House of The Rising Sun

Chapter Eleven

Now

Macaria dove deeply into her own mind. Shutting away the crisp air, the unconscious young man across from her that she didn't recognize, and allowing every murderous thought to rise to the surface.

Her limbs felt light, drifting away from her body as she relaxed the tension in her muscles. Her head dipped slightly forward, her fingers falling slack against the arms of the chair.

The thought of Hermione actually drawing out the attackers crossed her mind, but she didn't think it would have gone to that extent. Given the group information to the point where they had apprehended the pair in the street. The unfortunate conclusion that Draco must have compromised it somehow.

She knew he couldn't cast a patronus and if anyone that he surrounded himself with had tried - it'd be lost after their ritual. He had probably found the owlery in one of his dramatic episodes and sent a letter to his mother.

Maybe she should have been a little more honest with him.

She put her thoughts on the one place she really felt at peace. The place she hadn't even gotten to show him - wondered if she ever would.

It was a quaint house where the soil was dry most days, hidden within an empyreal forest on the outskirts of the city. It had a gorgeous painting on the east side's paneling, one she didn't know the origin of, but she loved to gaze at it whenever near. They hadn't gotten that far for a number of reasons.

Mostly, it was the one last thing she had to herself, and she didn't know if she could share it with him.

The faraway house was peaceful and it steadied her mind as she drew deeply into the Earth magic, feeling it strengthen beyond her magical core. It swirled and eclipsed the push of blood in her veins, singing like it did in Louisiana. She could feel that they were far from there, the cold an indicator alone, but the power from the Earth felt like an unfamiliar frequency.

She could feel Draco's presence. Close enough to try to communicate with him, push a thought his way if she focused intently enough. It was also strong enough to lift her out of most spells, slowing the bleeding from the gash on her thigh to a steady drip. The Earth's magic was a pool that she wasn't quite sure the breadth of, if it could wane from her use of it or not.

Narcissa really hadn't told her enough about it.

She decided she'd actually be more forthcoming with Draco, provided they made it out of this shack. She had deduced that it really did have nothing to do with the Anti-Death Eaters.

Hermione was right. As always.

She couldn't figure out why she wasn't dead yet. Or why they hadn't simply killed them on the street. Draco was hit with an unusual curse, knocking him unconscious before she was punched in the temple - distracted by his falling. Maybe their directions were muddled by several people being under the influence of the potion. If the mastermind was a singular person, perhaps they had overestimated the power of it.

Could they have been attempting to fail on purpose?

Surely Draco would have mentioned someone from his past that he knew had a hit out on him, but the pair hadn't exactly been on good footing for the few days of their reunification. He didn't even seem keen on remaining out of harm's way, but she liked to think she knew him better than that.

If anything, he'd do whatever he could to keep his mother safe.

Macaria wished she had paid more attention during his trial, the discussions amongst tabloids and the public - maybe she would have more of a clue as to who had been behind it.