imprisonment

Chapter 38; D

Coming back to the manor after such a long time weighed heavy on Draco. The last time he saw his home was when he went there with her—when it had come back to life. She left the halls filled with hope for the future. The image juxtaposed with the dark omniscient ambiance that the manor held now. He would give anything to go back to that day.

He fucking hated himself for wasting his time with her. If only he had told her how he felt sooner. He should have cherished every moment with her, but instead, he had to endure her absence. It panged in his heart, making him feel empty. When she was taken away, she took a piece of him with her. 

Visions of their first time together rang across his mind like a wind chime on a summer's day. He ached and wished he could be there again. The manor was just a painful memory of what he lost. The memory of her etched across the walls, reminding him that he was fucking alone. 

The whole way there he managed to occlude his time in Azkaban, turning it into a pebble at the bottom of the sea as he did with Hermione. He focused on pushing all his memory of her to where no light touched it. He buried it far, so Voldemort's eyes could never see her.

When they approached the manor his stomach turned to knots at the sight of it. It was as if it lived under a constant shadow and any light reaching for it would shrink away. The greenery was dead and lacking color. Everything had a grey cast, leaving you feeling like a ghost.

He felt himself grow numb as he passed through the threshold. He could already feel the presence of the Dark Lord as he walked towards the parlor—the parlor that he once danced with her in. It was filled with so much beauty and light but now filled with darkness that clung to the walls. It held a certain kind of dark magic that left it void of any good. He would give anything to relive his time with Hermione but quickly pushed the thought away.

His parents had told him that as soon as they got home that Voldemort would be checking his memory, making sure he knew nothing about Hermione's escape. He was accustomed to the intrusion during the last time he worked with the Death Eaters. He took deep breaths, telling himself everything would be okay.

If Voldemort knew of Draco's feelings for her they would both be fucked, so turned himself into the person he used to be. He shed himself of his empathy and his emotion, becoming the son his father always wanted him to be. Strong and domineering was burned into his mind since the day his father told him that was what he was meant to be.

As he walked into the room, he could see Voldemort standing in the middle of the room. Chills seemed to scatter down his spine at the sight of him. He never got used to seeing the Dark Lord. He has seen him murder on multiple occasions, and knew he lacked any remorse. 

"Draco," his voice was raspy and filled with wickedness that could be felt in the whole room.  He felt everything happen around him like he was watching a movie instead of living it.

"Yes Lord," he said, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his fear. He walked closer, just a few feet away from him. He was close enough to where he could see every detail of Voldemort's appearance. He could feel his chest burn as he had forced the words out. 

"Are you ready to prove your allegiance," the Dark Lord said causing anxiety to rise inside him. He remembered to remain calm and keep occluding. Her safety depended on it.

"Yes," he said in a monotone voice, dissociating himself. He was disconnected from it all. Any wrong move and both of them were dead. 

"Very well, let me see into your mind," Voldemort said, just like Draco suspected. He made sure everything was filed away to a place that no one would ever find. 

Draco crept closer to him, trying to hide the rate his heart was beating. He knew it was going to be painful but he reminded himself that it was necessary. He stared into the distance, feeling himself become a shell. It would be easier that way. 

Voldemort's cold hands pressed against his head violently, like an assault as he invaded Draco's mind. He winced in discomfort, feeling him weave his way through his memories. He wasn't in anyway gentle, making it feel like Draco's mind was being scrambled. His body felt like it was on fire every time he got near anything he had hidden. 

He tried to focus hard on leading him away from all his memories with Hermione and instead of replacing them with new ones. He had already been weak but using all his energy to occlude made it hard for him to even stand. He tried to force himself to continue. He could feel his legs struggling to hold him up. 

By the time Voldemort was done using legilimency on his mind, Draco had collapsed on the floor.

It felt like he spent an eternity there. He could hear murmurs of conversations but tuned them out. As he laid on the cold tile, he tried to remind himself of her. He tried to grasp on anything that would take the pain away. Seeing Hermione's face helped.

He forced himself not to cry. He was supposed to be stronger than that. But all he could think of was the time Hermione laid on this same floor, her screams haunting him. He noted to himself to apologize for not helping her back then. He had just been a scared boy, afraid to help her. As much as everyone thought he was evil, in reality, he was fucking terrified. 

Finally, his father's rough hands pulled him up from the floor, scowling at him for looking weak. He could feel Lucius's fingers digging into his arms, sure to leave a bruise.  Draco ignored it, trying to tell himself he didn't care that his father was disgusted with him.

"You'll need to begin training soon to regain your strength after being in Azkaban for so long," Lucius said in a hard tone looking him up and down in disappointment. He knew he despised his only son for running away like a coward and landing himself in prison for it. 

Draco suddenly felt self-conscious. He had once been lean and fit, but now he was so scrawny. His face was sunken in and his eyes had dark circles under them. He felt dead inside.

"I'm fine," he said trying to push it all away. He didn't want to train. He didn't want anyone to pity him especially not his father. He just needed a minute to take everything in. He needed a moment to be away from everything.

"You're going to train," he said strengthening his hand on Draco's shoulder. He knew it was best to just agree with him. 

"Fine," he said pulling away from his father. He started to walk off in anger before Lucius spoke again.

"I have arranged for you to train with some of your former Slytherin classmates."

He didn't want to see any of them. He didn't care too. He trudged his way up the stairs and into his room where didn't have to pretend anymore. 

When he made his way to his room, his hand rested on the doorknob, anxious to walk in. The last time he had been there was in the vision with Hermione. He could almost see her beautiful hair laid around her face in the covers of his bed.

He forced himself to push open the door. The whole room brought back memories that stung like a thousand knives. He was thankful for the pain though. It reminded him that it was real.

He had no idea where she was or if she would even be okay. He just prayed she would stay alive. If she died he couldn't—

He tried to push that thought away.

He spent the night forming his plan, staring at the ceiling in silence. He knew he was going to have training sessions soon. He would practice until he became strong again. Voldemort would soon have a mission for him and he would complete it to gain his trust. In the meantime, he would figure out where the order was and save her.

He didn't care what he had to do or who he had to kill in the process.

A/N

Would you guys rather have chapters about the size of this one and me keep updating the same amount (3-4 times a week) or would you rather have longer chapters and me update 2 times a week?

The next update will be Saturday, Feb 6.