𝟏𝟎𝟗 - 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫

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what's this ?????? cal updating two times in one week ???????? not taking a seven month hiatus in between ????

DRACOS POV

I wonder how time can pass so slowly yet so quickly.

Every minute spent at home in the manor felt like an hour in itself. I hardly left my room if I could help, even having some meals delivered straight to me. I hate walking down the halls of my own home feeling more like a guest, watching Death Eaters desecrate my space. Though I say that as though I am not one myself.

Celeste and I got lucky. We spent all of break without seeing the Dark Lord. He too is staying in my home, but he hasn't been here. I suppose he's busy. Snatchers come by on the occasion to show who they have found. Some are killed, some are tortured and dumped, and some — I'm not sure what happens to them.

It's Easter Holiday. The time between the last holiday and this flew by.

I sit in the drawing room. My father has called a meeting with all the Death Eaters to relay orders I assume he's heard from the Dark Lord himself. We wait for everyone to arrive, knowing it will only be minutes. I stare blankly at the deep purple wall in front of me, watching shadows and soft light dance, reflected from the large chandelier that hardly illuminates the space. There are a few portraits mounted on the wall, each in ornate gold and silver frames. My Father's likeness stares at me. His father's likeness does too. And his grandfather's likeness burns holes straight through my forehead.

I turn away to the marble fireplace before me. Winter has nearly passed, yet I can feel the chill despite the roaring fire that illuminates my father's face.

"How has your term been so far?" he asks stiffly.

"Fine."

His fingers clutch his snake-headed cane. The firelight reflects off of the metal, glinting in my eyes. My father opens his mouth to speak, but he is interrupted by the sound of hurried voices and footsteps coming down the hall.

My father and I stand up in unison, staring at the doorway with the confusion. My mother enters first, her face twisted with an emotion I can't read. She's a beautiful person, always looked younger than she is, but today under the dim chandelier and flickering firelight, I see lines on her face that I haven't noticed before.

In tow behind her are a couple Snatchers. My stomach twists when I see Fenrir Greyback, his ugly face baring a devilish smile that reveals his sharp canines. They are dragging a few with them, their captives struggling to stay on their feet. My stomach drops when I see a head of thick red hair.

The captives are thrown to the center of the room.

"What is this?" Father snaps, taking a few steps forward.

"They say they've got Potter," Mother responds quickly. She looks at me, extending her arm out towards me. "Draco, come here."

I stand frozen for a few moments, only staring back at her. My feet feel stuck to the floor, and I struggle taking the first few steps. Her hand comes to my back, but it isn't nearly the comforting presence it once used to be.

Greyback grabs one of the captives and shoves him right below the chandelier. I hold back a grimace when I see his face — swollen, huge, shiny, and pink, as though someone pulled his skin right off of him. His black hair was shaggy, choppily reaching his shoulders. I don't think Potter ever wore his hair so long, though perhaps he's been gone for so long it's grown out. The captive avoids my eye contact, even when Greyback grabs his hair and pulls it back to reveal his forehead. I take one step closer. There are a few faint markings on his skin, but certainly not the telltale lighting strike.

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