bachata

x si volvemos

No funcionamos

(We don’t work)

Lo dimo’ todo, pero no se nos dio

(We gave it everything, but we didn’t get it)

Por eso nos vamos

(That’s why we’re leaving)

Pero antes de irnos

(But before we leave)

Vamo’ a hacerlo por el último ve’, bebé

(Let’s go do it for the last time, baby)

-Karol G y Romeo Santos

———

Draco didn’t understand this newfound friendship with Potter one bit. What he didn’t understand even more was why he actually cared about it either. They’d gotten in a small spat regarding the space under the invisibility cloak, since Potter had been scuffing up Draco’s nice italian leather chaps, but Draco found himself apologizing for arguing again, which was completely unacceptable.

Granger, who was currently wearing the face of Bellatrix Lestrange, looked anxiously from side to side. Weasley looked wary, most likely doubting how well his glamour charms were disguising him.

“Potter,” Draco hissed, squeezing the boy’s muscular bicep from behind. “Sigue al Granger, y dile que ella necesita calmarse. Ella necesita que sea más enojada.”

Potter nodded, then passed the message to Weasley, who passed it to Granger. She screwed up her face slightly and stormed right up to the front desk of Gringotts, facing an ancient looking goblin who looked annoyed until he saw who it was. His eyes widened in fear, and he stammered as he spoke.

“W-w-what may I d-d-do for you, M-m-miss Lestrange?”

“I’d like to go to my vault, please.” 

Draco scooted close to Hermione and clocked a well aimed kick at her calf, and whispered, “Meaner!”

“We’ll n-n-need to see y-y-your wand.”

Granger went to grab the stolen wand from her pocket, but Draco tugged Potter closer and gripped her wrist through the cloak before she could draw it out. “Don’t,” he hissed quietly in her ear. “They know the wand is stolen. Bellatrix would’ve reported it. He’ll call Death Eaters if you show it. Push him around.”

“I don’t think so,” Granger said, trying to do her best to keep her voice from quaking. “It’s stolen, you daft ogre.”

The goblin paled, but continued to argue. “You g-g-gave sp-sp-specific instructions to n-n-not let an-an-any-anyone in or o-o-out of the v-v-vault, even if i-it was y-y-yourself, s-so I’m af-afraid I c-can’t let y-you i-i-in, and I w-will h-have to r-report the a-au-authorities, p-per your r-re-requ–”

“Imperio,” Potter whispered, and Draco felt his eyes bug out of his head. “Ask again, ‘Mione.”

“You-you just–”

“Yes, it’s bad, but we kind of have bigger problems at the moment. Ask again.”

Granger cleared her throat. “My vault. Now.”

“Of course, Miss Lestrange. Follow me.”

They went to the back, where a nice polished minecart sparkled, looking regal amongst all the other dirty, rickety carts. “Your private cart, Miss Lestrange,” said the goblin, gesturing for her to enter.

Once they were all in, the goblin slammed the door shut and gave Granger one last look for confirmation, hand on the lever.

“Merlin’s balls,” Draco muttered, and Potter eyed him curiously. “I always hated this part. Motion sickness.”

The goblin pulled the lever sharply, and the cart suddenly lurched forward at breakneck speed. Draco shut his eyes and clutched his stomach, and Potter gave him a look that seemed infuriatingly like it was repressed laughter.

“Potter, not one word,” Draco said through gritted teeth. He had to force the contents of his stomach down again after a particularly nasty turn.

“How the hell can you stay on the broomstick and zoom around as a Seeker just fine, yet you can’t handle a bumpy track?”

“It’s different,” Draco said with an eyeroll, still clutching his angry stomach. “And I never wanted to be a Seeker, anyways.”

Potter frowned, looking exceptionally curious. “Why didn’t you want to be a S–”

Suddenly, they were thrown from the cart and they all nearly splatted to their death if Granger hadn’t thrown a quick Cushioning Charm at the very last second. Draco was the first to stand, but he immediately doubled over and expelled his lunch all over the mouldy brick floor. Potter was annoying enough to rub it in by pushing Draco’s hair back out of his face with one hand and patting his back with the other. Draco would’ve slapped the dolt if he hadn’t been preoccupied with intense projectile vomiting.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” Weasley groaned, then looked over to Granger. “I might not be the brightest one here, but isn’t the Polyjuice Potion supposed to last a bit longer?”

“The Thieve’s Downfall,” said a winded Granger, who was pulling her wild hair back into a knot.

“The hell is that?” asked the ginger, rubbing his temples.

“Wipes off all charms, potions, and tricks. It’s meant to expose any frauds,” Draco responded, finally regaining his balance. Granger raised a silent eyebrow in question, and Draco gave her a playful smirk. “What? You’re not the only one who actually bothered to read or pay attention in class. I’ll have you know that my class rank in our year was second place.”

“Right below mine,” Granger teased. “You didn’t want to be a Ravenclaw either?”

“Oh, my parents knew I had the brains to be one, but I reckon the Sorting Hat was also well aware of the fact that my father would’ve killed me if I’d gone in any other house than Slytherin. He said that Ravenclaw had the highest number of Muggleborns out of all the houses, so that was never in the question to begin with. Besides, I make a better Slytherin, anyways. Brains and cunning go hand in hand, but we’re also known to be hard and determined workers when it comes to our own self gain, which is far more than most Ravenclaws could say for themselves.”

Granger seemed to look at him with an expression that was a little too close to pity for Draco’s tastes, but the goblin had finally woke up and provided a distraction for them all.

“What are you lot doing down here?” squeaked the goblin. “Thieves! Thieves! Th–”

“Imperio!” Potter said again, hitting the goblin with the Unforgivable for the second time.

Draco looked appalled. “Potter, you’re evil, you know that?” Then he gave him a slight smirk. “Self serving after all. You wouldn’t have made a half bad Slytherin. I’m starting to like you a bit more now.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “When you said that, I think I could feel the bile rising in my throat. Now, let’s find that vault. We’ll be in and out.” Potter suddenly turned to the goblin. “Show us to Bellatrix’s vault. And keep us all alive while you’re at it.”

The goblin smiled whimsically and spun on his foot, walking towards a large chamber, where a blind albino dragon on a chain prowled in a circle. 

Weasley gasped and stepped back, and Potter’s eyes went wide.

“No wonder this place is impossible to break into,” Draco whistled appraisingly. “They really do have everything down here.”

The goblin grabbed a bell from behind a wall torch and began to shake it violently. At the sound, the dragon instantly recoiled against the left wall, revealing an entrance to more vaults.

“Oh, that’s sick,” Draco winced, trying to not look at the dragon as he crossed the stretch with the others.

Potter looked at him curiously. “What’s sick?”

“Look at the scars on the sides of his ribs. That particular jagged pattern is a tell-tale sign of the Cruciatus Curse. They’ve trained the dragon to obey with pain. Every time it hears the bell, it thinks it will be struck.”

 Potter looked surprised at the sentiment. “Wow… I didn’t know you cared.”

At first, Draco was ready to hit the oaf with a petty comeback, but after a long pause, he just sighed in defeat. “I didn’t always,” Draco admitted. “Not until I was the one on the receiving end. I still pretend that I don’t care. Weakness isn’t something I share with others. But I guess I’m at your mercy anyways, so fuck it.”

“Empathy isn’t a weakness,” Granger said, smiling encouragingly.

“Secrets are.”

Before Potter could question anything, Draco suddenly cleared his throat and pointed to an ominous looking door with an intricately designed lock. “That’s the one,” he said. “I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s right by ours.”

Potter gave Draco a questioning stare, but ordered the goblin to open the vault. Draco explicitly ignored Potter’s stupid analyzing eyes, so Potter did something even more annoying and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“I know we don’t have the best past, but you can still talk to me.”

Draco shrugged his shoulder off and scoffed. “Please. I’m not some wounded animal in need of saving.”

Potter shrugged, but Draco knew that he wasn’t about to drop the subject. It would just be postponed for later. Why’d he have to open fat mouth? The last thing he needed was the pity of the bloody Chosen One.

When they walked into the cell-like vault, Weasley whistled and looked at a shiny ruby necklace. “Not bad. I’m sure Lestrange wouldn’t notice if a few things were missing…”

Draco quickly smacked Weasley’s hand and glared at him. “Don’t. Touch. Anything. Bellatrix has this place packed to the brim with illegal curses, charms, and wards. If you grab anything, we’ll all be buried alive underneath burning loot, and I really don’t feel like dying in my aunt’s vault today, thank you. Look for a goblet with a large ‘H’ on it. Once we’ve got it, we’ll need to get the hell out of here and fast. Got it?”

“Who died and put you in charge?”

“That guy,” Draco said sarcastically, pointing to a charred skeleton on the floor. “Believe me now?”

Weasley gulped but said nothing, instead turning around to look for the item in question. Granger and Potter got to work, examining all the shelfs and crevices.

Suddenly, a loud popping and clattering noise echoed throughout the cell, and Draco spun on his heel.

“Which one of you idiots grabbed something?!”

There was more clattering, and Granger covered her face. “It was an accident!”

“We need to hurry our arses, or we’re all dead!”

Potter got burnt by a duplicating platter, and he yelped and crashed backwards, causing more trinkets to duplicate and fly in all directions. The floor was quickly covered by burning treasure, and Draco immediately took his nice shoes off and held them in his left hand. Suddenly, a large goblet shone in the back, and Draco gasped.

“Potter, get me up there! Now!”

Draco was suddenly hit with a dubious Levitation Charm, but it was enough to float him up there so he could reach it. The chalice was so large that it required two hands to grab it, though, and Draco groaned, looking at his shoes.

“Damn it all to hell…” Draco swore, holding the cuffs of the chaps with his teeth and grabbing the Horcrux. Suddenly, all the duplication ceased, and everyone gave a collective sigh of relief.

Potter finally brought Draco down, and they all left the vault.

The goblin was missing.

“Oh, shite,” Draco muttered. “Your Imperius wore off. He’s probably gone off to get Aurors. We’re fucked. Gringotts is a No-Apparation point. We’re stuck here.”

Draco set down the goblet, put his shoes on, then laughed maniacally. “If I’m dying, I’m dying with my good shoes on.”

“I have an idea,” Granger whispered. “But it’s kind of insane.”

“We’re literally about to die, ‘Mione, at this point, I think something is better than nothing.”

“Agreed,” Potter said, putting a hand on Granger’s forearm. “We trust you, Hermione. Get us out of here.”

“Alright,” she winced. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”