CHAPTER 37 - A HAUNTING HOLIDAY

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Every day of holiday break was a circus of misery for Draco. The Dark Lord didn't come before Christmas Eve, but Death Eaters still burrowed in his Manor. The first day, The Carrows brought a muggle family from Scotland and tortured them all until their screams echoed throughout the halls well after they'd killed them.

"Fifth family today," Amycus smirked when Draco had to help move the bodies because most of the house-elves at the Manor had already been beaten to death.

The second day, Bellatrix had two men who looked quite like Harry, enough to make Draco's stomach drop once he saw them, but it was a test, and Draco knew it was, so he kept a stone cold face as they took more Unforgivables than Draco could count.

Lucius escaped from Azkaban that day, too. Draco hadn't even known that was a plan. His hair was ratted and face sunk in from the effects of the Dementors. When Draco first saw him, he thought he was a ghost, and he'd avoided him ever since.

"You finally have your Mark," Lucius had said in a congratulatory tone. "As you should."

Fuck off, Draco thought, and he had gone to his room.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Greyback roamed the Manor, obviously hungry despite the dried blood on his chin and shirt. Draco hid in the attic the rest of the day until late into the evening.

The meeting started with everyone sharing their crimes, or 'accomplishments' as they called them.

"Welcome back from Azkaban, Lucius. Have you learnt your lesson?" The Dark Lord, as well as everyone else, turned the Malfoy's, who all sat together.

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius's voice was raspy and weak.

"Consider Azkaban a mercy."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius tried to remain firm, but he shuttered.

"Draco," the Dark Lord turned to him. "There's been an empty seat here as you've been at Hogwarts. "How's our boy Potter?"

He's not yours. "Still mourning the death of his godfather. I'm motivated every day by it," Draco said as rehearsed. Bellatrix cackled. "When he loses Dumbledore, he'll be devastated just the same. He's more and more alone as time goes on. There's been tensions between his friends as well."

"Are you responsible for those tensions?"

"Some of them. I monitor them, but I don't need to be all the time. They do it on their own. I do my best to isolate him more." Though he felt that was an inadequate answer. Really, everything was an inadequate answer.

Voldemort's red eyes flashed. "What is Potter like in his off time? Are there any interests that might be of attention should we need to use them?"

"Potter's a rather dull person. The only thing special about him is his skills for Quidditch. I would say if you were to attack him, make it on foot. Don't let him have access to a broom."

"I must have been in Azkaban longer than I thought," Lucius gave a humorless laugh. "Are you the Potter expert?"

There was a tight knot in Draco's throat as he opened his mouth, but The Dark Lord spoke over him.

"You're lucky I even allow you in the army. Your son has given information that makes up for your inadequacy." Lucius looked to the floor while the Dark Lord turned back to Draco. "Do you know if he's training, the boy?"

"No. Dumbledore's Army disbanded last year, and I am not aware of any efforts of a similar group. He doesn't duel. He hates studying, so he'd only do it if he was forced to."

"What are his studies now?"

Snape spoke, filling him in on the curriculum that he'd been using, which Draco was thankful about, because he'd missed so many classes working on the cabinet, or he spent them daydreaming about Harry.

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