Out of Time

Chapter 36

He spins right and sees the ornate oak door frame leading to Lucius's study. One of their older elves, Ibby, is shaking her finger in Mr Nott's flushed, chubby face, backing him against one of the antique bookshelves. It rattles with his impact, almost toppling a candelabra.

"Yes, Ibby, he certainly is," Draco chimes in coldly, enjoying the way Nott jumps and nearly unseats a decanter on the shelf behind him. "Thank you for watching out for my father's study. I'll take it from here."

Ibby cracks away and Draco shuts the door, sealing it. Nott's eyes glimmer with apprehension and it's only the basic necessity of the question that makes Draco bother asking, "What are you doing in here, Tiberius?"

Draco's familiar use of his first name, a clear insult to a superior, rankles Nott. Good. He gathers himself.

"Seeing if I could find anything about my son."

"Why would news of your son be in my father's study?" Draco advances on him slowly, tapping his wand into the palm of his other hand. "Are you saying my father had something to do with Theo's disappearance? Be very careful, Tiberius."

Maybe Nott suspects something or maybe he's only desperate. Maybe he's drunk and stupid. Draco doesn't care which. He never expected to be faced with this opportunity but now that it's here, he won't let it pass him by. He silences the room and takes another step forward.

Tiberius Nott is a dangerous wizard. There's no doubt. But until this very moment, Draco had no idea how badly he wished for a proper opponent all year, not the scared third-years he'd been tasked with disciplining. It's not about a duel; he has no desire to duel this pathetic man. But he does want to hurt him.

Nott might be more than drunk. He's too slow going for his wand and Draco yanks it to himself without a word.

He points both at the older man. "I don't know where your son is. I doubt you even care, except that he's embarrassed you."

Nott raises both hands, fingers trembling slightly and trying to hide it. "Now, Draco -"

Draco cocks his head. Now that he has Theo's father here, trapped, he'd like to capitalise on it. "Something's always bothered me, Tiberius."

That clearly bothers Nott, Draco's continued use of his first name, and Draco smiles. "Did you kill Theo's mother? Tell the truth."

Nott's eyes dart around for help he won't get, and his throat bobs as he gulps. "It - it was an accident. But why do you care? It was fifteen years ago, and -"

"An accident, the way all of Theo's injuries were 'accidents'? The accident was you losing your temper. Isn't that so?"

Nevermind that Draco has had more than one accidental loss of temper himself in the past year. He's never done anything like what Tiberius Nott regularly did to his family. And gods, what a rush, the way this man is wilting. This Death Eater of the original clan is beginning to shrivel right before his eyes. He pockets his wand and fondles Nott's. Should anyone happen to check, the assortment of curses Draco is planning to use will look better coming out of Nott's own wand.

"What bones should I break first, Tiberius? You rather enjoyed dislocating Theo's shoulders. It was harder to see than an arm sticking out at the wrong angle. Should I start there?"

Nott pulls his arms into his chest as if this could make a difference in either Draco's capability or his decision to cause him bodily harm. It does affect his decision of target, though. At the last second, Draco changes aim and nails Nott right in the knee, which dislocates in one simple swipe. Hm. Not quite what he'd intended, but he is using a wand that isn't his. Never mind; it'll do.