In The End

Chapter 11 - The Meeting

Eliza looked around in awe as she walked alongside her uncle. They approached Malfoy Manor with a steady gait, mounting the front steps one at a time until they finally knocked on the enormous front doors.

After a timid-looking house-elf opened the door and showed them inside, they were led into a large dining room, a picturesque sight of dark green and grey, with black accents to compliment the long black dining table in the centre of the spacious room.

"Ah, the Macnairs. I am glad to see you both here. Please, sit. There is a seat for you beside Mr Malfoy, young lady," Voldemort stated austerely as he gestured to Draco.

"Thank you, my Lord," she said curtly before awkwardly taking her seat beside Draco at the table.

She didn't dare look directly at him, although she could feel the tenseness in his shoulders as she sat next to him. Draco didn't say a word, but he wished he could somehow tell Eliza how grateful he was to see her again.

The past week had been difficult for him. With his home becoming an involuntary hideout for Death Eaters at the orders of the Dark Lord. He hadn't gotten much rest and the sight of Eliza send a crashing realisation over him. If these past few weeks had proven anything to him, it was that Eliza was his greatest comfort.

After all of the Death Eaters had finally arrived, Voldemort cleared his throat and the room fell disturbingly silent.

"Right, let's get down to business, shall we? Yaxley," he barked, "how is the search for Black going?"

"Well, my Lord, I have a few people from the ministry rather rattled and they are on the lookout for him as we speak. I believe they have sent word to the Daily Prophet for people to keep searching too. He is still believed to be a murderer," Yaxley babbled on.

"Very well, Bellatrix, what of the interrogation?" he asked, looking lazily in her direction.

"I was making some promising advances, my Lord. In fact, he is still waiting in his chair as we speak," she licked her lips, a vicious smile emerging on her sallow face.

"Macnair," both Walden and Eliza looked up quickly.

"How far are you with the cabinet?" he asked, directing his hard gaze towards Eliza.

"I have made a lot of progress, My Lord. It is successfully vanishing objects now, but they are still getting damaged on their return journey. I have a solid plan on how to combat this issue, which I will perform the moment I return to Hogwarts," Eliza replied, forcing out any signs of emotion from her voice.

"Hmm. I'm disappointed in you, Miss Macnair. I suggest you work quickly. I do not like to be kept waiting. I trust you and Draco are aware of what happens when I am let down?" he asked, his voice chilling.

"Forgive me, My Lord. I will not let you down. Please know that Draco is not responsible for these delays in any way," she said nervously.

At this, Draco couldn't stop himself from grabbing Eliza's hand beneath the table and giving it a tight squeeze.

"Mr Malfoy will be held responsible for any failures involving the vanishing cabinet just as much as you will, Miss Macnair. Or have you forgotten whose idea it was to utilise the cabinets in the first place?" he asked, his eyes digging into Eliza mercilessly.

Eliza stopped herself from looking at Draco. This was news to her. She had never considered that this had all been Draco's plan. Was that why he had been responsible for it first? Or was this just a small piece of a much larger task for Draco?

"Yes, my Lord," she nodded, swallowing hard.

Eliza felt a pang of relief when his attention moved away from her. She was truly grateful to have Draco's warm hand enclosed around her own. It soothed her nerves as the meeting continued on.

---

When the meeting was finally over, most of the Death Eaters dispersed and Bellatrix went back down to the cellar to attend to her so-called "interrogation".

Eliza winced at the sound of the man's screams, erupting from below. Uncle Walden was nowhere to be found and so Draco jumped at this opportunity and took Eliza outside to the gardens, where they could be alone and away from the screaming.

They were silent as they walked along the stone pathway, eventually finding sanctuary on a stone bench underneath a beautiful willow tree, its strings of leaves providing a fair amount of cover from prying eyes.

After a minute of silence, Draco eventually cleared his throat.

"Is it wrong to say that I was really happy you were there today?" he asked, staring into the distance.

Eliza shook her head, "No. I'm happy you were there too. I don't know what I would have done otherwise," she shrugged.

Silence fell upon them once again.

"Does Bellatrix... you know, interrogate people often?" she asked timidly, looking over at him with concern.

"Yes," he answered, clenching his jaw.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Draco met her gaze with his and was surprised to see the sadness in her eyes. Eliza wanted nothing more than to draw Draco into her arms and let him know that she was there if he needed her, but neither would dare to show any affection towards one another with so many Death Eaters around.

In the distance, Eliza could hear her uncle calling for her. She quickly rose from the bench and dusted her robes off.  As she began to walk away, Draco grabbed her hand.

She looked down into his pleading silvery-grey eyes. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, like it hurt him to watch her leave.

"Send me an owl every now and then, would you?" he asked gently.

Eliza smiled softly and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, nodding quickly. At this small confirmation, Draco allowed himself to let her go and without a word, she made her way to her uncle.

---

That very night, Eliza wrote her first letter to Draco. She spoke about her Christmas with her family and asked him how he had been coping. By the next afternoon, she had received a letter back and felt her heart race as she opened the letter, addressed to her in Draco's familiar slanted writing. 

After that, they wrote to each other on a daily basis. Each time Eliza got a letter, her heart jumped in delight. 

The letters were always about simple things like how their days went, what they did and sometimes, Eliza would include a drawing too. Draco always got excited when he got a new one. He loved them so much, in fact, that he kept every single one locked away in a drawer in his desk. 

He especially liked the self-portrait she sent him. He remembered her mentioning that she had drawn it in front of a mirror. He loved the way she captured her own features just perfectly. 

When he had bad nights, he liked to pull it out and just look at it for a while, letting himself discover each tiny detail and reminisce about how that same feature looked on Eliza's real face.

It almost helped him to block out the terrifying sounds that drifted up from the dreaded cellar. He couldn't imagine going through this without Eliza anymore. 

Not only did he need her, he wanted her. He had become so attached to her at this point that it pained him to think of all the times he had ever been mean to her. It was funny how someone he thought he hated so much had become one of the most important people in his life now.