As Remus listened to what Minerva knew of Neomi's situation, he scowled. He hadn't seen the girl in years, not since he'd been her professor, but he remembered her as being a quiet girl, shy, and having a gentle nature. Whenever one of her classmates had been rude, or disruptive, she had always seemed offended by their attitude, but too afraid to say anything. He'd always assumed she'd been placed in Slytherin for her blood, and perhaps for her brains, for she'd displayed a fair amount of cunning when necessary. But, it seemed that he'd misjudged her, and that she'd have made a fine Gryffindor, as well. If her life at Malfoy Manor, particularly in the last few months, had been half as bad as what Minerva claimed, the girl had a core of steel.

"Apparently, the child is something of a sass, as well," Minerva said. "Severus informed me that she has recently been taunting the Death Eaters, and quite successfully."

He leaned forward slightly. "Why would she do that, though? Why would she purposefully anger them? It doesn't seem like there would be any benefit to it."

"She wanted it to be over," a voice called, and the pair turned to see Draco in the doorway, his face drawn and tired. "She wanted them to lose control. To end it."

Lupin's brow quirked in surprise. It took an interesting character, to tempt those who held your life in their hands. To try and make them take it.

"That explains Severus' sense of urgency," Minerva said, her eyes wide. He hadn't told her that detail, if he'd even known.

Draco nodded, and he rubbed his head a little. "So, could we not talk to her about this? At least tonight? She's exhausted, and I don't think she should have to relive all that until she's had time to rest."

Lupin and Minerva each nodded. "Of course," she said gently, "we wouldn't dream of asking her to talk about any of it now." She heard a faint snore from the kitchen, and smiled. "Already asleep, is she?"

Draco nodded. "She ate as much of the pie as she could stomach, and then she passed out. I was going to ask, what room is she supposed to stay in? So I can take her to it and let her sleep in a bed? She hasn't since…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but it was unnecessary. They all knew she hadn't had a bed since the night she'd arrived home from Hogwarts the previous year.

"It's a lot for anyone to go through, particularly a fifteen year old girl," Lupin said, sadness in his voice. Harry had been through a lot, but the closest he'd come to torture was dueling the Dark Lord, and those encounters had been short compared to the sessions Neomi had sat through. According to Severus, the shortest ones were a couple of hours, and they usually lasted closer to four.

Silence filled the room for a moment as the three of them thought on that, that Neomi was still essentially a child. Draco's head fell a little as shame welled in his chest, shame that he couldn't better protect his sister. Minerva saw it, and her lips thinned. "Don't you start that, Draco Malfoy, don't you dare start to blame yourself for this. You have been taking care of her since before you were old enough to take care of yourself, and this is not your fault. You are not going to help her any by sitting around, moping because you think you failed her. You did what you could, kept her fed and stayed with her. She's here now, and she's safe."

Minerva stood abruptly, and Draco watched her through wide, somewhat afraid eyes. He hadn't seen her snap at him like this since she'd given him and Harry's group detention for being out past their bedtime first year. "Now, go get her up, and I'll take you to her room, so you can put her to bed and that poor child can get a decent night's sleep." She walked into the kitchen, Draco just behind, and waited.

"Mi, wake up for a second," Draco whispered, his hand on her shoulder, shaking lightly.

Neomi came awake violently, waving her arms like she would hit the person waking her. Her eyes were cloudy with sleep, but afraid, just one more example of how traumatic her life had become of late. She shouted something unintelligible, and sat up, slapping Draco across the cheek. She went to strike again, still half asleep, but he caught her hand.

"Neomi, relax, it's me. It's Draco. You're not in the basement anymore. You're safe."

Her eyes cleared a little, and she relaxed her arms. "Dray? I… Oh, I'm so sorry!" Draco's cheek was a nice, bright red color where she'd struck him. She blushed, and looked around. "Where… where are…" Her eyes light up a little in recognition. "We escaped," she said lamely, and he nodded. "And I hit you. Because you were trying to wake me up." He nodded again, and her blush deepened. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Mi." Draco assured her. "I was just trying to get you up so we could get you to a bed."

At the word 'bed,' Neomi's eyes sparked. "Bed? Like, with a headboard and a mattress and blankets?" She supposed it was silly to be so excited about that prospect, given that they'd been brought to a safe house, but she'd been sleeping upright, on a rather uncomfortable bench, for as far back as her memory was willing to go at that moment. A bed seemed like a luxury.

Minerva smiled. "Yes, child. Why, it'll even have pillows," she teased, trying to mask the horror that a girl could be so excited about something as simple as sleeping in a bed. It was hard to look at Neomi, at her bruised and scarred arms, at her sad, sunken eyes, and to think about how she had come to be that way.

Neomi stood up carefully, her hand on the table. She was pretty worn out from the escape, and from the months before. Draco wrapped his arm around her waist when she started to fall. "I've got you, Mi." He looked to Minerva. "Let's get her to bed, shall we?"

McGonagall nodded, and led Draco and Neomi up the stairs, to a small but quaint bedroom. Not wasting any time, Draco carried her in and sat her on the chest at the foot of the bed to pull the covers back for her. She climbed in a moment later, not bothering to ask for fresh clothes or anything. She was asleep before her head hit the pillows.