A/N..TRIGGER WARNING for a little implied non-con, rape situation. If this isn't something you feel comfortable reading, don't. And if you're enjoying so far leave a comment, they are always appreciated, constructive criticism is always welcome, too. 3
Chapter 33
It took Draco a long time to realize his eyes were open. The room- or perhaps dungeon- he was in was so devoid of light, Draco was convinced his eyes were swollen shut. A nasty chill went through his body as he realized one of the Death Eaters could have potentially blinded him in the struggle to get him down. And those idiots snapped my bloody wand, He thought angrily, as the scene of Granger hiding her wand in the forbidden forest flashed in his mind. Know-it-all git.
He attempted to stretch his arms and legs, to check for breaks/ fractures, or any other bodily damage he could have sustained during the fight. He was a bit surprised that he was taken alive. He didn't think the Death Eaters would bother taking him to, just Granger, and he wasn't sure he cared. In some weirdly disjointed way, he had decided that if helping Granger get into the bloody school would some how start a mechanism of action that may improve the quality of Astoria's life one day, it was worth it. He had nothing to live for. He had killed Astoria's father, she would never forgive him of that. She had made him promise her he wouldn't hurt her family if it came to that, when he told her so long ago, he might deflect. Those days were over, and that was that. His parents were dead, the world sucked, and he was a traitor. If The Order managed to kill Voldemort and regain power, he would still be hated by every one in the entire world. What a great life I've managed to live, so glad I could make everyone proud. He thought bitterly. He had never felt so isolated before. Savor every bite, Draco, you earned every bit of this you weak arse, he chided himself. After all, he had been too weak to kill Dumbledore, which started his families descension in the Dark Lords eyes.
He believed his mother never cared, one way or the other, about the entire war, so long as her family got through unscathed. She, like him and Astoria, was a product of her upbringing, walking the path that had been lain out for her at birth. She may have found muggle-born's distasteful, but he knew she didn't really care to be apart of the killing process. She probably found that more distasteful than their existence, but she had to play the role that her birth rite had given her. He had to, too, but he had failed. He was too weak to be part of the Death Eaters, part of the world his father was working to build along side Voldemort., and too hated to be accepted nay where else. This was his bed he had been making his whole life, and now he must lie in it, but that bed began to look more like a coffin every single day.
He couldn't pin-point the exact moment that Lucius had started to resent him, but it had been there for quite some time. Perhaps it had even started forming before Draco failed at his mission. A muggle-born was the brightest witch of their generation, after all. Decidedly not a Malfoy. And Potter had continued to best him at Quidditch, proving time and time again that Draco wasn't as good a seeker. That had been a big soar spot for Lucius, who payed big galleons to have Audley Dunford, of the Kenmare Kestrels, come to the Manor and give Draco private lessons between 4th and 5th year. Or buying the entire Slytherin Quidditch team all new brooms. Lucius had dumped a lot of money into Draco's reputation during his Hogwarts year and, unfortunately, never saw a return on his interest.
Draco sighed out loud. He was already tired of this waiting game. Just come an execute me already you oafs. He was suddenly glad Granger hadn't shared her crackpot plan with him. He wasn't worried about them torturing the plan out- He had mastered being tight lipped long ago. But veritasum was an altogether different hurdle, that he knew he couldn't jump. Granger had wanted to be captured, hopefully she had some sort of plan for truth serum if it was used on her. He sighed again. His use for Hermione was up now, as well, so he doubted he would ever see him again. Not that it mattered. Why should I care if I ever see that git again? He asked himself pointedly. But a weird feeling welled in his mind. Not…regret...but maybe something of that vein. But Why?
She was insufferable, and not his type of person at all. She was mouthy…but, come to think of that, he usually liked that trait in a woman. Made for better, more entertaining company. And she was intelligent, which made for a good challenge. He always loathed long conversations with Pansy, or Crabbe and Goyle. No stimulation what-so-ever. There was a time when he wouldn't even consider her an equal, but now that he looked at the world through a different set of eyes, he knew he wasn't her equal. She had never been too weak to forgo her convictions, as he had. She had bested his test scores time and time again, and not with the help of old money or connections. What am I even thinking? She's not smarter than me. She was just less distracted during school, and could focus more than I. But was that true? Or just his denial? She would have been helping Potter all along, after all, and fighting hard on her side of this war.
He banished all thoughts of Granger out of his mind. Why was he spending so much time thinking about her anyways? He forced his mind to conjure up Astoria's face, as it had looked before her father had severed their engagement. Before he was unofficially kicked out of the Death Eaters. She had been so sweet, always with ribbons in her silky hair. And she had always been quick to call Draco out on his bullshit, which he had loved her for. But she could also be petulant, and selfish. So selfish at times, but he had always over looked that part of her. She was raised like that, after all, just as he had been. They had expected the world to be handed to them because they had been raised thinking they deserved just that. His eyes had been opened about the disgusting state of the magical world, and his place in it, slowly over his 7th year, yet he had done what he was ordered…to an extent. He had fixed the cabinets in the room of requirements, brought the Death Eaters in, done his part. But he never enjoyed it. He didn't want to do it. But he always pushed those thoughts away. He had the Dark Mark, he was a Malfoy, he had shoes to fill and parents to make proud. Not that it had worked out that way.
He sighed again and stretched his back to lay down on the cool stone floor. He idly wondered how long he had been in their for, and what day it was. He wondered where Granger was in the castle and what they were doing to her. He felt a chill break out along his spine. An image flashed into his mind, of Romilda Vane being brought through the Manor. This had been when He was still a trusted Death Eater. Right after the Battle at Hogwarts. Theodore Nott had brought her in, with his father and uncle. She was questioned-and tortured- looking for any information on the order. Theodore had come to Draco later, to ask if Draco wanted a turn, before they killed her. Draco had been sipping a glass of wine and scratching some words onto a parchment in his study. "A turn of what?" He remembered asking stupidly, not making the connection. He had known the girl had no information before the torture had even started and opted out of helping. So why would Nott be coming to his now to ask if he want a turn torturing the girl? The other boy had scrunched his eyes brows and made a movement of pivoting his hips, bucking them towards Draco and sticking his tongue out before saying "A turn with that disgusting swot before she's killed you prat," It had revolted Draco, so deeply in his stomach.
"Get out you fickle git," Draco had commanded, revulsion bringing him to his feet. Nott had turned and left, and that was that. Nott could have any of the pure-blood girls in our age group, why the bloody hell would he feel the need to do this? Draco had remembered thinking. Power, of course, and cruelty were the answers. He had always wondered, but never asked, if his father had been apart of this. His mother would have never, ever allowed it, surely, but Lucius could be very sneaky at times. Draco had felt compelled to stop it, but that was tricky considering his position, and that of his family's position. Finally, he had told his mother about the raping, and she had been so disgusted she had gone right to Lucius.
"Tell the others that I will not stand for them soiling themselves like this in my home," Narcissa had told Lucius acidly, leaving no room for argument, and for a time that had stopped that behavior in the Manor. No doubt it continued elsewhere, but at least it was no longer under his nose.
He shuddered to think about that happening to Granger. Or Luna for that matter. He had never given her a lot of thought at Hogwarts, she just seemed…weird to him and she didn't care about how the public viewed her, which was very alien to him. But she had been very kind to Narcissa, coming to her room and giving her a clean towel to shower, and asking about Lucius's favorite color, which had been odd and perplexing, but it was still kind. They had been afraid to eat the food that Luna had brought them, for fear Longbottom had done something to it, but that was just how war was. Severus Snape had poisoned many people at Voldemort's command, and it made you paranoid after a while, to be around so much deceit.
He thought about Pansy for some reason, and the last time they had met on good terms. She had come to him just after the news of his short-lived engagement to Astoria broke, and she had been angry. She had come directly to the Manor in the middle of the night, where Draco was having a drink on the back veranda with Blaise Zabini. The two had been smoking cigars and talking about a whole lot of nothing.
Narcissa had, of course, let Pansy in. She had never liked Pansy and was elated when The Dark lord favored a partnership between Draco and the oldest Greengrass daughter, as she was never thrilled with the idea of Parkinson being apart of the family. She probably enjoyed Pansy's hurt over the engagement, but he could never ask her now.
Pansy had come right over to him and slapped him. He had dropped his drink and Blaise had started belly laughing. It wasn't a hard slap, but it was packed with a lot of emotion.
Blaise had left the veranda after the slap, giving them space, but he was undoubtably still in ear-shot. Draco grinned to think of his old friend now.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" Draco had asked her nonchalantly. She didn't say anything, just looked at him with rage filled eyes.
"Don't be an idiot," She had responded, careful not to let a tear drop from her eye. "Greengrass? Really?"
"You know I haven't a choice," He had responded coolly.
"Yes, you do and you told me it would be me," Her voice was heavy with accusation and indignation.
"Oh, Pans, grow up. That was years ago and times have changed," He was bored with the whole confrontation now. He had never loved Pansy, he just lusted after her and then fed off her attention.
I should have been softer with her, He reflected now, a little ashamed. Maybe some compassion was all she needed to stop her from going off the deep end when she took the Dark Mark.
She had slapped him again, and then lunged at him, trying to kiss him. He had rejected her, which led to her making him her enemy. After that she had competed with him tirelessly, trying at every turn to belittle him or supersede him. His fall from grace had been a long time in the making, and definitely deserved, but he had wondered at times if it could have been slowed or prevented with Pansy as an ally. She was a cunning and motivated person, who always found a means to her ends.