Ch. 33: The Unraveling
April 4th, 1999
First thing in the morning, Harry and Ron rushed to the Ministry after they spent hours into the night plotting how they were going to approach their childhood nemesis. Both dreaded the inevitable confrontation but the underlying urgency placed by their mutual acquaintances was enough to spur their visit on a Sunday morning which wasn't entirely unexpected of them as of late. Typically, no one came in on the weekends but the offices remained open regardless for anyone who wanted to catch up on work. As the lift ascended, they stood on opposite ends and were noticeably tense. Though Ron especially was out of sorts.
"Alright there, mate?" Harry remarked, concerned eyes trailed up and down his visibly stricken appearance.
"M'fine," Ron managed while bracing his back against the wall. "Just not looking forward to the next few hours is all."
"We managed a relatively civil conversation days ago," Harry offered. "I'd say that's progress."
"That was before I knew about..." he broke off with a grimace.
He didn't need to finish that statement for Harry to understand. Seeing as he had time to mentally prepare for the possibility of Malfoy and Hermione being involved, it didn't come as much of a shock. But Ron didn't have that luxury. Regardless, they had to put on a brave face and their best foot forward.
"Let's focus on figuring out what happened with Claire first. Then, maybe if Hermione hasn't killed us the moment she wakes up, we can talk to her about it. But only if she wants to," he added quickly upon recalling how their last interaction went. "One thing at a time, yeah?"
Ron nodded slowly, appearing more steady. "Right. One thing at a time."
With a ding, the doors to the lift opened to the auror office. The floor seemed vacant save for their administrative assistant who was in the middle of taking a sizable bite out of a sausage roll.
"Oi Puffin!" Ron hollered crudely, startling their unsuspecting coworker and causing him to nearly choke. Once he saw who was barging in, he released a groan of detest.
"You know most people choose to stay home on weekends," Puffin remarked, clearly irritated. "Shouldn't you be off celebrating and leaving me in peace?"
"We won't be long. We just need to speak with Malfoy," Harry trailed off when he noticed the lack of light coming through the booking rooms.
Puffin gave them an odd look.
"What are you on about?"
They, in turn, gave him their own quizzical looks.
"Draco Malfoy," Ron exaggerated slowly. "About this tall," he gestured to a height a good head shorter than himself. "Stupid face. Acts like he's better than everyone when he's just a stuck up coc—"
"Ron." Harry glared at him while Puffin didn't look any less confused.
"I know who he is, but Angler already took him in yesterday."
"That's...that can't be right," Harry struggled while processing this news. "His hearing was scheduled for later in the week."
"Hearing was canceled. The vote was unanimous by the department according to the records." Puffin supplied.
Except Robards would have never voted in favor of this. Bringing someone in without an interrogation or a trial was something very out of character for Robards; especially since he was the one who'd gone through the paperwork to ensure Malfoy's hearing date. "Where was Robards when this vote took place?"
"He had to leave to cover an urgent case. Said he'd be back by the end of the week." The pair of wizards went still, both attempting to disguise the surprise on their faces. The head auror was supposed to be in all week for this. He was supposed to be the one overseeing this hearing. And now that he is absent...
"This wouldn't happen to be the Dahlia case, would it?"
"That's classified, Weasley," Puffin's eyes narrowed into slits. "Trainees aren't granted full access and last I checked, you aren't assigned to that case anymore."
The Dahlia case was the case they worked with MACUSA on before being removed due to spoliation. Puffin may not be the most forthcoming, which in part may be why others trusted him, but reaction told them all they needed to know. Robards was overseas in America working this case as a priority, foregoing his own caseload for the time being.
Auror Sparrow's case.
"Is there anything else?" he prodded with an impatient edge to his tone. Clearly, he'd been anticipating a peaceful Saturday without anyone around.
"Won't be necessary. Thanks Puffin." Harry gave a quick nod before he and Ron made a beeline for the lift. Once the metal door cage to the lift clicked shut, Ron spoke aloud.
"Harry...you don't think that Sparrow's been planning this all along, do you? Have Robards out so she could take over this case the moment we brought someone in?"
After a moment's pause, Harry let loose a shaky breath. "Yes, Ron. That's exactly what I think."
✦·*·✦
Clearly aggravated, Blaise frowned in disapproval when he checked his watch. "What's taking them? They said they would be here."
"I take it you were never taught patience as a child?" Ginny noted with a noticeable edge in her voice. Not at all being helped by Blaise's persistent pacing about Hermione's cot.
"It's nearly been a week," he clipped before turning to face her. "You haven't heard from them since?"
"No, I haven't." Ginny crossed her arms, curling into herself as she recalled how she and Harry left things last they spoke.
A hint of concern flashed across his eyes before it was quickly followed by a scoff. "Give it another week or two, you'll be back to shagging each other's brains out in no time."
Ginny tried to withhold the jab at his obvious projection but her efforts were naught. "Is that what you tell yourself?"
"Meaning?"
"Are we going to ignore the fact that you haven't brought up your girlfriend since you declined her Spain invitation for the third time?"
In a quick breath, his gaze darkened and his jaw clicked.
"There's nothing to talk about," he snapped. It wasn't difficult to conclude that while he was perfectly content with taking things slow from an emotional standpoint, Elena was ready for commitment. Something he was still adamant in avoiding.
"Blaise—" she attempted, but his attention had long deviated from her. Instead, it migrated to their new company, effectively ending their conversation. Theo appeared through the doorway, followed shortly by Harry and Ron.
"Glad you could take time out of your busy schedules to join us," Blaise acknowledged dryly. Theo rolled his eyes and shook his head in disapproval.
"Ignore him, he's just being pissy." But neither of them seemed to pay it any mind. Rather, they appeared to be in their own heads, noticeably disconcerted.
"Well?" Ginny pressed. "What did you find out?"
"Malfoy's not in the office anymore," Harry paused, bracing himself. "He's been transferred. Without a trial or even a hearing."
Blaise cursed under his breath and Ginny went uncharacteristically silent while staring at their unmoving friend.
"So...that's it? We're too late?" Theo prodded.
"Not necessarily," Harry offered. "It'll be more difficult to reach him, but not impossible."
Ginny turned to him, narrowing her eyes at his choice of wording. "What did you do?"
"Nothing."
She crossed her arms at his abrupt response. "Alright. What didn't you do?"
They watched as he extracted an unopened vial containing a swirling liquid. A substance that had several in Slughorn's first class since returning to Hogwarts up in arms for.
"Liquid Luck?" Theo questioned, sounding a smidge impressed.
"We kept hitting dead ends and our best lead is currently in a coma. I was desperate," Harry shrugged. "Not that it mattered in the end," he mumbled under his breath, preparing to dispel what transpired the last 12 hours as it played out in his head...
.
.
.
Earlier that day...
"You sure about this, Harry?" Ron questioned as Harry swirled the liquid in the vial around. Once they left the office, they headed straight home where a secret stash of potions lay hidden away. Some of which were strictly forbidden to be used in active hours as an hour. Something about Felix Felicis not being a viable reason for validating evidence. But when their case was technically solved and they weren't actively working on it anymore...
"Our supervisor is out and Sparrow is actively working against us. I need answers and I bet you anything she knows what actually happened."
"You really think she'll tell you?"
"That's what this is for," Harry gestured to the vial before pocketing it. "Just in case."
"That's even if she'll let you in when she realizes it's you. You sure you don't want to take some polyjuice?"
He thought back to a horrendous, taunting laugh throbbing in his mind. The desperate tone she took when she loomed over him in the forest. The one of a mother who would do anything for her child.
"Just trust me on this, Ron."
"Alright, mate. Send a patronus if you need help."
With a blink, Harry popped and disappeared. The next second, he appeared in front of a large, looming manor. Taking a deep breath, he reached in his pocket in search for the vial but to no avail. It was gone. Harry cursed under his breath as he searched his pockets. Only to be stopped abruptly when the large doors slid open with a solid creak. Startled, he stepped back as he looked down to see a beaming house elf, donned in a flannel and house slippers embroidered with the family insignia.
"Oh," Harry paused. "Hello."
"Greetings Harry Potter," the elf bowed respectfully before gesturing behind them. "This way, please."
He was led inside, and the large doors clicked shut.
.
.
.
They all listened with rapt attention as Harry recounted the events.
"Polyjuice? A house elf? Where on earth did you go?" Ginny implored with bemusement. Meanwhile, Theo and Blaise shared similar, knowing looks.
.
.
.
As they made their way through the long hallway, Harry felt the urge to ask, "you know who I am?"
The elf nodded. "Certainly sir. All of us house elves knew about how the great Harry Potter triumphed over 'he-who-shall-not-be-named.' Twice now," she beamed as she led them to a drawing room, completely unaware of his inner turmoil caused from her echoing Dobby's first words to him. "The missus has been expecting company. Though I must extend my apologies. We had coffee in preparation for another's arrival."
Just as he was about to inquire who, his attention was pulled. The layout of the drawing room was far different from what he'd been anticipating. A patterned, emerald rug lay in the center of the black tiled floor. All of the furniture looked like it'd been replaced in the past year. A new loveseat and two seating chairs sat in the middle of the room. Lush, grey upholstered cushions with delicate silver and gold accents on the deep mahogany framing. The area felt sophisticated. Poised. But also, lighter.
Freer.
Then there was the woman who sat in one of the seats. A teacup filled with hot tea and tipped over with perfect posture.
"Welcome Mister Potter."
He swallowed his nerves and steadied his breath.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy."
.
.
.
"You went to his house?" Ginny emphasized with widened eyes. "And you didn't take the potion beforehand?"
"I couldn't take the chance of apparating while being on a potion, even if it is liquid luck," he explained, grimacing at the thought. "Not after Hermione."
Her gaze dimmed and she fell silent. After an uncomfortable pause fell among the group, Theo spoke up.
"Did she say anything helpful about Draco?"
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.
.
The elf had popped off to the kitchen to start the next course while Harry sat uncomfortably with his cup of coffee. A cappuccino. Hermione's favorite, he noted.
"Do you not drink coffee?" Narcissa implored, sounding remarkably concerned. "I can have Mitsy prepare something else to your liking—"
"No!" He blurted, at unease at the thought of an elf doing their bidding, free or not. "This is fine, I'm just not very thirsty right now."
She gave him a peculiar glance. "I see. Instead, you partake in quenching by means of taking potions?" His head jerked up when at the snap of her fingers, the vial that had gone missing from his pocket suddenly materialized in the space between them.
In response to his quizzical expression, she explained, "I am the lady of the manor, Potter. These are my wards in place, customized for my protection," she emphasized, giving a friendly wink.
Dumbfounded, all he could manage was, "they aren't your husband's?"
"Actually, since Lucius was taken to Azkaban, Draco has become the man of the house. It was he who elected to forego the family tradition of the men being the ones to provide the magic," she remarked with pride and a beaming smile. "It was also his idea to take in Mitzy when her family was killed during the battle." Harry stared blankly, uncertain with how to process this new information. "Lucius might have some words about keeping her but between you and I," she leaned a smidge closer, "I absolutely adore her company. And, she can make quite the spread."
With another snap of her fingers, various platters of delectable finger sandwiches and scones appeared on the table between them.
"Please," she insisted gently, "help yourself."
"I'm not very hungry." Lie. He'd missed breakfast this morning.
Giving him an inquisitorial look, she eventually shrugged and set to helping herself.
They sat in silence as she piled a few sandwiches on her plate. While she settled in comfortably, Harry debated on how to proceed without the aid of Felix Felicis. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected when meeting Malfoy's mother. But it was clear that while the men were the direct linkage for the family, the power came from the women. Yet, despite bearing such power, he could sense a recurring desperation from the moment they shared in the forest. How utterly powerless she felt as a mother who wanted to find her son and ensure his safety.
He doubted that fact changed since their last encounter.
"I never thanked you," Harry acknowledged bravely. "For what you did in the forest."
With a light chuckle, she waved it off with a delicate hand.
"You needn't thank me. Personally, I never wanted any part of that madman's philosophy."
"Still, I can't imagine where we would be if you hadn't misled him," he insisted.
Instead of denying, Narcissa took a minute to appreciate the truth in them before offering words. "I've spent many years complacent to Lucius' devotion to the Dark Lord," she shared solemnly. "Naturally, we were aware of the horrors he inflicted on others though we were drawn to the prospect of gaining power and status. Most of all, we sought protection. His raids ripped our world apart. People were either missing or dying left and right and for his people, it was just another day. At the end of it all, I only cared for my family's safety. But then Lucius lost his favor and...everything changed," she stopped abruptly, steadying herself. "The moment that...lunatic insisted on my child taking that horrid mark, let alone, established his base of operations in our home, I knew we'd made a terrible mistake."
Harry could only sit in silence as she spoke in heavy, earnest tones. Part of him had a difficult time believing Lucius Malfoy was able to gain such an insightful woman as his wife. Yet, it also made sense. The Malfoys had always been attracted to power and Narcissa certainly embodied it.
"I imagine it must have been difficult for your husband to grasp once you made your stance."
To which, she huffed a dark chuckle. "He's certainly changed his tone since his second imprisonment. But I don't believe you are here to discuss my husband, are you Mister Potter?"
Dread began to creep into his gut, knowing this conversation was about to take a turn for the worse.
"Draco is in the Ministry's custody," he explained carefully. "He was supposed to have a hearing this week but...it seemed they decided to forego the process entirely."
Narcissa's hint of a smile disappeared and she was stunned silent as she processed this information. "I...I don't...how can this be?"
"You couldn't have known this was happening. We kept this case under wraps—" Harry attempted to console her but instead of agreeing, she shook her head. And her next words floored him.
"You don't understand, Mister Potter. I've known of his pending arrest for months."
.
.
.
They all take in Harry's words with shared surprise.
Theo blinked the shock away. "Well, I did not see that coming."
"Wait, she knew and she let it happen?" Ginny pressed.
"Hold on, I'm getting to it—"
.
.
.
Narcissa's eyes fell as she stared into her cup. After a moment, she stood and wandered over to their fireplace. She remained in place with her back turned to him. The flames flickering were the only addition of sound in the otherwise silent room. After a moment, she unleashed a deep sigh before speaking. "Both Lucius and I knew it was a matter of time before the truth caught up but we hoped we could delay the inevitable. At least until," she stopped herself and he turned to face her.
"Until...?" He pried gently.
"I apologize. I fear I have said too much already." It was clear she was close to dismissing him but he had to acquire more information somehow. Gods, he wished he'd taken the liquid luck when he had the chance.
"Mrs. Malfoy, wait. Your son confessed but... I know there is something he's not telling me and if it's important or could help him in any way, I need to know."
She looked up with surprise. "Draco confessed?"
He nodded slowly. "He didn't fight it. If anything, he seemed insistent and I don't know why."
After a moment, she asked, "Am I correct in stating that you'd be in a great deal of trouble if the Ministry knew we were having this conversation?"
Harry tilted his head back and forth, "I'd say that is an accurate statement."
"Then you shouldn't be here," she stated point-blankly as she rounded the loveseat.
"Mrs. Malfoy—" he attempted and she stopped in place.
"Forgive me, Mister Potter. I want nothing more than to help you, believe me. But this goes beyond uncovering Draco's motives behind his incriminating actions." She inhaled a deep breath. "The reasoning behind his lack of a fight is...complicated and to offer any contribution, even from a hypothetical standpoint, is risky."
"What risk? This conversation won't be on record."
"My husband was granted a hearing for numerous charges and years of serving the Dark Lord, was he not? Yet, my son is not being granted the same right despite being underage when he was enlisted." Harry knew he didn't have to entertain her with a response. She'd been in this game longer than he'd been alive. "I recognize a personal vendetta when I see one, Mister Potter. Someone in the auror office is actively working against him and because of this, I cannot say any more regarding this matter."
No.
This couldn't be another dead end.
"But, you're his mother," he said weakly, and still, she was unswayed.
"Draco is of age now. Legally, I cannot help him. He could obtain a longer sentence if they knew of my interference. Or far worse."
"Then why let me in at all?" He asked while she took the seat next to him. "If you knew this whole time, why risk it?"
"Because you are unaffiliated. Unbiased. What's more, you know how to best assist him," she admitted softly. "Better than I, even."
He blinked at her. Was she...she was joking, right?
"Did you know Draco often spoke of your exploits?" she expressed exhaustingly. "The boy who lived, a walking prodigy amongst us who thinks he's better than everyone else because of his immunity," she mimicked in a taunt that made him question whether Malfoy actually inherited more from her.
Harry grimaced. "That's a bit...embellished."
"But with some truth, correct? You and your friends have accomplished the impossible but not without its risks." Her expression shifted in a way that told her Malfoy didn't get his mischievous ways from his father. "Not without breaking a few rules and knowing the right people..."
Harry took in her seemingly innocent smile in awe. After a few seconds, he found his lips twitching upwards to match it.
.
.
.
They all stood around, staring at Harry with matching befuddled expressions.
"I...I don't follow," Ginny said. But for the first time in the past few months, Harry appeared proud and certain of himself.
"She said I knew how to best assist him," he recalled. "Sparrow's been planning around Robards being an issue, but not us. We've never been a real threat to her, which means we can find a way around the case, but we'll need to be careful to make sure she doesn't find out."
"She's related to the victim, isn't she?" Theo inquired. "Doesn't that make her a conflict of interest? She wouldn't be able to have any say."
"She doesn't have to be working the case to have influence on the ones who are," Harry answered. There were plenty of those in the Ministry who believed all affiliates of Voldemort should be behind bars. There were certainly more than enough to make the overruled hearing appear as a majority vote. Which made trying to get a hold of Malfoy even more problematic.
You're choosing now to play by the rules?
Harry's stomach churned with the abhorrent possibility that maybe he had a point. The auror office had been promoting secrecy and influencing their lives outside of work when he should have been questioning the dubiety behind these decisions all along. "Ron, I need you to reach out to Renaldo tomorrow morning," he decided. "See if you can get clearance for sometime in the week. The sooner, the better."
"The prison guard?" Ron implored, clearly having a different opinion on reaching out to the auror. "You sure that's a good idea?"
"I'm with Weasley on this," Blaise added, earning surprised glances from everyone. Except Ron who crossed his arms smugly and played it off as 'of course I'm right.' "If Narcissa's right about this, then Sparrow has people working on the inside, including Azkaban. What makes you think you can trust him?"
Harry's lips pursed together as he contemplated his next words. "He and Sparrow have a history. A bad one," he clarified carefully. Harry then turned to Blaise and Theo. "Once we get the approval, one of you will need to get Malfoy talking."
The pair shared a quick glance. "You mean—"
Harry nodded in affirmation. "He's made it clear he won't tell me anything, but maybe he'll tell someone he trusts now that there's incentive." His eyes darted to Hermione for a brief second.
"I'll do it," Theo volunteered instantly.
Knowing the reasoning behind his insistence, Harry shook his head and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Sorry Theo, but with your father's ties to Voldemort, I doubt you'll make it past the front door without triggering alarms."
Stunned at the implication, Blaise could only stare at Harry with raised brows. "Sending one of your enemies into the highest security wizarding prison with your entire career on the line? Quite a bold move, even for you."
"Not enemies," Harry corrected swiftly. "Ginny and Hermione trust you. No reason why I shouldn't do the same."
Theo gave a hint of a smile while Blaise looked impressed.
"Harry's right," Ginny supplied, surprise treading along her voice. "However risky, it's our best option right now. We don't know what Sparrow has in store and for all we know, she could have Blondie sentenced for the kiss."
Blaise stood with crossed arms, contemplating the various risks associated with the task. Eventually, he held his hand out in front of Harry who took it without any hesitance as a silent agreement.
You can count on me.
Harry gave his hand a firm shake in response before letting go. "We still have to wait for the approval from Renaldo. In the meantime," Harry trailed off as his eyes fell onto Hermione. "Someone will need to be here when she wakes up."
"Right," Theo sighed, dejected as it happened to be his turn in the rotation. "And in the off chance she wakes, say, tomorrow," he prompted with a twinge of fear.
"Well, it was nice knowing you—ow—" Ginny smacked Blaise on the shoulder while Harry shot him a glare, his expression softening by the time it drifted back to Theo.
"Don't worry, it's me she's upset with. Just tell her Ron and I are handling it and that we're sorting it out." At that, Theo's brow furrowed.
"Wait. Are we not supposed to give her any details? She's going to want to know—"
"This case is on a need-to-know basis," Harry affirmed. "Whatever you do, don't get her involved."
"Harry—" Ginny protested.
"We can't take any chances," Harry interjected. "The Ministry may be able to protect Sparrow but I doubt they'll be as willing to protect Hermione. Especially given her ties to Malfoy."
"Which you didn't even know about until recently," she said sharply.
"And if she puts herself front and center, it won't take much for them to deduce what they are to each other," Harry quickly retorted back, a harsh edge to match her own. "No one's that good."
Ginny's jaw clicked as she dared to argue that in fact, they were that good. Because she knew they would be willing to pause their relationship to prioritize the other's safety. She saw it every day they hid what they were to each other for the sake of the other.
Selflessness, Slughorn had emphasized.
The pair of them watched each other, bristling.
Taking the hint, Blaise and Theo quickly bid goodnight and had shuffled out of the wing which left Harry and Ginny alone.
When the large door clicked shut, the anger faded and they were brought to the forefront of reality. Gnawing the inside of her cheek, Ginny held her tongue. She didn't lie when she said she hadn't been in the mood to talk as of late. Not strictly because she was mad at both Harry and Ron for keeping this hidden for so long but also to process all that's happened in another eventful school year. For a few moments, they shuffled and stood around in awkward silence before their nerves got the better of them.
"I didn't mean—"
"I wasn't trying to—"
They stopped, staring at each other awkwardly.
"All I wanted was to do my job. To keep everyone safe. To keep you safe," he admitted.
"I understand—"
"Then Malfoy...and Hermione—" Harry fought a grimace as Malfoy's voice rang in his head.
You lost your fucking head.
"I hate being in this situation," he concluded, dejected.
"I know you do—"
"I spent months trying to figure this out, all to find out it was Malfoy all along. I should be happy." Robards told him he should feel proud. That it should have been a moment of triumph. "But he's clearly not the same person he was when we were kids."
"And neither are you, which is why you're trying to make this right," Ginny assured, giving him a sympathetic expression.
"It's ironic, isn't it? I'm working to get Malfoy out of prison when she'll probably just kill us both the second she wakes up." Harry let out a dry laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "I almost feel bad for the git."
Ginny's lips turned into a wry grin. "I think he knows what he signed up for. He has been the receiving end of her resentment for years, you know."
Harry feigned a considering hum. "I always knew he was mental."
"Or maybe it means he caught feelings." Ginny quipped before giving him a small smile. "They are wonderful together, Harry. He's good to her."
But Harry knew. He saw it first hand when her life was in danger. When she kept focus on him while he kept her from slipping away and the rest of the world disappeared. Yet, there was still something that wasn't adding up.
"But I don't understand why he was so persistent in having me take him in?" Harry prompted, confusion written plainly on his brow. "If only he'd hand over the memory..."
Ginny's expression shifted suddenly.
"Actually, Blaise told me something interesting that might be relevant," she dispelled quietly. Harry glanced around for any unwanted ears before gesturing for her to continue. "He didn't know the specifics but Malfoy's apparently tried before. Said he's...struggled to provide it but wasn't able to elaborate."
Harry gave her a peculiar look. "You mean he won't—"
Ginny shook her head. "I thought the same, but he explicitly said he couldn't."
There was always a risk associated with extracting a memory. It was, in some ways, an invasion of privacy and could not be forcibly taken. The process wasn't entirely painless and in excessive amounts could increase the risk of someone's mind to become unreliable or unstable. In conclusion, it was perfectly reasonable some wizards declined the offer outright and why the Ministry preferred not to default to memory extraction. Not being able to provide a memory was something new. He was still learning more and more about magic and its many exceptions to the rules. Thankfully, he had friends who were far more well-versed with the world.
"Is that typical?"
"Maybe for someone who has memory deterioration or is unresponsive," she explained, "not for someone young, mostly sane and otherwise healthy."
"You...you don't think he's dying, do you?"
Ginny gave a knowing grin that made him regret asking. "From what Hermione told me, I highly doubt it." At his groan of repulsion, she laughed but eventually, her grin faded and her expression turned contemplative. "Luna did think he'd been looking ghastly lately."
His head jerked up to attention. "Luna said that?"
Ginny shrugged dismissively. "I thought he looked fine, but you know how she can be."
Oh, indeed he did.
He knew how insightful Luna was and how she saw the world differently from most people. In those regards, he understood her better than anyone else. If Luna thought Malfoy had been looking ragged lately, maybe he knew this was coming and was trying to do something about it. But this required further digging and it was far too late in the day to start down another path, let alone getting someone else involved.
"I'm glad you're warming up to them," Ginny commented, taking him out of his head.
Harry shrugged. "Zabini's comfortable with you," he noted before taking a pregnant pause. "And you, with him."
In an instant, her expression turned into one of warning. "Harry," she cautioned.
"I'm not insinuating anything," he clarified. "Just making an observation."
Ginny's lips tightened slightly. "He's a good friend. They all are," she added.
Harry nodded solemnly before turning his attention to Hermione, taking in her stillness. Recognizing his need for a moment alone, Ginny gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before exiting the wing. Harry took a seat next to her bedside and took one of her hands in his. Warm and pulsing. He took a moment to collect his words by filtering through everything he felt in the past week. Excitement. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Regret.
"You just had to make everything difficult, didn't you?" No response. "You just had to get involved with the arsehole who ridiculed us, despised us, for years," he expelled harshly before steadying himself. On one hand, he was annoyed that he felt no sort of gratification from solving their first case. Especially now that he had adequate proof and a confession from the one person who he'd been looking forward to paying for his actions. Except he couldn't feel further from satisfaction now that he knew the truth. Perhaps he shouldn't have dug so deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have reacted so strongly.
Maybe he should have looked the other way.
"You just had to bring out a better side of him and make me doubt everything I thought I knew about him," Harry muttered softly.
You refused to listen. First, to her, then me when I said I could help.
No.
He wouldn't make that mistake again.
He'd find a way to make this right.
"You need to wake up, Hermione. You need to know I never meant to put you in this position and I—" Harry choked briefly, "I never wanted you to get hurt, and I will spend however long making this up to you but you need to wake up," Harry paused to collect himself, wiping away the dampness before it showed. "He's in trouble, Hermione. I fucked up and well, technically he did too, but that's not the point. Point is, I have a promise to keep. And so does he."
I'll tell you everything, he'd told her before they were forced to part.
"We'll find a way to get him out," he assured softly while rubbing the back of her hand. "And after you inevitably forgive him, maybe you can find it in you to forgive me as well."
✦·*·✦
Approximately 41 hours ago
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The walls were cold and the air was stale.
The only light that crept in was through a small window on the far side of the room. Which he could reach if he weren't being held back by a restrictive ward, or chained by the wrists and ankles.
Of course, these were details he quickly picked up on once he regained consciousness in this wretched place.
He cursed to himself. He should have known better than to trust anyone. Especially the one who gave him false promises and made him dare to hope that he could have a second chance. Hope that he deserved to live happily with her.
All he knew was one minute he was waiting in the booking room and the next, he was being ambushed. It wasn't his fault that the one who grabbed him from behind was in the way of a pointy elbow. It also wasn't his fault he fought back when they refused to answer where they were taking him. Then there was a sharp, blinding pain from behind before darkness took over.
Next thing he knew, he woke up here. And if the stench and isolation were any indication, he could probably guess where 'here' was.
He'd been sitting in silence for the past few hours. Using the droplets from the leaky faucets as time indicators since they confiscated all his belongings, including his time piece.
As well as his clothes which had been replaced with hideous, striped rags. And yes, the floor was also freezing, which was far more uncomfortable with bare feet.
Oh, he hopes he finds whoever dared touch his shoes so he could wipe them clean with their blo—
His jaw clenched tightly.
Focus, Draco. Focus.
His eyes closed as he forced himself to not let the intrusive thoughts win and solidify his time here. No, he had to concentrate on getting out of this situation.
Someone had written into the walls that every drop from the faucet was roughly eight seconds apart. Which if he'd been keeping track correctly...
Thirty four drops...
Nearly four and a half hours passed since he woke up.
He'd already spent half that time trying to find a way out once he shook off the throbbing pain in his head. Given the unsettling quiet and extra precautions taken to restrain him, he deduced he was in quadrant for the most dangerous criminals who were kept isolated from the rest of the prison. This could be good or bad, he reasoned. Good in that no prisoner could hassle him given who he was. Bad in that if there was trouble, no one would be around to help or hear.
The door opened to a woman he'd never met before. Her glare was as icy as a dementor and when the door clicked shut, the air grew colder still.
Bad, it is then.
"For some reason, I thought you'd be taller," she goaded. Not like he was chained and easily had a foot on her if he were standing. "I do see the likenesses; the hair, the eyes. Though you're much less vocal than your father."
He blamed it on the concussion, but steely eyes flashed. She chuckled cruelly as she walked closer, giving him a once over.
"I told Robards they had the wrong person but no one believed me. I had three aurors quit on me because I 'overworked them' and they claimed I was insane."
Clearly, she was trying to get a reaction from him. He held his tongue. Not knowing who this woman was and her taunts were clearly trying to urge him to slip up so the best option for now was to remain silent. Fortunately, he had experience dealing with worse. Much worse.
Draco pressed through muddled thoughts and the dull pain to retract himself mentally as her eyes trailed along his aloof expression.
Know your enemy.
"Lucius Malfoy didn't have the motive or backbone to do what was done," she continued to taunt. "But I knew this was personal. Who else would harm an innocent who would never hurt anyone? Who better than a prejudiced pureblood who made her life hell in school?" The woman began to pace back and forth. "You did well to hide your tracks. Hiding the body off the beaten path so no one could find her? Ingenious," she mocked. Someone must have done something with the body after he last saw her.
"You've been awfully elusive. Keeping a low profile with daddy in prison while you've been seeing mind healers. Trying to modify your memories, no doubt?"
She was steadily growing angrier by the minute but he also knew she couldn't touch him. Not with these wards in place.
Draco continued to analyze as his mind slowly cleared. These interrogation tactics were shite and she was somehow granted clearance into this quadrant. Which meant she was an experienced auror rubbish at interrogating...or this was personal for her.
"You're also rather bright. Second in your class, consistently falling behind a muggleborn in your year every time. Must drive you mad, doesn't it?"
He resisted the urge to smirk.
Fuck, I've gotten soft, he thought.
"Still don't want to talk?" She shrugged indifferently. "It doesn't matter. We have your wand. We can track the spells." She leaned closer to his face and only then did he see the resemblance. The facial structure. The eyes—striking blue eyes, now devoid of kindness, were once red rimmed and pleading with him to end her life. And if that didn't help him deduce who she was, her next words did.
"The minute I prove you're the reason Claire is no longer breathing and gain the approval from the Ministry, I'm going to make sure you aren't either," she hissed lowly, devoid of emotion.
With a swift turn, she exited, leaving him alone once more.
Despite the...splendid company the auror been, it was the most productive time spent since he'd arrived. Within the past five minutes, he had deduced who brought him here —or placed the order at least—, what her motives were, and that she was going to do everything in her power to ensure he didn't make it out of here alive.