Imminent

As we soared above the town that never loved me, I realised I finally had a family
Soon enough, we reached Neverland, Peacefully, my feet hit the sand
And ever since that day…
(lost boy, ruth b.)

March 2006

When the call for the next attack came, Draco was standing with arms crossed in front of the bulletin board in his office accompanied by Theo, once again going over the collected evidence. Theo and Blaise had matched up wound marks that bore similarities between victims; they calculated there were at least six werewolves, two hags, one vampire, and one giant. At least, that was the estimate of creatures devouring part of the victims. Blaise suspected there were obviously more and suggested they were purposefully having the same creatures do the Maulings. 

This hypothesis unsettled Draco. 

It meant for the past few years, Greyback had been strategic with every victim, ensuring the same creatures  carried out the deed. Though, he felt this gave the Werewolf more credit than due. Theo reminded them that Greyback had done an excellent job convincing everyone previously that he was just a bloodthirsty maniac with only two brain cells. Draco grumbled his agreement, remembering  nights at the Manor when Greyback would show how conniving and deranged he truly was. Some of the despicable acts he carried out were on par with Bellatrix’s depravity.

Draco felt even more unsettled at that thought. 

Regarding what was believed to be a simple Severing charm, Theo was adamant something Dark was used instead. He noted that the cuts were not smooth, clean lines. The edges of skin and tissues curled back from the muscle which in turn curled away from the bones. A few experiments were done on dead pigs to attempt replicating the effects. The last charm was close to causing the jagged edges, but not the curling effect. Theo suggested that there was another element to the charm while the victim was alive, meant to inflict unbearable pain. 

Without a survivor though, they were at a standstill.

“It’s irritating to say the least,” Theo grumbled. 

He pointed to the photos hung side by side that showed the comparison between the victims and the experiments. Extremely similar but obviously not exact. 

“I’ve tried several different variations of words, movements, the usual, even accents. And nothing. Absolutely nothing comes close to matching this curling.”

“It’s not from the body being exposed to the elements? Maybe insects or something got to it?”

Theo shook his head, “No, I already went over all of that with Adrianna to be sure. Blaise tested out some insects he thought might cause the curling. We left several of the experiments that had simple Severing charms in enclosed Stasis bubbles with different biospheres. Couldn’t find anything that comes close. I’m suspecting the curling occurs while the victim is still alive. That might be why I can’t replicate it. And I’m not going to test on a live subject.”

Draco nodded, “That does fall in with Greyback’s preferred methods. You’re looking more troubled than usual when you’re experimenting.” 

Draco carefully observed Theo. The man stood eye level with Draco and Blaise; his brown curls slicked back on the sides with his usual fringe hanging across his forehead. Draco noted how Theo’s stance was tense, like he could spring into action at any second; his usual smirk replaced by a frown and his eyes…there was something wrong…

“Theo, when’s–’

“You know exactly what I’m thinking: if they’ve developed a new torture curse, they’re obviously testing it out. Perfecting it. That means at some point, they’re going to start using it en masse. Probably soon considering how they’ve escalated.” Theo had his arms across his chest, one hand under his chin while he absentmindedly bit his thumbnail and rambled quickly, “And I have no idea what spell causes it so I cannot come up with a counter-curse or anything to stop it. On top of that, this level of work is on par with what my father used. There’s only a few Death Eaters left unaccounted for who could be helping Greyback with this, and if it’s who I think it is–”

There was a swift knock on the office door and it opened in a rush before either man could acknowledge it. Blaise looked grim as he stepped through the doorway. Theo and Draco exchanged a quick look, knowing that he was a messenger with unpleasant news.

“Another one has been found. This time near Hogwarts.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Theo exclaimed while stomping out of Draco’s office. 

Blaise glanced towards Draco, a confused expression adorning his face. Draco shook his head and turned to quickly gather his light coat and wand from his desk.

“He was going on a tangent again about the spell work. Obviously, not amused,” he murmured while walking towards Blaise, securing his wand in his forearm holster. He felt a sense of calm rush through at the feel of the hawthorn wood nestled against his skin. Granger had truly been a visionary when she’d designed the holster. 

Theo came back into the office with a huff as he secured the buttons on his coat.

“Of course I’m not amused. Why can’t they just take a damn break…” he started to grumble until his friends’ stares gave him pause. “What?”

“Theo, mate,” Blaise started, carefully watching Theo, “Honestly, are you doing okay? Have you been taking the proper breaks between the experiments? You’re much more…manic than you usually are when you’re working on a curse.”

“Theo”,”Draco asked slowly to gauge his reaction, “When’s the last time you detoxed?”. 

Theo’s eyes were shifty and Draco could see a hint of something creeping up the whites of his eyes.

“Yesterday morning. But I’m fine. I’ll take a break from experiments for a few days and stay home and rest, all right?”

Draco and Blaise exchanged a look before nodding, not wanting to agitate Theo any further. It was the price they paid for using Dark magic. It corrupted you, seeped into your soul the more it was used. Theo discovered a way to detox and purge most of the Dark, but it never fully went away. Small tendrils always lingered, always slipping into their minds, changing them. Draco was thankful he rarely had to use Dark magic anymore, Blaise as well. 

Unfortunately for Theo, it was literally his job. 

With the current case and how pig-headed he could normally be when a riddle was difficult, Draco worried his friend was going too far. He made a mental note to check on Theo after they secured this scene, ensuring that his friend took proper care of himself. He knew Blaise would as well and if Theo gave them trouble, Draco would just need to lightly threaten to out his little secret rendezvous with a certain redhead…

The three men Apparated, their combined magic leaving behind a burnt spot on the floor of Draco’s office. They appeared at the edge of the grounds at Hogwarts, the Medical and Forensic teams in process of securing the scene with a Stasis bubble. The setting sun cast an orange glow to the grounds. There were no signs of any students nearby. In the distance, lights flickered in the windows of the castle. A gentle wind blew, not quite as biting as it had been. A sign that spring was on her way.

As the men approached, Headmistress McGonagall met them halfway with her hands trembling, trying to still them by clutching her robes. Draco swore that his former professor hadn’t aged since he had last seen her years ago, though her usual furrowed brow remained. She let out a deep breath as she regarded her former students.

“Headmistress,” they chimed together with a nod.

“Oh, gentlemen, you three are a welcome sight even under these terrible circumstances,” she said with a half-smile and turned to walk alongside them to the Stasis bubble. “She was found by a student who was walking along the lake. The poor girl screamed and fainted. Thankfully, another group of students were nearby and alerted a teacher right away. We called everyone back into the castle immediately and went into lock-down.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Draco said softly, he motioned for Theo and Blaise to continue to the scene as he stopped with the Headmistress to inquire further, “Were there any reports of any suspicious persons seen? Anything of an unusual nature?”

She shook her head, “No, there was nothing else. Just the poor soul in pieces.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you know it’s a woman?”

“Her…parts are fully displayed,” McGonagall paled, her hands trembling as she clasped them in front of her in a bid to stay calm. “I have heard that this is not the first one to be found in this manner? Is that correct, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco nodded and kept his face impassive, “Unfortunately. We’ve been on a manhunt for a while now and cannot seem to catch a break. I’m hopeful that my team will bring this to an end soon.”

She nodded, turned to leave, and stopped short to speak in a hushed but warm tone, “It was good to see you again, Mr. Malfoy, even with the unfortunate circumstances. You, Mr. Zabini, and Mr. Nott have truly done well. I know if…,” she took a breath, steeling herself and holding back tears, “I know if Miss Granger were here, she would be proud of you as well.”

He gave her a small smile as she turned and walked back to the castle. Draco let out the deep breath he had been holding at her last comment.

Proud. She would be proud. He certainly hoped so…

Draco shook his head, causing some shorter hairs to fall loose from the short bun. He needed to stay focused, not daydream about her again… 

Though an advanced Occlumens and Legillimens, Draco would still find himself fighting back memories that surged past his walls. He decided that today it would be necessary to Occlude a little more heavily than usual. He hadn’t been back to Hogwarts since the search after the Final Battle and McGonagall’s comment left him rattled.

Draco took a deep breath and looked out over the lake, a calming scene taking shape in his mind. A library, with high ceilings and endless shelves. An inordinate number of books lined the shelves: some with titles, others unnamed. As far back as he could go, there was a shelf with locked tomes adorned with dark covers. There were no titles, no identifying marks on these books. Nevertheless, Draco remembered what they held. 

He quickly separated the recent thoughts and feelings, creating a new book. Fastened with a heavy lock, it settled on the shelf with the others. Holding back yet another deep sigh, he brought himself back to reality, having only taken a few minutes to calm his racing mind. 

He felt serene but detached. Draco’s mind cleared of what he considered distracting thoughts; right now, he needed to stay focused, not dally around with the what-ifs. There would be time for that later, when he was alone and not scrutinising another dead body. He turned and in a few short strides entered the Stasis bubble to assist his team. 

The poor woman was in almost the exact state as the last victim. Though this time, McGonagall’s observations were right: her parts were on display. Usually, the pelvis was its own separated part, thrown haphazardly with the rest of the smaller pieces. He noticed Theo and Blaise standing together near what appeared to be the lower half of the torso. The pelvic area reaching halfway down the thighs was still attached, the legs positioned in such a way that her vulva was openly displayed. Both men looked rather grim, murmuring to each other. 

As Draco approached, he discovered why. 

At first glance, it appeared as though someone had simply cut random lines all over the flesh. The wounds were jagged and uneven. Typical for torturing and for some creatures to get at certain organs. Not unusual in these cases. Upon closer inspection though, these lines were letters that formed a message. Dread started to seep into Draco’s chest as he read:

Potter whore

Make watch

taste sweet

flowers

Cut
nice
slow

Coming for you

He held back the bile that crept up his throat and closed his eyes. From what he could see, the markings continued down the sides, reaching around the back. Someone obviously took their time to etch the skin with as many words as possible. He hoped the poor woman was already dead when they had started “writing”. Draco could only imagine how much worse the rest of the words were.

Turning away from the grotesque view, movement caught his attention. Sitting just outside the treeline, mere feet from the Stasis bubble, a small red fox sat statuesque. Draco watched the creature with veiled curiosity. To his knowledge, the Dark Forest did not house any foxes since the Battle of Hogwarts. It was one of a few non-magical creatures that had been slaughtered by the mass of Dark Creatures that had trampled through. 

Draco could not bring himself to tear his eyes away from the sight, even as Blaise spoke quietly to him. There was something intriguing about the little creature. It was maybe average-sized, if he had to guess. He noted it was a much darker shade of the usual reddish-orange that most red foxes were. Its legs were pure black contrasting with the white tuft at the end of its tail.

 It seemed oddly attentive to the flock of wizards that bustled about. Yet, it made no move to fully hide. The little creature tilted its head to the side, as if watching him intently. Its black ears flicked forward and its eyes held his in a staring contest. 

Those eyes. 

They unnerved him.

He almost took a step forward.

“Draco?”

He blinked and turned his head, “Yes?”

Blaise raised his brow, “I said, should we call Potter? Considering this newest development?”

“No,” he said quickly, turning to look back towards the trees. “No. I’ll handle this one personally. I need to bring it to the Minister’s attention now that threats are being made against Potter’s wife.”

Gone. The little creature was gone when he looked back. 

Probably ran back into the forest, he surmised. But how odd…

“Blaise?”

“Hmm?” The Italian came to stand next to him, looking towards the forest as well.

“Remind me: the forest doesn’t have any kitsunes, does it?” Draco continued to scan the tree line as he asked.

Blaise raised a brow, “Not that I can recall. Those typically stay in Asia. The odds of one coming this way…it’s not completely impossible. Highly improbable. They’re considered morally grey, not Dark. Plus, there’s too many Dark creatures in there now anyways. I doubt it would survive long, if there was one. Why?”

Draco hummed before shaking his head, “Was just curious. Thought I saw something…odd.”

Draco appeared noiselessly across the street from the Potters’ cottage in Godric’s Hollow. It was a calm neighbourhood, though Draco preferred the Manor’s location. Less people around were always better in his opinion; plus, not many people wanted to live next to some former Death Eaters. But even he could admit that Godric’s Hollow had its appeal: small neighbourhood, away from the city, and, best of all, people left the Potters alone. 

He flipped up the collar of his coat against the light mist and trudged across the street, stepping through the open gate. He dreaded this conversation. After finishing with the scene, Draco had gone straight to the Minister’s office. To say Kingsley was not happy would be an understatement. The burly man had remained composed for the most part, keeping his voice calm before fury slowly etched across his face. Draco gave him a full verbal report on the case, making sure to stress how hard Theo and Blaise worked. He regularly gave reports to the Minister on the maulings. With this added threat, he was sure the pressure to bring things to a close would increase tenfold. 

Kingsley eventually agreed with Draco: Potter was to be taken off the case. And Draco was to be the one to deliver the news immediately. It took all he had to not grumble as he walked out of the office.

Draco would be lucky if Potter didn’t hex him after this. 

He knocked twice on the door before opening it and stepped over the threshold. He called out for Potter and suddenly there was the thudding of tiny feet headed his way.

“Uncle Dray!” A miniature version of Harry Potter, squealing, rammed into Draco’s shins. 

James Sirius Potter was the most baffling person Draco had encountered. 

The four-year-old had been absolutely enamoured with Draco since he was born. No one knew why. When Draco first held James, the infant had simply stared at him for several moments before letting out happy coos. Draco would never admit it openly, but in that moment, the little boy had wedged himself into his heart. This small human, who was barely a few months old, was openly gazing at him with what could only be called adoration. 

After James began talking coherently, Potter tried one day asking his son what he liked so much about his dear Uncle Dray (a name James had started calling Draco with no prompting from anyone). The little tike stared up at his father with wide eyes and said simply, “What is there not to like, papa?” 

So, Draco was accompanied by a small shadow practically everywhere when he saw the Potters. He saw no reason to complain, even when James almost tripped him constantly. It did not help that whenever Draco was exclusively focused on whichever subject James deemed as the day’s lecture, there was (dear god, he grimaced) cooing from Pansy Potter and any other females that happened to be around. 

He couldn’t believe that they actually cooed at him. How emasculating….

Today, James ecstatically spun a tale about how Uncle Ron had taken him to a quidditch match last week. Uncle Ron had been telling stories about beating Uncle Dray’s team all the time at school. Draco suppressed the eye roll as he lifted and carried James towards the kitchen where his parents were cleaning up after dinner. 

One perk about James’s loving Draco–it made Ron Weasley extremely jealous. 

The results of Ron slyly trying to win James over were simply comical.

“…and then Uncle Ron said he was always keeping the ball away and that you and Papa would push each other trying to catch the Smitch and-and Papa was always the better flyer. But I told Uncle Ron that Aunt Ginnay is the better flyer. Uncle Ron looked grumpy…”

Draco smirked at the married couple who wore matching grins and chuckled while washing dishes and listening to James talk. He turned towards the toddler, who was now happily sitting in his lap and drumming on the kitchen island. James paid no mind to the adults, continuing to recall the different plants he had found while on a walk around the Burrow last week.

“James,” Draco said softly, truly hating to interrupt the infectious happiness radiating from the small boy, “I have some important business to discuss with your parents. It’s not…James-friendly. Could you do me a favour and make me another drawing, in your room? I know Nana Cissa would love one too.”

James’s eyes lit up and he scrambled out of Draco’s lap as fast as he could manage. Draco shook his head and the Potters laughed as they heard the tumbles and thumps of James running up the stairs and into his room. Draco turned towards Potter and felt the air change from happy to tense. They had known Draco didn’t come bearing good news because this visit was a surprise--not his usual bi-weekly dinner with the Potters and he was still in his Auror uniform.

“Draco? What is it?” Pansy asked softly, reaching her hand out and grasping Potter’s arm.

“There’s been another one,” he spoke softly, glancing between the two Potters.

“Already?!” Potter couldn’t hold back his shock (typical), “But–but the last one was barely two weeks ago!” He couldn't help shaking his head as he leaned on his hands on the kitchen island, “Details. Give me the details.”

“Muggle-born witch…about mid to late twenties is the preliminary estimate. The usual: head, heart, and liver missing,” he had to pause for a longer moment and steel himself to give them the next details, “She…she had a message etched…into her skin.” Potter stood frozen, intently staring at Draco, waiting…Draco watched Potter from the corner of his vision as he turned towards Pansy. “It was about you.”

Pansy paled, “Is James in danger?”

“No,” he said quickly, “At least, we don’t believe so. We think it’s meant to be baiting Potter into being rash. It was disturbing and I’m not going to share what it said. But due to this new development and the short time-frame between murders, Potter is being taken off this case BY ORDER OF THE MINISTER!”

Potter had immediately started protesting, attempting to shout over Draco, then promptly shut his mouth at the severe look his wife shot his way. 

“Look, Potter, I don’t disagree with him. You can be compromised now. It’s one thing for the threats to be directed at us but they’re bringing your family into it. Think clearly.”

Potter kept his head down, seething. Draco was sure that if he could, the man would’ve burned a hole through the kitchen island with just his glare. Pansy silently wrapped her arms around her husband and whispered in his ear. Draco waited in silence, watching the exchange. Potter kept shaking his head but Pansy didn’t relent on whatever hushed words she spoke to him. It was truly an amazing sight to watch Pansy being the voice of reason to Potter.

After a few minutes, she turned to Draco, her usual smirk appearing. Draco knew it was a facade. She wouldn’t be Pansy without showing amusement towards a threat. She rarely let her fears show through. Pansy endured her abusive father for years who eventually tried to trade her off to Voldemort and his high ranking Death Eaters to gain favour. Her father’s corpse was found shortly after, supposedly committing suicide at the Dark Lord’s rejection.

Hell hath no fury like Pansy scorned.

“Alright Auror Malfoy, what do we do?”

“There will be a protective detail assigned to each of you. If you must leave the house for any reason, a team will be with you at all times. There’s also been a team assigned to be at the Burrow as well, obviously as an extra precaution. The wards around your home and the Burrow will be increased. Theo has a few new charms that he’s been working on and would like to add them–with your permission. Nothing Dark or blood magic–they are specifically meant for protection against Dark creatures and wizards”

Potter and Pansy nodded solemnly then turned to each other, whispering quietly again. Draco could tell by the way Pansy’s lips barely moved and the pinch of her brow, she was hissing instructions at her husband. Though they had been together a few years, it seemed Potter still needed reminding of who he had married. Potter huffed and grumbled before giving his wife a weary nod and kiss.

He took a few deep breaths before asking: “This victim…it’s not…Hermione, right?”

“There’s always a chance we could be wrong but the med team agrees: it’s not Granger.”

Potter visibly relaxed while Pansy let out a slow breath she had been holding.

It still amazed Draco that this pair ended up together and hadn’t murdered each other yet. The news of the pair was quite a shock to everyone. Everyone except Ginny. Draco learned Pansy always had a crush on the annoying man. To say Draco was shocked was an understatement. He probably could’ve died from the disbelief alone. Pansy was unrelenting in her admission though. 

Unrequited love while they attended Hogwarts was how she’d described it. Draco asked if she needed a Healer, if she was Imperiused, or if someone had slipped her some Amortentia. He was sure there had been bruises on the back of his head from the number of slaps she’d given him.

No one had known that only shortly after the War had ended, Potter and Ginny had parted ways. Not long after, Potter was spotted with Pansy at a shop in Diagon Alley. The gossip columns ran wild with speculations and accusations.

Pansy spun a tale to Draco of how she and Ginny had ended up as friends first. Then Potter entered the picture. Pansy simply watched from the sidelines as whatever rift started between the two only grew larger. It wasn’t out of malice or hatred. The pair just grew apart. Ginny had confided in Pansy that she was seeing Potter as more of a brother figure and it was starting to disturb her. 

She was speechless when Ginny had suggested that Pansy get to know Potter more.

“You two already get on well as friends. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You married the Boy Wonder, that’s the worst,” Draco had muttered, grunting when he was smacked again.

A few years later, little James was welcomed to the world just a couple months early with Draco and Ginny being named godparents. Draco tried to argue with Pansy that surely there was another choice and he didn’t deserve that honour. Pansy classically thumped him on the head, chastising him for thinking so lowly of himself. It warmed Draco seeing Pansy excel as a doting mother. She constantly smiled and laughed. It reminded him of when they played together as children. Pansy made sure to give James the love she was denied by her parents.

Draco held out a steady hand to her. Pansy came around the kitchen island and was pulled into a hug. He held her tightly, tucking her midnight hair behind her ear. Neither moved nor spoke for a moment, just taking in each other’s warmth.

 Draco whispered into her ear, “I will never let anything happen to you. You know that. None of us will let anything happen to you.”

She nodded, a few tears falling onto Draco’s shoulder, but her voice stayed steady, “I know. I know.”

“You have Potter and you are fierce, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. To keep James safe. They will not touch you.”

Pansy gave him a tight squeeze before letting go and turning towards Potter with a smile.

Potter only returned her smile and gave a nod to Draco. It was always an unspoken agreement between them: Pansy (and James) before childhood grudges.

 “Guess you’re finally going to be home more often then, huh?” Pansy wrapped her arms around Potter, looking up at him.

Potter smirked, “You’ll grow tired of me. You’ll want me out of this house within a day.”

Pansy hummed, as if thinking about it, “Haven’t gotten tired of you yet, love. It’ll take more than being grounded because of a psychotic werewolf to do that.”

The trio couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. They could take this moment though, to make light of a terrible situation and forget the world. .