Two Sides of the Serpent // Draco Malfoy

Twenty- Four: Veil of Shadows

The air was stiff locked inside what felt like a jail cell within Malfoy Manor, the walls seemed to close in on me, growing smaller and smaller by the day. Time passed painfully slow, remaining silent. Broken by only the occasional unseen movements in the rooms above me. The idea of facing Voldemort sent shivers down my spine and I was caught in between the looming uncertainty and the small flicker of hope I held onto.

My thoughts would often gravitate to Draco, hoping he was safe and away from the face of danger. I wondered if her knew about my confinement, what he may do when discovering the harsh truth. The silence in the dungeon amplified the echoes of uncertainty. Did he, in his own world beyond these cold walls, sense something was amiss in the carefully constructed alliance?

The sound of the clanking keys against the gate reached my ears, following the creaking of the rusted metal scratching against one another. Looking over to it, I caught sight of a Death Eater striding across the room. He entered with an air of indifference, his cold eyes avoiding mine as he purposefully threw a plate of food onto the cold, unforgiving floor. The clang of the gate echoed through the chamber as he swiftly turned, shutting it behind him.

Looking down at the plate in front of me, I was repulsed. The slop before me looked incredibly unappetizing and it let off a sickening oder. The insufficient meal was just another way for them to show their cruelty.

The grumble in my stomach was loud and unsettling, leaving behind a uncomfortable ache and the feeling of my stomach eating itself. With a heavy sigh, I leaned down closer to the plate. As much as I didn't want the unappealing pile of slop, I was given no other choice. I needed substance. With each bite, I was more nauseated. The tastelessness left behind a sour feeling but yet, my mouth watered for more.

After consuming whatever unappetizing substance that was on the plate, I leaned wearily against the cold, damp wall of the cell. Windowless, I had no way to tell the angle of the sun or what the time was, or how long I have even spent in here anymore. Time was elusive, as if the time was being eliminated from my daily life and there was nothing more than this.

As I leaned against the unforgiving surface, the coolness of the stone seeped through my clothes into my bones. The distant echoes of footsteps became a rhythm, a haunting lullaby that seemed to whisper the cruel passage of time within the Manor.

With no external cues to mark the transition between day and night, the dungeon became a timeless void.

As my captivity persisted, the dungeon's oppressive embrace casted a relentless void over the passing days. It felt as though an eternity had unfolded within the cold confines of my cell. The dim light flickered intermittently, a meager companion in the enduring darkness.

My wrists had become bruised and bloodied from the chains that bound me in place. The cold metal was unforgiving as its tight grip dug into my skin. Each movement made was a reminder of the gravity in my situation. I winced in discomfort each time they grazed the surface of my skin.

I lay there, cocooned in the dimness, the contours of my body tracing my vulnerability. The silence pressed in, punctuated only by the occasional creaks and moans of the structure above. The hollowness of the dungeon was abruptly disrupted by the sound of the gate creaking open once more. The echoes of footsteps followed, revealing the return of Bellatrix. As she entered the cell, the dim light seemed to flicker in response to her malevolent presence.

Waving her wand with an air of theatrical flourish, Bellatrix regarded me with a sinister grin. "Ready to talk, my dear?" she inquired, the mockery evident in her tone.

I lifted my head from the cold floor, weariness etched across my features. The bruises on my wrists throbbed in protest as I struggled to maintain composure. The defiant spirit that had once fueled my resistance flickered within, overshadowed by the weight of prolonged isolation.