Emily Potter - Book 7 - The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 10: Incarceration

At the sound of unhinged laughing and cries of agony, Draco Malfoy woke up in cold sweat, his eyes wide and his wand ready for a duel. He out around his room with only the moonlight guiding his path, once he figured that the noise was coming from a floor below his room, he took his robe and quickly tied it shut.

The cries became stronger with each step he took towards the grand staircase, and as Draco listened intently, he realized that it was what his mother told him to be cautious of – his Aunt Bellatrix. The boy stooped down to his knees, his view limited to seeing a girl with long, dirty blonde hair on the floor, the lower halves of two poorly dressed men, and the floor length black skirt of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Draco was familiar by the two men; his mother had explained it to him one dreary afternoon when the very same men came to Voldemort's meetings. She had told him that they were basically the worst kind of thieves – snatchers, scavengers, dead-beats, and good for nothings, as Narcissa harshly said with a mouthful of brandy, slamming her empty glass on the side table, furious to let such kind of filth into her house.

His take on why snatchers were there in the first place was that Voldemort was growing desperate, frantic enough to seek suck mediocre help.

"Get her up!" A woman's scratchy voice screamed, ordering the two men to pick up the blonde girl by her arms. She appeared rather small, her limbs doing very little for her to the extent that she looked like a rag doll. Draco noted the odd choice of clothing, a colorful eyesore of a sweater topped with denim overalls and star-speckled trainers. "CRUCIO!"

A jet of blinding light hit the girl, making her limbs curl inhumanely, her voice coming out in a strangled scream. Once the curse had finished, Bellatrix told the snatchers to throw her in the dungeons.

"Draco?"

Jesus. The boy cursed himself, his heart pounding madly at the sight of his mother climbing the stairs. Narcissa quickened her pace and approached Draco, "What on earth – "

"Was that Luna Lovegood?" He asked, swatting away her hand from reaching his shoulder, rising back on his feet. "She shouldn't be here, Lovegood knows nothing about the Potters. She was left out of it."

Narcissa's face turned sour, her nostrils flaring. "I am going to ignore what you just said because I simply cannot bring myself to learn how you know that, dear." She dusted off her coat, "Now... If you really must know, no one has made any improvements on the hunt for the Potters or their accomplices. Pray that it stays that way." His mother strode away from him, retiring for the night to her room.

Draco, on the other hand, waited for the snatchers and his Aunt Bellatrix to walk out of the door as they usually did after torturing the wand maker or after a meeting with the Dark Lord. Once he heard the laughter and footsteps slowly fade away, following the slam of the front door, Draco sprang to the kitchen and prepared the necessities for Ollivander and his newly acquired roommate.

It was a routine, almost. The act of filling water thermoses, wrapping sandwiches in tissue paper, and compiling them altogether in a paper bag with fruit seemed like a reflex now to the young man. All he had to do was sneak in before dawn and dusk to smuggle in the food and later retrieve the empty containers. Bringing in food for them during the afternoon was far too treacherous since that was usually the time of day that his Aunt Bellatrix or any other Death Eater would go into the dungeon and have their fun with them.

Draco had thought of running away with the wand maker and Luna Lovegood, but he knew they wouldn't make it that far. And if they were caught, they would all suffer tremendously. He didn't want to risk innocent lives or even die trying – Draco knew that his mother couldn't devote time to feed and heal the prisoners if he were out of the equation.

The young man began to descend the stairs with a basket filled with food and water tailing after him. As he reached the gate, Draco saw the shadows of the old man comforting a small figure. "Lovegood... Is that really you?" A small whimper emerged from the nearest column, the silhouette of an arm weakly coming out of the shadows. "Malfoy?"

He opened the gate and quickly went to her aid, kneeling by Luna's side. Draco did not know the Ravenclaw girl well, but it was all the same when he heard how small and tired her voice had become. Gone was the light, dream-like air that Luna Lovegood was known and loved for – Draco knew that his aunt was all to blame.

"She needs to close up that wound, Mister Malfoy." Ollivander said, his voice quivering. Draco nodded, reaching into his cloak pocket for the bottle. The wand maker knelt beside him and helped Luna lift her wounded arm, tugging the blood-soaked sleeve back to reveal the word blood traitor carved into her skin. "Dittany won't work." She said, her voice breaking into a cough. "It's dark magic..."

"It'll heal you, that's all we hope for now. We can deal with the scars once we're out of here." Draco unscrewed the bottle and began dropping the liquid in moderate amounts across the wound. Luna hissed, using her free hand to muffle her cries. Ollivander consoled her gently, reassuring her that she would be taken care of under Draco and Narcissa Malfoy.

Once Draco had finished sealing the wounds, he screwed the bottle close and left it to Ollivander's possession. "I know I'm the last person you'd want to take care of you – "

"Well, you're smart after all. I'll give you that," Luna snapped, angrily shoving her sleeve down to cover the scar. "You did something to her, haven't you?"

"Pardon?" Draco saw something flare in the girl's light blue eyes. Something almost bordering on fury and pain.

"To Emily." Luna answered, "I saw her during the wedding, we didn't get to talk much – everything seemed to end rather quickly that night with the Minister of Magic having been murdered and all" She took the basket, undoing the cap of one thermos and pouring herself a cup of water. "This is the part where you explain yourself to me."

The boy smirked, propping himself against the next stone column to lean on. "How did you know?"

"I noticed she seemed less stressed... Emily did seem a touch more confused." Luna took her eyes off her now empty cup and looked around the dark, depressing basement she was locked in for Merlin knows how long. "Is this where I'll die, Draco?"

He and Ollivander exchanged looks to which they encouraged the girl to eat. Draco handed them the fruit and the sandwiches, properly emptying the basket as fast as he could. "No one will be dying here. You two will be alright."

Luna nodded, taking a big bite of the sandwich. "Will you be alright, though?" He snorted in response, pouring more water into their cups. "I'm not the one who just went through extensive torture, Lovegood." Draco felt like a perfect ass boasting his freedom beyond this basement, but then again, how much freedom did he have beyond this manor?

"No... You're not. But I would still take what I have right now rather than to help You-Know-Who hunt down the people I love." The girl countered. By this statement, Draco had grown wary, I can't explain to her everything that I've planned. "I'm on your side, believe me."

The young Ravenclaw never spoke to the Slytherin, but she had heard of him extensively from her best friend. But despite the glowing remarks of his intellectual prowess, his remarkable magical capabilities, and astounding loyalty – Luna Lovegood found it difficult to trust anything that came out from his mouth. "I believe in a lot of things, Draco... But right now, you're not one of them."