𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 || 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

Chapter 29 - Bloodhound

            "It's even more pompous than I had imagined." Remus grumbled as they climbed the stone staircase at Malfoy Manor. Ophelia led him up into the main house, circling around until in they got to the floor of Draco's room.

            "If you think this is grand, you should see the ministers house," Ophelia commented as she led her brother down the dimly lit corridor.

            "You've been to the ministers state house?" Remus asked with furrowed brows. "Whatever brought you there?"

            "A party, new years... the gardens are lovely, there's a huge maze and well... yeah I'll tell you about that some other time maybe," Ophelia sighed as they reached Draco's room. The house felt eerily quiet without the boy causing trouble, without her shouts after him. Without Narcissa's clacking heels on the hard wood floors, or the rhythmic tapping of Lucius' cane. It felt like a lifeless hollow shell of a home, like stepping into a completely different house. It was as if all the warmth had been taken away. Of course, that was her own mind distorting things, the house hadn't changed, it hadn't even been a day... but still, something felt denser, heavier, sadder, leading her brother through the large doors into the manor.

            "This is Draco's room," Ophelia swallowed as she turned the cold metal knob and swung the door open, she didn't step inside.

            "This is where he was last seen?" Remus asked as he walked through the threshold.

            Ophelia nodded.

            "Yes, Lucius put him to bed, must have been... I'm not sure, maybe four in the morning? We were pretty intoxicated from the party, I'm not sure when exactly we came home..." She explained, her voice tight with regret. Perhaps if she hadn't of drunk so much, she would have been more alert... heard the kidnapper in the house... instead she was so inebriated she hadn't even realised Narcissa stood in the bedroom until she had torn the covers from her body.

            "Home?" Remus questioned over his shoulder; she could spot the scowl hiding beneath his weathered surface. "Is that what this place is now?"

            "When we came back to the house... you know what I mean," Ophelia bit back, stepping into the room.

            Remus closed his eyes and sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling, twitching, as he analysed the scents that came to him. It seemed it was useful having a werewolf as a brother after all.

            "Anything?" Ophelia asked nervously, she twiddled with her thumbs, picking at the skin around her nails.

            "Something...." Remus grumbled, opening he made a start for the bed, where he grabbed a knitted toy, a snake, or what was left of it, seemed the stuffed creature had a long tough life of cuddles, for it was in a sorry state, its body worn, face discoloured. Remus pressed his nose to the snake, inhaling deeply.

            Ophelia opened her mouth to ask when the creaking of floorboards down the hall caught her attention. She froze, as if petrified. Her brother heard it too. Carefully placing the plush snake back onto the bed, he creeped over to the door, his finger pressed gently to his lips. Remus manoeuvred himself careful, light on his feet he stepped around his half-sister and drew his wand.

            Ophelia took her brothers elbow, clinging on to his worn woollen jacket tightly. Perpetrators often returned to the scene of a crime... or that's what muggle crime shows often said.

            The creaking grew louder.

            Closer.

            Ophelia daren't even blink, she stared through the open doorway anxiously awaiting the intruder.