Until the End ~ A Dransy Fic

XX - The Other Cabinet

It must've been almost an hour or two before Draco even had the mental or physical strength to sit up. He looked down at the bloodstained clothes draping his trembling body and sighed. His bloody fingers drew out his wand from his pocket, shaking so badly he nearly dropped it.

"Tergeo!" he whispered hoarsely, and watched the blood on his shirt evaporate out of sight. He slowly stood up and staggered over to the sink in the bathroom. Staring into the mirror at a reflection he did not recognize, he traced the lines on his drained face with the discolored tips of his fingers and rubbed his eyes.

Is this really what I look like? What happened to the old me?

Sleep deprivation, torture, and pain had taken their toll on his body, and now he could barely stand to look at it.

No wonder Pansy walked out, I'm an unstable mess...

He turned on the sink and winced as he let the cool water wash away the dried blood and ink. After drying it with a green monogrammed towel, he wrapped a clean bandage around his arm and winced again as the cotton touched his raw wounds.

That should do it for now.

He pulled on a grey sweater from his drawer to cover the bandage and trudged downstairs, where he saw both his parents sitting at the table and eating breakfast in silence. It was hard to imagine that he and Pansy had kissed over the very same table only an hour or two before.

"Good morning," Narcissa said cheerfully. "Would you like some oatmeal?" she offered, getting up from the table and retrieving some from the stove.

"Sure," he murmured reluctantly as he sat down one seat away from his father, who glared at him.

She brought the bowl over to her son. "Here you are," she said.

"Thanks," he replied half-heartedly as he looked down at the lumpy mess and tried not to complain.  

"You look pale, are you feeling okay?" Narcissa frowned, putting the back of her hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?" 

"No, I'm fine," he said and turned away. "I'm just a bit chilly is all."

"Are you sure? I'd hate for you to be sick for the holidays..."

"He said he's fine," Lucius growled. "Leave it alone." He made eye contact with Draco, who averted his gaze.

"Hmmm." Narcissa sighed, shooting daggers at him while deciding to change the subject. "Hey, what happened to Pansy?"

He looked into his father's eyes once more. "Uh... she got an owl from her parents in the middle of the night," he lied. "They said they changed their minds and she has to go home for Christmas."

"Oh," she replied sadly. "That's disappointing."

"Good riddance if you ask me." Lucius said dryly. "That girl was annoying. Talked more than a lady ought to."

Draco bit his tongue and concentrated on eating the bland sludge in front of him, resisting the urge to retort.

"It's true." mused Lucius, noticing his son's facial expression.

"Speaking of Christmas," Narcissa interjected irritatedly. "We have to go do our shopping today."

"Do we have to do this right now?" Draco groaned.

"Yes." she replied firmly, getting up from the table. "There's a sale at Borgin and Burke, and I want to go before all the nice items are gone. Let me just find my purse..." she muttered as she wandered away to find it.

"Come on Draco, we're leaving." Lucius grumbled. He clutched his walking stick as he stood up and followed her.

Draco didn't move.

"I said we're leaving!" he roughly grabbed Draco's forearm- instinctively lunging for the mutilated one.

"Ah!" he sharply inhaled as he leapt to his feet and wrenched himself out of his father's grip. "What is wrong with you??" he winced, desparately cradling his throbbing arm.

Lucius gazed coldly at the boy and said nothing.

"Found it!" Narcissa called. "Off we go, then." she headed in the direction of the basement door.

Draco's heart pounded in his throat as both of his parents started down the stairs.

No this is a trick this isn't happening I can't go back down there again I can't go down there I can't go

Lucius turned around to face Draco. He slammed his walking stick on the marble floor and scowled.

The sound of it echoed in Draco's ears as his mind grew foggy. He found himself moving towards the door. He blinked and suddenly he was descending the same stone stairs into the same basement as he'd been in the night prior, only this time in better lighting. The full-body feeling of intense fear came flooding back to him, and his face flushed as he began to sweat. 

They reached the dirty floor and Draco was on the verge of hyperventilating. The chair he'd been tied to was stowed in the corner, along with the unlit green lantern. He unwillingly recalled the terrifying view of its light on the masks of the people that stood around him that night, the unforgettably excrutiating pain that had coarsed through him. His Dark Mark was burning at the memories of its creation.

Draco gazed around the room and saw a large cabinet sitting in another corner he had not noticed before. The old vanishing cabinet! It looked just like the one he had seen in the 𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙. 

Narcissa threw open its lacquered doors and climbed inside, closely followed by Lucius.

Draco gathered up all the strength he had left and practically sprinted through the doors after them, slamming the doors closed behind him. Anything to get out of this godforsaken room.