The face behind the mask was grinning as it flew alongside Draco and Krum. They'd been hard on the hunt all night, he felt he could be forgiven for playing with them a little. The Malfoy brat and spoilt foreigner who flew with him.

Yes; he had a lot of pent up frustration with the Malfoys. It would be nice to throw some back at the little traitor. Their faces were pale. They look scared Dolohov thought gleefully to himself. So they should be. The Dark Lord would reward him well for bringing them in.

I want Draco alive. Kill any others who get in the way.

His master's words echoed though his head. Alive, he'd said. He hadn't said unharmed. Krum fired a quick curse at him, almost catching him off guard. He rolled over to the other side of them – it was so much easier without a broom. He could just flit out of the way of any feeble spells, continuing to toy like a cat with a mouse.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw another deatheater zoom past. It looked to be Rodolphus, from the mask. That made him smile all the more – another who would want darling Draco to suffer first.

Another spell aimed his way, the red of a stunner. He evaded it easily. A flash going the other way, towards Rodolphus. That too missed. Dolohov laughed, even in such close quarters they were pathetic. He moved a little closer and bellowed into the wind.

"Well well well, what have we here? A lost little Malfoy, how about we take you home to Daddy." In the darkness the whites of Draco's eyes clearly shone. When he mentioned Malfoy senior however the scared look in them vanished, to be replaced by defiance. He urged the broom quicker.

"I have a message for my father, and the Dark Lord for that matter. Fuck you." Krum's curse was fired quick, and caught his shoulder as he rolled away. He gritted his teeth in pain, feeling as if on fire.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say, Draco. Stupefy!" Rodolphus had taken his place. The spell was easily blocked – why couldn't the idiot use non-verbal incantations. He tried again and again, whilst Dolohov struggled to bring his pain under control.

Draco was trying to squeeze every last ounce of speed out of the broom. They were managing to get some lead on the injured deatheater, but the other kept to their tail. The flashes of light, both protective and offensive, were flying thick and fast. There was nothing Draco could do but try and get them out of there, after all, Dumbledore still had his wand. If Krum lost his, or was knocked out, they'd really have no hope.

On the bright side, at least Krum seemed to be cursing back as good as he got.

Wham! As Draco had tilted his head to see how Krum was doing a great weight collided with him. He toppled from the broom. Dolohov's hands were tight around the neck of his cloak, cutting of his air. He tried desperately to land a punch. They were spiralling round and round. Draco had no idea which way was up. He swung again, making contact with a flabby neck. There was a grunt of pain but the iron grip did not loosen.

He was starting to see spots in his vision. Wildly he swung again, this time colliding with shoulder. It was more than a grunt this time, all at once Dolohov's hands vanished. Draco was falling to the ground, dead weight without even a wand to save himself.

In the back of his mind he remembered the last quidditch match, when he'd fallen from his broom. It had been bright day light then, and he had been saved by Potter. Harry. He was too far away to be coming to any rescue now.

And only one thought swirled through his head as he plummeted. He should never have held back around Harry. He should have kissed him, and told him, and made as much of living when he could.

Another black blur hit him again, knocking the wind out of Draco. He could hear Krum's voice, calling to him. He tried to struggle again, throwing punches. He'd be damned if he was going to let them take him alive.

Draco knocked off the mask. He recognised Crabbe's large features, and with a sinking feeling realised they'd been joined by more deatheaters. Crabbe had him in a bear hug now, pinning his arms to his sides. He writhed but got nowhere. The fat face before him smirked. Anger bubbled in Draco. Without thinking he bit Crabbe's nose, as hard as he could. The smirk turned to an enraged grimace.

A blue jet of light collided with Crabbe's neck, burning across Draco's back as it went. Crabbe's eyes went wide in shock and pain as Draco finally slipped from his grip. Draco was falling again. He could see Krum on the broom, twenty, thirty feet above him. The seeker went in to a sharp dive.

Krum caught hold of him under the arms. Draco cried out from the pain in his back as he was manhandled back onto the broom.

"What the fuck was that curse?" Draco managed to gasp.

"Scalding vorter, I vas trying not to hit you." Krum did have the grace to look apologetic. He looked around, keen eyes scanning the skies. "Ve need to get out of here, there vill be more. Here." Krum handed Draco his wand, then with both hands on the broom leant low and took off. Draco had one arm wrapped tightly round Krum's waist and the wand gripped tightly in the other. He watched carefully for the tell-tale black blur.

Draco gritted his teeth. He'd been in far too much pain for one evening. The sun was slowly brightening the skies. That should make them easier to spot. The sneakoscope was still tucked safely in Draco's pocket, but he doubted he hear much above the wind before it was too late.

They flew on for another twenty minutes, by which time Draco was starting to think they'd lost them. The sun was visible on the eastern horizon and the sky was starting to lose its pink hue. There was a crack which echoed through the clouds. Over to the west, a Deatheater had appeared.

Draco gripped the wand a little firmer. The black robes billowed behind them as they zoomed closer. Closer.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light burst from the wand, finding its mark on the Deatheaters chest. The figure stopped heading for them and instead fell to the ground. It was that easy. Vitkor turned to him, an eyebrow raised. He didn't say anything, just looked back to the skies ahead.

Draco felt sick. He didn't even know which Deatheater it had been, he'd just fired. It could have been his aunt, or even his father.

By the time they reached 12 Grimmauld Place, Draco felt exhausted. The pain in his back had barely eased. He looked at the note Harry had written before seeing the dilapidated house materialise. He barely even bothered to appreciate it, just fought his way up the steps and inside. His legs were stiff.

Barely over the threshold he tripped over a hideous troll leg. They landed with a clatter and a shriek. Krum rushed to his side as the door at the end of the corridor swung open. An ugly little house elf rushed out, garbling and yelling almost as much as that infernal painting.

"Shut it you old hag!" Draco bellowed back. To his intense relief the painting actually shut up, as did the house elf.

"You're of black blood." He looked up at the painting, and recognised her. He groaned internally. Weakly, he nodded. Krum pulled him up. Together they stumbled to the door through which Kreacher had come. Draco collapsed on a chair, and remained there as Krum did his best to treat the blistered burn line. By the time he was done Draco was unconscious against the table.

.

.

Draco awoke with a groan. His neck and back were stiff, and his shoulder still tingled unpleasantly. Someone had managed to get a pillow under his head at some point, but other than that he'd been left to the discomfort of the table. A scrap of parchment lay next to him. He hesitated before picking it up.

Krum had kept it brief, explaining that he had to get back to the quidditch team before he was missed, and that he'd already sent a message to Harry that they'd made it more or less in one piece. When he set the note down he realised how silent the house actually was. It settled around him like a smothering veil.

Even the sound of the chair scraping as he stood was swallowed by the house.

His stomach growled angrily. Desolately he looked around the dingy kitchen and shuddered. It didn't look as if anything in there would be remotely healthy to eat would be found here.

"House elf?" His voice echoed. "House elf." He tried again, with more conviction. Still he remained alone. He kicked himself for not paying more attention to what the dratted creature was called. Fine. He'd just have to go and find it then.

Cautiously, he opened the door. The corridor was long and wide, ending in a large door with stained glass. There were three doors leading off it as well as a sprawling staircase. At the far end a set of heavy curtains hung. Draco remembered the shrieking lady from last night and made a mental note to give them as wide a berth as possible.

He decided to try the stairs first. He walked up the middle of them, eyes front. The decapitated house elves on the walls were giving him the creeps. The first floor landing was even dingier than the corridor below. It was lined only by doors, one of which was ajar. Draco decided that was as good a place as any to start looking.

The heavy door squeaked as he pushed it but it moved easily, into a surprisingly clean room. It was small, about the size of the largest bathroom back at the manor. One wall was dominated by a large bay window which looked out onto a grassy crescent. The other three walls were covered from floor to ceiling by tapestry.

Draco moved forward, curious. Carefully woven into the fabric were many names, spanning back centuries. It started in one corner by the window, then wound its way around the room. The weak winter sun shining through the windows was reflecting off the gold thread. He turned slowly, surveying the names as he went. As he turned to the final wall he stopped. Up in the topmost corner was fine gold script which read Draco Malfoy.

He traced back the lines to where the Malfoy's had first joined with the Blacks, seeing his mother there. Bellatrix's name was next to it. Suddenly Draco felt very sick. His knees turned weak and he hit the floor, remembering how Bella had look the last time he'd seen her. She had burst from the room of requirement with her dress and hair singed. And then… and then she had spoken with Voldemort's voice as she'd tried to kill them.

Draco's empty stomach heaved, leaving its little contents in a pile on the floor. He grabbed the door handle and pulled himself upright, bolting from the room.

He let the darkness of the landing engulf him as he tried to pull himself together. He'd been blocking that night out rather well until that point; he did not want to think about what had happened or what it meant. He thought he had more pressing things to worry about, like his mother, and what on earth was happening between him and Harry.

Draco looked down at his hand, ghostly white in the dark. It was still shaking. He clenched it into a fist. It was just the lack or food, a decent night's sleep and the events of last night catching up with him he tried to tell himself. If he didn't find that useless elf soon he was going to give up and raid the cupboards himself.

With the rest of the doors on this floor firmly shut, and Draco reluctant to find any more family ties, he continued up the stairs. The second landing at least had some light to it. It ran all the way to the front of the house, ending in another huge window. Positioned before it was a wing backed chair. It looked as though the pixies had been at it, the fabric long since faded. Several doors on this floor were open.

Sticking his head around the closest one, Draco found a bedroom. The bed was unmade and the wardrobe doors hung open. Other than that it was empty. The next room yielded very similar results. The third room hosted a pair of single beds, and an ugly stain on the wall where a picture once hung. There were owl droppings, Draco spotted, in the corner.

Draco left that room with a shiver. The whole place had the feel of being deserted in a hurry. He decided he just try the next floor before giving up. As he climbed a rancid smell met his nose. With a hand over his mouth too, he peered cautiously into the space. As far as he could tell the stink was coming from the attic room.

He continued on up. The door into the attic space was also open. Inside Draco found large piles of animal droppings, too large to have come from any normal animal. There were also little piles of bonds pushed into the corners and several long, grey feathers scattered across the floor. Set into the sloping ceiling was a huge round window, which looked like it could be used to allow a pretty big beast in.

Fighting the urge to gag, Draco left quickly. He pulled the door tightly shut behind him, wishing he had his wand so that he could lock the door properly. Just in case whatever had been living up there decided to return.

After the smell of rotting dung, Draco felt his appetite diminished. Still, he'd need to eat sooner or later and he'd had enough of hunting down the house elf. He descended back into the belly of the house.

As he neared the kitchen door he heard a bang, making him freeze. The noise was followed by some grumbling. Cautiously he pushed open the door.

"Glads he lefts, kreacher is. Pure blood maybe, he has no rights to this house. Not mistresses house. Messes it up he will." Then much to Draco's disgust he saw the house elf spit into the pan he was holding and rub it furiously with a grimy bit of cloth. "Yes, yes, kreacher likes it better now those order have gone. Filthy half breeds. Mud bloods. Mistress would be proud of kreacher, she would."

"Um, kreacher is it?" The house elf's hands stilled as it turned to look at Draco. He tilted his head to one side.

"Has not lefts, has he." The creature continued to stare at him with big eyes for a moment more before snorting and returning to his 'cleaning'. This threw Draco off for a moment, he was unaccustomed to such rudeness from a house elf.

"I would like some food." Again the house elf paused to look at him, this time tilting his head the other way. He seemed very unsure of what to make of Draco. With another long look up and down, kreacher set down the pan with a clang. He hobbled over to a pantry door and vanished inside, mumbling incoherently. Moments later he emerged.

Upon the table he was barely tall enough to reach he set some bread with green mould growing off it and a very blue cheese. Without a glance back at Draco he picked the pan back up and took it with him to a corner. Draco sat down in one of the many mismatched chairs around the table and pulled the bread towards him. He carefully pulled the bread apart and then picked at the hard inners which at least looked mould free. The blue cheese he gave a wide berth – he could smell it from here.

"Um, kreacher, I think I will be staying here for a while. Do you think you could get some more food in?" There was a low mumble from the corner which Draco took to be consent. Draco stood and collected his small bag of things forlornly. He guessed he ought to decide on a room in which to live and he had had enough of the house elf's miserable presence.

He went back up to the first floor and decided to investigate the rooms with closed doors. The first was, he was pleased to see, a grand library. At least he'd have something interesting to fill his time with. The next was a dark panelled study which smelt of moth balls. The door after that was firmly locked and Draco wasn't sure he really wanted to know what hide behind it.

The last room to be explored on that floor turned out to be a gentleman's room with a wizard chess set and expensive liquor cabinet dating back decades. It had a warmer feel than a lot of the other rooms, it lacked the dark aura he'd felt in some of the others.

Deciding that he at least ought to find a bed room he reluctantly left and headed upstairs. The first door, marked RAB was also locked. A set of grand doors and one end opened up to reveal the master bedroom. It was decked in heavy green drapes. Draco decided that this would do. He set his bag down by the door and moved over to the bed. After a quick shake of the sheets to check no doxies had moved in, Draco stripped off to his underwear and crawled in. His exhaustion saw to it he was asleep in no time.

AN Hello! Thank you to all you lovely people who reviewed the last chapter, each was lovely to receive. The next chapter is already half written, I've been on a role this week! Please feel free to leave any comments, Fe x