A/N: Thanks everyone for all the reviews, follows and favourites on last chapter.
Note that no disrespect was meant on Italians. This is a work of fiction and the characters are imaginary.
For adult words this chapter is rated: M
Disclaimer: The copyright to Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Any other characters are purely work of fiction and any resemblances are co-incidental.
Chapter 73: Draco Demented.
In his life of twenty four years and five monthes Draco has come across many perilous situations but none were as full of imminent risks as it had been tonight.
Cold to his bones he wrapped the blanket tightly around him and curled himself into a ball trying hard to retain as much heat as possible. Beside him Dominique let out a sad sigh.
"Here, son, take this hot chocolate." a kind voice said while a hot beverage with wonderful aroma was shoved under his delicate nostrils, "It'll help." The elderly woman who offered it was as concerned as her son, Dominique.
But Draco ignored it. He was too cold and weak to talk. His teethes were chattering and he felt as if his insides had turned into ice.
"Wh…ere…is…the…loc…ket?" he asked with difficulty, "Gi…ve…it…he..re." even his voice was hoarse and sounded foreign to his own ears.
"You should've listened to me, Draco. You shouldn't have gone out there alone like that. It was so foolish." Dominique's voice was both worried and reproachful. "What if you had died?"
Draco ignored him again and buried himself in the blanket.
"Locket?" he insisted this time and opened his eyes. Dominique and his mother, Madame Tricaud's, anxious faces swam into view, "Locket… Domi…nique… give me… that locket." He demanded fervently.
"I am not giving you anything unless you finish that Hot Chocolate and chocolate pie first." Dominique was even more stubborn than he.
"You…can't…black…mail…me…" Draco clenched his teeth to stop the loud chattering, "I am…a Malfoy."
"As if I give that a damn." Dominique snapped and removed Draco's blanket without warning before forcing him to sit up on the bed. He next thrust the mug of Hot Chocolate on his shaking hands and brought the rim to his trembling and dry lips.
"Drink, Draco." he offered him kindly, "I don't want Jean to become a widow so soon. You two still have a son to bring up."
Draco didn't protest anymore. Hermione and Adrian's names were enough to make him cross a bridge on fire.
He finished his drink silently. Hot Chocolate has never tasted so good. It filled him with a strange hope and happiness. Next he finished a large piece of Chocolate pie under Madame Tricaud's watchful eyes. He relished every bite of it. Dominique's mother was a superb cook.
"Good." Dominique commented when Draco shoved the last bite of the pie into his mouth, "Maman, can you please be kind and make some this pie for the breakfast. I think this man hasn't eaten for days."
Madame Tricaud nodded and smiled. Draco noticed that his peer-come-friend had his mother's eyes and they lit up whenever she smiled kindly. She was wearing a polka dot blue dress underneath a large white apron and appeared like any middle-class house wife. But there was something in that smile of hers that Draco realized she was richer than many in terms of love, compassion and kindness. She collected the now empty mug and plate and left the room with a nod.
"My locket, Dominique." He demanded again, holding open his palm. After the all-chocolate meal his voice was back and better.
Silently, his friend took out a round object on a long chain from inside his coat pocket. He held it before his eyes for a fraction of second before placing it on Draco's flat palm.
As soon as the cold metal touched his skin Draco felt a sense of pride, joy and accomplishment erupt inside his battered heart. He looked down at the locket in awe and wondered how such a tiny object could be so important to him that he risked his tainted soul for it.
He wrapped his fingers around it and held it tight. Inside his palm finally laid Hermione's locket – her mother's last keepsake.
"Go to sleep, Draco." Dominique nudged him gently, "Don't worry. I'll not leave you alone."
Draco snorted loudly and slipped inside his blanket, "I am not a little boy crying for him mommy, Dominique. You can go to bed. I'll be fine." He said dismissively.
Dominique gave an infuriating smirk and shook his head as if he hasn't heard a better joke. He settled down on the lone couch next to Draco's bed and Summoned a book from the shelf.
"Good night, mommy's little boy." He bade and disappeared behind the book.
Under the warmth of blanket and chocolate, Draco's eyes soon became heavy with sleep.
But his grip on Hermione's locket never slackened as he drifted into a wonderful dream.
Earlier that day:
Back from Italy, Draco spent a very busy Friday.
It started with him returning to Château with Lillian who was in a considerably better mood.
He took a hot shower and dressed himself for the day, making a mental note to avoid Hermione and Adrian at all costs. He knew she was not going to take his abrupt shouting lying down and there was high probability that Adrian would berate him for it and forbid his mother to meet him. Not wanting to face another unpleasant situation he decided to apologize to Hermione first and then present his son with the Italian chocolate truffles he had brought for him.
He has also bought for Hermione a 'Cornicello', a horn shaped little locket which was worn around the neck as an amulet to protect one against the evil eye and with immense difficulty he restrained himself to pass it to her through Audré. He knew Hermione wasn't ready to accept anything from him and probably would wear it around her ankle instead of her neck only to vex him intentionally.
He took breakfast separately in his suite and was almost done with it when his aunt visited him. She was unusually calm and sober and Draco sensed danger in it.
"I hope your trip had been pleasant." She said, settling before him, "What did the Durant's say?"
"There is no way they could say 'no' to that farm house." Draco sipped his coffer with a smirk of satisfaction, "It's a heaven compared to that broom cupboard I am receiving in exchange."
"Why sacrifice Draco when you resent it so much?" Audré said evenly, "Should I remind you that you are looking for Jean's dream home, not yours as a Malfoy. Besides, I was informed a few days ago that you shouted at her. At this rate one might take you as delusional."
Draco knew that his foolishness was bound to reach Audré's ears.
"I didn't scream at her, aunt I screamed at the voice inside my head." he said solemnly, "It was telling me to molest her again."
"That makes you sound like a Muggle schizophrenic patient with recurrent bouts of hallucination." Audré was impassive, "However, the damage has been taken care of. I told Jean that you were very stressed that day after what happened in the courtroom and wasn't feeling well for which I have sent you Italy. She accepted my explanation very reluctantly though I don't think she will forget it all too soon."
Draco let out a sigh of relief. His aunt was an amazing person indeed.
"What about Adrian?" he asked her next, "Is he still mad at me?"
Audré shook her head, "You should be thankful, Draco, that your young son still doesn't know the swear words and didn't understand what you meant by 'bastard'. He told me that you were very creepy when you suddenly screamed and left the kitchen and I took the liberty to tell him that being creepy is your second nature as a Malfoy."
Draco didn't mind the subtle jibe. He was glad that she has kept the situation under control.
"You are a savior, aunt." he thanked her and finished his coffee, "Bless the day uncle made you a Malfoy."
"I pray that you don't resent it all too soon." Audré smirked mysteriously before leaving.
Back in his office, Draco spent half of it in checking his Polyjuice Potion and the other by visiting the Wizarding Estate Office, asking them to contact the Italian Ministry of Magic for a House swap between Meadowmoor Cottage in Paris and Podere Cipressi in Tuscany. The grumpy wizard gave him a curious look before mumbling that his request would be processed with utmost importance.
"Why are you staring at me?" Draco almost barked at him, when the wizard wouldn't stop ogling at him, "Are you not familiar with the concept of house swap?"
"I am." The wizard replied casting a side glance on the newspaper and Draco noticed it had a big heading with his name:
Draco Malfoy: the story of a defected Death Eater
Underneath was a photo of him holding a Death Eater mask. Considering the fact that he had never been an active member of that group, he felt mildly curious to learn what was inside but noticing the man was still staring at him as if he has grown three heads, Draco conjured his most arrogant and proud sneer before stalking off with a warning that his plea must be taken care of before coming Monday.
He faced the same situation throughout the day. His colleagues kept giving him curious glances and whispering whenever he passed by. The witch at the reception actually asked him if the article was true and deciding to maintain the cloud of enigma around him, Draco simply shrugged. He couldn't deny that Malfoys always enjoyed attention and any publicity was good publicity for them.
But he wasn't altogether lucky in Sorbonne. In his Friday lecture of Criminal Law, Draco received the lowest grade of his life. His Professor Olivier Metzner awarded him with a big ornate 'D'.
Draco stared at his essay, fuming inside for the unfairness of it all. He knew Metzner would take revenge but there were other mature ways of it.
"I think you should practice that 'D' to write your strangely unusual name, Draco." Dominique supplied nonchalantly from his seat beside him, "It will make it look more elegant."
Draco crumpled the piece of parchment and made a tight ball before throwing it out of the window. He wasn't going to give Metzner a damn.
"Careful." Dominique looked around and commented, "You are being watched." He indicated Metzner's sharp eyes that were fixed on them.
"As if I care." Draco scoffed and went back on taking down his notes.
The rest of the lecture was uneventful. Metzner it seemed wasn't very keen to draw attention to Draco than he was already receiving through newspapers and except for a few hawk like glances, he didn't give Draco much regard.
"Are you still planning to visit the Caesar's?" his peer asked him once Metzner wrote down the topic of the next essay (outline the importance of avoiding useless and lengthy conversation during a hearing) at the end of the class.
"I am." Draco replied curtly, frowning at the topic of his next essay, "Reckon he hasn't gotten over the shock of being slammed down by aunt Audré?"
"Reckon so." Dominique commented, "But Draco it isn't a place for naïves like us. Only professional gamblers go there."
"I don't recall Clopin was a professional gambler." Draco supplied, fixing the clasp of his bag and leaving the amphitheatre classroom, "I am not backing off. Malfoys never back off."
"Speaking of which reminded me that your classmates are very keen to know if you really are a Death Eater." Dominique said airily with a pointed glance at Draco's right forearm.
"Will it make it difference?" Draco asked, walking through the corridor where the crowd automatically parted to give them way, "I am already a rapist."
"Nice confession." Dominique said and walking side by side they reached the willow tree that Draco liked to sit under.
"Been a while since we last sat here together." He remarked and leaned against the thick trunk, "So what happened while I was in Italy?"
Dominique shrugged, "Nothing special. Just a couple of lecture classes and homeworks. I hope you don't receive another 'D' on your next one, Draco. Because if that happens, it'll lower your grades and the college authority may consider stopping your stipend."
Draco considered his words. True that at the beginning he was reluctant to take stipends from his college but now it seemed like an issue of prestige rather than money and he wasn't going to comprise with that. Malfoys never compromised with their prestiges.
"Finish all your works and wait for me this evening." He said, making up his mind to report the Principal should his grades suffered again in Metzner's hands, "We'll be kicking some really hard asses." He declared.
"Or maybe get our ones kicked." Dominique grimaced darkly.
Draco never imagined that his peer's word would become true and he was walking inside a trap that night. He returned to his office and researched for a while on Horn of Bicorn and its property to lengthen the duration of Polyjuice Potion's action before his cousin barged in.
"Heard that a certain defected Death Eater is back." He commented airily before slumping on a chair opposite Draco, "Thought I should pay a visit before incurring his wrath."
"That certain ex-Death Eater is trembling now thinking what his five and half year old son might do when he discovers that his father was involved in such gruesome acts." Draco retorted thoughtfully, "I am going to kill that bloody reporter if he dares to mention Hermione or Adrian in it."
"Pity." Julian remarked sadly though it was not clear for whom, "But rest assured, Draco, that the article has been taken care of. The Minister of Magic himself said that the Chief Curse Breaker of Gringotts shouldn't be involved in this for safety purposes and there exists no newspaper on this land that will disobey his direct orders. I say that's the upside of being a celebrity's husband, Draco. Jean's name is enough to command her that authority and respect from anyone who knows who she is."
Draco's lips twisted into a proud smirk.
"So how was the week?" he asked his cousin, curious to know what happened after he left, "Any progress?"
"Many." Julian replied, "I guess you don't know the biggest news of all. Metzner appealed that his client should be granted a leave from the court on the grounds that he is ill. You know what happened? The Wizengamot accepted it. Now he has been shifted to St. Louis Hospital for Magical Maladies and he won't be present at the court from next hearings."
"And aunt? What about her? She didn't stop him?" Draco was astonished at the piece of information.
Julian shook his head. "No. It's hard to know what's going inside her head, Draco but if she hasn't stopped Metzner than there must be a reason behind it." He said thoughtfully, "Anyways, I am in my office if you need me for anything." he stood up to leave.
"Julian." Draco was suddenly struck by an idea, "What do you know about the Caesar's?"
Julian was almost at the door when he slowly turned around, "What do you know about the Caesar's?" he frowned deeply.
"I asked it first." Draco pointed out.
"I am older than you." Julian retorted.
"Are you afraid to discuss it?" Draco demanded.
"This petty mind games won't work with me, Draco, I am beyond it." Julian replied, "But if you insist so much, all I can tell you is that stay away from them and don't mess with the Caesar's."
"Why?" it was Draco's turn to frown now, "They don't appear more than a bunch of bottom feeding lowly scoundrel to me."
"The bottom feeding lowly scoundrels…" Julian took care to emphasize each word, "…aren't alone. Three prominent Italian pureblood families are behind their gambling business. They are their Godfathers."
"How much prominent?" Draco was always uncomfortable with the notion that anyone could be better than the Malfoys.
"They keep half the Ministry in their pockets." Julian replied curtly and left.
"Interesting." Draco commented. With one remark his curiosity regarding the casino has increased manifolds and he decided to ask Lucca Caesar about it.
Armed with his new determination, Draco left his office at around seven o'clock and started directly for Ruelle Les Halles. The Ministry was quite deserted except for him and his colleagues who were busy with their works. Draco passed Julian's office and halted his steps wondering if he should ask him to escort him to the gambling house but discarded the idea. It was his war and he was going to fight it alone.
When he appeared in Les Halles ten minutes later through the portal in Muggle ATM booth, the crowd on the main alley was already getting thin. He wondered if he should go to Dominique's shop or go to the casino alone when a familiar voice tsk'ed in annoyance.
"Been waiting for half an hour now, Malfoy. Did you forget that we had an appointment to kick some asses?"
It was Dominique and he was leaning against one of the shop's wall by the main alley, scrutinizing the entrance to the Les Halles for any signs of Draco.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Or get our ones kicked." He reminded him tersely, "It's only seven o'clock, Dominique, and unless you have been Obliviated while I was gone the casino doesn't open until nine."
Dominique threw his hands in the air, "And unless you have been Stupefied while you were gone, Draco, anyone in his right minds would visit a place that they plan to break in so that they know what they are dealing with."
Draco didn't comment on it. Dominique has got a point.
The dingy and dirty alleys leading to the Caesar's were almost deserted except for a few women whom Draco strongly suspected as Hags. Cats were feeding on the litters and he sneezed once at their sight. When they reached the foreboding structure it looked even more threatening and unnaturally silent. Draco's hair stood on their ends. He felt as if he was standing before Azkaban.
The half-troll guards were flexing their knuckles menacingly and somehow it reminded Draco of Crabbe and Goyle. He walked past them with his head held high though internally with each step he took his determination was cracking slowly. He wondered why he was feeling so helpless suddenly and looked at Dominique for an answer.
"Dunno why I am feeling like this." he shook his head, visibly clueless, "It wasn't like this during my last time here."
Draco nodded in agreement. His last time here on Monday had been different. He walked around the circular gallery with dome, its walls still displaying boldly an ocean of possessions that it had won over years from the unsuspecting gamblers. To Draco's surprise, he saw Hermione's locket hanging directly under the Latin writing that meant 'no grass grows in the gardens against the power of death'.
"Lucca is expecting us." He showed it to Dominique as his insides twisted uncomfortably at the thought, "He knew we would come."
"You are right Monsieur." came the very man's voice. It was clear that the man was observing them from his secret hideout and even though Draco had been expecting it, his mouth filled with a bitter taste.
"I am in no mood to climb all those stairs." he shot back as boldly as he could, his voice echoing around the round gallery, "Come down at once, Lucca Caesar." He demanded arrogantly
"If I were you, Monsieur, I'd be careful to use that tone with me." Lucca let out an infuriating laugh, "Nonetheless I care for my guests. Take the elevator on your left. It's hidden behind the tapestry of the Fair Maiden and the Unicorns past that staircase."
Draco tried to appear impassive and followed Lucca's advice. They left the hall and walked into an adjacent one, this one a small lobby with a lone tapestry that rippled elegantly. Remembering his father's advice to touch nothing unless he was absolutely sure, Draco moved it aside with a flick of his wands.
The elevator was a very ordinary one, contrast to the general grandeur of the place. As Draco and Dominique climbed inside, it rattled as if its hinges would come off. The crisscross bars closed shut by themselves and it started ascending noisily.
Draco checked for the buttons with numbers of floors it was taking them above the ground but there was none. Dominique gave him an apprehensive glance and gripped his wand tightly.
"There is no way we can go down on ourselves." He said with a grave expression, "Looks like Lucca controls even the very air we are breathing in now."
Draco nodded absentmindedly, wondering if he had acted like a Gryffindor – foolishly brave. Self- preservation was the Slytherin rule number one and he seemed to have overlooked it this time.
The elevator kept climbing and after a steady ride of fifteen minutes it finally stopped. The crisscross bars sprang aside and Draco looked beyond.
It appeared like a large replica of the round hall they had left below except here the dome was placed on the centre of the floor. The walls had the same thick glass behind which mountainous piles of objects were displayed boldly. As Draco stepped out of the lift, he identified some of them: a painting depicting the birth of Venus, a weird headdress with most magnificent emeralds he has ever seen, a sword with the handle of a serpent's tail and last but not the least, Hermione's locket hanging directly under the Latin writing. He immediately noticed that the unnatural coldness of the floors below was absent here.
"Welcome to cupola, my personal office." Lucca declared graciously. He was dressed more ostentatiously this evening. The vest over the white shirt was flowery and the number of rings on his fingers seemed to have increased.
"So this is where you sit and spy." Draco peeped through the large glass dome and saw the empty gallery beneath, "The dome is actually a mirror."
"Considering the kind that I deal usually, Monsieur, it's a very necessary precaution." Lucca smirked and offered them seats, "Only thieves and plunderers wander here."
"And you pride yourselves on stolen goods." Draco commented nonchalantly, "Not all these that we see here could actually belong to those filthy gamblers." He indicated the emerald adorned headdress and the painting of Venus the goddess.
Lucca shrugged carelessly, "We are not responsible for what the gamblers choose to bring or bet on, Monsieur. We don't tell them to steal or rob. They come here on their own. Just like you did."
"I don't think that's the real reason." Draco was keen to make a grand impression before Lucca. The man was very subtly trying to outsmart him with his game of words. "I think it's due to those Godfathers you have. They save your skin. Don't they?"
"Godfather is a despicable term, Monsieur." Lucca shook his head disapprovingly, "They are our benefactors. They love the ancient Roman game of power and excitement and we provide them with it. Simple. Have you not heard of the Gladiators?"
Draco has. In fact it was the only Muggle game that fascinated him enough to visit the Colosseum during his trips to Italy. He tried to sport an indifferent face as if Muggle games and sports didn't interest him and scoffed.
"So how am I going to win my wife's locket?" he came straight to the business, "Should I sponsor any of those Muggle games?"
"Muggle games?" Lucca clutched over his heart as if highly offended, "Being a gladiator is an honour, Monsieur. Even Roman noblemen used to participate in it only to display their courage and skills."
Draco dismissed Lucca's statement with a wave of his hand. There was no way he would agree with him on anything tonight. "Come to the point, Lucca. Tell me what I have to do." He asked impatiently.
"Very simple." Lucca was smirking mysteriously now, "Win it back."
"Don't beat the bushes with me." Draco snapped, "Explain."
Lucca nodded, his lips still sporting that enigmatic smirk, "There is it." he drew Draco's attention to Hermione's locket beneath the writing, "No grass grows in the gardens against the power of death."
"I have to die?" Draco asked as indifferently as he could.
"Oh no!" Lucca was clearly enjoying playing with Draco now. "I know the writing does mean that 'there is no medicine for death' but it also means 'the grasses grow against the mighty power of death'. It's a subtle challenge, Monsieur. It means if you are brave enough to face the death you'll come forward and claim your prize."
"But how?" Dominique asked this time, "My friend here has been asking that for ages and all you are doing is playing around with your deceitful words."
"Fear, Monsieur, is the prize of our instrument." Lucca remarked solemnly, "And no fear is greater than the fear of death. Conquer it and the prize is yours."
"Yes but how?" Draco spat, his patience wearing thin now.
Lucca joined his ring adorned fingers and rested his fat chin on it.
"Every Friday we arrange a special betting game here. We offer fifty galleons for one galleon and the gamblers, depending on their luck and predictability, choose sides. Those who bet that the game would be won receive fifty times their invested money when it is won and those who bet that the game would be lost also receive fifty times their invested money if their prediction comes true. It's all a game of luck. If the Lady bestows her lucky charm upon you, the side you take will win you a small fortune. If not, everything that you have invested will be ours." He motioned at the room in general, showing them the display.
"If you want that locket so badly, Monsieur, participate in that game of bet. Win against your opponent and earn your prize."
"You actually want me to play?" Draco didn't know how else to put it, "Before hundreds of filthy muggers?"
"Don't address them as such." Lucca said reproachfully, "They are your spectators and you are the gladiator here."
"But Gladiators were armed and skilled combatants." Draco forgot he had earlier shown disinterest in them.
"You'll be armed too, with your wand." Lucca shrugged, "And as a Malfoy who could be better skilled than you?"
"Draco, don't listen to him. He's lying and luring us into a trap." Dominique warned him warily, "Let's leave this place. He makes my skin crawl." He stood up and tugged his brooding companion.
But Draco didn't budge. Instead he removed Dominique's hand from his shoulder and indicated him to sit.
"What am I up against?" he solemnly asked Lucca who gave him a satisfied smirk.
"Considering the fact that you are an ex-Death Eater…" He waved the newspaper that Draco had seen earlier in the Ministry, "…they are your natural allies."
"We had many natural allies." Draco supplied arrogantly, "Name this one specifically."
Lucca shook his head, "No Monsieur, I am afraid I can't. That's also an interesting part of the game. You'll be allowed into the arena only under blindfold. You have to indentify and defeat your enemy to win your prize."
"While those muggers bet on Draco and shout for him? As if it's a common cockfight?" Dominique retorted angrily, "It's outrageous! Humiliating!"
"It's alright." Draco placed his hand on Dominique's shoulder and assured him, "I accept it."
"But Draco?"
"Dominique I am not leaving that locket here."
"What about your family? Your so called grand honour? Your wife? Son?"
"All will be won in due course. For now, let's win this one and wipe that infuriating smirk off that ugly face."
Dominique shook his head in defeat. "Draco, you don't know these people. They can do anything for money." He said in an urgent whisper.
"So can I." Draco reminded him, "No matter what you say, Dominique, I am not leaving." He declared flatly.
"Fine." Dominique spat furiously, "Don't tell me I didn't warn you."
"I won't." Draco assured him.
"If you, Messieurs, are done with your argument, can I go and make preparations for the game?" Lucca asked.
Draco shrugged. Dominique looked away sourly.
"Fine." Lucca left his seat and went for the elevator, "I'll be back sharp at nine thirty." He checked his enormous pocket watch and left.
How Draco spent the rest of the time waiting in Lucca's cupola he didn't know. For a while he tried to remember all the Dark creatures he had read on books and means to defeat them. Lucca had said his opponent would be his natural ally. He wondered what he meant by it and why should be fight his ally.
Dominique on the other hand kept pacing around the office and peeping occasionally through the large mirror dome.
"Looks like it's going to be a huge crowd." He commented thrice within a span of fifteen minutes and looked around helplessly, "Draco, there is still time. You don't have to do this. What use it will be to Jean if you are dead or left permanently disfigured? These types of games are for professionals who are adequately trained. It's not for you."
"Dominique, will you please let me think?" Draco tried to restrain him, "Please." He bade solemnly.
"Fine." Dominique spat and slumped on the leather couch he was occupying earlier.
When Lucca returned sharp at nine thirty, Draco was absentmindedly staring at the magical replica of Hermione's locket. The display seemed to mirror whatever was done to the original display floors beneath. Several times, a few items were moved to make room for more to be added. Watching them, Draco was sure they have been lost by the gamblers who came here to play for money but lost instead.
"You may come now, Messieurs." He ushered them solemnly and with a last glance at Hermione's locket, Draco followed suit.
Both he and Dominique were tightly grasping their wands as Lucca led them to the elevator. It seemed to know its destination for it didn't stop at the tapestry lobby and continued to descend steadily.
When it finally stopped and the crisscross bars sprang open with a loud clank Draco exhaled before stepping out.
He noticed that the dimly lit corridor with brackets of torches was as cold as it had been in the entrance or the round display hall. Their breathes froze in the air before them and Draco wondered if Novembers in France were supposed to be like this.
"It is very cold down here." Dominique wrapped his arms around himself, "French Novembers aren't like this."
"We are underground, Messieurs." Lucca told them, walking with long and purposeful strides, "It's supposed to be this cold."
They walked in silence for another ten minutes before they were brought to stand before a large and heavy oak door. Lucca turned to Draco and took out a piece of black silk.
"I'll blindfold you, Monsieur Malfoy, if you permit me and your friend here will check if I have done it properly." He said showing Draco the thin strip of silk, "If you feel it's uncomfortable or too tight, tell me and I'll adjust it according to your comfort." He informed him, "But remember, even if you trick me to bind it loosely and think that you'll be able to see through the gap, I am afraid that isn't going to happen. That issue has been taken care of."
Draco snorted. With the prospect of facing an unknown enemy only with his wands he couldn't care less about the blindfold. He was as blind with it as he was without it.
When he nodded, Lucca stepped closer and simply wrapped the black silk over Draco's eyes. He asked Dominique to check it and when he approved of it, he nudged Draco forward.
"You may go in now, Monsieur." he said solemnly.
On his words, Draco heard the large and heavy door moved with a loud friction against the cold stone floor. His heart was beating fast now and his resolve crumbling. He gripped his wand tightly and stepped forward.
His footsteps echoed as he entered the unseen place and to his sudden surprise, Draco discovered that he could actually sense everything around him even though he couldn't see them.
His auditory senses, that were more powerful since his second dose of Lupus Venom, told him that it was a large round room with high stone walls. Whispers with barely hidden excitements were echoing on the wall, making an acoustic effect and Draco estimated from it that the arena he was standing on was a thirty by thirty feet room with a perimeter of high seats for audiences. For some inexplicable reason everyone was silent and waiting apprehensively.
Draco gulped and relied on his senses to save his skin. They were his only hope in this battle against the unseen enemy.
He waited patiently, not moving a muscle to listen as closely as possible but nothing happened. Just when he was wondering if Lucca has made a prank of him, it came.
As if the air has been sucked out of its remaining life, it suddenly died and froze. Draco's hairs stood on their ends and a shiver ran down his over-taut spine. He felt the cold penetrated his skin, muscles and even bones.
He heard a series of rattling breathes around him and a rotting smell came to his nose. Even without seeing them Draco realized what his unseen enemies were.
Voldemort had been right when he said, "Dementor would join us too. They are our natural allies."
Draco the Death Eater has been presented with Dementor in exchange of Hermione's locket.
Shaking from head to foot and paralyzed with fear, Draco squeezed shut his already closed eyes and concentrated on his happiest memories.
He was holding his newborn in his arms and the little boy let out a feeble cry. Even for a three hour old infant, his son showed marked resemblance to his father. His eyes were grey and hairs silvery blonde. Beside him sat Astoria, glowing in the glory of her first motherhood.
"Isn't he just beautiful?" she asked, doting on their son.
"He is the most beautiful of all." Draco agreed and kissed his little Scorpius.
"Expecto Patronum!" he bellowed and waved his wand.
Even on his blindfolded state Draco could feel that the Patronus he produced wasn't powerful enough to repel the Dementors. He was sure now they were plural in number for the air was so cold that he couldn't even breathe properly.
He heard a faint wisping sound issuing from the tip of his wand that meant his feeble Patronus had burnt out. Trying not to panic he concentrated again.
Draco was standing on a Hall full of children. They were chatting animatedly and looking for a place to sit and draw but it wasn't them that Draco waited for so impatiently.
It was Adrian. He was the sole reason he has arranged the Drawing Competition in a foreign city as Brussels.
Draco felt the coldness and the rattling breathes slowly form a tight circle around him. He could feel their despair slowly poisoning his mind while sucking out all his happy memories and positive energy.
'No Draco, you can't let them suck your soul.' He reminded himself defiantly and concentrated on the earlier memory.
Adrian walked in. he was wearing a white shirt and a little red necktie with black coat and trousers. He looked around, spotted a corner and moved silently to it.
Draco heart erupted in happiness and thrill. The boy he has been looking for so desperately was finally there.
"Expecto Patronum!" Draco bellowed louder than before this time. He felt a powerful surge of energy leave the tip of his wand and immediately the Dementors fell back.
The air became warmer and Draco breathed in hungrily.
"Game over!" he heard Dominique's shout from his left and jerked at that direction, "Game over, Lucca, game over! He repelled those bloody Dementors. He won! Give him the locket and let him go now!"
"Oh no, Monsieur, the game ain't over!" Lucca's voice was full of malice and glee, "Not so soon. The bet is highest tonight. Hundred galleons to one. Look at those gamblers. They are wolfing on your friend's sight. I can't let game be over so soon."
"But that's unfair!" Dominique exclaimed furiously, "I'll report to the Ministry about it."
"Really?" Lucca sounded amused, "You seemed to have forgotten that we are Ministry approved."
"But the Dementors aren't approved by the Ministry! They are not an object of game!" Dominique shot back, "Draco is a Malfoy, Lucca, not a street fighter that you'll get away if anything happens to him. His cousin, Julian Malfoy, will skin you alive."
"Don't threat me, Monsieur. I know what I am doing." Lucca sounded enraged now, "I didn't ask him to come here and fight those Dementors. He came on his own. There is no question of calling off the game. It will continue."
By the time Draco was done listening to the heated conversation his Patronus has disappeared and he was cold to the bone again. The rattling breathes were back and seemed to have regrouped around him more densely. Blind, he felt them draw closer and suck out his remaining energy.
Draco concentrated hard.
He was helping Adrian pick some grapes and he gave him a kiss in return. 'Papa, I love you.' he said fondly.
"Expecto…" his voice cracked.
He was taking Adrian for a ride on his broom. He little boy tried to catch the Snitch and Draco simply flew to his freedom.
"Patronum…" he rasped when a skeletal hand gripped him tightly around the throat.
"DRACO! NO!" he heard a cry that must be Dominique's but he was too weak to fight or respond. Numerous stars appeared before his eyes and he felt the gut wrenching foul breath just over his mouth.
Every positive feeling, every happy memory, every ounce of goodness was sucked out of him and Draco wondered if this was going to be his end.
Here in the middle of an arena…away from his home…his mother…his Hermione and his Adrian…
Was this supposed to be his fate?
Was his soul going to be sucked and he'd be left with an empty shell of body?
'Forgive me, Hermione, I couldn't do it…I couldn't bring back your locket…I couldn't win it for you…please forgive me…' were the last words of his conscious mind before Draco passed out.
He was walking on a field full of rippling daisies, their white petals caressing his hands lightly. Before him a few meters away stood a woman in a flowing white wedding gown, her unruly brown curls gently hanging loose over her shoulders and back. Hermione's brown eyes were tender and tearful when Draco reached and dropped on his knees before her.
"Forgive me, Hermione, I couldn't do it…I couldn't give it back to you…" he said, taking the hem of her white dress and touching it to his lips, "Forgive me, I hurt you…forgive me that I couldn't stop myself that day…forgive me I brought this upon you and Adrian…forgive me Hermione….forgive me…forgive me and please let me die in peace!" he cried.
"No, Draco, no…don't cry…" the woman in white knelt before him and wiped his tears, "You will not die… I won't let you…"
"Don't try to stop me…I know I am done for…" Draco croaked, "…they are too many and I am…so weak and alone…just tell me…just tell me that you forgave me…tell me before they suck out my soul and I can never hear you…tell me, Hermione, tell me…"
Hermione's eyes filled with fresh tears and she embraced Draco tightly. In her arms Draco found an unknown warmth that redeemed him to his bones.
"I forgive, you Draco…I forgive you…don't die now…please…fight back, Draco …fight back…"
'Hermione has forgiven him!'
'Hermione has forgiven him!
'Oh, Hermione has forgiven him!'
Draco was so relieved that he thought his own ears were deceiving him.
'Hermione has forgiven him!'
'At last…'
Now he could die in peace…now he could…
But why should he die without a last fight?
Wasn't Hermione his passion…his solace…his ecstasy… and wasn't she telling him to live?
Draco embraced Hermione and plunged his left hand in her glorious curls. With the other, he gripped his wand and armed with the most powerful and happiest memory of his life he yelled:
'Hermione has forgiven him!'
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Draco was almost suffocated by the foul smelling rattling breath of the oncoming Dementors when a huge silvery shadow erupted from the end of his Hawthorn wand and blinded him even in his blindfolded state. It was so powerful that even behind the closed lids he sensed a dazzling shine and then the skeletal hand holding him slipped out and let go.
He collapsed on the stone floor with a loud thud and came back to his senses. His chest was still cold but his heart filled with such happiness that he didn't dare to move.
What if it left him?
He found a hand fumbling on his blindfold desperately trying to untie it.
"DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO STOP ME! I SWEAR I'LL BURN DOWN THIS PLACE TO ASHES IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO DRACO!" He heard Dominique scream, "GIVE ME THAT LOCKET YOU BLOODY BASTARD! GIVE ME THE LOCKET RIGHT NOW OR I'LL CAST A FIENDFYRE! I SWEAR IF I CAN'T LIVE NO ONE WILL LEAVE THIS ALIVE!"
The last thing Draco saw before he finally allowed himself to faint was Lucca's massive shadow handing down Dominique a locket around a chain.
"Hermione…" Draco whispered and everything went black.
•••••
Draco opened his eyes and felt a cold round object on his palm.
His peer was sleeping on the couch, his mouth half open. Behind him the morning was clear and cool. The blue of the sky was just the shade Hermione was so fond of.
Draco stared at it and for the first time ever appreciated the amazing feeling of being alive. It was strangely comforting.
It was almost eight when Madame Tricaud knocked and entered carrying a large tray. His son jumped awake and looked around distractedly before spotting his mother.
"Your breakfast, son." she laid down the tray before Draco who sat up and helped her lower it. For some unknown reason he felt that he liked the elderly woman even though she wasn't up to the usual standard of ladies or noblewomen he was accustomed to meet.
"Merci, Madame." Draco gave her very sincere thanks, "It looks wonderful." He commented appreciatively looking down at the tray.
Before him lay every type of chocolate dish imaginable: chocolate brownie, chocolate shortbread, chocolate mousse, chocolate and cream pie, chocolate pudding, chocolate sorbet and a big mug of steaming Hot Chocolate.
Draco has never been so hungry in his entire life and not waiting for any invitation from his host he wolfed them down. Madame Tricaud's wonderful dishes were all gone within a space of twenty minutes and Draco burped like a satisfied frog before taking up the mug of Hot Chocolate.
"Do you think the Dementors slipped sizeable amount of their hunger into you?" Dominique was watching him eat like a gorilla, "I mean you…wiped it all clean…" he looked dumbfounded at the gleaming plates.
"Dominique!" his mother warned him, "He is our guest."
"But he…" Dominique started again when Madame Tricaud stopped him with a quelling look.
Draco slipped Hermione's locket into the shirt pocket just over his left chest.
What could be more appropriate for something that was her heart?
Madame Tricaud seemed very satisfied when she left with the now empty tray. Dominique gave Draco a very sour look before throwing aside the book carelessly.
"I was hoping you'll keep some of her chocolate mousse for me." he snapped at Draco.
"Being a Malfoy, it's hard to be selfless." Draco scoffed and took a sip from his drink, "So that bastard Lucca wouldn't let go of the locket even when I won it? Right?"
Dominique nodded sourly, "I seriously considered burning him down. The bastard wouldn't let me conjure my Patronus when those blasted Dementor were going to suck your soul! It served him right when you trod down his pride and won that locket before a thousand spectators. He was so livid when he was defeated; his bloody casino's prestige has gone to dogs! But I don't understand one thing. You fell and for one horrible moment I thought the Dementor Kissed you. But then you conjured two Patronuses."
"Two Patronuses!" Draco almost choked on his chocolate drink, "Two Patronuses?"
"Yes." Dominique was perplexed as he confirmed, "One was a huge bird and the other was some kind of animal."
"My osprey. Hermione's otter." Draco murmured, "What happened after that?"
"The team of Patronuses fought the Dementors and they fled the arena so fast as if they had seen death." Dominique replied, "You collapsed and I put a Stinging Hex on Lucca before running to your side. I removed your blindfold and threatened to burn down the whole place unless they gave me that locket. You had fainted earlier so I brought you to my home."
Draco was still shocked to hear that he has produced two Patronuses when he was having difficulty in producing one in the beginning. He wondered if the dream was real and Hermione has forgiven him in actual sense but there was no way to be sure. Besides, she has already told him that he would never be forgiven.
"Nostradamus, Draco! I can't believe you almost got yourself killed for a locket!" He heard Dominique's reproachful cry, "If it was so important, you could have made a new one with same design for her."
"But that would be cheating." Draco said solemnly.
"I never thought I'd live to see a day when a bloody Slytherin will lecture me on cheating." Dominique retorted grumpily.
"I never thought I'd live too." Draco remarked.
Thinking of the previous night and his horrific experience with the Dementors, Draco was reminded of his third year. He spent most of it ridiculing his arch enemy Potter for fearing and fainting after the Dementors searched the Hogwarts Express for Sirius Black.
Now, almost elevan years after that incident, he realized how very wrong was he to do so.
"A bloody Slytherin isn't always supposed to a bloody Slytherin." He commented after a while, "I remember once ridiculing a boy for his fear of Dementors. He was thirteen then. If those creatures could scare the living soul out of me now, imagine what he must have gone through at that time."
"Are you still ill?" Dominique checked his temperature, "You don't struck to me like the kind who'd repent for his past mistakes."
"Really?" Draco arched an eyebrow, "I confessed before you what I did to Hermione." he reminded him.
"Confession and repentance aren't the same, Draco." Dominique countered, "Confession is the first step of it." he sighed, "But I am glad that you finally came to your senses."
Draco preferred not to comment. With Hermione's locket he was one step closer to his salvation now and he hoped she'd forgive him like she did in that dream.
"How are you going to give it to her?" he heard Dominique asked him after a while, "You can't just barge in and place it on her palm."
"I guess I can't." Draco heart broke to admit it. He would've loved to be the one to put it around Hermione's neck and see her smile, "But I know someone who can."
"Who?"
"That old drunkard's friend. What's his name again?"
"Yves."
"Yes. Old Yves."