exchanged glances. Lucius had a look of confusion and fear on his face as he shook his head in response. The young blond could hear commotion coming from the other room and in a moment, 10 or so people burst inside. Lucius rose from his arm chair in a rush. "What is this?" Draco quickly followed suit, standing up quickly and stopping behind his father. His mother has also risen and brought the group further into the room.
Narcissa walked back from the group directly over to them. "They say they've got Potter." He watched her turn to him, and he knew something was coming. "Draco, come here." Her voice was sharp. That was him. His name. Without speaking, he stepped forward and followed his mother over to the group of people now resting under the chandelier. For the first time, he actually got a good look at them. Greyback was there, so was Scabior. Dean Thomas. Ron Weasley. Hermione Granger.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on hers. She was being restrained by a death eater he did not know and she didn't see him look at her. He walked over to tell the death eater to loosen his grip on her, but his mouth wouldn't move. The death eater just snickered as he tighten his grip on the brunette. Draco couldn't look away or contain her bewilderment. How did she end up here in his house? "Well boy?" The werewolf's voice brought his attention back to the task at hand: the shaggy brunette boy to the left of him. He looked down at the sorry sight. The boy's face was swelled up entirely, Draco would have laughed if the moment wasn't so serious.
He felt his father beside him now. "Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
Draco glanced at the boy in front of him again and looked away. He found it hard to form the words. "I can't- I can't be sure." The boy certainly had Potter's hair and Potter's glasses, but his face was so swollen that Draco couldn't distinguish much else. Everyone was looking at him. It was like the moment so long ago when he had been told he was to kill Albus Dumbledore. Everyone stared. Everyone had expectations. Everyone knew what was on the line if he screwed up. Hermione hadn't been there for that.
"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer." Lucius brought his face closer to the boy's forcefully. "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv-"
"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope Mr. Malfoy." Greyback interjected, sounding threatening. Draco looked over at his mother who was intently staring at the brunette with the swollen face.
"Of course not, of course not! What did you do to him?" His father was examining the boy even more closely. "How did he get in this state?"
"That wasn't us."
"Looks more like a stinging jinx to me." Draco found his eyes wandering back to Hermione's face. She looked as though she might cry. He felt himself wanting to reach out and tell her it would be okay. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her in this house. The Weasley seemed to be glaring at him, and so Draco focused his attention back on his father.
"There's something here. It could be the scar stretched tight… Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?" He could hear the excitement in his father's voice as he bent down to look closer as well. He started to worry and his hands felt clammy. The mark did look like Potter's scar, but he couldn't be sure. Of course, Weasley and Hermione were here, but they'd be the type to pull a trick and disguise someone else as Potter. "I don't know." His voice was shaky and he turned quickly and walked back over to the fireplace.
If he got this wrong, he had no clue how he would be punished. Death, perhaps? From the Dark Lord himself? What if it wasn't Potter? What if it was and they didn't do anything about it? Draco had stopped listening, but he turned around at Greyback's question. "What do we do about the Mudblood, then?"
The death eaters containing the prisoner's spun them into the light as well. It fell onto Hermione, lighting up her hair. Her eyes twinkled, but her face was contorted in frustration as she struggled to break out of the death eater's grip. He clenched his fists unintentionally as his mother asked if she was the Granger girl.
"I… maybe… yeah." The words sort of just spilled from his mouth. He noticed her glaring at him even while she struggled. I'm sorry he begged her to understand with his eyes.
"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted his father, as he walked around to face the redhead. "It's them, Potter's friends – Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-?"
"Yeah." He spun away from them all and faced the fire once more. "It could be."
"What's this, Cissy?" Draco heard his aunt's voice as she opened the door to the room. He had almost forgotten she'd been staying with him. Immediately, his aunt recognized Hermione. Draco tightened his hands into fists again as his mother explained the situation to her sister.
Draco listened, with his back to them as Lucius and Bellatrix fought over who would summon the Dark Lord. His body went cold. The Dark Lord was coming here. Hermione was here. It couldn't happen like this. It was suddenly strangely quiet and he could hear his aunt whispering to someone. The young blond turned around in time to see a flash of red light and a man fall to the floor. Spells were suddenly flying as his aunt took on everyone. Draco ran behind the chair until it was over and she was interrogating Greyback. He rose and focused his attention on her until she addressed him.
"Draco, move this scum outside," said Bellatrix, indicating the unconscious men. If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."
He didn't move. His mother intervened. "Don't you dare speak to Draco like –"
"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"
Draco looked over at the bodies on the floor. All the men who had found and escorted Potter and the prisoners here were lying across the marble. All except Greyback. He had spaced out momentarily again until his aunt's shrill voice caught his attention again.
"Wait," she said sharply. "All except. . . . except for the Mudblood."
The Weasley instantly started shouting what was rushing through Draco's mind. "No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!" He knew he would never be able to say so aloud. And he would never want to be at the mercy of his aunt. She was a cruel and vicious woman. Draco watched Greyback drag the rest of the prisoners out of the room, Ron screaming the entire time.
His eyes found hers. She was kicking and flailing trying to break free of Bellatrix's grip. He watched his aunt pull her arms around and get extremely close to her ear. He could hear her whisper, but he did not know what she said. From afar, he watched Hermione's beautiful lips as they trembled and she whispered, "No, please."
"Pay attention, Draco." Bellatrix was addressing him with a sinister smile on her face as if she could read his heart. "Sit down."
Draco obeyed, falling into the armchair. Not because he wanted to, but because he felt sick. His knees were weak and he was shaking. It felt as though he was going to throw up. Ron's screams for the girl in Bellatrix's grasps echoed up into the room.
His aunt was still whispering to Hermione when she suddenly got upset and threw her to the floor. "Crucio!"
Draco closed his eyes in pain as the girl he loved let out the most terrible noise he'd ever heard. Ron was belting even louder over her screams from below. He could not force himself to open his eyes and watched her writhe on the floor. After a minute, her screams stopped and all that remained was her heavy breathing.
"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" He opened his eyes to see his aunt pointing at the sword next to her and looking as menacing as he'd ever seen her.
"We found it – we found it – PLEASE!" Her voice was muffled and she spoke in between pants. He could hear her sobbing through her words and when he glanced at her, he had never felt more violent in his life. He wanted to kill his aunt. He wanted to kill her. Draco fingered his wand, trying to resist pulling it from his pocket.
His mother and father were staring out the window as if nothing was happening. Greyback had returned and was watching eagerly from the corner of the room.
"Crucio."
Hermione's screams filled the air again; this time Draco forced himself to watch. She was screaming in pain, her face contorted at an unattractive angle. Her body shook and twisted itself on the floor. He was crying. Draco could feel the wet tears pouring from his eyes. The wand was no longer in his hand, as he was now clutching the armchair for support. If only he was a different person, a better man. But Draco could not even kill when his life had been threatened. How could he gather enough strength to doom himself only to save someone he could never have?
It stopped long enough for Bellatrix to scream something else. "You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
The room erupted with another terrible scream and Ron's voice bellowed from below once more. Draco wanted his strength. He couldn't take it anymore and closed his eyes once again. The tears seemed to come steady and he felt his body convulse, almost like he was sobbing.
"Crucio!"
Again. Draco pounded his fist against the chair. No one in the room was even noticing. What was wrong with them all. How did he end up in this mess? How did they manage to get caught? Why did they end up on separate sides of the war? Hermione. Hermione.
"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
The pain was physical now. He felt it in his heart. In his head. His stomach was clenching. His palms were beginning to bleed from where his nails were digging into them.
"Crucio!"
It was the worst one. He wondered how long it would go on for. His aunt had once tortured two people into insanity. Draco thought of Hermione. How she looked before today. Her puffy hair, and pretty eyes. He remembered how whenever he was bothering her or Potter or Weasley, her hair seemed to become worse and worse. It always made him smile. Her smile could light a room, and he had always watched her smirk as soon as she answered a question correctly in every class. She would smile and look so satisfied.
He snuck a look at her now. She had stopped screaming and was sobbing on the floor in the fetal position. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. There was a small snicker, and he glanced up to his aunt's face. She had a look of sick enjoyment.
"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" Draco wiped his eyes. Only he felt like crying again when he heard how broken and crumpled Hermione's voice sounded.
"We only met him tonight!" She sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault… It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
"A copy?" His aunt was screeching. "Oh, a likely story!"
His parents had turned around by now and looked worried. "But we can find out easily! Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
He could not move his feet. He felt broken. Maybe if he sat here for longer, it would give Hermione more time. She wouldn't be tortured. One look at his aunt made him rise instantly and head down to where Potter and the others were. He tried to remember everyone that was in there, but the only ones he was worried about were Potter and Weasley.
He took a moment for himself on the way. Wiped his eyes and breathed deeply. Draco gripped his wand tight and yelled before entering into the cell. "Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"
He was determined to grab the goblin and leave as fast as possible. Whatever he needed to do to ease Hermione's pain. To free her. To appease his aunt; that was the key. They obeyed his instructions and had lined up at the back of the wall. The blond held his wand out in front of him and grabbed the goblin, dragging it back out of the cellar. He shut the door behind him and headed back up with the creature in tow. There was a loud crack from below. Draco decided that he imagined it since he was so shaken up.
The boy dragged the creature over to his aunt who was holding the sword out. He let go of the goblin, holding his wand to the creature. "Tell me, Goblin. Is this sword genuine? Or a fake?" Her voice was thick with disgust. While the goblin examined it, Draco stared down at Hermione. He wanted to stroke her face, and tell her it would be alright.
"Crucio!" She pointed her wand at Hermione again. Draco flinched, shutting his eyes. Maybe she thought torture would motivate the goblin to work faster. Hermione screamed again in agony. Draco didn't like being so close to her. He felt as though he was the one being tortured. He wished it were him instead. He understood Ron's shouts. Wait, why did he stop screaming?
"CRUCIO!"
More screaming. Draco turned and leaned on the wall for support. There was another loud crack, and Hermione's screams dissolved into sobs again as Bellatrix stopped. It was the same crack as before. Lucius spoke up. "What was that? Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar? Draco – no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
The group waited in silence as Wormtail came and then went downstairs to check. There was only the sound of Hermione's cries and ragged breath to fill the air. There was a noise from below and Lucius was the one who called down. "What is it, Wormtail?"
Wormtail yelled back up that everything was okay. His voice sounded scratchy. "Nothing to worry about then." Bellatrix whispered with a smile evident in her voice. "Shall we return?" She glared down at Hermione, and swung her foot into the girl's stomach. Hermione coughed and it sounded as though she was choking. Draco stared down at her knowing there was nothing that he could do. He was outnumbered. Overpowered.
A wicked laugh escaped Bellatrix's lips and she turned back to the goblin. "Well? Is it the true sword?"
"No." His voice was hard. "It is a fake."
"Are you sure? Quite sure?"
"Yes."
Relief was present in his aunt's eyes and she glanced down at the girl lying before her feet. "Good. And now, we call the Dark Lord." She lifted her sleeve and pressed her finger to her forearm where the dark mark was.
Draco wanted to rush forward and stop her. What would the Dark Lord do when he got here? Would he kill Hermione? Would he torture her as Bellatrix had? The blond looked at the pathetic lump of a girl on the floor. The one he loved. He would never be able to sit through something like that again. What was the best option?
"And I think," his aunt's voice was elated, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."
Draco yanked out his wand. He would kill Greyback before that could happen. If Greyback didn't die, he would kill her instead. Draco wouldn't let her suffer like that. This is where he would draw the line. He raised his wand.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Ron Weasley and Harry Potter ran into the room and started blasting spells. Draco was frozen in shock. Potter disarmed his aunt, and he started firing back at them. The Dark Lord was called, there was no way he could let them escape now. If Hermione was to be spared, Draco would need to bargain with Harry's life. Lucius was too stunned to move.
"Stupefy!" He aimed at the Weasley.
"STOP OR SHE DIES!" It was Bellatrix.
Draco spun around to see his aunt holding a knife to Hermione's neck. If that wasn't enough, she already seemed dead. Her eyes were closed, she looked heavy and like she wasn't breathing.
"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is! I said, drop them!"
Harry shouted his surrender and they dropped their wands to the floor. For a moment Draco wondered why Potter didn't have back up. He always had back up. Where were the rest of the prisoners? Who was coming in to save Hermione like someone always did for Potter? No, Draco reasoned, this is good. He could barter like he wanted to now if his aunt would just keep Hermione alive.
"Good! Draco, pick them up!" She pointed to the wands they had just dropped. "The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"
"Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried over to pick up the wands. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight." NO. He wouldn't let that happen. The youngest Malfoy would be ready to take out Greyback. This would be when he could muster enough strength to finally use the unforgivable curse.
Draco was over to his aunt by now, and standing close to Hermione. There was a sound above them and everyone in the room looked up to see the chandelier falling down. He was directly beneath it. Bellatrix threw Hermione and ran out of the way. Draco attempted to catch her, but she only passed through his hands. The chandelier hit the ground, sending shards everywhere. Draco turned and fell to the ground covering his face.
Blood was drenching his hands and preventing him from seeing. His face felt numb. Someone yanked the wands from his hands as he struggled to keep hold of them. Another person grabbed him by his waist and dragged him away from the wreckage. Hermione. Was she under the chandelier? Did it crush her?
He felt himself being helped to his feet and he struggled to clean the blood from his eyes. There was screaming everywhere. When his eyes were finally clean, he saw two people disparate as loud cracks filled the room. Hermione. She was gone. He couldn't help but feel angry. But he was relieved. Potter was the safest choice for her right now. Would that be the last time he'd see her? The Dark Lord was on his way. They had lost Potter. Was he, Draco, going to die this time anyway? If that was the case, had he stood here and done nothing for no reason? He was a coward just like his father. The blonde's knees finally gave way and he fell to the floor once more dreading what was to come and hating the person he was.
