Bruised & Broken // D.M.

Chapter 93

Ninety-three
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Voldemort's scream echoed through the house, making the walls shake. "He is gone, he is gone," he yelled over and over again. He blasted another hole into the wall, fletching his teeth, "he is gone!"

"We will find him, my Lord," Malfoy said, his hand clasped behind his back and head down. The young boy knew what it meant for him now. Draco knew that someone had to feel Voldemort's rage and that he would be the one to suffer – increasing the hatred for the golden trio even more.

"Crucio," the dark Lord spat, his wand now pointed at the blonde, "You let him get away, you should have stopped that mudblood before she reached her wand,"

Draco hissed, falling to his knees. He lifted his head, looking directly at the snake-looking man, "We will find him," Draco winced, "I promise- we'll get him."

"You better," Voldemort spat, lowering his wand. Draco exhaled, the tension leaving his muscles, "If you don't find him if I can't kill him by the end of the school year," Voldemort inhaled, straightening his posture, "It's your life I'm going to take," he disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

"Draco!" someone shouted, running towards him.

"I told you to stay away," he hissed, pushing himself off the floor.

"Are you okay?" Amara said, taking his face into her hands, "Why would he torture you? We're on his side?" the young girl frowned, her eyes filled with tears.

"He- he has a problem with control."

"Are you okay?" Amara asked again, her hands dropping from his face. A frown between her brows.

"Yes- yes go check on your brother he flew through the window," Malfoy waved to the window that shattered to pieces.

"Shit," Amara gasped and ran outside, through the hole Voldemort had just blown into the house. She called her bother's name but no one answered. It didn't take her long to find his unconscious body in the grass.

Amara quickly drew her wand from the back pocket of her jeans, pointing at her brother. Except for a wound on his temple and blood under his nose he had no visible injury. Amara tried every healing spell she knew to make sure she healed every injury possible. Theo groaned.

"Theo," Amara exclaimed, "Where does it hurt?" falling to her knees next to him.

"I'm fine," he groaned, sitting up, "Help me up."

Her brother swung his arm around her shoulders. Slowly, she helped him walk back into the house. His sore body fell into the armchair in the living room, "Stay here," Amara spat and hurried to the kitchen grabbing a washcloth to wipe away the blood on her brother's face.

"He got away," Draco hissed, sitting down on the sofa opposite the fireplace.

"What are we doing now?" Amara asked, taping the wet cloth carefully on the blood that dripped down her brother's nose.

"You are doing nothing!" her mother yelled.

The three young Slytherins turned to the entrance of the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Nott standing in the door frame.

"What happened here?" Mr. Nott hissed, scanning his son's face, "I saw a hole in our house," he exclaimed.

"Potter was here. Voldemort fought him," Theo said, snatching the cloth away from his sister. Amara huffed, frustrated and sat down on the sofa next to her boyfriend.

Mrs. Nott gasped. "The dark Lord was here and he fought... Harry Potter?"

Gregory furrowed his brows and Theo nodded, growing nervous under his father's burning stare.