Adamantine - D.M.

Chapter 13 - Time & Trepidation

I awoke once again in Malfoy Manor; this time, in a four-poster bed. I could see through a large paned window that the sky was still inky. Had it been a full day? Two? Searing pain in my left arm pulled me fully conscious. Writhing magically on my pale skin, a jet-black snake wrapped around itself and protruded from the mouth of a skull. "It stops burning after a day or two" a soft voice from the corner of the room spoke. As my eyes adjusted to the light, a pale character came into view, sitting in an armchair positioned in the corner. 

Draco. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but the incredulity of the situation did not allow for any words to escape. The boy stood up. He was wearing the same dark blazer as he was at the table with the death eaters. Was it still the same day that I traveled on the Hogwarts Express? What had happened to Amycus, as he waited for me to disembark the train, on platform 9 3/4? 

I should have been terrified. I thought I might be; but laying under the dark feather duvet; I realized- I was alive. I was just in the presence of Voldemort and his followers; the most feared and dangerous wizards of our time- and they'd placed me to rest in a cozy bed? "Draco- I, what?" I stammered, unable to formulate a question that would encapsulate what I needed to know. He sat on the end of the bed, looking at his hands. "Do you see this?" He tilted his right hand into the light streaming in from the windows. I took notice of the scars tracing his wrist. "Have you heard of an unbreakable vow?" he asked. I thought back to my conversation with Romilda, weeks prior, and nodded my affirmation. "I had to make one," he began, examining the scars. "He thinks your parents are the reason that he lost all of his power, that the night they abandoned him, they sold him out to Dumbledore and the Ministry. He, He-" Draco seemed to search for the right words. He turned to me, eyes full of regret. "Can I show you?", he held out a hand. "Show me?" I questioned, unsure of what that meant. "Just- follow me". He pulled me out of the bed and led me out of the room. 

The hallway was dark, and lined with portraits and old tapestries. The house was quiet, and our footsteps seemed to echo. He pulled me further through the expansive house until we reached a nondescript stairway. It spiraled upwards, opening to the unknown. The air grew musty as we climbed, smelling of moldy air. The room at the top of the stairs was cast in a very faint glow. Dusty curtains hung over the windows, and melted candles cast misshapen shadows across the walls. The only furniture was a cabinet standing in a corner. It was cold here, and my breath rose in clouds. Draco opened the cabinet doors. Inside was a shallow stone bowl. He pulled it out, balancing it across both forearms. He brought it to the center of the room, where he released it. The Pensieve floated magically, unsupported. Draco drew a crystal vial from the cabinet, holding it up to the candlelight to view its contents. "A collection of my father's memories," he said quietly, joining me at the shallow bowl. He poured the contents into the water. They swirled inky black, before dissipating into greyish clouds. Motioning me to do the same, he leaned down to put his face into the bowl. At once, a felt like I was falling forward, and we were thrown back in time.