111. the potter interrogation

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TRAINING WHEELS

THE POTTER INTERROGATION

14 March 1998

Draco slipped away from Amora faster than ever. He scrambled from the bed, Amora moving to follow him with a panicked expression. He quickly whirled around, his hands grasping the sides of her face. His silver eyes were wide with terror. Amora knew it was only a matter of time before he Occluded so that he could do this without feeling the erratic pounding of his heart or the sweat that coated his palms.

"I will be right back, okay?" Draco muttered. "I promise. Stay here. Don't make a sound."

"Draco -" Amora panicked, but he was already leaving.

The bedroom door closed behind him and he took off down the corridor. He found his own room in a matter of seconds and dove under his bed, reaching for black rucksack that he had enchanted to hold everything they could possibly need whilst on the run. He was hoping it wouldn't come down to this, but it looked like they didn't have a choice. If Potter really was downstairs, then they needed to leave right now.

"Draco!" An excited gasp came from behind him.

Draco froze, dropping the bag beneath the bed and turning to face his aunt. "Bellatrix."

"You must come right this instant," Bellatrix grinned, showing off her blackened, broken teeth. "We - Oh, we think the Potter boy is downstairs! We need you to identify him."

Considering Potter's photograph had been posted everywhere since he was only a baby, Draco struggled to comprehend why he would need identifying. He moved to protest, to come up with some sort of excuse, but Bellatrix already had his arm grasped, leading him out into the corridor.

"Bella," Narcissa said quietly, her eyes wide from where she waited at the bottom of the stairs. "If we do not recognise the boy, how will Draco?"

"Nonsense, Cissy," Bellatrix spat, "Draco will recognise his own classmate!"

"What's going on?" Draco demanded.

Was Potter here or not? All he could think about was Amora upstairs. He needed to get back to her. He needed to be ready to run with her - to keep her safe from the wrath of disturbed Death Eaters.

Nobody spoke to him. He grew irritated by the grasp his aunt had on him, ready to tug himself away and leg it back up the stairs, however, he was stunned into silence when he was pushed into the drawing room. Fenrir Greyback stood there alongside about three other Snatchers, plus Draco's father. However, the most alarming part was who the Snatchers were restraining.

It was unmistakably Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, their faces and clothes dirtied, their eyes wide and frantic as they landed on Draco. Granger seemed to send him a pleading look as Draco's eyes tore away and over to another figure. He was kneeling down on the other side of the room. It was definitely Potter - Draco recognised the scruffy Muggle clothing and unkempt hair from anywhere. However, something was wrong with his face. It was swollen to the point where Draco struggled to see his eyes, even as his father and Bellatrix pushed him closer towards him.

It was a Stinging Jinx. Draco recognised it instantly, remembering how he had cast one on Crabbe and Goyle back in the fourth year when they'd bragged about hurting Amora after the Yule Ball. Someone had cast it on Potter to keep his face unrecognisable. Most likely Granger, considering Weasley's lack of brains.

"Well?" Bellatrix grinned as she shoved one of the Snatchers out of the way, grasping Potter herself and placing her wand to his neck. "Is it Potter?"

Draco stared at Potter. "No," he replied immediately.

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