chapter forty-four | oliver's interrogation

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Three months.

Three months was filled with nothing but agony for Oliver and his friends at Malfoy Manor. From the long days spent in the drawing room being taunted by Death Eaters to the sleepless nights in the cellar, there was still some difficulty trying to numb the pain.

Of course, Oliver and Eliza were not the only ones who had to endure the torture. Jacob and Andrew also dealt with a few encounters themselves, but most likely didn't have to suffer as much due to the two of them being half-bloods. Then again, it was possible they got it just as bad for being associated with two Muggle-borns.

Every night, the four of them would compare cuts and bruises, which Oliver and Eliza tended to have more to show off.

There had been moments where Oliver passed Mary and Violet in the halls before or after his ridicule with the Death Eaters. When he locked eyes with the girls, all he could see was fear as it took over and controlled their every move. Both of them always kept their mouths shut as they strolled on with the Snatchers.

A part of Oliver was still upset with Mary for her betrayal, even though she explained to him what happened. The other part of him still longed for her, getting to where his dreams consisted of her whenever he was able to get some sleep on the cold floor of the cellar. The thoughts of having her in his arms again would often keep him warm.

One day, footsteps made their way down the stairs, which the four prepared themselves to see who was being taken first. Malfoy appeared at the door, unlocking it with his wand. Once he opened it, he stepped inside and looked down at the four.

"Who's the lucky one to go first?" Jacob practically spat out in a bitter tone.

Malfoy pointed his wand at Oliver. "You. Get up."

Oliver obliged, shooting the blond boy a glare as he made his way towards him. When Malfoy led him up the steps and in the drawing room as usual, he was surprised when Malfoy continued on, heading for the hallway.

"Getting a change of scenery, I see," Oliver spoke up.

"Someone wanted to speak with you," Malfoy stated. "No, not Mary. She's out with the Snatchers."

"I didn't even ask about her."

"No, but you were thinking about her, weren't you?" When Oliver didn't respond, Malfoy kept going. "She's worried about you and your friends."

"Then why doesn't she come down to the cellar and check on us?" Oliver retorted.

"She isn't allowed, according to her mother." He paused for a brief moment, then continued. "It may not seem like it, but she does care about all of you. She's been trying to come up with escape plans these last few months, but she's been on a tight leash with the Snatchers, along with Hamilton."

Oliver let the words sink in. The thought that Mary still cared stuck with him, becoming the only thing he could use as a distraction with what was about to come next.

Malfoy stopped in front of the door to what looked like a study. He slowly opened the door and took Oliver inside. The two were met with a man sitting at a desk with his fingers intertwined as his hands rested on the desk.

The man held a blank expression, nodding towards Malfoy. "Thank you, Draco. You may leave us." When the blond boy obliged and closed the door behind him, the man shifted his eyes towards Oliver.

Oliver studied the man, then quickly realized who he was based on his voice. "You're Mary's father."

The man nodded his head. "Surprised?"

"Not really. The accent gave it away."

He chuckled in response. "Of course, seeing as it's not hard to identify us Americans based on our accents alone."

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