Secrets and Masks

32. Sign of the cross

16th May

"Does she have to make such a mess while she eats?"

"Yes."

"Did she catch that horse on the flight here?"

"Yes."

"Then why couldn't she eat it on the flight here?"

"Because I knew that Theodore was going to be late, and I needed to keep her occupied. If she ate it on the way, then she'd grow bored and even more irritable than she already is. And you know what dragons do when they're irritable? Eat people. Specifically, people who get on my nerves."

Although they were both wearing their masks, Malfoy could tell Zabini was rolling his eyes. "Well, she's getting blood all over my robes."

"Then maybe don't stand so close to her while she's having her lunch?"

"And there's some intestine on my shoe-"

"She's a dragon, Zabini," Malfoy sighed, shaking his head as he used his wand to levitate a piece of meat from the corpse beside him. "Table manners aren't very high on her list of priorities."

He threw the treat into the air, and Narcissa raised herself onto her hind legs to catch it. She shook her head violently as she chewed, severing the flesh like a shark does after a fresh kill. It sprayed more blood across the grass, and Blaise backed away several more spaces, out of the 'danger zone'.

"I still don't understand why you had to bring her on this mission," Blaise sneered under his breath, banishing the few - barely there - specs of blood from his robes with a harsh wave of his wand. "There's nothing for her to do here."

"You heard the Dark Lord. He wants her to come on every mission." Malfoy threw another piece of meat into the air for her to catch- a leg, this time. "No matter how small."

"But look at this place," Zabini waved his arm out to the side. "There's nothing for her to do here."

Although Malfoy didn't care for his tone, the snarky bastard was right.

There really was nothing for the dragon to do here, because there was nothing here. No houses. No cars. No trees. No civilization of any kind. The only building for miles around was the abandoned church that Voldemort had ordered them to investigate. Even the ground itself was dying. The grass was yellow and brittle, and the earth was splintering, cracking itself open in search of nourishment.

This small patch of land was forgotten, dead, and hidden away enough for it to be a perfect hiding spot for refugees.

"Where is that bloody psychopath?!" Blaise muttered under his breath, starting to pace behind Malfoy. "Surely Nott has enough class - enough decency - to come when he's been called upon? I would have thought so, but oh no, apparently torturing the depraved souls he's captured just cannot wait until tomorrow - "

"He'll be here soon," Malfoy said. "He didn't arrive home until the early hours of this morning, and when he did, he was dripping in blood, and reeked of tequila and drugs and Salazar knows what else-"

"Whose blood-"

Malfoy sharply raised his hand to cut Zabini off. "I didn't ask. He wasn't in the mood for questions. I just told him to get cleaned up, get whatever substances he'd taken out of his system, and meet us here."

"Well, how long does it take to wash some blood out of his hair?!"

"You're rather grouchy this morning mate. Something on your mind?"

Blaise stopped pacing. "I just want to go home. Astoria's ... not well. I didn't want to leave her at all today. Her condition is getting worse."

Malfoy's eyes flickered to Zabini before he could stop himself. "I thought you upped the dosage of the potions she's on?"