Friday, 30 March, 23:40 GMT
Phil's eyes grew large. He quickly placed the handgun on safety and slid it away from them. "Drew," he said, lifting her chin so that she could look into his face. "It's me, Phil."
She whimpered as she looked into his eyes. They weren't vacant like they were a few minutes ago. "You're back," she coughed. A small stream of blood flowed down the right side of her mouth.
"What have I done?" Phil cried.
"It wasn't your fault, Phil. Your grandfather used a memory charm on you," Drew said, trying to reassure him.
Phil took in a sharp breath as he wiped the blood away with his thumb. "I have to get you to a hospital, Drew."
He started to get up when he felt her fingertips tug on the front of his shirt. He looked down at her.
"There are weapons whose ammunition has been modified," she said. "Mr. Schield is going to use them on the Muggle-born and Half-blood population, Phil. Your grandfather is trying to finish what your parents started almost thirty years ago. Only the potion used on the ammunition kills in half the time. You have to pass that message on to my father."
"We will, Drew," he said again as he brought her to a standing position. She leaned into his chest.
"The stairs lead to a long corridor, Phil," she said as her eyes fluttered. "At the end is a door that leads to a grand foyer. Everything's dimly lit. Your grandfather faked his death five years ago. He doesn't want to give up his position.
"If you stick to the shadows, you can reach the front door," she looked up into his face. She took a strained breath. "You can walk straight out. Even if you get caught, you can just say you needed some air after everything that happened tonight. They wouldn't suspect anything. They'll think you're still under the memory spell.
"Phil, you have to find my father," she said as her eyes began to water.
"All right," he said as he started to pull her up.
"You can leave me here," she said, not looking him in the eye.
"What?!" he said strongly. "No!"
"Phil, listen," she said softly as she took in a sharp breath. "I'll only … slow you down."
"I am not leaving you here with these monsters," he said, his eyes piercing through her. He watched her eyes brim with tears. He looked around the dingy cell.
"I can barely stand, let alone walk. My left shoulder is dislocated," she gulped as she looked up at him. "Most, if not all of my ribs are fractured from the torture curses your grandfather and his men cast. I can already feel my chest filling with fluid, Phil."
"You'll be fine," he tried to brush it off.
"I'm the doctor, remember," she said whimpering as she took a painful breath.
"I am not leaving you," he said more adamantly, not wanting to hear the direness of the situation. He looked around the cell. "There's gotta be another way out. We're college graduates we'll find a way. You're the smart one, think of something."
She looked up at him, her palm against his chest. "Do you have your mobile, Phil? We can call my father."
Phil took in a deep breath. He looked into her eyes defeated. He had tossed his wallet along with the android phone onto the tabletop. "I emptied my pockets before Grandfather and his men showed up. It's on the coffee table at home."
Drew's knees buckled. Phil had to tighten his grip on her. Phil looked at her again. "How … how 'bout you? Do you have that, what did you call it? The port key, that photo we used in that alley back during high school."
"I'm in my sleepwear, Phil," she said looking up at him. She gulped, knowing the severity of the situation. She took a step back, out of his arms.
"Okay, okay," Phil said looking around the cell again. "What the hell kind of dungeon is this without freaking windows you can break out of!"
Drew couldn't help but laugh. Drew caught sight of the thin stick he had jammed into his back pocket. Phil wheeled around and glared at her.
"Phil," she said, as she took in a pained breath. "Did your Grandfather teach you how to apparate?"
"What is that?" Phil asked.
Drew shut her eyes for a moment; already knowing the answer. She looked up at him, holding her breath for a split second before explaining, "Disappearing from one place and showing up in another."
He shook his head as he pulled the wand out of his pocket. "No. Just a couple of offensive spells and," he paused looking into her face, "and he walked me through the Unforgiveables. He said I couldn't use them yet."
Drew took in a deep breath. She gulped again. "My father tried to explain to us a little about how the Department of Magical Law Enforcement worked when Hans was finishing up his training to become an Auror. He told us about the Wand Tracking System, implemented after your parents tried to put their plan into play. He told us about how all wands of suspected criminals, dead or alive, are catalogued into the system and only taken out of the system once they're found not guilty. The system works kinda like our Muggle ankle security bracelets. The system can track the wand."
"Okay," he said nodding. "So your father and his men should be here any moment."
Drew looked up at him. She whimpered, "Your mother's dead, Phil. There won't be any reason for them to track it."
"Your storytelling sucks," Phil said, looking at her incredulously. "No wonder you're not the English major."
All Drew could do was laugh. She shut her eyes for a moment, feeling weak. She looked back up at him.
"It normally takes a half an hour to track wands that aren't in the system if a major crime is committed with it. It only takes half the time if the wand has been catalogued," she continued.
Phil still looked perplexed. He looked down at his birth-mother's wand and then back at his old friend. "Get to the fucking point already, Drew!"
"They're called Unforgiveables for a reason, Phil," she said softly not being able to look him in the face.
Phil finally understood to which she was alluding. He shook his head, "No, no!"
"Phil, listen," she took hold of his arms. She looked up into his eyes. "This is your only way out."
"You're mad," Phil said curtly.
"Using an Unforgiveable will alert the Ministry of our position. They'll raid the Schield Estate and stop them from using the weapons, Phil," she said shakily. "You have to do this, Phil, please."
"I'm not going to do it!" he looked at her in shock. "How could you even think that I could do that?"
"Phil, you have to make it out of here. I won't have you die, too," she gulped.
"You are fucking crazy," he said as he shook his head.
He took a step back, not believing what he was hearing. He looked around again trying to find another way out. He watched her sway a little. He stepped forward, steadying her.
"Please, Phil," she cried as she leaned against his chest, exhausted. "Please. I'm already dead. Please."
"No," Phil said, defeated as he looked into her pleading eyes. He sobbed. He aimed his wand. He took in a deep breath. "Avada Kadavra!"