BREATHE -draco malfoy

twenty four.

Ana sat on her knees, the hard concrete beneath her, hurting her shaking legs. She was turned away from the entrance to the dungeon, her face laid in her hands and her back shaking harshly as she wept, the pain coming at her from all directions. She kept her sobs silent, as not to draw the attention of those above her. Ana did not have much time to dwell on her agony. She had heard them come in, twenty or so people talking right above her head. They were gathering, chatting with enthusiasm and sometimes even laughing. But Ana sat beneath them, coming undone on her knees.

She was about to die. She would be tortured, traumatized, then left for dead before the crowd of Death Eaters. They all had to believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that Anastasia Prince was gone. And Draco had to believe it too. At the thought of his name, Ana felt a scream start to come up from her throat, but she barred her teeth and felt her whole skull vibrate as the sound tried to come out from between her tears and sobs. Her face hurt, having been contorted in agony for nearly an hour, water streaming down her face recklessly. And it had been nearly an hour, and her time was coming soon. Knowing this, she started to hyperventilate, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the loud sound of air rushing in and out. She closed her eyes tightly and remembered Severus' words: This is a sacrifice. When Ana opened her eyes again, she blinked hard once and let the last tear fall. It was the last tear that she would allow herself to shed tonight. Draco was her savior, her home. Even though she was about to hurt him, so very badly, she was reminded that if she didn't do this, he would die. Ana could handle this pain, any pain in fact, if it meant Draco would get to live.

When Ana heard footsteps coming down the stairs, she stood. She wiped the remaining water off of her cheek. She squared her shoulders. To her immense surprise, the shortness of breath that she always got when she was nervous was not present. She was now breathing in a slow, rhythmic pace, even though her heart was efficiently shattered. She set her face into a hard line, not allowing any emotion to creep in. She would not, under any circumstances, give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. Ana stood bravely, turning to face the entrance, just as Wormtail came into view.

---

Draco sat stiffly at his dining room table, watching the others as they filed in and sat around him. His eyes flitted around the room in a panic, a now common symptom of his anxieties. He was stationed next to his father, who was sitting nervously, his eyes glancing periodically to the head of the table, empty now but soon to filled. Lucius was afraid of Voldemort, but Draco was more so. He trained his eyes on the shiny black surface of the table, not wanting to look at the faces around him, so dark and evil and terrifying.

It had been a month since Draco had failed to kill Professor Dumbledore, and even though Snape had completed the task, Draco and his family had been treated like vermin. This was predictable, of course, as Draco's father had failed in retrieving the prophesy and now his son had failed even more so. But something that was not predictable was why Draco had been summoned that night.

Draco shifted uncomfortably as all of the men and women around him took their seats at the table, Voldemort's table. Draco was not generally invited to these kinds of gatherings, at least not recently, as he was a member of the club but not highly valued, ever since the night in the Astronomy Tower. He was nervous, as he had no idea what was going on or why his father had insisted he come downstairs and join them. Draco had dressed himself in his expensive black suit and came down the stairs, against his better judgement. He was wary as he waited for what came next. Draco gazed at the end of the table, the place where Voldemort would soon be sitting, and his mind wandered to the summer after his forth year. The very place where Voldemort's chair was stationed was exactly where he and Anastasia had ate breakfast every morning.

In the first several days after she was captured, Draco had begged his mother in tears to tell him what the hell would happen to Ana. He hadn't cared about controlling his emotions in front of Narcissa, and he had cried openly in front of her, breaking his mother's heart. Draco hadn't seen where Ana had been taken, as Greyback had taken her off somewhere as soon as they had arrived back at the Manor. Draco was, of course, not allowed to follow, and was being closely watched by Bellatrix Lestrange.