Marked

The Heir

"But Harry!" she breathed, her voice hushed. "We have to - "

Draco clapped his hand over her mouth as Greyback started to wander in their direction.

"Don't," he mouthed to her, and she nodded, her eyes wide.

"Oi," one of the wizards shouted from afar. "Where're you headed, Fenrir?"

Greyback was stepping in closer, his hand raised to the edge of their protective spells; Draco was paralyzed, knowing any movement could give them away.

"These two don't have their wands on them," Greyback called back, sniffing the air, "which means they've left them somewhere nearby."

Draco wondered if the werewolf could feel the threads of the spells that were cast around them, hoping with every fiber of his being that his magic had been strong enough to withstand the intrusion. Draco shifted slightly, angling his hip so that he blocked Granger from sight. Any moment now, their defenses could be breached, and there would be scarcely a moment for him to react. Wandless, up against a werewolf, Draco barely stood a chance - but his thoughts were only on her. Protecting her. Protect her, or die trying.

That was his life now, it seemed.

She fidgeted against him and he held her closer, holding his breath. Greyback moved to bring his hand down - any moment, his fingers would brush the wards, and then -

"What do you brainless shits want with us?" Weasley spat loudly, and Greyback turned, enraged by the insult. "Do you plan to give us a reason for this - this brutality - or is it a crime now to wander about the woods, minding our own business?"

Draco let out a strangled, gasping sigh of relief as Greyback turned swiftly, stalking back towards Weasley. "You insolent - "

The freckled git had managed to distract his captor. "Fuck," Draco breathed, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. "Fuck, I'm not going to enjoy thanking Weasley later - "

"Look at Harry," Granger whispered anxiously, pointing.

Draco couldn't hear the conversation clearly, but it was obvious that despite Weasley's attempt to distort Harry's face - Draco hated to admit it, but Weasley did seem to be quick enough when it counted - Greyback had managed to find Harry's scar, triumphantly revealing it to his fellow captors.

"No," Draco breathed, feeling a sharp pain in his chest at the prospect of Harry being discovered. He was riveted to the spot, his attention unyielding - but he could see out of the corner of his eye that Granger, too, was struggling, trying desperately to fight back tears.

Where would they take him? Greyback didn't have the Mark, so there was no calling the Dark Lord; the other two were clearly also not Death Eaters. They would have to bring him to the Dark Lord, and that could only mean -

"You're taking us to Malfoy Manor?" Weasley shouted, and Draco's stomach lurched. For a moment, he lost the ability to take in air, his body suspended in time as his mind suddenly raced through everything he shouldhave realized before this moment - but hadn't.

Of course it had come to this. It had been too easy so far, hadn't it? Granger had even said so once before. The potential for suffering had been unspeakably great and Draco had barely scratched the surface of all the possible pain there was to be had. Clearly, that was about to change. Of course that mentality couldn't last. Of course Draco would have to choose between two equally terrible options.

And they were equally terrible, weren't they? On the one hand: save Potter, cross the Dark Lord, endanger himself and his family. Or else what?