The Siren's Call (A Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

147. Suspicions

Dioleh paced anxiously back and forth, glancing at her watch every few seconds as more and more time trickled by without the boys' return. Finally, the door opened and Dioleh quickly hid to listen for their signal. "Dioleh!" Blaise called. "You're still dead." Rushing out, she saw that although both boys looked a little more worn than before, they were smiling triumphantly.

"How did it go?" Dioleh asked quickly.

"Good," Andre replied, holding up the locket for her to see.

"And Umbridge?" Dioleh asked tensely.

"Thinks she just got knocked down by someone cycling by," Blaise explained.

"Good," Dioleh sighed, taking out the mirror from her back pocket. Just before she said Hermione's name she hesitated. "Whatever you do, don't mention Ron, okay?" she said quickly. Although both boys looked confused, they nodded. "Hermione," Dioleh said. Instead of facing the inside of the bag, this time she was facing the tent to see Harry and Hermione listening to the radio and dancing. Dioleh and Blaise shared surprised looks but Dioleh quickly noticed that Harry was just trying to cheer her up. Clearing her throat, Dioleh raised her eyebrows at them.

"Dioleh," Hermione said, breaking away from Harry and rushing over. "Did you get it?"

"Right here," Andre said, holding up the locket for the two to get a look at.

"That's it," Harry said. "We know how to destroy it but we just need to find the sword first. We'll let you know when we do."

"What do you want us to do in the meantime?" Blaise asked.

"Keep the locket safe," Hermione said. "And try and think of anywhere the Sword of Gryffindor could be."

"Okay," Dioleh replied. "We will. Be safe and keep us updated."

"Will do," Hermione replied.

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Days flew by as Draco and Imani carefully formulated their plans of escape. Bellatrix's trip was delayed by several days due to a heavy snow storm that had rolled in, forcing them to also delay their plans as they waited anxiously for her departure. As Draco moved through the house during the day, each portrait and object seemed to suspect him of treachery as the house crawled with eyes that seemed to always be directed at him. Late one night, he was up, packing a bag of clothes and money to take with him when they left when he heard footsteps approaching. Shoving the bag under his bed, Draco quickly slipped into the covers, leaning back against the headboard and pulling in front of him one of his textbooks from school.

His door opened with a long, low creaking noise. He tried his best to appear unaffected as he glanced up to see the short figure of his aunt cloaked in darkness. "Aunt Bellatrix?" he said, glad to hear that his tone sounded normal. "What is it?"

Taking a step inside, she said, "The Dark Lord wishes to know if you have made any process with that brat in the cellar."

"Yes, I have," Draco said, trying to calm the pounding of his heart as she took another step closer. Glancing down, he could see that his bag was slightly poking out from under his bed. If she look only a few steps more, she would be able to see it. "I believe she is beginning to trust me. I've put up an act, you see, to make her think I'm as much a prisoner as she is. Rather preposterous, really."

"Yes," Bellatrix said slowly, taking another step. "Of course, serving the Dark Lord is the greatest honour."

"There is none higher," Draco said slightly tensely, setting aside his book and getting to his feet, pushing the bag under the bed more fully without bringing her attention to it. "Was there something else you wanted?"

"No," she said carefully, beginning to turn away. She stopped, fixing her eyes fully on his with such an intense consideration he wondered if he needed to look away to avoid allowing her into his mind. However, he dismissed this idea as she suddenly smiled, rather like a softened smirk, and cupped his cheek with her cold hand, remarking, "It is good you have finally seen the truth of things, Draco. The Dark Lord can forgive blunders of youth, but now that you have grown out of them you will be most useful."

"Of course," Draco said. She finally lowered her hand and disappeared out the door. Draco let out a relieved sigh, shutting the door with a flick of his wand as he sank back on the bed. After a moment, he got back up and took up his bag again. After filling it with some clothes, his eyes turned to his pile of books and for the first time, he realized exactly what he was doing. He was running away. He could very possibly be in his childhood bedroom for the very last time the night he left it to escape with Imani.

With a small sigh, he grabbed a different bag, quickly cast an undetectable extension charm and filled it with all his books, clothes, and a few other objects he wanted from his room. The bag was so small, he was able to quickly place it in his pocket out of sight. Glancing at the time, he saw that it was almost midnight. Curling up in bed, he turned off the lights and tried to calm his mind enough for sleep.

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"And you're sure?" Narcissa whispered, glancing down the hall to where she knew her son was laying in bed, hopefully asleep.

"As sure as I am Lucius is your husband," Bellatrix replied. "I know what I saw, Cissy."

"But why would he run?" Narcissa replied quietly, brows furrowed.

"I don't know," Bellatrix replied. "But I saw the bag. The Dark Lord cannot be informed. He is coming the day I leave. Make sure he stays until at least after the Dark Lord leaves. Perhaps his presence will scare him into submission."

"Alright," Narcissa sighed reluctantly.