Empty Spaces

Chapter 38

The scene played out in pieces, as if Draco were watching from far away rather than standing in the midst of it. His wand was gone, pocketed at some point by the Auror; he didn't know what happened to Markos or whether Harry was okay; nobody was telling him anything or answering his questions or listening to him at all.

"Mr. Malfoy, we're taking you in," the Auror said at last, flicking his wand and binding Draco's hands.

"For what ??" Draco asked, desperate for information– something, anything.

The Auror simply looked at him, dislike oozing from his features.

"Murder," he said darkly. "Let's go."

"No! That can't– who?? What?? No!!" Draco fought against his bonds. What did they do with Harry??? Harry had to be okay. Markos couldn't– Markos wouldn't– Markos was many things, good and bad, but a killer wasn't one of them... Draco was no stranger to killers. "Harry, where's Harry, you have to tell me, you can't–"

The next thing Draco felt was a cold, whipping wind, icy and wet; there was a crashing sound as waves pounded steady and relentless against the rock.

"It's just until tomorrow," the Auror shrugged, sounding neither apologetic nor regretful. "Maybe the day after, depending on how long it takes to set up for the trial."

"Where's Harry?!" Draco would not be deterred, "Is Harry safe?? I have to know at least that much, do whatever you want with me, but you have to at least tell me–"

"Shut it and save it for the trial," the Auror replied irritably, "Bad enough I have to come out here in the middle of the night... Come on, in you go..." They had stopped outside a prison cell. "Everyone knew it was just a matter of time before you joined him... Like father, like son. Move."

He shoved Draco inside and shut the door, despair and darkness closing in as the Auror and his Patronus disappeared into the night.

"My son," Lucius' voice floated up through the emptiness, "Oh, my son... What's happened? What have they done to you?"

Within the cold confines of Azkaban, Draco's willpower was quickly waning as his father reached out and took his son into his arms.

"Oh, my poor son..." Lucius held Draco closer still, "What happened?"

"I don't know..." Draco whispered. It was warmer here, in Lucius' embrace...

"And the first thing they do is send you here," Lucius murmured his disapproval, "No trial? Nothing?"

"Tomorrow at the earliest..." Draco shook his head. He knew Lucius was poison, he knew Lucius was dangerous, but with no way of knowing where the nightmare ended and where reality began, Draco softened into his father's arms as Lucius' words twisted themselves like vines surrounding a tree.

"A wretched world filled with wretched people," Lucius said soothingly, "This is what happens when the proper order of things is disturbed, when the masses are allowed to roam free and claim to be 'equal.' Everyone thinks themselves capable of greatness and cleverness, but we both know that these are qualities granted only to a select few. No matter how hard the sheep may try, it can never learn to become a dog. They've put you away because they are jealous, jealous of the surname that means you are to become that which they can only dream to be. And so, they've proclaimed your guilt on nothing more than association and assumption. But you will walk free again, my son, and when you do, let every breath you take of the free air be a reminder of the power that your surname holds. The power to imprison you for life. But also, the power to set you free."

Association and assumption... I never told you what happened... Why I was brought here in the first place...

"I should have known... you were right, Father," Draco murmured.