Chapter Text
July 2001
Ringing. The only sound in the room was a very slight ringing, which was only getting louder and louder by the second. Salt…and something else, the scent lingered heavily in the air as if it was draped there on purpose. He licked his lips, coating his tongue with the blood spilling out of his nose and over the curve of his top lip.
Well, that at least explained the “something else” he had smelled. As his other senses were coming back into play he noticed the ringing in his ears had no intention of leaving him alone, settling itself into the folds of his brain as a constant background noise.
Draco couldn’t hear much besides the ringing but he was sure there were at least two other people with him in the room as there was a muffled conversation happening a few feet behind him. As quietly as possible, he attempted to move his arms first, then his long legs, finding both of them expertly bound to the chair he was sitting in.
Muttering a countercurse under his breath he was surprised to find that the ropes would not budge, they were either bound with a charm he was unfamiliar with, or they were tied the muggle way. He wiggled his fingers and toes, feeling slightly reassured that they were all still there, even if a few of them definitely felt mangled and broken and hurt like hell to move.
Finally, he opened his eyes in an attempt to get familiar with his new surroundings. Much to his surprise, the room he was in was much simpler and brighter than he had imagined. He faced a plain white wall, a window on the wall to his left which allowed just a touch of sunlight in through the small opening in the black curtains.
The wall to his right contained a door and if he had to guess, he would assume the wall behind him was also barren and painted a plain shade of white. A dingy looking light fixture was dangling haphazardly from the ceiling above him, only half the lights illuminating. From what he could see, there was absolutely nothing in the room besides himself, the chair he was bound to, and the people conversing behind him.
He hissed a breath in through his teeth as he allowed himself a glance down at his body. His pointer finger and thumb on his left hand were dangling at odd angles and the pinky finger on his right hand looked like it had never been attached in the first place.
Black trousers that once covered his legs were tattered and torn, a long gash billowing down his right thigh exposed a gnarly cut that looked to be to the bone. His wrists had red rings surrounding them, probably from fighting the restraints before and during being knocked unconscious. His robes were gone entirely, leaving him in just his torn trousers and, upon further inspection, an equally torn and bloody black button down shirt.
Despite the ringing, he could hear that the conversation behind him had finished. The silence stretched for only a few seconds before he finally grew impatient with his current situation.
“Anyone care to tell me where the fuck I am?” Draco Malfoy growled out, attempting to turn his head for just a glimpse at who had managed to tie him up. No one answered but he did learn that along with his legs and arms being tied down, he was also restrained from moving his head side to side. Attempting to ball his hands into tight fists, forgetting about the mangled fingers, Draco let out a low pained groan and he could have sworn someone behind him…chuckled.
“Go fuck yourself.” the words practically snarled out of his body as he lurched forward, hoping to tear his way out of the bindings holding him in place. He knew it was futile but he could not resist the urge to be unrestrained.
Draco felt a wand being pressed to the back of his head, right at the base of his skull, and he stilled, barely breathing. More of the muffled mumbling was happening just behind him, much closer than before, and he willed himself to keep his eyes open. Just hoping that someone would come from around the back of the chair. He was already restrained, what did they think him knowing who they were would do?
Suddenly, the ringing in his ears stopped. He let himself release one small sigh of relief as the tension in his body faded ever so slightly. He was able to relish in the silence of the room for one second, that blasted ringing finally completely gone from his subconscious.
“Malfoy.” A familiar voice choked out, disgust coating his tone.
Draco allowed a small smirk to tug at the corner of his lips before he spoke. “Potter,” the word spat from his mouth as if just speaking his name had taken a toll on Draco’s body.
The familiar face of The Boy Who Lived came into view as he stepped from behind the chair. His black, constantly unkempt hair was pushed back from his eyes, longer than it had ever been at Hogwarts. His green eyes shone brightly beneath his round glasses, a stark contrast to his too-pale skin, as if his eyes did not get the memo that they were in an active war. Draco did not fail to notice that the wand did not leave its spot pressed to the back of his neck, yet Potter had both of his hands in his pockets.
“Oh I wonder who could possibly have their wand pointed into the back of my neck?” The blond man remarked, sarcasm practically dripping from the words. “Come on out Weasel, it’s not like you could do any real damage with that broken hand-me-down wand of yours anyway.”
It was never wise to taunt your kidnapper but Draco had spent far too long without being able to make fun of the Dynamic Duo of Dumbasses and he could not miss this opportunity.
A small chuckle sounded off just behind Draco, causing his shoulders to tense up. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth immediately dried up. That was not a sad little Weasel chuckle.
“Granger,” Malfoy said quietly, staring down at his rope burnt wrists in reserved silence after that. He knew she heard him, as her wand ever so slightly pressed harder into his head before falling away entirely. He watched with lowered eyes as she rounded the chair, his vision focusing on her shoes. They were definitely muggle made and way too old. And if his vision wasn’t failing him, at least one size too small for Hermione’s feet. With an inward scoff to himself, he rolled his eyes slightly.
“Malfoy.” Hermione’s voice rang through his ears and rattled through his brain like a bulldozer.
That was always a skill she possessed. It was as if her voice was made specifically to cut through any thought in his mind and push its way to the forefront. It was what made her know-it- all attitude in class even more annoying. Not only was she a show off, her voice grated on something deep within Draco and he had no idea how to make it stop.
He allowed his eyes to flick up for a moment. Just long enough so he could see that her cheeks were sunken in, her eyes lacking that fire he knew from their Hogwarts days, and her hair was as untamable as always.
Draco shook his head slightly, attempting to clear his mind as he stared down at the floorboards. He needed to focus, he was captured by the Order. This was not a game and he could not afford to mess around. Potter and Granger had his wand and his robes, which may have contained quite a few dark artifacts. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a battle in which he was ill prepared.
He did not enjoy it but he had gained and maintained rank in Voldemort’s army pretty quickly. He had people looking at him constantly from all different angles, looking for any sort of weak point so they could exploit it. Make him seem weak in the eyes of the Dark Lord and then take over his spot in the chain of command.
Honestly, it was a waste of everyone else's time. Malfoy didn’t allow himself to have weak points. There was nothing to exploit or report to the Dark Lord. His life was a fine tuned machine, not a cog out of place. Not since the day he killed Dumbledore. That day manufactured a new era of Draco Malfoy.
He knew that nothing would be the same after he cast that first killing curse. His life would be encompassed by Voldemort and the duties he would perform for the Dark Lord. He could not allow himself the luxury of a weak point, the last one had almost been the death of him.
Voldemort had been very clear to Draco when he assigned him this task. Killing Dumbledore was necessary for the success of the Dark Lord. He needed to be dead in order for any future plans to work. Draco, upon killing Dumbledore, would restore the Malfoy name to its former glory within Voldemort's eyes.
A bonus of this was that Draco would quickly find himself right hand man to the Dark Lord. He was a faithful servant of the Dark Lord but he did not hesitate to use his rank and power to ensure that certain aspects of the war would be in his favor.
His eyes darted around the room, taking in his surroundings a little more thoroughly this time. He was still tied to the same chair, facing the same plain wall. The window to his left, which he could see out of his peripheral vision, looked out onto what looked like a beach, small waves crashing lightly against the damp shore. Interesting.
The door to his right was shut but if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could just make out the sounds of muffled footsteps and voices. So they weren’t alone. That means more than just Potter and Granger are aware that he’s been captured. Draco’s jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth together in frustration.
He allowed himself a minute to close his eyes and draw back into his mind, ensuring that his Occlumency hadn’t been affected by his bindings, the wards he were sure were around the room, or any potion they could have given him when he was unconscious. Thankfully, they were still in place. His memories were pushed away and aside to the back and sides of his brain, only to be accessed when he wanted to.
Draco felt the tip of a wand press into his jaw, tilting his head upward. Slowly, he peeled his eyes open, making direct eye contact with a pair of jarringly large brown eyes.
“Yes?” He questioned, a small smirk just ghosting the blond’s lips.
She was awfully close to his face, he could almost feel her breath on his cheeks. He wanted to tell her to get away from him, keep her filthy breath to herself, but he didn’t. Maybe this proximity could prove beneficial to his escape. Clearly he wasn’t getting anywhere by obediently sitting tied up to the bloody chair.
Granger pulled her wand away suddenly, backing away from Draco with her arms crossed and her lips pursed in annoyance. “Honestly Harry,” The young witch began, stuffing her wand into the bun she had somehow pulled her mane of hair into. “I don’t know what you expect to come of this. He’s Malfoy for god's sake!”
Potter nodded his head, his face tense. “I don’t know either. We wouldn’t be here if Moody didn’t think cracking him was important.” He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Hermione’s shoulder. It looked as if just that added weight was enough to knock her over. She desperately needed to eat more, and sleep more, and bathe more, and laugh more. But this was war, she barely had time to breathe.
“Let’s give him a go tomor-” Harry started before he was interrupted.
“Did you idiots forget that I am sitting directly in front of you?” Draco bit out, completely irritated by the Gryffindor love fest that he was being forced to watch.
He rolled his eyes, attempting yet again to mutter a countercurse for his bindings. It was so typical of them to have an entire conversation about Draco directly in front of him. Proper manners were never their strong suit.
“No, Malfoy.” Harry said, irritation lacing his voice. “As much as we both wish we could forget you forever, your ugly mug is sadly tied to my chair. For the foreseeable future it’s mine and Hermione’s job to very specifically not forget you.”
As he spoke, Harry walked closer and closer to Draco. “You see, we know who you are to Voldemort and we intend to find out exactly what he deems important enough to share with his right hand man.”
When the dark haired man finished talking, he was practically nose to nose with his childhood enemy. His hands were gripping Malfoy’s forearms where they were tied to the chair and his heavy breathing was hard enough to blow Malfoy’s blond hair out of place.
Hermione’s hand gently rested on Harry’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. “Come on, Harry.” She urged quietly, pulling him away from Malfoy and across the room to the door. “Like you were saying, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.”
She was looking at him with concern dusting her features, not enough that a stranger would be able to tell but Draco could see it. Granger was concerned by this reaction, his sudden outburst of anger. Maybe Potter was losing it these days, the war taking too much of a toll on him. The thought pulled a small bit of hope to the forefront of Draco’s brain.
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco watched as she pulled open the door, ushering Harry out into the hallway. She didn’t close the door all the way, instead she closed it around herself, blocking her friend from the room. She mumbled a few things to Potter that Draco couldn’t hear from where he was.
Thinking Malfoy couldn’t see her, Hermione took one second to lean against the door with her eyes closed, tension rippling through her face. Then, as if it hadn’t even happened, she snapped her eyes open and walked towards Draco, her face set into a look of pure determination.
“Do not regard this as a kindness, Malfoy.” The brunette spoke, taking her wand out of its hiding spot in her giant ball of curly hair. Before he could question anything, she had flicked her wand at him and said “Brackium Emendo.” Pain seared through his hands as his broken fingers snapped back into place and he let out a small but quite loud yelp in pain. As his eyes refocused, Draco could have sworn he saw just a hint of amusement dancing in Granger’s eyes.
Moving upward with her wand she pointed it directly at his nose, Draco going slightly cross eyed as she did so. “Episkey.” The simple charm fixed his broken nose and the bleeding finally ceased. Thankfully that spell didn’t hurt nearly as much as the one that had fixed his fingers. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have yelped as he did if he had a little warning. He made a mental note to remember that detail.
“I’m going to untie you, but there are a few things you need to know.” Granger said, stepping behind him to the back of the chair.
As she began untying the knots, Draco felt the bindings slowly get looser. “This room is warded. Heavily. You will not be able to leave. If you even attempt to walk out that door the room will not allow it but neither will the guard in the hallway. And neither option is much fun in terms of how much pain will be inflicted.”
The ropes binding his arms fell to the floor and he rolled his shoulders slightly, stretching the tense muscles.
Granger came around to the front of the chair, kneeling in front of him to untie his legs and ankles. Draco was trying to look anywhere but down at the witch on her knees in front of him. He looked over and began to heavily study the window. Being able to turn his head again felt so good.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Malfoy.” She said sternly.
Draco’s head snapped over to her, he opened his mouth to say something in retaliation but nothing would come out. He slowly closed his mouth just as Granger finished untying him. A small look of satisfaction crept onto her face as she stood, brushing off the knees of her pants. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If you need anything, just call for Dobby.”
Hermione turned toward the door, taking a few steps away from Draco. He cleared his throat, and gestured down to the gash along his thigh as she turned back to look at him. She had healed his broken fingers and nose but decided to leave the open wound on his leg? She smirked at him and shook her head. “I was told to fix your bones, nothing else. Think of this as…inspiration to not do something stupid tonight.”
She turned her back to him, stalked over to the door and pulled it open. Speaking to him over her shoulder she said, “Remember when I said to not think of it as a kindness? I meant it.” She stepped out of the room, turning to look at him as she reached for the door handle. “Be a good boy and maybe I’ll think about closing that wound for you.” The door clicked shut and Draco was alone.