The Siren's Call (A Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

142. Burning Hatred

The darkness seemed to penetrate the room as Draco sat between his mother and father, his eyes occasionally shifting down to the bloodied figure on the table as the snake Nagini feasted upon her. The silence was even more consuming than the darkness, broken only by the occasional sound of someone shifting in their seats. "Dismissed," Voldemort said finally. There was a general shifting of chairs as several Death Eaters got up to leave. Just as Draco got up to leave as well, Voldemort's cool, calm voice said, "Not you, Draco." Draco froze, his heart pounding as his stomach twisted in revulsion. Shifting his gaze to Narcissa and Lucius' concerned looks, he added, "You may stay."

Once the room had cleared, Voldemort got to his feet and moved around the table to face them. The dark circles from Draco's sixth year still stained his skin below the eyes and although he made a front for his mother of eating and sleeping, he was far thinner than even the year prior. The firelight danced across his hollow form as he turned to face Voldemort, his eyes averted. "I would have expected better from you, Lucius," Voldemort remarked.

"M-My lord?" Lucius stuttered weakly.

"Your son has again and again proven a lack of commitment to our cause. To me," Voldemort said emotionlessly. "Unfortunately, because of this, I must insist he remains here until further notice." Lucius went to speak but Narcissa quickly caught his hand in her own, giving him an imploring look.

"Sorry to have failed you," Draco said quietly in a voice just barely over a whisper.

"Then you may prove yourself to me by handling a recent problem that I have come across," Voldemort remarked. "Now that the Ministry has fallen, we have begun the extermination of Mudbloods-" Draco flinched "-from Hogwarts and our wizarding communities. We have found one particular witch who not only cannot prove her magical ancestry but also has a particular tie that may prove useful." Raising his voice, he added, "Bring her in." The door behind them opened and as the light cascaded into the room, Draco saw familiar bright, pastel hair.

"Let me go!" Imani screamed, fighting furiously against the Death Eater holding her in his grip. Her light pink hair fell around her to her waist in what must have recently been elegant curls. Now, however, she was looking more like she had fought her way through an army. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead and she had a large bruise on her right eye and at her jaw. The moment her eyes latched on him, however, the fury within them exploded. "Malfoy," she hissed. She let out a scream, finally fighting off her captor enough to be able to rush forward and send her fist directly into his jaw. Draco moved his hand up to the spot where he could feel the lingering sting of her hit as the Death Eater got her back under his control.

"As I was saying," Voldemort resumed, seemingly unaffected by the violence of the struggle, "I have discovered that she has a particularly useful tie. Do you know what it is, Draco?"

"No," Draco admitted, although the familiar face of Harry Potter flashed across his mind.

"She was best friends with that Marlow girl," Voldemort said. "The siren who was the sister of one of Potter's closest friends. She may know something. While you are here, I would like you to keep watch over her. Talk to her. Find out what she knows." Unable to speak, Draco nodded.

"I will never sell out any of my friends!" Imani snarled, beginning to fight again.

"Oh, I think you will," Voldemort snapped, stepping forward. She froze, drawing in quick, shallow breaths the closer he came. His eyes seemed to bore into hers as he forced her chin up. The sickly pale shone against her glowing ebony skin. She shuttered, closing her eyes before he could get into her mind. "Take her to the cellar and lock her up with our other guest," Voldemort ordered bitterly, shoving her away from him.

Imani threw Draco one last venomous glare before being led away down to the cellar.

⥖✦✧⦽✧✦⥗

The moment the last door was shut and the last goodnight was called, Draco stole out of his room and down the stairs into the living room. Passing through there, he went down the long staircase to the cellar. Just before walking inside, he turned, muttering, "Muffiliato." Once he had seen the slight disturbance sweep from the floor to the ceiling, Draco unlocked and opened the door. It was completely dark inside and there was not a sound. Raising his wand, he flicked it and there quickly appeared a large ball of yellow light. Imani was sitting in a corner, motionless.

More blood was streaming down from the cut on her forehead and now that he could see her better, he saw too that a dark crimson stained the side of her shirt. Crouching down beside her, Draco quickly pulled a cloth from his pocket as well as a small bowl which he quickly filled with water. "Imani," he said softly. She groaned. She didn't have the strength anymore to try and fight him. Even her snappy retorts were stranded on her tongue. "Let me help you," he whispered. "Please."

"Fine," she grumbled, sending him a glare. He got her to lay down as he lifted her shirt just enough to see the long gash in her side. Blood was already reaching the floor. Instantly, he pressed his hands into the wound, trying his best to stop the bleeding. When the blood continued to ooze between his fingers, he let go.

"I'll be right back," Draco said quickly, scrambling to his feet. "Save your strength as best you can and stay awake!" Rushing upstairs, Draco quickly took from a cabinet several items before rushing to his mother's small workroom to grab a small object. Rushing back to Imani, he quickly set aside his things and pressed a large bit of gauze into her side. Imani groaned, holding back a cry of pain as he quickly poured the water over the wound to move the blood so he could see better. After noticing that the bleeding was surface-level, he quickly threaded a needle, warning, "This is going to hurt."

"Just do it," she retorted. Casting another silencing charm at the door and moving the ball of light directly above him, Draco began sewing the wound shut with as steady of a hand as he could manage while also trying to tune out Imani's pained cries. Once he had finished, Draco quickly tied off the thread and cut the end before grabbing a wet cloth from beside him to clean off the blood around the stiches. As he was working, Imani said breathlessly, "Good job. Now you can tell the big boss you saved his asset."

"I didn't do it for him," Draco said quietly, setting aside the bloodied cloth and laying a bandage against the injury. Reaching for the tape, he began to secure the bandage in place.

"How did you even know how to do that?" Imani asked, eyeing his work.

"Muggle books," Draco replied, grabbing one of the clean gauze and wetting it in the bowl to his side. Carefully, he cleaned the drying blood from her forehead until he could see the cut below it. Grabbing the tape again, he made small, thin pieces to tape the cut together at three places.

"You read those?" Imani scoffed, giving him a surprised look as he cleaned the last of the blood from her face.

Lowering his hand and meeting her eyes, he said, "I've been reading them since the fourth year. Someone...got me into them." Getting to his feet, he gathered his things and hesitated a moment.

"If you're expecting a thank you, you might as well piss off now," Imani snapped. Draco sighed.

"Try and rest, okay? I'll see if I can get some food down here tomorrow," he said.

"I hate you, Malfoy," Imani snapped. There was so much resentment and anger in her tone that Draco didn't doubt for a single moment that she meant it. Biting his tongue, he turned and left.