Secrets and Masks

37. Medusa, revealed

TW; mentions of rape.

4th June

The force of Malfoy's Apparation was brutal. Harsh enough to knock the air out of Hermione's lungs when they materialised back on the grounds of his estate, but before she'd even had the chance to catch her breath, he released her arm and backed away from her.

"Get inside the house," he hissed, tone sharp and icy as he flicked his wand over his clothes, transforming them into his Death Eater robes. Another sharp flick conjured his Demon Mask.

To say that Malfoy was angry was the understatement of the fucking century. He was seething. Almost murderous. Dark magic seemed to crackle around him and his jaw was clenched so tightly that Hermione could see the muscles along his cheek rippling. He was almost feral, like a wild cat or a ...

A demon.

Immediately, she looked at his eyes, and although they were still a mixture of blue and grey, the blue was overtaking. His walls may have been half up, but they were fading, quickly, by the looks of it. Whatever emotion he was feeling burned away the grey in his eyes like fire to iron.

"Where are you going?"

"That's not any of your business now, is it Granger?" He looked back down at his wand and his hands tightened around it as he prepared to Apparate again. "I won't tell you again. Get. In. The. House!"

"Why won't you tell me where you're going? It's a simple question!"

"What does it matter?!" He looked back at her, and every nerve in Hermione's body screamed that there was something wrong, that she couldn't let him leave. She needed to redirect him. Give him another target to take his aggression out on -

"Quick, quickly Master Malfoy!" Romy squeaked as he appeared with a loud crack, "Master Zabini is waiting in the drawing-room for you-"

"Not now, Romy!" Malfoy hissed.

"But please, sir! It cannot wait-"

"I said not now, Romy!"

"It is very urgent! He is very upset and needs you to help-"

"Are you deaf?! I said not now!"

"But he has captured the spy!" Romy interrupted, voice suddenly sharp and loud enough to silence his master. "He has captured the traitor!"

Malfoy whirled around, and the malice, the anger, drained from his face in an instant. "He's captured Medusa?"

Oh God - no.

Hermione's heart stuttered. This was not good. This was - fuck!

If Blaise had captured the spy, the Order was finished.

Medusa was their last advantage, the only reason they'd managed to locate another Horcrux and destroy it right under Voldemort's nose.

If Malfoy handed him over to Voldemort, the Order was fucked. If Malfoy killed him himself, the Order was fucked.

"Has he called the Dark Lord yet?!"

"He has not called him yet, Sir." Romy shook his head, his tiny hands trembling as he fidgeted with the edges of his pillowcase. "He wanted you to see him first, so you could decide what to do. All is ... not what we thought it was, Sir."

"Where is he?!"

"He's in the parlour room on the left-wing, Sir."

As soon as Malfoy had a destination, a target, he took off. He charged through his manor like a mad man, taking steps two at a time, pushing doors open and kicking any inanimate object that dared to get in his way. Hermione almost had to break out into a sprint to keep up with him.