A/N: This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend that was suddenly ripped from my life.
Day Two: The Apparating Dead
The awkwardness of the previous night crept into their morning breakfast. She couldn't bring herself to look Draco in the eye. Ashamed he had seen her in such a vulnerable and disgusting state.
She was surprised when Lucius appeared at the table. He looked hung over. His blond hair was matted and he reeked of cologne. They openly gawked at him.
"You could have had the elf bring that to you in bed."
Lucius took a bite of toast. "Absolutely not. I have a meeting to attend today. Wrapping up that proposal," he said, looking like he was about to throw up again. "Besides that, I have to find a new assistant."
"Mary drop dead, did she?" Narcissa asked with a hint of glee in her voice.
Lucius nodded. "Something like that. Easily replaceable though."
Of course she is. A million little tarts out there begging to suck your cock, darling. Albeit, I'm not sure even the goddess knows why.
Lucius coughed, and Narcissa tensed. "Perhaps you should floo, darling," she tentatively suggested. She dreaded the thought of a splinched Lucius hanging in the sitting room.
"I...I think I will." He wandered from the sunny breakfast room, pausing in the doorway as if to remember which way to the floo. Draco watched this with a look of surprise and amusement. Narcissa shook her head.
When Lucius finally disappeared around the corner, Draco spoke quietly. "What the hell has got into father?"
"I don't know, Draco. He's ill, I think. And too stubborn to see to himself."
"Looks serious." Draco's eyes sought hers out over the tea service. "Did he hurt you last night?" The question bordered on violence.
"No. Not really." Cissa blushed and gestured amorphously. "Just... It was nothing."
Her son's gaze darkened. Some unspoken thing threatened beneath his pale, genteel features. It passed, and that which was spoken was nearly as disturbing. "Well. Perhaps whatever this is will kill him."
"Draco!" But she couldn't reprimand him, even though he watched her expectantly. She couldn't be such a hypocrite.
Lucius staggered from the floo in the oddly empty Ministry of Magic. He waited for the lift and could hear moaning coming from the ground floor corridors. Have people no shame to at least try and hide the fact they have mistresses? Especially at the office. I shall have to make sure such lower class persons are evicted. Promptly. His eyebrows raised at what sounded suspiciously like an echoing wail.
The lift arrived. Empty. As annoyed as Lucius was to have to push the button for floor four he was happy to see they had finally fired the incompetent lift operator. When the gate closed, he made to push back a stray shank of white-blonde hair, brought up short in the motion by something on his finger.
"Guh." He groused. Sniffed the sticky red fluid. It was acrid, curled his nose and lip. Upon further investigation, he found the lift's panel dripping with the stuff. What the hell is happening here? A wave of dizziness washed over him and he steadied himself on the lift gate. Its violent motion threatened to make him sick again. Not that it would matter. Apparently this place now collects filth.
The normally busy corridors were unusually empty. His secretary was slumped over her desk. Too much firewhiskey, no doubt. He swayed and stopped for a moment to regain his focus. Stumbled into the meeting room.
Mr. Romero was standing at a charmed window, wobbling slightly on his feet. "Sir," Lucius managed. "I'm afraid I'm..." Words failed him when the older wizard turned fully. His normally kind wizened face was slack, the pallor bordering on battleship grey, twinkly eyes milky white. "Sir?" Very wrong...and this smell?!
Romero took a step forward. It was lurching and uncertain, as if his hip was unhinged. His foot turned oddly inward. Looked painful. Lucius took a step back. He felt terribly slow, but still able to recognise something vaguely threatening. I should...go home.
"Sir," he repeated. But Romero groaned loudly, gurgled and lurched again. "Right." Lucius felt the door's latch, made to turn it. At least the old bastard is too slow to -
He didn't even finish the thought. Romero sniffed, then moved with such unexpected speed Lucius lost track of his movements. He simply fell through the opening door, scrambled to his feet and fled. Racing past opened and trashed offices, he saw the others - the numerous behaving just as Romero had.
He stumbled on something on the way to the lift, looked down and was horrified to see Mary there on the carpet. Well, most of Mary. A great portion of her lovely body seemed to have been gnawed away. He vomited, for some reason still reaching toward the witch, as if touching her would make this real.
His shaking fingertips neared her frozen, horrified face. Her mouth seemed open on a silent scream. "Mary," he whispered.
A growl. A blur. Mary leapt to life, hands closing round his neck.
Lucius couldn't hide a guttural scream of pure, concentrated terror. He pissed his trousers and threw the barely-there witch away. She crumpled against a wall, but was rising as he did. He ran, cowardice and instinct blending into one driving force. When he reached the lift, he found it filled.
Staggered from the captive mass of dilapidated bodies, some feasting on others, their arms and hands with varying numbers of mangled fingers were straining through the grating, reaching for the panicked Malfoy.
From the other direction Mary, Romero and a host of other nightmares moved with speed, hungry for him. No other option. His muddled mind tried to concentrate. He felt fingers on his clothing. Apparated in desperation. He felt solid ground beneath his feet, dropped to it gratefully, smelled the gardenias of his lovely home...and another more troubling smell...something akin to death...
His vision blurred, and then everything went black.
"Where in the world is he?" asked Narcissa as she finished the last of her supper.
Draco looked up at her from across the table. "Do we care? Honestly?"
She said nothing. Unable to feign the slightest bit of concern anymore. Probably trying out a new assistant. She hoped he would get sick on her too.
They sat in silence. Not knowing what to say yet not bothered by the fact they didn't.
Crash! They jumped up from the table. They ran to the sitting room to find Lucius face down in the middle of a broken table and a shattered vase. Various other men in suits and cloaks lay scattered in the room.
Narcissa stood in the entry with her hands on her hips. "I told you to bloody floo! You're in no state to apparate and you've broken my favourite vase!" Not only did he apparate drunk but he brought a bunch of drunken arseholes with him!
Lucius moaned.
Draco and Narcissa looked at each other silently arguing who would have to help the poor sods to their feet.
"You're stronger," Narcissa finally said
Draco rolled his eyes and walked over to where Lucius lay. He tugged on his father's left shoulder trying to turn him over. "How much did you drink?" Draco muttered. He heard a sickening crunching sound as he pulled. He finally managed to turn Lucius over and jumped back in surprise.
His once regal and well groomed father was now tinged in blues and purples. His suit was torn and dirty. One of his lower eyelids was completely gone. Shredded flesh was all that was left. Lucius snarled at him. His teeth were covered in blood and some were chipped or missing.
Draco stumbled backwards until he was completely against a wall. He stared at Lucius. Unable to break contact with the remains of his father's eyes.
Lucius fumbled for a moment and then stood up. Draco heard his mother gasp. He stumbled towards Draco.
Draco took out his wand and pointed it at Lucius. "Stupify!" He shouted.
Nothing happened.
"Petrificus totalus!"
Lucius was moving closing.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The curse stopped Lucius for a brief second before he began to move again. Closer and closer. Draco panicked. He lifted his wand like a javelin and shoved it through one of Lucius's eyes.
Lucius stumbled backwards and fell to the floor with a didn't move. The sound of groaning and cracking became louder. Draco looked up to see the other men start standing and moving towards him.
"Draco!" He heard Narcissa shout. He turned in time to see his mother smash one of the men over the head with a silver candelabra. The man dropped to the ground. The commotion drew the others near.
Draco ran to his mother. They stood almost paralysed, watching the men hobble and drag themselves closer to them. Draco grabbed her arm and tugged her backwards. They closed the doors to the sitting room and cast a locking spell upon it.
Leaning against the doors they could hear the men pounding against the doors in mindless frustration.
"I told you! I fucking told you!" Draco panted.
"Told me what?"
Draco swallowed. "Zombies! Like the muggles! I told you!"
"Alright, you were right. What do we do?" Panic was starting to creep into Narcissa's voice.
"I don't know!"
"What do you mean you don't know?" Narcissa said, her voice going up an octave. "You've read about them haven't you? Listened to the wireless? What do we do, Draco?!"
Before he could respond there was another loud crack and one of the men who had been in the sitting room appeared in the corridor. A spell erupted from the wand that was impaled in his hand. It bounced off the floor and disappeared into the far wall.
Draco felt his pockets for his wand. "Fuck," he whispered. "My wand is still stuck in father's head."
Narcissa fired spell after spell at the zombie. "Sectumsempra!" She shouted. A cut appeared in the zombie's stomach and its organs slowly began spilling out onto the floor. Narcissa choked back the bile that rose in her throat. Amazingly, the zombie carried on, dragging heavy feet through its own innards.
Draco followed her as she backed away and ran up the stairs. They ran through the manor until they reached Narcissa & Lucius's room. They slammed the doors shut and Narcissa began casting every shield and protection charm she could think of.
"I'm not sure that will help," Draco said, collapsing on the bed.
"I don't care. I just need...something," she said, casting one more enchantment before she fell on the bed beside him.
Draco gripped the duvet. "They've been known to apparate. To cast spells sporadically like young wizard children before they've been to school." He took a deep breath. "Father must have brought them back here."
Even between life and death he still manages to fuck things up and make me miserable, Narcissa thought. "But how do they apparate? That requires focus, concentration. These are shells of wizards!"
"They don't know," he responded. "No one knows."