Legilimens

| Twenty one |

           

19 december, 1998

Draco was reaching the potion room of Malfoy Manor when he felt the burn on his left forearm, warning him of the Dark Lord's call for assistance. Apparating out of the room, he popped inside the dining room, where stood the Dark Lord, and swiftly rubbed at his still burning skin over his black tailored coat. Voldemort was sitting at the head of the table, Nagini slithering on the long mahogany table, hissing at the wizards apparating one after the other in the room.

"Gringotts is under siege. Kill the intruders and attend to your tasks afterwards. I'm still waiting for the Invisibility Cloak."

Draco nodded his head and apparated off. He hadn't step foot in the Goblins' bank since his fourth or fifth year, and the second he found himself in the once grand bank, he could barely recognize the place. The desks were shattered to pieces, pieces of the roof were missing and above him, members of the Order of the Phoenix were flying on broomsticks, casting either the incarcerous or the stunning spell at the Death Eaters below. Looking around him, Draco spotted Theodore in the distance, staring at the people flying, a grin on his face. Apparating next to him, he pulled him behind a nearly collapsed pillar and asked him.

"What do you think is going on here?"

"Perhaps the Order is bloody suicidal, or they just got bored waiting and doing nothing all day?"

"That's it." Said Malfoy.

Theo looked at him sharply.

"Don't mock me, mate. I have no fucking clue what's-"

Draco cut him off.

"No, you're right. Look at the fighters." He said, nodding his head at the ceiling. "No top fighters, no leaders... This is a decoy, a bait. Something bigger is happening elsewhere."

"Then what do we do? Do we try and find this other plan?"

"No." Answered Draco. "We pretend to fight and if something goes south, just follow my lead."

Theodore nodded and stepped from behind the pillar. Sweeping his gaze around the room, Draco spotted many lethal Death Eaters, his aunt and Dolohov firing many killing curses at the wizards above them. Some of his father's old friends were busy trying to set the brooms on fire, and Draco took the opportunity to stun Crabbe Sr. while his back was turned. Their group clearly outnumbered the Order, and Draco could only scoff at their suicide mission. He was firing a few hexes, purposely missing the targets, when he felt the burn in his arm again. Lowering his arm, he yelled over the noise of destruction.

"Bellatrix! Dolohov! Leave with the others and answer to the Dark Lord. I'll finish this with Nott and Rookwood and we'll meet you after."

Bellatrix grinned and disapparated, soon followed by Dolohov and the other servants of the Dark Lord. As he fixed his eyes once more to the ceiling, Draco noticed the flying wizards were long gone, flying towards the vault. Rookwood cast an Avada and missed and grabbed for the abandoned broomsticks lying on the ground, next to one of Bellatrix' victims curled up on the floor, lifeless. Draco grabbed his arm before he could reach the broomstick and smiled a tight grin.

"Not so fast, Rookwood."

Augustus Rookwood pulled his arm away and glared. Draco pointed his wand at him from underneath his coat's sleeve and cast a silent stupefy and watched as Augustus fell uncounscious to the ground. He turned back to face Theodore

"Watch over him. Obliviate him, make sure he doesn't wake up. I'll follow them and come back in a few."

Theodore was about to protest but shut his mouth. Draco quickly grabbed the discarded broomstick and flew after the intruders, his gut telling him they would meet at his aunt's vault, where most of Voldemort's prized possessions were hidden. He flew down the cave underneath the bank and flew to the vaults. Turning a corner, he spotted a few flying figures, and pushed his broomstick to go faster. Finally reaching the Lestrange's vault, he climbed off and peeked in the vault. A man with flaming red hair was carefully walking around the room, careful not to touch anything. The man turned his face and Draco saw the long scars running down the side of his face, scars so similar to the ones covering his own body and arms. He shrugged off the thoughts and stepped away from the threshold, accidentally hitting a gravel with his boot. The sound startled Bill Weasley, who turned on his heels, his wand pointed at the potential threat. Malfoy stopped in his tracks and muttered a curse.