Unbound

chapter one.

It was about midday when Draco was able to finally slip away without notice or a second glance. Conjuring a quick pocket watch to check the exact time, he noticed it was half-past two before he quickly tucked it away, not needing it now but silently betting to himself that he'd need it eventually. He had steadily lost his ability to successfully track time as he climbed his way up in Lord Voldemort's ranks and, with that, became an integral part of any meeting the Dark Lord had.

He began to quicken his pace out of the meeting room he had been in, simply supervising the idiots and simultaneously listening in on any battle strategy plans the Death Eaters and Voldemort began to brew up.

The inner proper, pureblood Malfoy boy came out of him as the time really, truly sunk in; half-past two. He planned a meeting with Severus at precisely two o'clock and being late to this meeting was not a scenario he ran himself through just this morning as he lay awake in his bed, trying to come up with a semblance of what he would say to the Order members.

He pushed back the hair that began to fall into view and shoved open the grand oak doors to Dolohov Manor; unfortunately the same manor the Dark Lord demanded to inhabit for the time being. He let the cool breeze hit his face and prick at his skin as he slowed his breathing. Draco closed his eyes and tried to will his mind to calm down before he left. He lifted his chin to the sky, hoping they took him as seriously as he meant his offer to be.

He let out a deep breath, and within a second, he opened his eyes, began to lock his Occlumency walls in, and spun in place, feeling the familiar pull at the back of his navel.

He landed just outside of Severus Snape's home in Spinner's End. The few times he had been here, the visits had mainly been brief - and thankfully so. Draco did not like Severus's home, and less so now if that was even possible. For one, it brought him memories he didn't want up to the surface of his mind, never mind the sterile and generic aura it exuded. Something about it gave him the shivers, and not the kind that were welcomed, but the kind that furthered his preexisting anxiety.

He took another deep breath and closed his eyes, going into his mind and making sure everything was shut in place with only the critical few details allowed out and about. Everything else - the unwanted emotions, gut feelings, contemplative and regretful thoughts, and the like - were all put into small drawers in his mind, unable to be found by anyone but himself.

With the use of his Occlumency walls came peace and tranquility, something he needed an absurd amount of, and yet he constantly found himself lacking more and more as he reached closer to grabbing it. Times like this were so numbing it was serene, and serenity was just another mental state he could not attain.

He puffed air out of his mouth and watched his breath become visible in the cold air as he reached a reluctant and pleading hand out to turn the door handle. It took all his might to push open the old and creaky wood door.

He was not a stupid boy anymore. He was a man - and a highly intelligent and critical one at that. He knew what he was stepping into. He knew the benefits and the drawbacks and even dreamt of the potential punishments if he was found out. Although, he did try his best not to acknowledge those thoughts much. He did not care how he would be punished or tortured if the Dark Lord eventually found out. In fact, he did not care much about his well-being, he had no reason to. The avoidance of those thoughts stemmed simply from the fact that when he allowed those thoughts in, his arse of a mind would find its way back to his poor mother and her untimely death.

He shoved away the thoughts of Narcissa, allowing himself to place them carefully into a locked wooden box at the back of his mind, in corners so far one would not know of their existence unless stumbled upon by pure luck or accident.