Little Bird

Chapter Fifty-Four

Draco

            The days passed impossibly slowly, and I felt as though I was gradually going insane alone at the Manor with my family. Without Eve beside me all the time, it was hard not having anyone to talk to—especially since things were changing for the worse.

            Death Eaters were coming and going from the Manor daily now, and the Dark Lord had already visited twice in the past few weeks. Just in the quick minute I'd seen him, it had been clear that the Dark Lord wasn't doing so well; his pale skin had nearly resembled frayed parchment, and his snake-like eyes had sunken further into his head, giving him an even more haunted look. My mother had forced me to stay upstairs when he'd Apparated into the parlor, but I hadn't missed how the Dark Lord truly looked like he was withering away from the inside out.

            Whether this was a good thing or not, I couldn't be sure. He was now significantly less calm and controlled, and he would lash out at anyone who crossed his path or made even the tiniest mistake. At one of the meetings I'd been forced to attend, the Dark Lord had killed three House elves after learning that certain members of the Order hadn't been caught.

            I wrote to Eve as often as I could, but I didn't try to mention how badly things were going at home because I knew Hogwarts was probably just as bad. I didn't want her worrying about me even more than she already was. Christmas break was still much too far away, but the weather was gradually turning colder so it wasn't terrible. I just hoped that things would calm down a little at the Manor by then, because I definitely didn't want Eve to be here when it was like this—especially not with the Dark Lord acting so strangely.

            It was halfway through October when it was decided that Ollivander would be staying in the basement of the Manor. Yaxley and Dolohov had taken him from his shop nearly two weeks earlier, but the Dark Lord now wanted him to be kept at the Manor.

            I hadn't gone downstairs yet to see, but I had heard him screaming even from my bedroom two floors above.

            "But what does he need Ollivander for?" I'd asked Lucius the next day, my voice hushed in the kitchen because Bellatrix was just a few rooms over with my mother in the parlor. "I know he's questioning him, but why?"

            Lucius was standing in front of the stove boiling a pot of tea, but he still managed to look impossibly exhausted and worn out as he glanced over at me. "Draco," he replied tiredly, "it isn't any of your business."

            "Did you hear him last night?" I snapped, trying not to get too angry when Lucius turned away from me to get the mugs. "I just want to know what he's asking him for, that's all."

            He shook his head, finally admitting exasperatedly, "I don't know. It's something about Potter, but it doesn't matter."

            What could Ollivander possibly know about Potter? But I decided to keep quiet as Lucius poured tea into the mugs, because it was clear he didn't know much more than I did. After a moment, he busied himself with the teapot and told me, "Listen, Draco—the Dark Lord is coming back tonight. Bellatrix is leaving on other orders, so...he may require your assistance."

            "With what?" I asked blankly, but my stomach had already turned over with dread.

            Lucius gave me a guilty look, something that was exceedingly rare to come from him. He rested his hand on my shoulder, saying quietly, "Just do whatever he asks. Don't hesitate, do you understand?"

            After a second I nodded, because what else could I do? No one was brave enough to defy the Dark Lord—especially not me. Lucius nodded and avoided my gaze like he always did, reaching for the mugs and telling me that we needed to go back into the parlor to meet with Bellatrix.