Ana had no idea what she was doing out of the dirt prison beneath the Malfoy mansion. Wormtail had come that afternoon and brought her out into the sunlight. Well, relative sunlight. At least she could see some streaming in through the windows. With the drapes still drawn it was difficult to say what time it could be, and the dark décor of the rooms she had walked through to reach the small and intimate drawing room cast an air of doom and gloom about the spaces.
Ana sat on one of the dust coated sofas, smoothing her braided locks and attempting to look as though her time in their dungeons had not been as hard as they would have liked, but as soon as her reflection caught her eye in the floor to ceiling mirror across from where Wormtail had seated her Ana knew there would be no sugar coating the past six months. Four were spent in the wild without much food or water and no chance to keep herself clean and orderly. The past two in a dark crawlspace beneath a house, small and being shared with two other prisoners. She hadn't seen her own face reflected back at her for some time. Her hair had dulled from malnourishment, much like the rest of her body. Veins showed stark blue against her paled skin from lack of sunlight and the dark circles beneath her eyes made her look as though perhaps she had suffered like a prisoner in Azkaban under the cruel nature of dementors.
While she continued to view her sickly appearance, Draco Malfoy was shown into the dust caked room by Wormtail, who proceeded to leave them alone. Draco charmed the door locked and strode across the worn wood floor to stand in front of Ana. From behind his back he produced a self-inking quill and a pad of parchment. After a moment he sighed, saying, "The Dark Lord is getting impatient with trying to find Potter on his own. Tell us where he's hiding and he's more than happy to let you go."
Ana did nothing. She didn't even want to look at him. So she stared ahead, meeting her own eyes which had grown dark in the months she had been kept hostage. But Draco was in no mood for games. He slammed his fist on the coffee table to draw her attention, which he gained. Ana started at the sharpness of the noise and watched as Draco sat himself on the table in front of her, his eyes perfectly in line with hers.
"We'll let you go wherever you want. London, even send you overseas if you want. We'll bring you back to Moscow. Fully armed." He dropped his voice and grabbed the pad beside him. He handed it to her. "One work is all it takes. Where would Potter go? Grimmauld Place?"
Ana had had quite enough of this herself. She held out her empty palm and Draco placed the quill in it with a sinister smile. Ana scratched the quill across the pad and handed the parchment back. The smile on Draco's face faded as he read her response.
'Are you crazy?'
"I'm not crazy. I…" Draco threw down the pad and stood back up. He started pacing the room. Eventually he himself faced the mirror and looked himself up and down. "I don't know…I don't know if I'm crazy anymore. I have everything I want. It's just…not how I thought it would be."
Ana hardly knew what to say to this. It was the first time she had ever heard Draco like this: soft, unsure. Maybe even a little scared. The boy continued talking.
"I don't know what's right anymore. Everything feels wrong lately. I torture some loser who screws up a plan and get this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to be sick. And it's because of what I'm doing." He turned back around to look at Ana. "I don't know anything anymore. Right. Wrong. I don't even know about who I am or what I am. What I could be if I tried to just…think for myself."
Draco stood before her, arms crossed over his chest. "Look, I knew you weren't going to tell me. I just…wanted someone to talk to. Potter always seemed to find it easy enough to confide in a mute."
Ana reached to grab the pad and quill from the floor. She scratched out something very quickly and handed it to Draco.
'Only you know what's right for you.'
Draco read, nodded and asked for the quill. After Ana handed it over he wrote a response and passed the pad back.
'I don't know what's right for me yet…but I want to help you.'
Draco stowed the pad and quill in his pockets and called on Wormtail after lifting the charm from the door. The rodent like man led Ana back to the basement door, opened it, and pushed her through. After stumbling to the bottom there was a moment of silence before a small light illuminated the space enough for Ana to find her corner of the crawlspace. "I'm glad to see you're no worse for wear visiting the little prince," Griphook sniffed.
Ana motioned to Ollivander who was holding the match. He scooted closer to her and Ana directed his attention to the dirt. She drew her finger through the loose earth. 'Where did the matches come from?'
Ollivander stalled a moment before saying, "They were here when we got here, and they are always replenished. I can't be certain who…but I suspect it's Malfoy's son."
Ana smiled for the first time in months. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. And if that was true, that meant there could be a glimmer of hope for her.