Draya Malfoy

40 - Carry on Camping

"What the fuck is this shit?"

Harry glanced up to see Ron dangling a bit of grey fish from his fork, his face a picture of complete disgust.

"It's called food, Ronald," Hermione bristled, her eyes narrowing at the ginger whinger. "And I think what you meant to say was 'thank you, Hermione, for slaving away over a hot stove whilst I've done nothing but sit on my lazy backside and bitch.' "

Harry closed his eyes, thoroughly fed up with his warring friends. Yes, the food was disgusting, but it was all they had and he would sooner live to see another day rather than die of starvation in the middle of nowhere with these two arseholes.

He knew he should have gone without them. Sure, Hermione had her uses, but Ron was about as useful as a chocolate teapot. Nothing was going to get done with him around.

So he gladly waved Ron off when he stropped off in a sulk.

"Fancy a dance?" Hermione asked when a song played on the radio.

Harry really didn't want to, but she needed cheering up so he obliged.

"Are you thinking about her?" Hermione whispered in his ear as they swayed together in the tent.

He shrugged, not wanting to talk to Hermione about how he felt sick with dread at the things Draya must have gone through. He'd been checking the map, relieved to see that she had at least returned to Hogwarts. Was she safe there though? Would her Death Eater status at least keep her from being tormented?

"I hope Ron will be alright," Hermione trembled, and Harry felt the wetness of her tears soak his shirt.

He couldn't stand it when she cried. He never knew what to say to her.

So he awkwardly patted her on the back. "He'll be fine. Let him vent. I'm sure he'll be back by the morning."

But he wasn't. They waited and waited until they could wait no more. It seemed that Ron had truly fucked off after all.

Git.

******

"You're on Saturday detention again," Alecto Carrow said, throwing down a roll of parchment onto my desk.

My heart sank. I didn't need to unfurl the parchment to know that it contained a list of names. The names of students I was expected to use the Crucio curse on.

I never did though. I never had it in me. Neville Longbottom had been my first 'victim'. When I pointed my wand at him and shouted the incantation, he collapsed and screamed, shaking dramatically on the dungeon floor.

Afterwards, he whispered in my ear, "Thank Merlin those drama classes my nan made me go to paid off."

When I asked what he meant, he had looked at me in surprise. "But you didn't really cast the Cruciatious curse on me. I didn't feel a thing. So thanks for not meaning it."

After that, I would quietly communicate this to further victims, warning them to act their socks off before one of the Carrows step in and do it for real.

They never needing telling twice.

But I was always afraid that I would get too complacent and one day mean it when I cast the unforgivable curse.

I was also afraid that word would make it to Theo or the Carrows and they would put a stop to me doing it, or find another creative way for me to torture the students. So I kept quiet, not even telling Blaise or Pansy who were both disgusted with me for it.

"Torturing children, that's a new low," Blaise had spat.

"I don't exactly have much choice." I muttered.

Pansy didn't talk to me at all, always throwing me a cold look whenever I tried to approach her.

As I had guessed, they were both so angry at me for the previous year. They felt betrayed by me, and couldn't understand why I hadn't confided in either of them.

It wasn't just me. They distanced themselves from all known Death Eaters. It was like we were diseased and they were afraid to catch something nasty.

Death Eater students were invited to sit with the Carrows at mealtimes, ostracizing us further from the others. I spent most of my time with Theo, Crabbe and Goyle, but I hated them and how they seemed to revel in our status.

When Christmas rolled around I sighed in relief. But that relief was soon short lived when I remembered what I was going home to.

Him.

I watched numbly as the train was hijacked and Luna Lovegood was taken. I recognized the Death Eaters at once, and knew that I'd be seeing them later around the dining table.

One even waved to me as though we were pals or something.

Back at the Manor, my father was drunk as a skunk, muttering over and over again about Harry Potter.

"You will tell Daddy if you know where he is?" He slurred, staggering across the room to me when I walked into the drawing room to say hello.

"Where who is?"

"Harry -hic- Potter."

"Of course, Father." I turned my face as he leant down to kiss my cheek, the smell of stale red wine making me retch.

"We will -hic- be rewarded." Father continued, swaying on the spot and spilling red wine everywhere. "The Dark Lord may even give me back my -hic- wand."

I nod, quickly backing out of the room. I remember a time when my father used to be so proud. That man had long gone, replaced by this pathetic mess, and I found myself missing him.

Out in the hallway I heard the screams coming up from our cellar. I listened carefully even though it makes me sick, and I am pretty certain I could hear a scream which sounded uncannily like Luna's.

After kissing my mother goodnight, I went up to my room and locked the door. Then I curled up into a ball on my bed and cried myself to sleep.

*******

Harry was fucking livid.

A wasted trip to Godric's Hollow meant not only was he nearly eaten by a snake, but his wand was now broken.

He didn't say it, but he fully blamed Hermione Granger.

She was still mooning over Ron and evidently wasn't thinking clearly. It had been six months and they were getting nowhere with this mission to save the world. All they'd done is find one lousy Horcrux but with no means of destroying it.

At this rate Harry would die of old age before he can ever get to Voldemort.

He knew he was also in a foul mood because Draya had disappeared from the map. It made him nervous not knowing where she was, even though he suspected she'd simply gone home for Christmas. At least when he saw her footprints moving around he knew she was still alive.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione cried as Harry did a Ron and stormed out of the tent.

But as luck would have it, this led him straight to the ginger prick himself, which really was lucky because Harry had found himself drowning in a pool of water.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?" Ron asked as they lay panting on the ground.

"Getting this!" Harry roared as he lifted Gryffindor's magnificent sword in the air.

Merlin, he was brilliant.

*****