Disclaimer: Nada es mine.
Authors note: Hah! I'm giddy because I just wrote the first hints of slash. IT IS WRITTEN (in the stars?). Anyways. Enjoy! This is a short, cliff hanger-ish one, but hopefully you lot will enjoy it. No list, since I only mention 2 of them, and if you can't work out who it is, then beg, and a list I shall post. Excellent. Read on!
Draco eased the frail man out of the body length chains. The old man was unconscious, covered in blood, his left, withered hand at an unnatural angle, angry and swollen. Draco muttered a curse, under his breath, trying to get a hold on the old man, but Draco was no longer the sleek, well fed prince he had been, and he was worried about breaking this paper-thin man.
It was also terrifying; such power could be so worn down, so bedraggled. Draco eased the mans right arm over his shoulder, holding him gingerly by the ribcage, dragging the old man, ignoring the whimpers and intakes of pain.
Where the hell was Potter, Draco's thoughts were annoyed, he shouldn't have come here, have done this just because Tartarus's old boyfriend had needed a little help, the most he could do was show up on time, the bastard.
And it wasn't long before someone would notice all the intrusions and send some kind of something. Draco was aware his slightly panicked thoughts made little sense, but as he dragged the old man along, up the stairs, he could feel panic building. There was no way that he could get this guy out of here by himself, and he would never admit it, but every time he killed someone it made him want to throw up, and made him hate himself a little more, afterwards.
Draco managed to get the man along the corridor, searching in vain for an exit, a window, anything. He came upon a small window, finally, drew his wand, and muttered, "Bombarda!"
The wall exploded, and the whole building shuddered, bits of muggle structure flying. Draco hoisted the old man up, dragging him over the rough edges of the blast hole in the wall. He kept them to the shadows, doing his best to ignore the shouting in the distance.
He raised his wand as a figure barreled towards him, but before he could fire off a curse, he recognized one of his own. Tartarus, her eyes bright, pale hands raised in silent surrender. Behind her, Potter, and his two lackeys. Potter opened his mouth, to shout, or speak, or something, but Tartarus clamped her hand over his mouth, and shook her head, holding her other finger up to her mouth.
The shouting grew closer, and Draco moved, transferring the old mans crumpled body to Weasley's arms and then turned to Tartarus. He raised his hand, making the signal for home, then pointing to his own ring. He drew his dagger, and though Potter tried to lunge forwards, one look from Tartarus, and he stopped, obviously stumped. Tartarus reached out, firmly grabbing her brother, and Potter, and Granger, quick as ever, grabbed Potters arm. Draco raised his bleeding hand over hers, letting it drip onto the ring, and they disappeared.
Draco turned, and leaped, shifting into his animagus, and the body felt like homecoming. He threw back his head and let out his loudest hyena cackle, signaling the other teams to apparate back. He turned towards what his ears picked up as a human, medium sized, male, moving behind him. His eyes narrowed, adjusting to the varying lights, and for a moment, he made out Pan's figure before a snap of apparition had him turn, and in a flash of light, and a high cackle that was not his own, his world went dark.