Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the plot, characters, spell names, places, etc. mentioned in the Harry Potter books and movies. I am writing for fun and not for profit.
Summary: Set after HBP. After months of enduring cruel games at the hand of Death Eaters as punishment for his failure, Draco manages to escape. Seriously injured, wandless, and accompanied by a 4-yr-old muggle girl, he struggles to survive. Will he be able to help put an end to the war, or will he suffer a fate worse than death?
Warnings: Dark themes, language
Chapter 5
He was dying. There was no doubt about it. Never will he find out what had happened to his mother. Never will he be able to free his father from Azkaban. Never again will he experience freedom. Instead, here he was, slouching precariously on a cracked stone step, dying.
For perhaps the sixteenth time, Draco let out a groan and pushed himself up another step. His eyes were momentarily closed in order to prevent a sudden blurriness in vision from unbalancing him. Every stitch in his side, every wave of agony, and every short bout of dizziness nearly convinced him to quit and collapse on the cold stone floor.
Yet Draco climbed doggedly on, trying his best to ignore his pain and concern about the possibility of a Death Eater coming down the stairs while he was – Draco grimaced – vulnerable. The thought of him so defenseless frustrated him. Snapping open his eyes, Draco stared at the last few steps in reproach. He knew he was capable of running for miles without any trouble, but now he was reduced to a handicapped elderly attempting to go to bed on a second floor. Gritting his teeth, he straightened his back, aligned his shoulders, tilted up his chin, and forced himself to walk the last few steps as he normally would.
Once Draco finally came upon the top of the stairs, he dropped to the floor despite himself as relief coursed throughout his body, liquefying his muscles.
"Are you sleepy?" The squeaky voice behind him grated on Draco's ears. He would've rolled his eyes but even doing that seemed to require too much energy. The small girl stalked a few steps until she faced him. Draco gazed at the tiny girl somewhat warily. "Mum said to go to sleep when you feel sleepy. If you don't, you turn into an ugly vampire," she stated earnestly.
Draco narrowed his eyes, staying silent. After a short moment of studying the seemingly innocent face, he reassured himself that the muggle was simply an idiot and was not actually teasing him. With a faint sigh, he got up from the ground, trying his best to tolerate the sharp twinge his wound gave. He gazed down the dimly lit corridor. It was eerily quiet, as if he and the girl were the only ones in the manor.
Buoyed by his success at climbing the stairs, Draco set off at a steady but slow pace towards the manor's foyer. From there, he could access the grand stairway to his parents' suites. He hoped to find his mother in her rooms.
The little girl easily kept pace beside him. Her large eyes shined with excitement at the possibility of seeing her mother again. Frequently, she peered at Draco out of the corners of her eyes, as if to reassure herself that he didn't magically disappear and leave her alone.
If Draco noticed her sidelong glances, he didn't show it. Instead, his eyes darted from one patch of shadow to another while he attempted to come up with a plan. He knew this manor better than the backs of his own hands. Secret passages and rooms were no secret to him, and he was aware of every single route of entry and exit in the manor. However, his familiarity with his own home will be for naught if he unknowingly stumbled headlong into a Death Eater. He was no match for a full grown wizard in his condition, even a startled full grown wizard. Draco's brows furrowed in contemplation and gradually, his steps slowed. After taking only a few steps more, he stopped in the middle of the hallway.
The girl followed suit, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and impatience on her face. Draco glanced down at her and understood her feelings immediately. She was anxious to find her mother, as was he. Truthfully, he cared nothing about the girl or her mother, and for a moment, Draco entertained the idea of simply leaving the girl back in the cell. However, the thought was easily set aside. The girl did not hinder him as much as his wound did, and leaving a child in the hands of the Dark Lord's agents was too cruel even for him. As for her mother…if the woman wasn't in the dungeons under the kitchens, she was either dead or claimed by a Death Eater. Draco curled his lips in disgust at the thought, and though his gut turned uneasily, he simply could not poke his head in every bedroom occupied by a Death Eater to find the woman. He might as well head straight to the Dark Lord and bare his throat for him to slit. As his thoughts unfurled, Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the girl waiting quietly beside him.
His mother, on the other hand, wasn't a stranger. He must make an effort to find her and take her away from her humiliating life as a house elf. Suddenly, the image of him aiming his wand at her kneeling form returned unbidden in his mind, bringing with it a nauseous lurch of his stomach. The uncertainties and uneasiness he had felt in his prison returned. His mind whirled with dozens of questions clamoring to hold more than a second of his contemplation.
"I want Mum."
The sudden statement brought Draco out of his musings. He turned his gray eyes to the muggle once again, then jerked his head to the end of the corridor as he realized he had been standing stalk still in the middle of the hallway where anyone could easily see and attack him. Quick eyes scanned his surroundings, shoulders tensed. Once Draco reassured himself that no enemy had decided to sneak up on him, he turned to the girl. The girl, in turn, widened her eyes in expectation.
"We have to leave this place," Draco said slowly and clearly. He had no idea how much her young mind could understand, and he was never really good with children. However, he'll be damned if the girl screwed up his chance of escaping. The fact that he had gotten this far only thanks to the girl conveniently slipped his mind.
"We get Mum first," she replied, nodding her head in childish certainty. "Your mum too," she added.
Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering whether he should deny her outright or allow her to continue believing he would actually attempt to find her mother. If he told her the truth here, she may no longer wish to follow him. Once again, the uneasy feeling returned. No, his conscience would never allow him to leave her here. He gave a brief nod, and then faced determinedly toward the end of the hallway. He could barely make out the faint shadow of the plain wooden door that led to yet another hallway, albeit a much grander one.
Every movement careful and tentative, Draco continued his way toward his prison's exit. It was difficult and exhausting, yet he moved on, his mouth set in a grim line so that only the barest hint of his lips was visible. After a while, the edges of his vision blurred and his heartbeat noticeably quickened. Draco sighed in exasperation at his current state but kept his slow pace toward the door.
Finally, Draco reached out a hand to grasp the cool brass doorknob. Bringing his body close to the wooden frame and silencing his breathing, he slowly turned the knob and opened the door to reveal a slight opening.
His current location was a nondescript dusty corner of the main corridor. Shadows generously covered several meters outward from the door. Strangely, none of the myriad lamps spaced evenly on the stone walls were lit. The sight before him caused chilly tingles to travel up and down his spine. This hallway had always been bright with either the lamps' glow or sunlight through the long window that covered the entire opposite wall. Now, the window was sealed tight with heavy curtains.
After making sure that no one skulked among the shadows, Draco pulled the door open wider and took a step forward, another foot away from his blasted prison.
Draco continued to move away from the door, keeping his back close to the wall. He placed the tips of his toes upon the ground gently, and then slowly eased his foot down until the balls of his feet contacted the floor with not even the slightest whisper of sound. He was quiet, little more than a shadow. However…
Draco grimaced when, once again, there was the sound of shuffling feet behind him. Gritting his teeth, he stopped and turned to face the muggle. The girl was crouched in a typical sneaking pose with both arms bent before her and head hunched into her shoulders. Her tiny feet strained on tip toes while her knees were bent at an angle that hindered rather than helped her ability to move quietly. Her face was the epitome of fierce concentration. The sight of her nearly had him smirking in amusement, but he managed to school his face into a stern expression instead. He raised a finger to his lips and reached out with his other hand to stop her. Leaning in close to her ear, he breathed, "Don't make any sounds. Copy what I do." When the girl nodded, Draco turned forward and continued on his way. He attempted to push his pain to the back of his mind, focusing instead on his surroundings.
The main corridor remained empty. Stone pillars occasionally rose up to the high ceiling, casting even darker shadows. Doors that interrupted the wall behind his back were shut tight. No hint of light or sound permeated through the small cracks. Draco knew where each door led to, even though he had never entered quite a few of them. A couple minutes of ago, he had passed the gallery of the Malfoy lineage. The absence of noise behind that particular gilded ebony door was now a common thing. Whether through magic or by personal choice, the many portraits ceased talking when the manor was usurped. No sound, not even a cough or sniffle, was made. For some reason, Draco couldn't help but breathe out in relief when he was a few steps away from the door. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath.
Draco's breathing hitched when he realized he was approaching the manor's foyer. The foyer, located exactly in the center of the north side of the manor, was a sight to behold. The high engraved ceiling shown with a never-ending magical glow, washing the room with soft golden light. Delicate glassworks and sculptures carved by talented purebloods were spaced evenly around the area. The marble floor shined brightly as though it were recently cleaned.
Draco and the girl entered the foyer from the west. Directly across from him was the east main corridor, where the kitchens and rooms perfect for social gatherings were located. To his right was the main entrance to the manor. The great doors shimmered with ethereal light, an effect of the many wards placed upon it. To his left was his destination: the grand staircase to the family's living quarters. There were two identical staircases, one leading east and the other leading west. The west staircase led to dozens upon dozens of guestrooms. The east staircase led to the Malfoys' private rooms, whether it be bedrooms, libraries, or studies. Before the return of the Dark Lord, no one but the Malfoys were allowed to enter the east hallway on the second story.
Still standing near the entrance to the west main corridor, comfortably in the shadows, Draco gazed upon the staircases with disgust. There was easily double the number of steps on this one compared to the staircase leading out of his prison. However, if he fell, he would at least fall on plush, soft carpet instead of sharp, cold stone. The thought did not put him completely at ease.
The longer he stared, the greater his misgivings grew. Not only would his wound guarantee a slow and painful journey to the second floor, but he would also be completely exposed. Who knew how many Death Eaters prowled up there? With a sigh, Draco cast his gaze randomly about the room, hoping inspiration would strike. For the next few minutes, he flipped through the list of secret passageways in his head. Many would not suit his needs, and though some would certainly be useful in escaping the manor, none would help him get to his mother's bedroom. Hidden tunnels existed in every room located in the east hallway of the second story; however, every single one of tunnels led outside of the manor grounds, to a place where Apparition was allowed.
Without even realizing it, Draco had rested his eyes on the entrance of the hallway directly across from him. Once he emerged from his thoughts and registered the sight, the clear image of his mother before his wand flashed once again in his memory. Draco bit his lip, turning the memory over and over in his head. He tried to remember which direction his mother had entered his vision. Did she come from the dungeons like the other prisoners? Or through the door leading back to the kitchen? Draco sighed when he drew a blank. He stared dubiously at the dim hallway, contemplating his next move. He could visit the dungeons and see if his mother were there. The journey would certainly be safer than climbing the staircase and poking his head around the Death Eater's sleeping quarters.
Safer, Draco thought. Safer is better. Nodding to himself, he set one foot carefully forward, preparing himself to make a mad dash across the bright foyer to the dark, which hopefully meant empty, east corridor. Just as he was about to tell the little girl beside him to follow closely, his ears picked up a faint sound
Draco froze. The sound was continuous and getting louder. His heart fluttered when he recognized the pat-pat sound of feet on carpet. Worried, he raised his eyes to the tops of the staircases, where the junction between the guestrooms and the family quarters could be seen from the first story. He could see no one, not even a shadow. Yet, those footsteps can only come from up there. The sound was still too faint for it to come from behind him, and the corridor across from him had marble floors. Heart in his throat, he retreated further into the shadows, never removing his eyes from the tops of the stairs.
"What's…"
Quicker than he thought possible, Draco clapped a hand over the girl's mouth, eyes wide with alarm. Anger flared hot within him, and he yanked her arm quite roughly back into the relative safety of the west corridor. Ignoring her look of stunned surprise, Draco hissed into her ear, "Keep quiet and stay." With that, he turned quickly around, sneaking back into the foyer to see if anyone had emerged into sight and leaving the muggle to stand hidden behind a stone pillar alone in the dark.
When he returned to the end of the west corridor, he cautiously poked his head past the corner, peering up as he did so. Now, the sound of footsteps was no longer faint. He could clearly hear each footfall and only a few seconds later, he made out the dim shade of someone's shadow growing bigger on the wall. Draco involuntarily shrank back a little. However, curiosity kept him from retreating completely.
He didn't have to wait long for the figure to appear. The person, slender and of medium height, arrived at the top of the west staircase, and Draco squinted his eyes to better make out the features of the face. Almost immediately, recognition dawned on him. A cold stone of shock settled in his stomach and it took him awhile to reassure himself that his eyes weren't lying to him.
One of the more intelligent of his small group of friends, Pansy Parkinson strolled down the grand staircase as if she owned the manor. She had allowed her dark hair to grow out and it tumbled down to the small of her back. Her tanned skin seemed to glow golden in the ceiling's magical light. Her usual look of disdain was absent. Instead, her expression was unguarded, and she appeared bored as she made her way down.
Pressing himself closer to the wall, Draco tried to figure out where his old friend was headed. If she were to make her way toward him, he had to move fast. Perhaps take the muggle and hide behind one of the dozens of doors they had passed.
Once Pansy set foot upon the foyer's floor, she immediately turned toward the east corridor. Draco just barely managed to contain his sigh of relief. He watched her back as she walked away from him. As she made her way to the center of the foyer, a stream of questions bubbled in Draco's mind. Why was Pansy here? Why had he met no Death Eaters while arriving here? Why was the gate to his cell unlocked? However, perhaps the most important question of all repeated itself again and again in his mind. Where was his mother?
Suddenly, a noise behind him nearly caused him to whirl around. With barely a twitch of his shoulders, he forced himself to stay still. Any movement may create more sounds that might bring Pansy's attention to his hiding spot. To his dismay, the noise did not cease. It was a sniffling sound. Draco strained his ears and could make out irregular sighs and occasional wet-sounding sniffs.
That little muggle girl was crying. Crying. Crying loudly.
Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance as he refocused his vision onto Pansy's back. To his horror, she had frozen, standing with her back ramrod straight and head tilted slightly to the side. Draco watched as Pansy slowly turned around to face him. Her face still showed no expression, though her brows were somewhat wrinkled in curiosity. When she set one foot toward him, Draco slowly removed himself from the corner he had been leaning against to watch her. As quietly as he could, he retreated deeper into the west corridor, closer to the sound of the muggle's crying.
He hadn't taken the girl too far into the corridor. His wound didn't allow him much energy for that. Nevertheless, her location still seemed too far away for him to make it to her before Pansy reached the corridor's entrance. Despite the darkness, Draco had no doubt that she would be able to see him.
Draco quickened his steps as much as he could. He was hindered both by his desire to keep silent and his ever annoying wound. At the same time, he was thinking. Draco was always thinking. He thought about grabbing the girl and running quickly to his ancestors' gallery, where a secret tunnel led to the manor's maze garden outside. He could easily lose Pansy among the tall indestructible hedges. However, once they set foot outside, it would be impossible for him to return. Ancient wards locked every secret exit in order to prevent accidental discovery of the manor from curious eyes. Draco couldn't do it. He couldn't give up this chance to free at least one of his parents. Suddenly, on a whim, he stopped and rushed through the nearest door he could reach.
Absently, he noted that he had entered one of the many music rooms in the manor. A dusty grand piano stood solitary in the corner of the room. Draco didn't shut the door completely. Instead, he allowed a small slit, just big enough for one eye to see through.
He waited for what seemed like a few minutes. Pansy must be very cautious or simply taking her sweet time. Draco hadn't even gone that far into the corridor.
Just as he was about to doubt whether Pansy had actually followed him, he noticed the bright light of a wand making its way nearer to him. Fighting the urge to slam the door shut and scramble to hide in a dark corner, Draco watched on as Pansy came upon his door. He held his breath, praying that she continue on without noticing this particular door out of the many other doors she had already went by.
When Pansy passed his position and moved on toward the sound of crying, Draco almost sighed in relief. He wasn't done yet, however, as seeing the girl out and about may warn Pansy that he had escaped as well.
Quickly, he shifted his mind into strict order as he had done so many times before in his battles with Death Eaters. It was a strange phenomenon, one he hadn't even noticed he'd been doing until he had been snapped out of it by a painful hex to his back. In this mind state, he had the ability to dull all feelings, including pain, and sharpen his focus. No satisfaction, fear, fright, or joy. Only a concentrated focus that resulted in swift deliberate action. That is, until he encountered something that frightened the deepest core of his inner self.
He waited until Pansy moved a few meters away from his door, and then quickly pulled the door open wider and slipped out in one smooth motion. Somewhere in his head, Draco absently thanked whoever was watching over him when the door did not creak on its hinges.
Carefully, taking only shallow silent breaths, Draco snuck up behind Pansy. The witch continued on, unaware that her childhood friend was only a couple feet away. Watching her, Draco contemplated his next move. When no great idea came, he broke his mind even further, dulling his focus and settling into a state that trusted the instincts honed into him in the past few months.
Fluidly, Draco reached out and grabbed her wand arm, yanking her roughly toward him. She whirled easily, as she was on the small side, a look of shock upon her face. Despite his dulled emotions, Draco felt a small pang of regret as he shot out his other hand, palm heel out, and precisely struck the solar plexus a little above her stomach.
Air flew out of Pansy's lips, and she staggered back, falling on her bottom when she tripped over her own feet. She dropped her wand and brought both arms to her stomach. Gasping and looking up, she stared, still in shock at Draco, who had picked up her wand.
"Ah, Pansy," Draco said quietly, easing himself back into a normal mind state. "I'm sorry. Does it hurt terribly?"
For a while, Pansy did nothing but look at him. Her eyes traveled from his face, to his torso, where he wore nothing but bandages, and back again. Suddenly, her face screwed up in rage. "What the fuck, Draco?" she growled low in her throat. Seemingly recovered, she picked herself off the floor and stood before him, ignoring the fact that he held her wand. She stared at him for a moment longer, and then opened her mouth, "I haven't seen you in forever, and the first thing you do is attack me?"
Draco blinked but didn't say anything. He inched his way toward the wall to his right, gripping the wand tightly in his right hand. Once his back was safely to the wall, allowing him to view both ends of the hallway, he said "I already apologized, Pansy. Tell me; are you also a Death Eater?"
Pansy appeared surprised at the question. She shrugged. "No," she answered simply.
Draco raised an eyebrow at her short answer. He rolled his eyes. "Then why are you here?"
"Why are you here?" she countered. "I believe they stuck you in a cell, in your own home." Before Draco could reply she jerked her head in the direction of the crying sound, which by now, had ceased. "And what the hell was that? Someone crying? It wasn't you, was it?" She placed both hands on her hips. "Draco, give me a reason why I shouldn't summon all the Death Eaters here right now." She sounded slightly exasperated.
"Are you saying there's a chance you won't turn me in?" Now, it was Draco's turn to be surprised, but despite that, he still held her wand at ready.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. "We've known each other since we were in diapers. I won't betray you. But," she shrugged. "Ask me this a couple days ago, I probably would've handed you off to the nearest Death Eater in a heartbeat." She grinned, her large brown eyes alighting in mirth.
"Really. What was going on a couple days ago?"
"Well, I only arrived here a couple days ago, and this place wasn't this empty back then. I even got a glimpse of the Dark Lord, and oh Draco, he looked positively overjoyed. It was a frightful sight, I'll be honest. Everyone was in high energy, actually. It was damned amusing, only when, you know, they didn't have their attentions on you," Pansy grimaced. Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. She shifted her weight and then took a small step toward him. "I looked for you for hours. Your bloody manor is ridiculous. The few people who would answer my questions simply told me that they stuck you in a cell somewhere. They didn't even know where." Suddenly, her voice became small. "No one told me you were injured."
Draco glanced down at his bandages. "Ah, yes. The Dark Lord stuck a sword in me." Ignoring Pansy's look of disgust, he continued, "Pansy, do you know where my mother is?"
Instead of answering his question, she whispered, "Like when Potter hurt you, right? In sixth year, he almost killed you."
Usually, Draco enjoyed her concern, but now, he waved the matter aside impatiently. "Pansy, stay with me here. Where's my mother? Or my wand?"
Pansy shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea. She's not in her rooms; I'm staying in there for the time being." She had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "I haven't seen her or your wand at all. Oh, and speaking of wands, please return mine, Draco." When Draco made no move to hand her wand back, she pouted. "Aw Draco, don't be like that. I'll help you in another way, I promise, but give me back my wand."
"You'll help me? You'll go against the Dark Lord and your father?"
"The Dark Lord's not here right now. The only people here are injured Death Eaters and myself, and by tomorrow, I'm leaving with Mother to Italy. As much as I agree that some people deserve what's coming to them, I'd rather not be here when everything blows to shit in our faces." Pansy's smile grew bigger when a familiar sardonic grin appeared on Draco's face. "Ha! Now you look like the Draco I remember." Her smile turned sweet and she tilted her head to the side. "Want to come with me? I think you took enough of the aforementioned shit." She glanced at the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. "It's only going to get worse from here. I'll let you come with me and we'll wait out this war together. Just give me back my wand."
Draco didn't trust her. Despite their history, he couldn't bring himself to believe her good intentions. Perhaps Pansy noticed his suspicions for she gave a great sigh. "Fine. I can't even be angry with you for being this way since I have no idea what you've been through in the last couple of months. How about a trade then? I'll help you leave the manor, and you'll give me back my wand."
"I can leave the manor fine on my own, Pansy," Draco said, somewhat annoyed.
"Without even a shirt? Poke your head upstairs, Draco, and you'll surely get caught. The Death Eaters may be injured, but they're bored too. Fall's coming soon, so you'll need a cloak. New trousers, definitely. Food? Flint and steel?"
"I'll also need a wand."
"Can't help you there. I don't know where prisoners' wands are kept."
"Your wand doesn't seem to mind my wielding it."
"I'll call the Death Eaters. I will."
"You're not afraid of what I'll do to you if you call them?"
"You wouldn't hurt me." Pansy sounded confident, but a faint wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.
Draco idly twirled the wand on his fingers, "I learned some of the most interesting spells during my, ah, confinement."
Now, Pansy seemed annoyed herself. "Draco, I'm giving you a chance of leaving this place prepared." Her tone changed to almost pleading. "If you leave with my wand, they'll kill me. My father's upstairs right now. When I come back with no wand, and a few days later they realize you had escaped, what do you think will happen to me? My father can't hide shit from the Dark Lord," she said bitterly.
The wand in Draco's hand stopped mid-spin. She was correct. The last thing he wanted was to bring the Dark Lord's attention to an old friend. Painfully, the memory of the night he had unleashed Death Eaters and werewolves into Hogwarts replayed itself in his mind. His stomach flipped nauseously and his mouth had suddenly gone dry. Without giving his overactive brain another moment to think, Draco held out the wand. Pansy hesitantly reached out and grabbed it, as if she suspected a trick.
With the wand back in her hands, Pansy smiled in relief. "We shouldn't waste anymore time. My father's still expecting his tea. Can you believe it, Draco? I'm fetching tea. Me. Like some damned house elf." Seeing a dangerous flash in the gray eyes, Pansy hurriedly changed the subject. "Is there someone else back there? I swear I heard crying."
With a glance down the hallway, Draco muttered, "Yes." Hesitantly, he took a step closer to the girl he had left in the darkness. When Pansy moved to follow him, Draco found the energy, or perhaps the courage, to continue on. Pansy's wand was still alight and when they approached the stone pillar where Draco had deposited the muggle, they found her huddled tightly against the wall, looking up at their approach with wide frightened eyes. Tears stains ran down each cheek.
When she registered that it was Draco who came forward, she immediately hopped up and shuffled to him, reaching out a small hand to grasp the side of his pants. The two teenagers glanced at each other, eyebrows raised with mutual amusement. In that instant, Draco was struck with such a strong blow of nostalgia that the corners of his mouth tilted up in the first genuine smile in weeks. Countless times, Pansy and he had shared that look at the expense of the fools scrambling clumsily around in Hogwarts. His heart ached when he thought of Blaise, Vince, and Greg. Never in all his life did he think he would actually miss them, and yet…
"She's a muggle?" Pansy's voice brought Draco out of his thoughts. Really, Draco thought, exasperated with himself. I've been spending too much time in my head lately. When he nodded, she giggled. "Oh, the situations you get yourself into, Draco," she sighed. She tugged his right arm. "C'mon. Wait near the stairs and I'll pop up and get you a change of clothes."
"Wait," Draco removed himself from her grasp as inoffensively as he could. "You're sure you haven't seen my mother anywhere?"
Pansy shook her head. "She's not upstairs. I should know; Yesterday, I was bored out of my mind, so I did some exploring. She could be in the dungeons?" Her voice was small and timid when she asked the question, unsure of how Draco would react to it. To her relief, he simply nodded.
Without another word, the trio turned and headed back to the foyer. Once they reached the stairs, Pansy turned to Draco. "Stay here." Draco watched her as she ran up the steps and disappeared. He was slightly confused about Pansy's eagerness to help him. With a curl of his lips, he recalled Nott and his "love" for him.
The little girl had yet to let him go. She tugged gently on his pants. "I don't like the dark," she whispered.
Now that Draco knew the only Death Eaters in the manor were in the upper story, he felt somewhat foolish for the way he had acted earlier. However, he did not allow himself to feel regret for long. Muggles didn't deserve that from him. Draco remained silent, eyes stuck to the spot where Pansy would reappear, impatient.
They didn't have to wait long before Pansy bounded down the stairs again, holding a bundle of clothing and a traveling bag in her arms. When Draco reached out to take them, Pansy held it just out of his reach. "Not yet!" she grinned playfully. She raised her wand, and before Draco could move, she hit him with a spell.
Draco's eyes saw nothing but bright orange. When the light faded away, he stared dumbly at the witch, who was currently smiling mischievously. "What did you do?" Draco asked slowly, dangerously.
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, calm down, Dray. It's a spell I use every time I go camping. A modified cleaning charm. That's it, I swear. It'll keep you fresh and clean for a little over a month. It does nothing for your mouth though, so I packed you a few toothbrushes!" She held up the traveling bag.
"Pansy, I'm escaping the Dark Lord," Draco said, the words bringing a thrill inside him. "Not going on a camping trip."
She waved his comment aside. "You should still be comfortable while you're at it." She reached out as if to touch him but thought better of it. "They hurt you a lot, didn't they? I know you're trying to hide it, but I can still see it. Your hands are trembling. You're paler and thinner than normal. I wasn't aware you had any weight left in you to lose."
"Why are you doing this?" Draco couldn't leave the question unasked in his mind.
Pansy stared at him for a few seconds. "You shouldn't even have to ask that," she mumbled. Abruptly, she thrust her burden toward Draco. "I'll return to my father now and tell him I botched up the tea. It's believable enough. After, I'll hang around and distract anyone who looks to be heading downstairs. Then, after that, I think I'm going to soak in a nice hot bath for an hour. That punch you gave me hurts. If it weren't for my brilliant acting skills, I'd be hanging on to your arm weeping in pain." Her words had no bite to them, but she did seem a little angry.
Draco gave her another smile, and she brightened up immediately. "Sorry again." When she nodded, Draco turned towards the corridor leading to the kitchens. "I'll be going then. Thank you."
"Goodbye, Dray."
Draco didn't look back as he entered the corridor. The little girl's hand still grasped his pants, but he paid it no thought. His mind was already focused on something else. Please be there, he thought. The three words repeated themselves again and again in his mind. His heart quickened anxiously and he gripped the bundle of clothes tighter.
Once they reached the familiar kitchen door, Draco forced himself to relax. Although it seemed like the first floor held no Death Eaters, it was better to be safe. "Wait here," he murmured to the girl. When her eyes widened once again in fear, Draco became annoyed. "I'll only be a minute."
He forced the girl's hand off his pants and then shifted the bundle under one arm. Using his free hand, he slowly opened the door. Crouching slightly, he slipped quietly in, sticking to the numerous spots of shadows within.
Behind him, the door automatically shut. Although still dim, the kitchen was relatively bright compared to the corridor. Draco's eyes swept the room. Seeing no one hiding behind corners and under tables, the tenseness that had stiffened his muscles relaxed. He walked toward a small wooden table holding stacks of steel bowls and plopped his bundle onto the surface.
Quickly, he put on the shirt Pansy had picked for him. The color was such a dark green that it was almost black, and the material was a coarse but fine fabric that could endure prolonged exposure to the outside elements. With a jolt, he realized he had worn it a few times when he went riding. After his trembling but deft fingers fitted all the black buttons into their slots, he exchanged his blood encrusted trousers for the clean pair that Pansy provided with relief. Now that he was fully dressed, Draco felt a lot better, almost ridiculously so. He reached for the traveling bag and peeked in. He could make out a couple toothbrushes, a brush, and a hand mirror among a few other things he couldn't discern. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he quickly stuffed the bloody trousers into the bag and went back to the door to retrieve the girl.
When the girl saw him in new clothes, she laughed delightedly and brought her hands together. "Pretty!" she exclaimed.
Draco frowned, but decided to pretend she hadn't said that. "Let's go," he said.
The girl followed him as he made his way through the kitchen, heading toward the nondescript corner where the entrance to the cellar awaited. Throwing caution out to the wind, Draco opened the door and hurried down the stairs and across the cellar. With difficulty, he stifled both his pain and the memories that threatened to bubble up in his mind and render him useless. He allowed his eyes to look only at the steel door to the dungeons.
Almost gratefully, Draco grabbed the cold handle and turned, pulling the heavy door open. At once, a waft of air smelling of human waste had him gagging. He barely managed to keep the contents in his stomach as he – Merlin kill him now – made his way down yet another flight of stairs. The girl follow behind him, her fingers squeezing her nose shut.
The Malfoy Manor dungeon was a nightmare in and of itself. Lit with ever burning torches spaced generously apart, the place offered a dozen cells, which were closed off with thick steel bars. Smooth stone walls separated each cell; however, there were areas where the walls were crumbled: devastation caused by enthusiastic torturers. The smell of human waste, vomit, rotting meat, blood, and despair settled like a blanket throughout the area, threatening to suffocate those who no longer carried the will to live.
Draco picked his way through the dungeon, taking care not to step on anything suspicious. The smell fuddled with his mind, and he struggled to keep focused. He peered through the bars of each cell, searching desperately for a pale blonde head.
Each cell he passed was empty. No suffering body, no pathetic moans, and no pleas of mercy greeted him as he made his way deeper into the dungeon. However, Draco's sensitive ears picked up shuffling sounds at the very end, in the last cell. Not wanting to get his hopes up, Draco took a deep breath despite the stench to calm his fluttering heart. Bracing himself, he stepped forward to stare straight into the eyes of…
"Weasley," Draco said. The shock hit him a strange way, making his voice come out dull and emotionless. The blue eyes he stared into widened almost comically. More shuffling shapes in the cell caught Draco's eyes. "Weasleys," he amended when he counted three more heads with flaming red hair.
Draco stood frozen, shock etched clearly on his face, as four pairs of blue eyes stared back at him.