Narcissa sighed, she could not remove her eyes from Aurelia's pregnant belly. Her heart broke as she remembered the night this child was conceived, she looked to Aurelia's face again for any sign of emotion, but it all was vacant. Their cause had snuffed the spark from this girl, she was yet another living victim to Voldemort's killing spree. She looked to her husband who held Aurelia by her upper arms and stood at his arm's length away from the girl. Narcissa wanted to vomit as she imagined that the baby could quite have easily turned out to be her husbands had her sister, Bellatrix, not waded in and sold Aurelia's supposed virginity. The notion of selling a child to an adult, forced the contents of her stomach a little further into her throat, she stood with her eyes closed and attempted to force another image, any image to the backs of her eyelids, her smooth elegant hand clamped around her facial cheeks but it was the final thought that the adult responsible for this swollen belly was the most powerful and dreadful Dark Lord known to the Wizarding World that propelled the watery chunks through her mouth and nasal passages. Narcissa feebly dropped to her knees and her vomit spewed to the dark wooden floor beneath her. She was living with evil. Her husband grimaced and grunted with shame for both his wife's weakness and somewhat of his actions involved with the current condition of 16-year-old Aurelia Lestrange.
Draco Malfoy had exited his manor home and entered Hogwarts castle with a blast of sound; however, the noise could not compete with the pandemonium that now surrounded the teenage boy, not one student noticed his sudden presence. They were running in every which way, like an ant's nest when stamped upon. They ran in a flurry to escape the onslaught of terror from the Deatheaters that surrounded the school. Draco had only one thought in his mind, 'he cannot fail again'. He had to stay focused, the already weakened stature of his family name was at full stake. Draco quickly located and physically coerced two of his fellow school mates to help him, mostly because they gave him the confidence that he needed to find his mask of violence, cruelty and intimidation.
Malfoy knew of the item Harry searched for and quicker than he expected he spotted Harry enter the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, he then quickly walked back and forth 3 times past the area known to be where the secret door was located, all the while his heart beat wildly in his chest. His comrades looked on in confusion as Draco let his façade fall for just a second, Draco's busy mind had forgotten that the door needed time to answer his request and hastily panicked that he had got it wrong when the entrance did not appear straight away with his last pace. The time that had passed was only a few short seconds, but the boys mind contested with anxiety and to him, those seconds felt like minutes. Once inside, Draco's limbs flailed as he darted to and from each of the very tall piles of objects and curios as he hid and searched for Harry Potter. The Room of Requirement was dangerously cluttered, it appeared to still be a dumping ground even after his illegal use of the room was exposed last year. Draco's body language was frantic, and he resembled a fly with its wings stuck as he ran about the room, his breath was loud and fast, that was until he finally came to spy on the back of Harry Potter.
Draco rolled his shoulders to settle his dishevelled clothing and calm his nerves, as the boy in front of him was stood still and appeared to be looking at something that was hidden from Draco's view. Draco wrapped his slender fingers around his mother's wand that was in a holster that was sewn to the inside of his blazer. Draco's eyes burned as he feared that if he blinked, Harry, but more importantly the object that he desperately desired, would be gone. It was now or never. Draco quietened and focused his mind however the memories of his wand that was forcibly removed from his possession took a hold of him and anger coursed through his veins and although his mouth was dry his spoke with pure retaliation.
"Well, well. What brings you here Potter?" his eyes flickered to the table Harry had been standing at but back to the boy who now stood close to the tip of Narcissa's aloft wand.
Harry Potter spoke to Draco about the wand he possessed at that moment. Draco's confidence began to falter and turn to embarrassment, his eyes shamefully danced between those of Harry's as he spoke to Draco of the night that he lost his wand, Draco was questioned about why he did not say anything to Bellatrix when Harry Potter was inside Malfoy Manor. Draco's heart started to race; he was aware his friends behind him were scrutinising his said actions. Just as the familiar knot of panic began to rise in his chest. Harry's friend Hermione sprinted into view and her hex propelled Narcissa's wand from his sweaty palm. Draco was first to flee; he was so afraid of death that his instinct was to run, so he did, and he swiftly forgot the true reason he was there in that room. He darted between the vast piles of junk that the Room of Requirement was filled with until his friends had caught up with him, they were confronted and cornered by Ron Weasley. Draco's mind flashed back to the day that the trio were in Malfoy Manor, but was quickly disrupted by the boy next to him. Flames poured from the end of his friends' wand, the fire swirled and sloshed like water around them, they had to run again despite the burning protest from his lungs. Draco Malfoy sobbed, and his voice wept from the hollows of his throat as his feet pounded desperately to escape the fire. He suddenly realised the only way was up as quite contrastingly the fire started to flood in towards them and he started to climb a pile of furniture and books, the items rocked and jolted with the weight and rapid movement of him and his companions.
Draco saw one of his friends fall, he was witness to yet more death. The scorching depths below had claimed its first victim, the smell of burning books and flesh ripped through his nose and his mind prepared for the same fate. His face screwed up like that of a baby crying as he held on tight and waited for the heated jaws to snap at his feet. Until he saw that Harry and Harry's friends were escaping on broomsticks, they appeared to be flying in circles, perhaps they couldn't see the exit, or by some miracle they were attempting to perform a rescue. Draco tried to steady his breaths and concentrate on what he needed to do to capture their attention.
The broomstick that Harry Potter steered came close, close enough for Draco to try and reach up, without any exchange of words the boys that were stranded on the tall pile of furniture had to jump on the next pass of their fellow school mates on brooms. The orange pools below were deafening and blinding and searing, but Malfoy had to focus. Harry and his comrades flew around again, and it was at that time that he had to act, he had to let go and jump. He had to trust another person, and that was someone who he had repeatedly attempted to hurt, although Draco had no intention to purposefully hurt the boy, he just had his family honour to uphold. But in that moment Draco wanted to live more than he wanted to remain a Malfoy by reputation. But how could he be sure Harry was being heroic.
Draco acted on impulse and leapt, he managed to grasp a hold of Harry's arm. Harry struggled to steady his broom with the sudden added uneven weight, but they succeeded. They flew high above the roaring fire below until the door was in sight. They were going to make it; they were going to survive. Harry was a hero.
The boys collided with the ground outside of the Room of Requirement's door, their bodies were sore, tired, sweaty and blackened from smoke. Draco had flinched for the impact but quickly regained composure to flee the area. All notion of his mission had escaped his brain. He wanted to go home; he wanted his mother. He wanted this to end, he wanted to live.
Back outside of Hogwarts, Voldemort continued to look on at his villainous work when he was suddenly struck with unfamiliar pain once again. His chest felt like it was being ripped into two, he struggled for breath, his throat closed off to all air that wanted to exit and enter his body. His neck, spine and arms contorted with excruciating spasms of his nervous system. As relief finally came, with a calm sense of knowing he heaved air into his lungs and returned his body to his usual broad posture. His recovery from this distant attack on his immortality was much more prolonged than the previous counts, he stood and let his chest rise and fall graciously and turned to view his followers. Voldemort knew another part of his soul that was carefully and successfully hidden for all these years was just destroyed moments ago. The powerful man could feel as well as calculate that he was down to his final precious stowed away piece. His blood bubbled with rage, the ground on which his bare and dirtied feet stepped on began to hum, Voldemort attempted to conjure another Horcrux, he tried to split his soul another time and readied his mind and set free a killing curse from the tip of the wand he held in his possession, straight for the heart of the first Deatheater who spoke. But this only confirmed to Voldemort what he had already noticed, the wand he had, started to fail him. It refused to do as he commanded. It was at that moment he looked upon who he had killed and although killing filled him with elation, he sought a further high. He then recollected he had another avenue of survival; he knew of a body he could possess. A body which grew with his DNA entwined with another, a boy cradled in the hips of Aurelia, Bellatrix's daughter. The Dark Lord laid his blue and brooding eyes upon the senior Lestrange woman. His tongue licked upon his smirked top lip as his deep eyes glistened with marvel at the thought of her daughter and their son.