Chapter 7
Someone grabbed Draco’s shoulders, shaking him awake. He opened his very tired eyes to see Fleur leaning over him. A yawn escaped his mouth. Lazily sitting up, he took in her full appearance. Fleur looked tense. With furrowed eyebrows and her mouth a hard line, Draco would have never dared to argue with her about anything.
It was also weirdly quiet in the flat. Where was Bill? Peksy?
He opened his mouth but she shushed him before tugging at his arm. Draco slowly rose from the couch and let himself be led out of the living room on quiet feet.
Since Bill interrogated him, he has been dozing off on the couch, content to escape reality for a while. After eating pancakes, of course. He had felt very content, even given his situation. Confiding in the Weasley guy wasn’t such a bad idea. He was nicer about the whole thing than he expected, although the bar was super low already.
It might have been two or three hours after breakfast when he was woken up. Looking at Fleur felt unreal. Not only was she enticing, but it has been months since someone else woke him up without actively threatening him.
Fleur behaving weirdly was now the cherry on top, suddenly dragging him out of the living room. In all honesty, who sneaked around their own house in the middle of the day?
“What is going on?” he whispered. He had a bad feeling.
Fleur didn’t falter. “There are Death Eaters outside. We spotted them earlier, despite their disguise,” She explained in a quiet voice. Draco’s mouth dropped open and he stumbled over the threshold.
“They can’t come inside because we installed wards, but it won’t take long until they figured out how to break them down.”
It didn’t take them very long to find him. He should have kept moving, should have known it was a stupid idea to crash at a comfortable place for a night.
Now it wasn’t only his life that was in danger, Bill and Fleur’s were too. Two more deaths on his conscience. He couldn’t deal with that- He couldn’t believe he ever thought he would be capable of killing Dumbledore. Jokes on him.
They reached an inconspicuous door right next to Bill and Fleur‘s bedroom when she came to a stop.
“Alohomora” Fleur swung her wand and the door clicked open. She held the door open for him to step through and shut it hurriedly behind them, effectively shutting out the light as well.
Bill was in here with them. His wand emitted a soft light-ball. His face looked creepy in the flickering lighting.
As far as he could see this was a regular storing room. There was a broom right behind Bill and several cleaning supplies. Were those really necessary in a magical household? He had no idea. At no point in his life has he sunk so low that he cleaned himself.
“This is the only windowless room” Fleur said apologetic. Their body almost touched, that’s how cramped it was. Draco shuffled around, trying to make more room for himself.
“So, they are coming to kill me?” His voice almost broke off.
Bill and Fleur looked conflicted. “We might have a plan,” Bill said slowly. “But you have to promise us something very important-”
“Where is Peksy?” Draco interrupted. “Did they kill her, where is she??”
“Hey,” Fleur looked at him strangely, “Deep breaths. She is not dead, we sent her away. She already agreed with our plan.”
Fleur sent her away. She is somewhere out there, hopefully safe. And totally not dead.
He hugged himself, trying to breathe evenly like Fleur told him to.
But could he really trust Fleur?
“Did you hear what I said?” Bill’s voice seeped through to him.
Draco shook his head once.
“We can save your life, but you must agree to a blood pact.”
He cocked his head. “How- how is that supposed to help me?”
“There is a location where you would be completely safe from any Death Eaters,” spoke Bill slowly, “but we cannot let you go there unless you agree to some ground rules.”
“Via the blood pact…” he breathed.
Fleur clenched her jaw. “Get on with it, we don’t have much time!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sent a worried look to Bill, as far as he could make out facial expressions in this bad lighting.
“I promise it’s fine,” he told her in a tight voice, before turning back to Draco.
“You must agree that you won’t snoop around, you keep away from everybody and you won’t talk about what you might’ve seen or heard to anyone. And I mean anyone. This is top-secret.”
Draco searched his brain for a hint of what Bill hinted at but came up blank. There was only confusion.
“Yes, whatever. I don’t care.” He said hurriedly. It felt like he could feel the Death Eaters creeping up on them, breathing down their necks. Always coming closer to catch him.
“So you’re agreeing?
“I’m agreeing.”
Draco saw Bill nod at Fleur, who took Bill’s hand and mumbled Diffindo. A neat cut appeared on his palm. One drop of blood rolled down his hand and fell on the floor.
He looked from the cut to Fleur and back.
“Do I have to do this too?” he squeaked.
“You do it or you die.”
Bill jabbed Fleur reprimanding in the side.
Suddenly they heard a loud crack from outside. It made Draco’s blood run cold.
The wards were breaking ever so slowly.
He held out his hand to Fleur. “Do it, do it, do it!” he urged her. He didn’t even care anymore.
“Diffindo.”
Draco hissed and held his arm tight. The cut wasn’t deep but it stung all the same.
Bill forced their hands together, interlacing them effectively. The sensation of the warm blood next to Bill’s cold hand made his skin crawl.
“I swear to protect you from anyone who wishes you dead and that I will do my best to keep you safe, so long as you do not betray my trust.”
It was quiet for a moment. Draco tried his hardest to overplay how wet his eyes have gotten at Bill’s words. What has gotten into him?
“Your turn” Fleur whispered to him. Right. Now he had to make his oath.
“I swear,” he coughed, “I swear to keep what I might hear or see in that safe location a secret from any outsiders. Uhm…” He forgot the rest.
Before he could ask what else he was supposed to swear an oath to, two glowing drops of blood raised from their palms and mingled into one. A phial took shape around it, enclosing the drop.
“Good enough” he heard Bill sigh before he took the phial.
“Did it work?” he asked nervously.
Both nodded.
Boom.
Draco’s blood ran cold. With wide eyes he stared at the two adults in the room.
“Now, now, now! Take him, leave it up to me!” Fleur urged Bill who shook his head.
“I’m not leaving you here-“
“You have to! I promise you that I will be fine.” She kissed him first on the forehead and then on his mouth. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Bill breathed. “I believe in you. See you in a couple of hours.”
Draco was grabbed (he really was grabbed very often) and the by now very familiar sensation of apparition overcame him. Next thing he knew, he stood in a street. Nothing remarkable caught his eye, except that the houses all looked the same. Magic seemed to be very foreign in this neighbourhood. It felt dull and lifeless.
Bill showed him a piece of paper. “Read quickly and memorise.”
It said: The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
What was the Order of the Phoenix?
“Got it?” Bill snatched the paper out of his hand. “Now say it out loud.”
“Why-“
“Just do what I say for fucks sake!” yelled Bill. “My girlfriend might already be dead because of you, so get on with it, before they kill you here out in the open and it was all for nothing.”
Draco shrunk back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Ahem. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at… number twelve? Grimmauld Place, London.”
“That’s it.”
For a second nothing happened.
“Why did I have to-“ he began.
Then the houses started moving. Another house seemingly emerged from the ground, pushing number 11 and number 13 to the side as it appeared in the middle of them.
“Welcome to Grimmauld Place 12,” muttered Bill darkly. He walked up the worn front steps and Draco hurried after him.
The old door had a silver knocker in the shape of a serpent, but no keyhole, handle or anything that indicated that it was a door.
Bill tapped his wand against it and it swung open with a groan.
The open door revealed a grand hallway, almost as grand as the foyer in Malfoy Manor. Where his mother died. Never mind that.
Before he could get a proper look at everything, he was pushed into a corner.
“Is this your hiding place?” he questioned in a hushed voice.
Bill didn’t answer him and instead tapped his wand once on his head. Suddenly it felt like an egg has been cracked on his head. He felt the sensation travel down his body. One look at his body confirmed his speculation- Bill successfully made him a Chameleon.
“Awesome” he whispered shakily. Bill put a finger on his lips.
Of course, he had to be quiet.
“Keep to the walls” he mumbled to him before striding through the foyer with confidence. Draco opted to follow him.
Everything was dirty and rundown. What was this place?
The lit gas lamps on the wall flickered gloomily on the cobwebs and portraits covered in dust.
On one side of the hallway was a closed door, but light shined through the gap between the floor and the door. They were not the only visitors. Muffled voices could be heard, they must have cast a Muffliato-spell. It piqued his interest. As far as he knew, only a selected group of people knew of that spell, seeing as Severus invented it. How did these people get their hands on it?
He almost came to a full stop, but Bill pushed on hurriedly.
At the end of the grand hallway a staircase lead to the upper floors. Bill walked purposefully towards it.
As he came closer, he saw the walls have been decorated with a row of shrunken house-elf heads. His stomach turned just looking at them, but technically it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.
Courageously he followed Bill up the stairs.
The house seemed empty. They walked and walked, turned corners and took the next staircase and never ran into anyone. Apparently, everyone assembled in that room on the ground floor.
Everyone, except for a strange person of whom he only heard their footsteps before Bill pushed him into an oriel immediately. He couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the person that came right towards them.
They came to a stop.
„Good morning, Mr. Weasley,“ they drawled.
The voice made Draco’s heart skip a beat. Out of everyone he expected to run into in this weird house, Severus was not on the list. Now he stood only a feet away from him. It took everything in him not to give into his urge to run up to him and give him a hug before pulling away and punching him right in the face for letting his mother die.
Both sounded very appealing to him. Nevertheless, he kept still and didn’t utter a sound. His feet were firmly planted to the floor, almost as if roots anchored them into the hard wooden planks.
“Good morning, Professor Snape,” said Bill, “How are you on this fine day?”
Severus sniffed. “I’m not interested in small talk. Your mother has been looking for you. She requires you to attend today’s meeting. Now if you will excuse me, I have important… matters to attend to.”
“Of course,” said Bill and watched Severus stalk away, his black robe flaring with the force of his walk. “I will check in with my mother in a second!” he called after him.
Draco held his breath when he walked by the oriel he stood in. He looked after his retreating figure, couldn’t take his eyes off him, until he turned a corner and left his vision field. Couldn’t believe he just saw him in the flesh, couldn’t believe he partially blamed the man for Mother’s death, couldn’t believe he wanted his attention despite it.
That Severus was here in this weird house at least meant he wasn’t involved in the attack at Bill and Fleur’s flat. He hated how this thought lifted a big pressure off his chest.
“Come on,” muttered Bill and tugged him along, causing Draco to stumble after him.
“Why is he here?” he croaked. Searched Bill’s face for any hint. Any emotion. But his face concealed his thoughts too well to crack.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“Please, I need to know,” begged Draco, but to no avail. Bill’s mouth was just a thin line.
After several minutes of tense silence and two more staircases, they finally reached the end of a long hallway. They were on the fourth floor.
Bill stopped at a door marked with a sign that said, “Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black”.
Draco swallowed audibly.
“Why are we standing in front of Regulus Black’s room?”
“This is the House of the Blacks if you haven’t noticed already. Regulus Black used to live in this very room. It’s the only room nobody would ever dare to enter. Believe me, we have been here for quite some time now and no one has been in here ever.” Bill pushed open the door and entered. Draco followed behind cautiously.
Bills words mirrored the appearance. Thick layers of dust have settled on every surface.
The Slytherin colours of green and silver were everywhere, draping the bed and the curtains and the walls. It made Draco miss the Slytherin common room deeply. It made him miss Hogwarts like he has never missed it before.
The Black family crest was painted over the bed, along with the motto toujours pur. Always pure, a line he has heard countless times in his life.
The whole room was untouched. It smelled musty, too.
“Welcome to your room,” Bill spread his arms slightly. “Wait. Let me remove the disillusionment charm first.” He stepped closer and tapped his wand in the air, a feet away from his body.
“This charm works really well,” Draco remarked.
Bill rolled his eyes. “Just give me your head.”
“No reason to develop bloodlust.” huffed Draco but stepped towards him, nonetheless. After a moment of hesitation he took Bill‘s hand and guided it to his head.
Once again he felt the tap of the wand on his head. Immediately, a warm yet sticky sensation travelled up his body. The charm has been lifted.
He stretched his neck.
“You will stay here. I can guarantee for your safety as long as nobody sees you. And let me tell you, this house has regular visitors. It’s never truly empty, especially not in the holidays.”
“I suppose Severus is not one of those regular visitors?” asked Draco flatly.
Bill studied him while remaining quiet. “This room should be thoroughly aired. I also suggest cleaning up.” He swiped over the desk with a finger before shaking the dust off of it. “I can bring you clean bedlinen later, along with some clothes and toiletries. I still need to figure out how to bring you food but I promise that you won’t starve.”
Draco let his gaze wander around the room. “I’m supposed to sleep in a dead man’s bed? In a room that nobody’s been in for years? Don’t you think it’s quite disrespectful?”
Bill cleared his throat. “There is no other option. Quit complaining, seriously. Regulus and you are very similar, if you think about it.”
“Because we’re both Death Eaters?”
“Well… yes.” Bill shrugged. “While it’s been fun showing you your room, I have to get back to Fleur now to check if she is still alive. Also tell my mother that I won’t be able to make it today. See you soon.”
In a matter of seconds, he was gone. He hadn’t even had time to say goodbye himself. Of course, rushing home to help Fleur against some Death Eaters that decided to raid their flat because they have been housing Draco for a night was more important than him. And yes, he knew it was his fault. Bill’s words still hurt.
He almost wished Bill threw the door shut so that the slam would reverberate in his head. Now it felt like Bill has never been here with him.
In a moment of childish defiance, he kicked against the bed.
He scoffed. How stupid. How stupid the world was. How stupid life was. He hated it so much. He hated Bill and he hated Severus and he hated Father. He hated this disgusting smelly room with the disgusting dirty windows and the disgusting dust that covered everything.
He stalked to the one window in the room and flung it open. He leaned out and took deep breaths of the warm, clear air. It felt good.
He stood there, taking in the view of other terraced houses that looked exactly like the others. Not very exciting, but better than the room he now stayed in.
Sighing, he let his gaze wander over the mucky room. It was time to start cleaning.