Chapter 50 Draco
Chapter 50 Draco
Draco stepped into the manor carefully. He felt lightheaded. He’d been wrong, he thought they were gone! It was supposed to be safe. He’d pushed it too far this time, carelessly risked Dudley’s life and now it was over. It was over for them both.
Adrenaline coursed through him, he could barely hear or comprehend the words Voldemort was aiming at him. He left Dudley outside hoping to put as much distance between Voldemort and Dudley as he possibly could. He walked swiftly across the room directly towards them; Voldemort, Bellatrix, his father and another wizard that Draco didn’t recognise.
His father glanced to Voldemort, then stepped forward and indicated to the wizard on his left.
‘Draco. This is Ilya Ivanov, he’s here for the muggle.’ Lucius grinned knowingly in Draco’s direction. To everyone else it was just a grin but to Draco it was a gilded dagger ripping through the fabric of his soul.
He wanted to collapse but instead he politely offered Ilya his hand and a dignified nod of his head.
Ilya Ivanov was large much taller than Draco. He had a slimy look to him, like he had evolved from toads rather than apes. Ilya glistened in the silvery light of the room. He had pale greasy hair that stuck limply to his shiny skin. His features were too small for his face, it was like he had been drawn by a child who had yet to figure out proportions.
‘Ilya, this is my son Draco.’ Lucius said.
‘A pleasure.’ Ilya smiled revealing a set of yellowing, plaque covered teeth.
‘Join us Draco.’ Voldemort announced, it was a command, not an invitation.
The group continued through the house in a tense silence. Voldemort’s bare feet slapping on the tiled floor.
Draco could feel his heart beating in his ears but he kept his face impassive. He needed a plan, when Dudley wasn’t in the cell Voldemort would immediately send out a search party. Hopefully Dudley had run back to killer and they were already making their way deep into the forest, away from all of this. He begged the universe, pleaded with gods he didn’t believe in to just keep him safe. Please keep Dudley safe. He repeated it in his head like a prayer.
As they descended the stairs Draco was barely inside his own body, he knew he was walking but he couldn’t feel his legs properly.
Draco was at the back of the group as they walked the dank corridor in the direction of Dudley’s empty cell. Draco was braced for a gasp or a furious shout from Voldemort as he realised his prisoner was AWOL but it never came.
‘Good evening Mr Dursley’ Voldemort hissed with mock courtesy.
Draco lifted his eyes from his feet and looked up to see… Dudley. There he was, inside his cell, like he’d never been gone.
Draco’s brain short circuited, had he imagined their whole evening with killer, was that a dream? Dudley was stood at the bars of his cage looking solid and determined. Draco was equal parts relieved and shattered. He had grasped onto the image of Dudley storming away into the forest with killer, far away and safe. To see him here, a captive zoo animal again, Voldemort’s plaything confined by metal and stone was almost too much to bear.
Suddenly the presence of Ilya was less of an inconvenience, it was now a huge panic-inducing problem. Why was he here? What was he going to do? Draco couldn’t watch them hurt him again, he just wasn’t strong enough for that. Unconsciously he stepped forwards in between Dudley and Ilya.
He gave Dudley this best ‘what the fuck?’ Look. Dudley gave an almost imperceptible shrug back at him.
‘Evening.’ Dudley said simply.
Voldemort leered at Dudley like he was something to eat.
‘Ilya?’ Voldemort beckoned Ilya forward.
‘We might have a solution to our little problem Mr Dursley. Ilya here has been cooking up something special for me. An enhanced and adapted veritaserum designed to reveal the deepest of secrets. Secrets that might have been forgotten or suppressed by their owners themselves.’
Ilya reached into the inside pocket of his cloak and revealed a small vial of muddy looking liquid. It was a thick sludge, brown and gritty. It looked like it had been collected from the bottom of a swamp. Veritaserum was usually viridian green with the consistency of water. Whatever Ilya was holding was certainly not normal veritaserum. Bellatrix was practically vibrating with excitement next to Draco. Lucius stood steadfast with a look of smug satisfaction.
Voldemort waved his wand and a heavy wooden chair appeared behind Dudley.
‘Sit.’ Voldemort instructed.
Dudley looked at the chair. Draco could hear the cogs turn in his head. Debating the merits of fighting this. But he came to the same conclusion Draco did. There was no escaping this. Dudley sat. As he did thick rope secured his feet and wrists to the wood. Similarly something tightened in Draco’s chest, it felt like those ropes were also tightening around Draco. Dudley winced at the tightness, the rope was cutting into his skin, Draco could see it whiten where the ropes were digging into his flesh. The dread was a physical pain. Draco just wanted this to be over, finished. He wanted to time travel into the future. He could not see Dudley in pain again. Each time it happened it was worse. Another reminder of Draco’s failure to protect him.
‘Ilya. Would you do the honours?’
Voldemort asked him like he was offering Ilya the opportunity to cut a cake at a party, not torture a teenager in a dungeon.
Ilya apparated into the cell with a crack. He unstoppered the vial with a pop and approached Dudley. He hovered with the vial above Dudley’s mouth waiting for him to open up. Dudley parted his lips slowly and Ilya went to tip the sludge into his mouth. Before it could touch his tongue Dudley darted like a striking cobra and bit Ilya’s hand. Ilya roared in pain and dropped the vial. He attempted to pull his hand away but Dudley wouldn’t let go, blood was dripping on to the floor.
Before Draco was able to get his head around what was happening Voldemort flicked his wrist and Dudley went limp, he flopped forwards in the chair releasing Ilya’s hand. Ilya grasped it back, howling in pain, he fell to the floor in agony. His hand a bloody mess. No-one moved to help Ilya, and he huddled to wall, grasping his hand which continued to drip blood onto the floor and stain the front of his robes.
With another wave of his wand the smashed glass of the vial picked itself up from the floor and fused back together. The liquid then pooled into one puddle and levitated itself back into the vial in one smooth motion. The vial then hovered in the air above Dudley’s limp body. Voldemort sighed with irritation.
There was a beat of silence between them punctuated only by Ilya’s wet sobs.
Then Lucius spoke.
‘Perhaps Draco should take over.’ He suggested, looking to Ilya who was still whimpering against the wall.
Voldemort nodded silently.
Draco’s temporary relief was instantly gone. He didn’t know if he had the strength in him to apparate. He felt like he might fall over. He desperately tried to think of something he could do to stop all of this. There was just nothing, it was like trying to stop an avalanche.
He attempted to apparate and was surprised to find himself inside the cell, his head was swimming but he managed to find his feet. He contemplated apparating them away but if he didn’t get it right, they would know Draco had been lying, he wasn’t confident he would be able to get the both of them out, his brain was fuzzy and unfocused. It would never work. He plucked the vial from the air with a shaky hand. Veritaserum didn’t usually hurt unless you resisted it. He held onto that fact tightly.
Dudley was doubled over, Draco had to push his torso with both hands to lean his body back in the chair. Dudley was big, he was muscular and heavy. To push his limp body back in the chair was difficult.
He could see Dudley’s eyes once he was leaned back. He was awake in there. He was looking right at Draco, his eyes filled with love and longing. They connected for that split second, communicating so much. With just one look Draco apologised, Dudley told him it was okay and they both said they loved each other. Dudley’s face was smothered with Ilya’s blood. He looked like a vampire, it dripped from the side of his open mouth. Draco loved that even now, even when the full weight and power of Lord Voldemort was against him Dudley found a way to fight him, even if it was small and ultimately futile, he made sure that he showed Voldemort he was not weak.
Draco dug his fingers into Dudley’s hair. To the onlookers it was a way to hold his head still as he poured the potion into Dudley’s mouth. But to Draco it was a caress, filled with regret and love and apology. Draco reluctantly tipped the swampy liquid out of the vial, it fell out in one large viscous lump and landed in Dudley’s open bloody mouth.