AN: Thanks to everyone reading this.
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Song suggestion: Bad blood, Taylor Swift.
Chapter Three: Decisions.
"Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Lucius ordered and Draco quickly hurried from the drawing room. Clicking his fingers, the House Elf from earlier arrived at his command.
"Master Malfoy." He bowed before running to keep up with his large strides.
"Tell Blaise and Pansy to meet me outside the drawing room now." He commanded before dismissing him, "Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" He yelled as he approached the door and he heard scurrying inside the dungeon antechamber. There was a door at the far end of the room going to the individual cells where they'd tortured and killed prisoners not a day ago.
Grabbing the Goblin, Draco looked at Potter meaningfully and mouthed "Soon" before leaving. He backtracked to the drawing room where horrendous screams echoed and laughter cackled. He entered to find Bellatrix crouched over Hermione. Hermione herself was struggling and crying and trying to resist. He coughed to announce his entrance and Bellatrix turned to him with a wicked smile.
"Thank you Draco." She cooed and climbed off Granger who lay as if dead. Releasing the Goblin to the mad woman Draco inched closer to Granger, assessing the damage. Fearing the worse of her condition knowing Bellatrix and her Dark Magic tricks.
Having to smother his gasp he wretched his eyes away from her. Even though she was still shallowly breathing, he didn't think she would live. The least of her injures was her arm. Carved into her flesh was 'Mudblood' exactly where a Dark Mark marred his skin. It was swollen around the letters and bruising a deep purple black and the letters were bleeding. He watched a small tear sized drop leak from the D and slide down her arm.
But that was the very least. Her eyes were closed and the skin mutilated. Small, sharp criss-crosses decorated her eyelids. But they didn't bleed or bruise. They were looked like grey scars over her sun kissed skin. It was terrible to look at. Draco recognised the signature markings from a Dark Magic book he'd read in the Manor's library. He pitied the girl who loved to read so much more than ever before.
Then he noticed the black veins covering her skin where her faint blue ones should have been. She had been infected. Again by another Dark Magic spell, one that was near as bad as the first he recognised. It was paralysing and awful and difficult to cure, with it's long and hard recovery process. His heart hurt to think of her trying to recuperate from her injuries, if he managed to get her out of here alive.
A loud crack of apparation echoed up from the cellar, drawing Draco out from his assessment of Granger's injuries. He quickly went to leave, but Lucius called to him as if he could still control him, "Draco no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!" But he ignored him as he ran on. Slamming the drawing room doors he found Blaise and Pansy just reaching him. Blaise was dressed similarly to him and Pansy had changed into a fresh shirt and wrapped a belt around her middle so it was a makeshift dress.
"What's going on Draco?" Pansy demanded as his two friends followed him to the dungeon antechamber.
"Potter, Weasley, and Granger got caught." Pansy gasped but he ignored her and continued on, "We're going to help them escape and leave with them."
"Leave?" She stopped and the two boys paused to look at her.
"Pansy." Draco grasped her shoulders, looked her in the eye, and said very seriously, "We're leaving today, no more killing innocents, no more torturing either, understand this Pansy, because I'll drag you out if I have to."
"Why are we waiting then?" She said sternly after a few moments of considering pause.
That was it.
In that moment she sealed all their fates together. They were going to break out of the hellish Death Eater regime and go to the Light. It was scary and they would be giving up everything they had ever known. They'd be put on many torture and kill lists. They would certainly die at some point as someone called them blood traitors and traitors alike.
Draco would never play quidditch in the Manor grounds again, laughing with his friends as someone cheated, again. Never access his family vaults and withdraw as much money as he wished and buy anything he desired. Never proudly declaring his last name and being fawned over for being one of the most influential family's son.
Pansy would never walk into a robe shop and get it for free, though she could surely pay for all her gowns and more. Never coerce Blaise and Draco to picnic on the Parkinson lawn in the summer sun, teasing them about lust interests-they rarely loved as they withheld themselves from others too much to ever allow for that. Never have men falling over themselves for her, and her influence, and her money.
Blaise would never be the silent observer, gathering secrets and information undetected. He would never buy the very best broom before anyone else and hire the best box at the quidditch match. Never gain half the inheritance from another dead stepfather to keep quiet about any discriminating happenings.
They would be heckled in the street. Fearing for their lives from Death Eaters wanting revenge on traitors to the cause. Living in poverty with no family backing. Unable to get jobs because of their past and familial name. Probably doing a stint in Azkaban for the crimes they had already committed under fear of death. Never having families and children because no one would want to associate with ex-Death Eaters. Social pariahs. Traitors. Everything would be given up with unforeseeable consequences.
But in that moment the three met eyes and decided what they'd do together, because that's what they did, stick together. Always.