Death's Dance

Chapter 4: Our Spot pt 2

A/N Hey everyone! Sorry for not uploading any new chapters last week, but I made this one extra long so it would feel like two lmao.. And if you have any  suggestions or ideas pls feel free to let me know !! That being said, i hope you enjoy  this chapter :) 

Draco POV

As the smoke clears I look around frantically, hoping that Ru got out okay. It didn't seem like anyone noticed her escape during the chaos, but they sure did see it when the only thing left in her spot was an empty chair and her bracelet that she always wore. It must've fallen off when she started running.

"Dammit! Where the hell did that bitch go!?" Father yelled to no one in particular. Good, it didn't seem like any of them were on to me yet. I try to form a scowl on my face instead of the huge smirk I'm currently wearing.

"The fuck are you smirking at you twat!?" Bella Trix practically screams in my face due to her frustration. "Just how idiotic you all look right now. Why are you standing here instead of looking for her?" I repeat the words I've just said in my head, hoping that I didn't just fuck everything up.

Bellatrix growls at me (I just wanna be your dogggg woof woof woof woof) and takes off along with at least 3 others including rat tail, that hairy guy I never cared to learn the name of, and my mother. I try to leave with them in hopes of possibly leading them the opposite direction of where Ruri will be heading, but my father holds me by my collar, and tells Milstrid- the girl I've just blamed for the smoke orb- to join us. Only me, The Dark Lord, my father, and Milstrid were left in the basement. Shit.

"Care to explain, Draco, Milstrid?" My father looms over the both of us as he still tightly grips the scruff of my school robes. I begin to open my mouth, thinking of any excuse I can, when Professor Snape walks in to the now cleared space.

"Don't say another word. Clearly the girl was friends with this sorry excuse for a pureblood, and was able to escape by use of a Wilstero." Oh, so that's what that hall was. I just found a bag of them on one of the allies on Diagon Alley. Snape whispers something to my father and The Dark Lord, expressions all neutral. I'm not sure if he's talking about me or Milstrid, but if he knows it was me, surely he wouldn't say anything. Right?

Suddenly all heads turn towards me. More like snap really. I was terrifying but I attempted to hide my fear by clenching my jaw. It didn't work. I stand in the same spot I had been in when my father grabbed me. The Dark Lord takes a step towards me, His pale, boney feet peeking out from his dark floor length robe. He stops directly in front of me and stares at me with a twisted smirk playing at his small lips. He stays there with that expression on his face for what feels like forever. I'm tempted to say something or move, but I know it would be a bad idea.

Even though I think these things to myself, my eyes can't help but wander off in the direction of the stairs Ruri used to escape. But the moment my eyes are off Him, His wand is on my neck, similar to how Hermione threatened me our third year. My heart begins to race, my breathing rapid and unsteady, and palms sweaty. As much as I hate to admit it, this guy scares the shit out of me. I'm not sure how Ru was able to joke around in his presence. It was kind of attractive, really.

My mind wanders to Ruri, and if she made it to our spot, hopefully she got there without any issues. But before I can get too deep into thought, Snape has stepped up and offered something to The Dark Lord. I'm not sure what it was, I was busy worrying about Ru, that clumsy idiot.

"Come with me Mr. Malfoy." His nasally voice echoed through the empty room, calling for me to follow. I do as I am told, not wanting to make even more of a scene. As soon as we both are behind closed doors, Snape grabs me by my left ear, leaning in close to it as I struggle to be free from his solid grasp. "Nicely done, Draco. I was concerned you wouldn't pull it off in the end. You've surprised me today." He whispers in a scolding tone, that of which I'm sure he took on to make sure it looked like I was being reprimanded.