Monday came in a rush and I woke up with my heart pounding to the horrible digital chiming of his watch going off. I was deeply wrapped in Draco's arms and felt instantly devastated that I would be leaving the Malfoy Manor that day. I dug my fingers into Draco's clothes, clinging to him like we were on a sinking ship. The harshness of the contact apparently woke him up and his deep sigh blew hair across my forehead, "You're panicking already." He stated it like it was a casual observation.
"Don' make me go," I whispered into his neck pathetically. My fingers coiled in the fabric of his shirt in protest.
He groaned loudly, "Don't guilt me Madeleine. You have to go. We talked about this." He pushed off of me, suddenly seeming like a stranger. My eyes wandered after him as he shook his hair out and adjusted his clothing across the room. He levelled his gaze on me looking stern.
It occurred to me what had been done overnight, "You obliviated yourself, didn't you?" I counteracted.
He began changing into his typical Death Eater robes, shrugging off clothing with speed. Somehow without my knowing he'd stashed his own attire in my armoire.
His eyes wandered to my expression briefly without emotion as he pulled a dress shirt down and started buttoning it, "It was necessary. Today is important. Focus is important." I watched his fingers working along his clothing in practiced routine and dread began to overcome me.
I dragged myself from my plush, ivory bed not sure of when I would return to it's comfort and safety. I put on a short, tight green dress as he finalized his outfit with pitch black robes. The air was thin and taught between us.
He went to the doorway and hovered with impatience as I pulled on a slate grey cloak and stood awkwardly. I suddenly felt as though I didn't know him, which was not incorrect. He didn't fully know who he was either due to the obliviation. The dangerous Death Eater glint had returned to his eyes.
"Well come on then," he urged with the doorway open. I caved to the demand, clinging to a bag filled with personal items that I had decided to pack on Sunday for the impending disaster zone that would likely be the resistance camp; soaps, clothing, the invisibility cloak...
We traipsed down the large stone staircases in aching silence. I wanted to reach out and grab his hand desperately but I had the impression that he would not register the contact with grace. He was gone again: the memories of our latest weekend together locked away deep in the cavernous dungeons in a glass vial.
At the bottom of the stairs, before the spanning double doors of the Manor, stood Narcissa. Her hands were clasped before her in her typical posture, looking regal as always.
She analyzed both of our moods as we approached, and I could tell that she knew Draco had been obliviated. Her eyes lingered on his face knowingly. "Well, here we are," she said gently. Her hand disappeared into the pocket of her black dress briefly before emerging with a white wood wand. She held it out to me with open, dark blue eyes, "Madeleine - as promised. You have earned our trust, I can only hope that the notion is reciprocal."
My fingers were trembling as I reached out and my skin finally met with my wand again for the first time in years. The power and independence soared through my bones. I was free for the first time in ages and unfortunately it was a somber affair. I had no interest in leaving the Manor, no interest in leaving the man I'd fallen so hard for. He was standing next to me with a straight spine and cold eyes, staring over his mother's shoulder like a statue.
Narcissa's eyes hung on me for a moment as though she expected me to immediately dissapparate away. When I simply tucked the wand into my pocket both Malfoy's honed in on my presence.
Narcissa didn't bother smiling, "Madeleine, I will see you soon enough. Please do not dishonor our family. The dark lord is not known for showing merciful qualities." With that she was gone, floating down the hallway of the large building like a gorgeous, forlorn ghost. I fiddled with the wand in my pocket, unsure of how to proceed.
Draco's hand slowly ebbed into my own and our eyes met for a split second before he had disapparated us to a roof top in downtown London. We both staggered from the ungraceful impact and my eyes wandered helplessly around the new setting.
"Where are we?" I requested breathlessly, trying to stabilize the spinning in my head. He had his arm across his mouth also seemingly in shock from his own speedy use of the magic. Smoke was rising from buildings adjacent to us and the streets below were teeming with activity. Tall red buses slumbered along the narrow passageways between lanky buildings and the chatter of pedestrians filled the air.
The rooftop we were on was at least six stories high. It was a worn building, aged with time over several centuries. The stone was mossy and blackened with mold below our feet.
Draco's bright eyes drifted to me, "I've found Potter around this building before. He's requested that we trade in the public realm on the streetscape. If we hang about there we'll inevitably run into him." His face was vacant as he looked away and scanned the surrounding buildings.
I pulled at his sleeve to bring him into my arms for a comatose hug. My arms squeezed him tightly and I buried my face in his jacket, fighting back tears. His arms remained loosely at his side and my heart wrenched with the understanding that he wasn't the slightest bit affected. He must have gone far out of his way to obliviate more than usual the night before in order to make the transition easier. The hot sun was baking into my hair from behind and birds chirped with the crisp morning as though it was perfectly uneventful as I clung to him.
I swiveled my head against the fabric of his clothing to stare up at him and he glanced down over the bridge of his nose, "Draco, when will I see you again? Where?" I begged.
"You will meet me here every Friday at midnight. If you don't show up, I'll come looking for you. Don't make this arrangement problematic." His voice was edgy as he stated the instructions and I frowned into his clothing.
"Are you going to leave now?" I asked in a strained, petite voice. I clung helplessly to the piney smell of his clothing and the warmth of his body in my arms. My hands snaked around his neck and I pulled his face down to kiss me, and he allowed it for a few minutes.
He pulled away from the embrace enough to break the kiss and his forehead was against mine in the morning sun, startling blue eyes boring down at me, "I have to ensure the trade is completed. He can't catch us being affectionate, you need to compose yourself."
He straightened his spine and his fingers wrapped around my elbow in a strict grip. "Come," he ordered, now dragging me towards a doorframe in a nearby mechanical penthouse. We took all six flights of metal stairs, the echoes of our shoes created a terrible symphony of metallic ringing as I struggled not to trip at his pace. When we'd reached the bottom floor he guided me through a lobby roughly which drew concerned glances from muggles that were in the vicinity.
The blare of horns greeted us out in the streets and the pungent odors of cigarettes and piss were vibrant in the heat of the sun. Draco noticeably was disgusted and didn't even attempt to cover up his scowl as a man walking a dog bumped rudely into his shoulder. I heard him whisper "peasants" under his breath before pulling me after him down the sidewalk, yanking my neck back at the sudden motion.
We didn't walk far before a boy with perfectly round glasses and spikey dark hair sitting at a public bench locked his eyes on us. He stood and approached with an equally confrontational expression. His clothing was filthy and tattered, an old hoodie hung loosely on his frame. He didn't even try to mask his wand in his hand which was pointed straight at the ground. A ginger-haired boy beside him matched his stride, and I recognized him from before - Ron Weasley. He was shoving a wand into the jugular of a handsome boy with short black hair and bright brown eyes, masking the weapon by holding it through his sleeve. The other prisoner was the boy who'd been next to Fawley the night of the Slytherin reunion.
Draco's face was impeccably sour and he halted on the spot when the three began to close the gap. People rushing to work on the Monday morning didn't seem to regard our bizarrely aristocratic garb or the unusual public meeting. Draco's fingers were digging into my skin despite the clothing that was weakly defending me and I squinted through the unpleasant experience. The three boys stopped feet before us and the one who was being held captive winced at the sharp wood being jammed into his throat.
"Potter," Draco spat the name resentfully, "As promised, here she is." He shoved me hard from behind and I stumbled into Harry Potter's arms. He pulled me into him defensively, wrapping his arm around my neck as I stared back at Draco with fear and dread. My heart was beginning to shatter from the instant detachment from my husband, who was busy sneering at the unfamiliar boy holding me tightly.
"Don't forget," he said through barred teeth, "she's my wife. This isn't the end of this." I watched as his eyes roamed attentively over where Harry's arms were already draped around me.
I felt like an object; like a fork at a place setting or a lamp in the corner of a room. Their stares were vicious as they sized each other up. Draco stood tall and commanding in his clean cut suit and Harry Potter rubbed my shoulder as he met the gaze of Draco boldly.
"Right then, take Zabini and be on your way Malfoy," Harry said venomously. Ron practically threw Blaise across the few feet that were separating us. Draco clamped his hand down on Blaise's arm. Just before they disapparated his eyes fell on me sympathetically and then they were gone. I was in shock as I stood on the curbside in London with Ron and Harry. My entire life had just changed again and I was spiraling internally.
Harry held me out before him, "Madeleine, are you alright? You're safe with us...don't worry." His sharp blue-green eyes bored into me as he tried to determine the status of my mental health. I knew I looked deadpan because I had no idea how to feel in the moment. My stomach felt sick and I had the uncontrollable sense that I'd been abandoned, even though Draco had made it very clear that wasn't the case.
Ron was grumpy next to Harry, fidgeting with zero sympathy. I knew from my previous time spent with him that he was not terribly fond of me, "Come on, Harry. Let's get out of here before that prick has a chance to come back. You heard him." He gave me a repulsed glance as he shifted his feet on the concrete of the sidewalk.
Harry searched my eyes again and then his fingers were entwining in my cloak, "Are you ready to go?" He asked gently. I nodded faintly, wishing I could process the sudden changes to my reality more appropriately. He waited until the few muggles passing by us had moved several paces away before all of us were twisting in time and space.
We reappeared in a field before a famer's home in rural Britain. The brown-brick building stood haphazardly, leaning slightly to the left. The bricks were jutting out precariously cantilever with the pressure of the sideways gravity as the structure slowly succumbed to the elements of the earth. Behind it a windmill lazily spun in the open field of bright pink flowers.
Ron didn't hesitate; he instantly marched towards the cottage without chivalry, crushing the thin stems of flowers below his boots. Smoke was rising from the chimney suggesting that there were inhabitants within. Harry hung around me as I began to pant in trepidation. My knees gave out and I collapsed into the tall flowers, shaking from disbelief.
Harry patted my head awkwardly, "I'm sorry we couldn't save you from Malfoy earlier, Madeleine. I can't imagine what he did to you." He crouched next to me and my eyes scanned his features like a laser. He had perfectly clear skin, bright green eyes, thin lips and long brown hair. The famous scar on his forehead throbbed with a seamless pink lightning strike. He was attractive and sweet, and very concerned as he stroked my hair.
I dug my fingers into the soil below me, trying to control the welling panic. "Where are we?" I asked quietly, looking away from his intense gaze. I was accustomed to brutality and abuse, and half expected him to yank me to my feet and drag me inside of the lopsided building before me.
"At a safe house," Harry simply responded with unusual patience. He evaluated my face and fancy clothing as I took sharp breaths in. He likely attributed my frazzled state to be a result of anything other than what it actually was; I missed Draco already and was terrified of the resistance. "Come on, let's go inside and get you set up," he suggested kindly, and held his hand out to me. I took it and we slowly moved across the blush colored field.
Inside the house there was at least ten people clustered around a wooden kitchen table and in the open living room to the right. I identified a few faces from Fort Maunsell including Ginny and Pansy, who both looked disturbed at my newfound presence.
Harry slapped his pants awkwardly, letting his hands fall with gravity, "Well, you all knew that Madeleine was coming today. So let's give her a warm welcome." A few grumbles from the crowd murmured throughout the room, but most people seemed either disinterested or displeased by my arrival. I sucked on my lips, wishing I could just go back to the gloom and esteem of the Malfoy Manor and hide in my perfect room.
"Cool," Harry said, breaking the awkward silence, "Just um, follow me I guess. I'll take you upstairs. You can have...the room on the top floor." His voice pinched at the end of his sentence and I noticed Ron's face shot to Harry's as he said the sentence.
Harry walked across the tiny space towards a doorway and I followed him up a tight staircase. It turned into an elbow twice and then we were on the third level. The furniture was all leaning oddly with the angle of the house as it slid sideways, loosing the fight against gravity. The floor felt crooked and absurd, and I had to press harder with one hip into the floorboards to stabilize my gait. The room that he'd led me into was insanely cramped; there was a single bed perched on an aged metal bed frame. The sheets looked filthy and unmade. There was a single window and a trunk, and nothing else.
Harry rubbed his neck and looked around the room at the few items, mysteriously and with a pained expression. "This room, it - it belonged to someone we all cared about a lot. She's...gone now. There's still clothing in the trunk that you can borrow." His voice had petered off into a frail volume. I could tell even being in the room was a touchy moment.
"Granger?" I questioned, thinking back to the conversation I'd overheard between Draco and Lucius outside of the Manor. "I had Potter in my hands this time. I took out Granger, which will weaken him severely." Draco's words echoed in my recent memory. I bleakly wondered if her skeleton was rotting below the Manor in the dungeons.
Harry's eyes lifted to my face with shock, "Hermione, yes. How did you know? Did Malfoy tell you what he did to her?" His voice rose into a partial yell as his face took on a rosy, angry glow, "Did the coward at least admit to killing her in his bare hands?" He was now stony and scowling, looking oddly akin to Draco in that moment.
I backed into the wall, unsure of who this boy was or what he was capable of, "'e did not tell me much about 'is work as a Death Eater 'arry. I am sorry to 'ear about your friend." I gave him my best sympathetic face. He was obviously greatly hurt by the loss of Hermione, as Draco had clearly pointed out.
"She knew you. She cared about you. She was your friend too you know," he barked argumentatively, as though I had every reason to suddenly feel guilty or despaired.
I chewed on my lip and clung to my bag in humiliation, flat against the wonky wall, "I am so sorry...I don' remember. You obliviated me..." I had nothing to offer for his pain, or with regard to Hermione's existence. It was a blank page in my mind.
At the confusion and fear on my face Harry subsided only moderately. He sighed, looking completely broken and defeated, "I suppose he wouldn't tell you these things. What exactly did he do with you? Do you want to talk about it?" His face was suddenly pale as he ran through the possibilities in his mind without camouflage. I remarked at the aggressive and investigative nature of Gryffindor's. I'd only been at the establishment for mere minutes before being quizzed about everything I'd been through.
I fumbled on what to say, giving him a pathetic frown, "I-I don' know. No I don' want to talk about it 'arry." It hadn't occurred to me just how inconceivable the entire experience had been. When described, when put into words, it was horrendous at best - and he would never understand the complexities of the circumstances. In that moment with Harry looking sickly at my face I failed to describe what had happened at the Malfoy Manor.
I sunk onto my heels against the wall and covered my face with my hands, feigning embarrassment. It had to be believable that I wasn't on Draco's side, and I was using the only material I had in my roster which was to simply avoid the conversation. Draco's voice was in my ear again. He's suspicious, so you need to be resourceful around him.
Harry carefully knelt before me, evidently equally ashamed of the topic. He reached his hand out and touched my knee, "This is precisely why we obliviated you the first time - we couldn't be sure of what he put you through. Would that make it better this time as well, if we did that again?" He was trying hard to be helpful but the concept was deeply disturbing.
I felt instantly triggered and I dropped my hands, glaring at him. "Never do dat' to me again," I whispered harshly.
"He raped you, didn't he?" Harry inquired directly. His eye contact was fierce and I felt shivers of disgrace flow down my spine. I could tell this belief that Draco was a rapist was something which enraged him to his core.
I shrugged nervously, hoping he would drop it. He was wrong, but I wasn't sure what would be wise to clarify.
He did not drop it, "Have you had sex with Malfoy, Madeleine?" I had the distinctive sense that part of the inquiry was personal, and I scrunched up my nose in aggravation. My personal sex life was not his business.
"Well you know de answer don' you?" I bickered. "Why do you care?" I narrowed my eyes at him combatively. We stared at each other in complete discomfort until he finally stood and prepared to exit the room.
"Fine then, be difficult," he jabbed in irritation, "I was just trying to see if you needed medical attention. I'll see you at dinner. Just, take it easy I guess." With that he was gone from the room. I stared around at the pathetic accommodations which could not possibly hope to compare to the Malfoy Manor. I felt overwhelming resentment towards Draco for placing me in the position of living with the resistance. Their standards were far below even the average human's living quarters and they seemed to be rough and unfriendly consistently. My head hit the wall and I shut my eyes, willing myself to breath steadily. If I made the best of it, and was a proficient informant for the dark lord, then I would get through it. I would be able to go home to the Manor and be with Draco once again.
