Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

The Stooges 'I wanna be your dog' – Lose my heart on the burning sand.

Chapter 25:

I'm dead.

At least I will be soon enough.

The cellar is still as dark and damp as it was over New Year's. It doesn't take long for my eyes to adjust, but the cold is something else. It's a few degrees warmer under the drawing room fireplace but it's just about enough to keep Luna, Mr. Ollivander, and I from shivering, despite the fresh blankets Alf keeps down. It's mostly too uncomfortable to sleep. Luna and I give most of our blankets to Mr. Ollivander at night once the fire goes out, and once our toes start to go numb, we barely get any sleep. Mr. Ollivander's cough has gotten worse since I've last been down here. Alf still brings pepper-up potion daily, but it's far from enough.

If we don't get help soon, he won't make it much longer than a few weeks.

Even that will be too late for me.

I've been back down here for three days now, judging by the meals. The only other person I've seen since then is Alf. But he barely stays long enough to drop off food – food he thankfully still makes sure is more than enough to keep us well fed – before he vanishes gain, not giving me a chance to ask him what's going on. Or how Draco is doing.

Or when someone will come for me.

I haven't heard a word from upstairs in all this time either. The fire is started each morning, but there are no footsteps or voices, who knows if anyone ever sits in front of it. Narcissa perhaps, she's light-footed enough not to be heard. But considering I could hear the cutlery being used on New Year's Eve, it's almost concerning how quiet the house currently is.

Or maybe they just don't want any of us to hear anything.

I don't know who I'm more terrified of, Bellatrix or Lucius. But all in all, I'd rather hear Bellatrix coming down these stairs.

If I had a choice, I'd go for You Know Who - there's a greater chance he'd make it quick.

I expected him to arrive within a few hours of being thrown back into the cellar; minutes really. But when he didn't arrive by dinner time, I was just confused. Is Lucius too afraid of the further shame this would bring upon his family? Or has he not realised I hid my memories? Does Bellatrix know? Probably not. She'd have a field day with me if she ever found out.

And what on earth are they planning to do with me? Just leave me down here to rot? That would be preferable.

I don't speak much to the other two. If I do, it's in hushed voices, too scared to be heard, even if its just to say good night. Luna asked questions when I first came down, but I couldn't get myself to answer any of them. Thankfully, Luna is observant enough to know when to stop asking.

Mr. Ollivander only thanked me for sending Alf. He's too week to speak too much.

I haven't locked away my memories. I know I probably should. It would be safer. I almost did when Fips took me back down here, but I held back once I realised, we weren't stopping in the drawing room. I know it's foolish to hold onto my memories, but I'm convinced, if I managed to lock my memories away in just a few minutes when Alf picked me up for dinner, I can do it again. Everything is sorted, I only need to lock up.

But I can't let go of Draco just yet.

We all flinch when we hear the fist sound in days. We're huddled together under the fireplace, cowering under our blankets, Mr. Ollivander gently snoring. He jumps up at the noise, no matter how quiet it is, it's blaring through the silence.

Luna grabs my wrist. I put a finger to my lips, my heart pounds in my chest.

The voices are too low to make out any words. Both are male, one is Lucius, the other takes me a little longer to recognise, but when I do, I slam my hand over my mouth, hoping the gasp that comes out isn't audible upstairs. It's Theo. And for the first time in three days, I feel the tiniest glimmer of hope.

They speak for a while, while we sit in absolute silence, until a third voice comes into the mix. It's male, it's vaguely familiar, but I can't pinpoint who it is. It's the first voice that goes quiet again.

And it's the voice we hear outside the door just a few moments later.

"Stand against the wall!"

We do as he says, Mr. Ollivander propped up in the middle, and his silhouette appears in the doorway. He's short and a little round.

"Potter. Come with me."

Please Theo, have a plan.

I follow the man up the stairs. I only recognise him once I see him in the light flooding in through the window and my eyes have adjusted. It's Pettigrew. I never realised he was staying here too. He binds my hands together and leads me through the door into the drawing room.

I know he's there, I heard his voice just moments ago. But the sight of um still makes my stomach churn. I look down at the cold stone floor.

It's Theo who moves first, "it's an interesting offer, Lucius."

"Draco has grown tired of her. Maybe you can beat her into submission, I've heard about your legilimency skills. Maybe a different approach will get her to crack."

"She seemed subdued enough at dinner last week."

"She knows not to misbehave in front of a crowd – you might be able to use that to your advantage – but behind closed doors she's been giving Draco nothing but trouble."

"I see," Theo says drily, seemingly bored, "and this has all been cleared with the dark Lord?"

"The dark Lord ordered she be moved." bullshit. "It won't be announced officially, of course. We don't want the order finding out exactly where she is, so this is to be treated with the utmost secrecy Nott. I trust you understand the gravity of the situation."

"What I understand, Lucius, is that you're trying to get rid of a liability and shift the blame, should anything not go according to plan – which seems more than likely considering the current climate – to anyone but yourself. Or your family," he adds almost as an afterthought.

Lucius goes still. "Mr. Nott," he says, deadly quiet. "Looking after Miss Potter is a privilege any one of us should feel honoured to be allowed to carry out. I kindly suggest you stop insinuating my cowardice in my own home and stop questioning the Dark Lord's orders." He pauses. "You're free to refuse this offer, we do have a long list of volunteers willing to take her in, but please do so without insulting me."

Pettigrew moves away from me, leaving me to stand out in the open, uncomfortably exposed. But not for long. Theo moves in front of me, lifts my chin up with is finger and winks at me, unnoticed by the other two. You're safe, it says, and the knot in my stomach unfurls just the tiniest bit.

"I suspect the Dark Lord wants her moved because clearly neither one of you can ensure she stays undamaged." Before Lucius can do so much as huff, Theo adds, "I highly doubt she's been giving anyone any trouble, but sure, I'll take the challenge. When do you went her moved?"

"As soon as possible," Lucius says immediately.

"This will need some careful planning, Lucius. I'd rather not be intercepted with Potters sister on the back of my broom, they'll kill me on the spot."

"All the better to move her now, unplanned missions are the least interceptable ones."

Theo huffs and I look up at him with subtly pleading eyes, hoping none of the other two notice, but he ignores me. "First of all, I did not come here by broom," he says as if the idea is absolutely preposterous, "second of all," he turns back to Lucius, "your house is under constant surveillance Malfoy, from the Dark Lord, the Ministry, MACUSA and from the Order, it is probably the most heavily monitored dwelling in the entire country. You so much as fart and half the wizarding population knows about it. The second she steps her pinky toe out of this house, they'll be on us like vultures. I am not moving her without careful planning."

"Use the floo -"

"Your floo network has been cut off, Malfoy."

"Excuse me?"

"The Dark Lord revoked your rights a few days ago." I can hear the smirk in Theo's voice. "He doesn't trust you. Why do you think he no longer wants you to handle the Potter girl? Your house is unsafe, you have no wand, your wife is weak, your sister-in-law is a lunatic, and your son has better shit to do – you're a liability Malfoy. If your Gringotts vault weren't so big, the Dark Lord would have gotten rid of you and your God forsaken family years ago. I'll take pity on you, I'll take the girl off your hands, but I'll do it on my terms."

Lucius turns to look at Pettigrew, stunned into silence. Pettigrew doesn't look at him.

But before either one of the three men can say another word, Fips appears and says five words that make my blood run cold, "Mr. Greyback demands entry, Master."

Theo's head snaps in Fips' direction. "The Dark Lord will have your head for this –"

Lucius raises his hand to shush him. "What does he want?"

"Mr. Greyback says Mr. Greyback has snatched Harry Potter, Master."

I'm going to throw up.

Theo grabs my upper arm and Lucius turns towards us, a wicked grin on his face. "Peter, why don't you bring Miss Potter back down to the cellar."

Shit.

"Mr. Nott, how about we continue this conversation some other time?"

"Oh no, I would hate to miss your humiliation, Malfoy. I think I'll stick around."

The last thing I see before Pettigrew drags me down the stairs, is Lucius' clenched jaw.

Luna jumps on me as soon as the cellar door closes. "What happened?"

"They got Harry," I say flatly.

"What?" Luna's voice sounds about as incredulous as I feel.

"I don't know," I say. "The elf said Greyback is here, and he snatched Harry," I pause. "But I haven't seen him, so I don't know, it might be someone else."

"I hope it's someone else…" Luna trails off, biting her lower lip, but we both know it's unlikely.

"It can't be Mr. Potter," Ollivander says. "They can't have caught him! That would mean-" he can't bring himself to say the words. "What did they tell you up there?"

"Nothing about Harry," I say, "it was about something else…" I feel selfish all of a sudden, I have a way out. They don't.

There's a commotion upstairs, more voices, Bellatrix' voice. We all listen in silence, Luna and I standing close together right under the upstairs footsteps, Mr. Ollivander sitting under a blanket under the fireplace. We all stare at the ceiling, our eyes follow along to where we think several pairs of feet shuffle towards the cellar stairs. And sure enough,

"Stand against the wall!" It's Pettigrew again.

We do as we're told. The door opens, a large ball of limbs is thrown into the room, and the door slams shut again. Luna darts away from the huddle, I towards it. The red sheen on one of the heads is unmistakeable and my stomach churns. The ball of limbs groans.

"Harry?" I ask tentatively, crouching down.

"Here," it sounds muffled, laboured. But it's definitely Harry and I have to fight a scream of despair.

"Hold on," Luna says. Something glistens in her hand, which she promptly uses to chop away at the ropes binding Harry and Ron to two other bodies. Someone screams upstairs, Ron struggles against the rope, causing Luna to slip the other person's hand with her shard of glass. "Ron!" she pleads.

I realise who it is even before Ron yells her name.

I pull on the ropes until all four people are sitting up. I scurry over to Harry. His face is puffy and swollen, but it's unmistakably him. I feel for the nearest knot around Harry's chest and pull on it, struggling to keep it between my fingers as Ron still screams and thrashes. I try to ignore Hermione, pretend I don't hear her. Pretend I don't know what she's going through.

"What happened?" I ask Harry, moving to the next knot when the first finally opens.

"You're alive," Harry ignores my question. "I told her you're alive."

I don't need to ask him who he means. "And it would have been absolutely stupid to try to come and get me," I say drily. "Please tell me that's not what you were trying to do."

"No, this was…" I finally free Harry's hands and he starts working on the knots around the person to his right. "An accident," he mumbles.

Luna manages to free Ron, who jumps up and starts banging on the cellar door, kicking at it, screaming Hermione's name.

"There's no way out Ron," I yell at him. Harry's legs are free, and he starts working on the binds around the smaller form to his left. Luna cuts free who I finally recognise as Dean.

"Ron…" Harry starts but it falls on death ears. "There's no way out of this cellar?" he asks the room.

Luna shakes her head.

"There's no way out of this house," I say.

The screams stop and we all look up at the ceiling.

"Stand against the wall!" It's still Pettigrew. I grab Ron's arm and try to pull him away from the door. Harry follows my lead.

Pettigrew enters pointing his wand at us. "You, goblin," he points at the smallest form. "Come with me."

I hadn't noticed it was a goblin, too preoccupied with Harry's capture, but I watch in silence as the goblin follows the order and the door shuts again. For a heartbeat we're plunged into relative darkness until Ron clicks something, releasing a ball of light into the room revealing all our faces.

Harry and I stare at each other. His hair is long, as is his beard. The puffiness on his face is dying down, but he looks dishevelled, haunted. I'm sure I don't look much better. Harry surges forward, engulfing me in his arms and I squeeze back just as hard.

"Do any of you have anything else useful in your pockets?" I ask, muffled by Harry's shoulder.

"Maybe," Harry says, letting go of me. He crouches down, lifts his trouser leg, and pulls a shard out of his sock.

"Broken mirrors are supposed to bring bad luck," I say drily. "We don't need any more of that."

"This better work, Harry," Ron says. "Wormtail is bound to comeback down any minute..."

"Who?" Dean and I ask in unison.

"Pettigrew," Luna say. "I never know why they call him that."

"Help us!" Harry speaks directly into the broken glass.

For a few seconds the four of us, Luna, Dean, Mr. Ollivander, and I, stare at Harry with a healthy dose of scepticism. And then -

Pop!

A tiny elf materialises in the middle of the room.

"Dobby!" Harry sounds like this isn't who he was expecting.

"Harry Potter Sir!" the elf squeals. "So good to see you!"

"We don't have much time dobby," Harry scooches down to his level. "Can you apparate out of here?"

"Of course, sir. I'm an elf."

It clicks and I hurry over to Mr. Ollivander and help him to his feet, away from the wall he's still leaning against.

"Excellent!" Harry says. "Can you take, Luna, Dean, Jay and Mr. Ollivander to…"

"Shell Cottage," says Ron. "Near Tinworth, Cornwall. Trust me."

"Hold on," I say. "I'm staying with you."

"No, you're not."

"Harry!"

"No! If we don't make it out, you know what to do. Find help and continue the work." He pushes me towards the elf and Dean takes my hand, the other already on Dobby's shoulder. "Now go. Dobby, meet us at the top of the stairs in ten seconds."

I don't have time to respond before the familiar constriction of apparition squeezes me out of the room.

My feet hit sandy grass and I breathe, for the first time in months, fresh air. It's cold, and salty. It smells of ocean and beyond the cliff on which we are standing, there's the sea, deep blue and calm, waves rushing against the shore in a steady rhythm. I fall to my knees, dig my fingers into the ground. Lune starts to giggle. I can't help but join in, as does Mr. Ollivander.

The elf disappears with a faint pop.

"Bill!" A female voice shouts from somewhere to our left. A woman comes running out of a small cottage on the top of the cliff, her silvery blonde her trailing behind her. She has her wand in her hand, but it isn't pointed at us. "Bill, come quick!"

A red-haired man appears from behind the cottage, Bill Weasley, Ron's brother. "What Happened?!" He shouts. "Are any of you hurt?"

"Mr. Ollivander," Luna says. "He's weak."

"We just escaped," Dean offers. "From Malfoy Manor."

"Harry, Hermione and Ron are still there," I add.

"Why didn't they come with you?" Bill asks, slinging one of Mr. Ollivander's arms over his shoulder.

"They were interrogating Hermione," I say, Dean and Luna already following Fleur's beckoning into the house.

"Interrogating Hermione?" Bill's tone leaves no doubt he knows exactly what they are doing to her.

I follow the others into the house. It's small, the front door leads straight into a cosy living room with a crackling fire and a winter garden and kitchen with stunning views over the cliff edge – the room spans the entirety of the cottage. Bill lowers Mr. Ollivander onto a plush sofa where Fleur starts tending to him. "Are any of you hurt?" she asks the rest of us.

"I just have a cut on my hand," Dean says. "But it's nothing major."

"There's some essence of dittany in that cupboard," Bill points at a kitchen cupboard and I jump at the chance to do something.

There's an array of herbs and vials. I pull out some dittany and hand it to Dean before taking out mullein root and willow bark, "do you have a bathtub?"

"Yes, I'll show you" Fleur says, just as Bill asks, "Ron was with Harry and Hermione?"

"Yes."

"Right, stay here. All of you, don't leave the house."

"Where are you going?"

"To mum and dad's. I heed to get them somewhere safe. And to alert the rest of the Order. How many of you have wands?"

Luna and I glance at each other. Bill visibly tenses. He walks over to a small table next to the sofa and pulls open a drawer, revealing two battered looking wands. "That's all I have. Who's best at defence?"

I take a step beck. I saw Luna fight last year and Dean got the hang of silent spells weeks before I did. I'll be of more use finding a mandrake.

"I'll be ten minutes," Bill says to his wife. "We'll need to put a Fidelius charm on the house as soon as I'm back."

"Ten minutes," Fleur says insistently.

"If I'm not back by then, leave, all of you. Go to Aunty Muriel's" - Fleur scrunches her nose - "and we'll find a way to France from there."

Bill leaves and the room grows quiet for a moment, Fleur tending to Mr. Ollivander, Luna, Dean, and I standing around awkwardly.

"Where's your bathroom?" I ask.

"Through there," Fleur points at a door next to a set of stairs leading to an upper floor.

The bathroom is small, it just about fits a bathtub, toilet, and sink. But despite there only being one small window overlooking the front garden, it feels light and airy. The floor is made of rough stone and feels almost sandy, and the walls are covered in cockle shells. It's much more comfortable than Draco's.

I start running a bath, checking the temperature on my wrist, making sure it's hot enough to soothe a muscle without boiling Hermione alive. I break the willow bark into the water and go to fetch a kitchen knife for the mullein, but I get interrupted by a commotion in the front garden. Luna and Dean storm past me, wands at the ready. But when I catch a glimpse through the front door of who's outside, I run past them, dropping knife and root in the process.

"Harry don't!" I scream, pushing past Ron, and grab his wand arm, trying to wrestle it down. "Stop! He's safe."

"He's a Death Eater!" Harry won't look at me and when he won't lower his wand, I resort to standing in front of it.

"He's not! He doesn't have the mark," I push back. "He doesn't want the mark. He was there to get me out, Harry, we've been planning for weeks, and he was going to come with me, because he doesn't want anything to do with the Death Eaters. Will you drop your fucking wand!" I scream that last part.

"Nott?!" Harry asks, finally looking at me.

"Yes. Nott," I say. "And we would have managed, if you hadn't-" I wave my hand in front of his face "- had an accident."

"Nott," Harry repeats questioningly.

"Yes," I reiterate, crossing my arms. "Take his wand if you don't trust him, he won't mind." He definitely would, if he could talk.

"If he so much as moves a toe out of line-"

"I'll vouch for him," I say. "He could be useful. He was at the last Death Eater meeting, he might have more information."

Harry presses his lips together.

"Let him stay," Hermione says, hanging weakly in Ron's arms.

Harry turns towards the pair. Ron glances down at Hermione, and nods.

"He can be a dick, but you can trust him," I say. "He just put his neck on the line for me. Isn't that enough?"

Harry sighs, "Fine." He walks to where Theo is laying petrified in the sand, searches him for his wand and lifts the curse.

Theo groans, "fucking hell Potter." He takes Harry's outstretched hand and lets him pull him to his feet, just as Bill reappears, and starts patting the sand off his trousers.

Bill freezes, "aren't you-"

"A proud turncoat, yes." Theo grins at him and curtsies. "Theodore Nott, at your service."

I roll my eyes.

"Harry…" Hermione whispers and we all turn to where she's pointing.

Dobby lays a few feet away, ignored by all of us until now, with a bright red patch on his chest. A deafening silence stretches over us, even the ocean waves seem to quiet down, until Harry finally sprints over to him, followed by, of all people, Theo. The two start cradling the elf, putting pressure on the wound, but I can see even from this distance, that Dobby isn't moving.

"Hermione-" Harry croaks, but she shakes her head.

I can't watch. I turn away, ready to walk back into the house, to turn off the water in the bathroom, a good excuse to not look at the scene in front of me. But before I can take two steps, I spot Bellatrix' knife in the sand, covered in blood.