Pawns | A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Memory

I opened my tired eyes when I heard hushed voices coming from the top of the cellar.  I tried to reposition myself against the wall, craning my neck to see up the stairs.  I couldn't see anything unless I physically got up and moved, but my limbs were sore from inactivity and my injuries were feeling enflamed.  The cuts on my arm still stung and they were turning black with all the dirt.

I heard heels descending the steps and felt my heart beat rise into my throat.  The screech of the opening gate was followed by the loud clanking of Bellatrix's leathered boot on the tiles of the dungeon.  I swallowed hard and looked with wide eyes at the straits, hoping someone else would be there behind her, hopefully to keep her tame.  No one had ever come down here but Draco. And though I wished for novelty on these early days of endless boredom, regret, and exhaustion, this surprise was not a welcome one.  

She just looked down at me, quizzically, her head tilted gently to the side and a curly strand obstructing one eye. It was like being in a zoo, like an animal on display.  I, of course, was afforded no luxury of bathing, and had only a chamber pot at the back of the cell to relieve myself.  And though I hadn't been in here too long, the witch already thought I was disgusting in my normal state. Now, she looked down on me like a pig.

"Mm," she mused, for no apparent reason.  

I rolled my eyes and then felt a hard slap across the face.  I hadn't expected the impact and I'd bit my tongue, feeling the blood began to pool on the left side of my cheek.  

I held in my groan and maintained eye contact. I didn't know if a face-off was smart, especially given her track record with the cruciatus curse; I knew she'd tortured Neville' parents to insanity, to the point where they couldn't even recognize their son. Part of me told me to just give up and do whatever it was she wanted. But I didn't much feel like being smart.

She let out a half laugh and her eyes grew dark. She crouched down in front of me, tongue between her teeth. I felt her hot and mucky breath on my face and scoffed, wondering how I could be viewed as the animal.

"Lonely?" she asked simply. 

"Not at all. Anything's better than your company." 

She gave a sharp exhale, like she wasn't prepared for lip. But her chin rose up, amused by it too. 

"Careful," she warned, smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "You won't want to anger me." She stood up.

I looked away and shook my head, exasperated. 

"Look at me," she ordered, voice low and commanding. 

I didn't. Not until I heard a piercing yell from across the room - a yell of pain and desperation. My eyes shot back to Bellatrix, noticing the wand that was pointed at Olivander's direction.  

"Stop it!" I yelled, instinctively. 

Her wand lowered when she'd realized she caught my attention again. 

"This will go easier if you do what I say," she said, soothingly. I could hear Olivander let out a rattled breath from across the room. 

I looked up at her with contempt but she seemed to relish in it. 

"Is your memory any better than before?" she asked, pressing again for information on Harry. 

"No," I responded, clearly. 

"Wrong answer," she said, her wand raising again. Without even looking behind her, the tip of her wand aimed backwards over her shoulder,  Olivander writhed in pain. I winced, opening my mouth to speak. 

She loosened her grip on the wand and the old man fell silent again.

"Yes?"

I sealed my lips once more and looked away. I could faintly hear footsteps upstairs, like someone had been waiting there the whole time and the yelling had them anxious. They paced around but hadn't taken a step down the stairs just yet.