Poison (Druna)

2.

The thundering sky released swarming howls and tumultuous bellows. The marble grounds shook and the windows threatened to crack under the driving torrents. Draco was cold, Luna was frozen. He almost ordered the house elves to ignite every heat source in the manor but he thought of her shaking and broken underground and realised he deserved the goosebumps that riddled his skin and the quick convulsing of his muscles.

He tried to make himself busy, tried to get her off of his mind. It was a Thursday - and again his parents were out of the house. From dusk till dawn, they would be gone. They would sit smiling at the dinner table on a Wednesday evening (occasionally Draco could see his mother's hand shake slightly more than usual as she moved fork to mouth) and return on the Friday morning, mentioning nothing about their disappearance. Draco didn't need to quiz them, for he knew it was 99.99% likely to be associated to The Dark Lord.

It was this Thursday evening, as the deep sky roared, that Draco Malfoy heard the most ear-splitting, excruciating scream he had heard in years.

He pelted from the lonesome dining table, knowing in his heart and mind that it was her crying out. He hissed at the elves, telling them to stay back, to reoccupy themselves, and he watched them warily skulk back to their chores. It slammed into the side of his head again, the scream, and his eyes crinkled in pain. He ran down the steps, three at a time, unhooked the set of keys from the wall, and stood bewildered as he had no idea what key worked. He had to think, fast, the howl becoming louder and longer. He could hear the pain in the back of her hoarse throat, as time passed excruciatingly slowly. Through the fumbling, the shuddering of his body, his desperation, he needed to get to her. He was shocked, so thoroughly shocked, because, when she returned to the manor fir the second time, she had disregarded him, pretending he never existed. All of the memories they shared, surely she could not forget them. Surely they did not simmer in her mind twenty four seven like they did him. The first time she arrived, she would call his name every night, begging and pleading, and he could never save her. The second time, she knew her attempts were pointless, so she stopped. And Draco was saddened, saddened that she didn't need him anymore - she didn't want him anymore. 

His skin was flushed and he was sweating, the droning wail nauseating him. 

"Help," he cried.

Nothing happened. He carried on searching, tears stinging his eyes. Was she dying?

Then one blood-curdling, ear-splitting cry made his knees weak and his chest cave in.

"Draco."

He sobbed and shouted. "Help, help me, please help." His voice had carried upstairs, and the elves all heard, but they could not listen. They had been warned, warned that there was a slight possibility Draco Malfoy would crack. He sprinted up, clawed an old, dirty-skinned one with a warty face and drooping skin.

"Help me, give me the key," he spat.

"Zonny has been given strict orders to disobey your command, Mister. Master and Mistress insist that I conceal the entrance to the cellar for as long as I do my duty here. Zonny apologises but Zonny must listen to the commands of his owners."

Draco begged into the elf's big, thick, yellowing eyes. He needed, needed, to get to Luna. And, suddenly, he had an idea. He pulled a sock, from the top of a nearby laundry basket, and handed it to the elf. 

The elf's eyes were massive, glimmering, shocked at what was happening.

"Please, help." Draco could only whisper to him. 

The elf dropped what he was doing and jumped down the stairs, flicked his finger and ran it slowly down the iron door in a series of whirls. It sprung open.

The, the elf disappeared, with a smile on his face, but Draco could not see. He ran in. "Lumos," he shouted, his wand pointed. His eyes quickly scanned the hard floor, searching for Luna. Then he heard a small whimper from behind him.

Lying on the floor, white as a ghost, was a sack of bones with light knotted hair and eyes half closed, who's pale blue iris' didn't shine at all. He knelt down beside her, brushing her defined cheekbones with the tips of his fingers. Her bones jutted out, almost breaking through the thin sickly sheet of skin covering her. Her ribcages and hip-bones were the most prominent, like hills and mountains peaking from her body. Her limbs were lifeless and still.

"Zonny!" Malfoy screamed, but Zonny could not hear, for he was gone.

Draco lifted the fragile girl - no longer a woman in this state - in his strong, muscular arms. He proceeded up the stairs and to his bedroom with caution; like she was a newborn child, or a valuable china artifact. On his grey bed covers is where he laid her, and she whimpered and hissed everytime her bones moved. 

He feared to apperate, scared that the sudden feeling would kill her. He glanced at his watch - he was safe for another four to five hours. He ignited the fire, picked her up again, along with a duvet, and sat on the warm leather sofa nearest the fireplace. He buried her into him, covered her with the blanket, and cried and stroked and kissed her forehead, willing her to stay alive. He felt the strongest loathing as he looked at her, he felt the purest hate he had ever felt in his entire existence, billowing deep from inside his chest. He hated himself with a strong passion. He allowed her to get like this. He needed to save her, and to save her, he had to escape with her, set her free. His mind was a blur, thoughts and trails and consequences racing round his brain like high-speed cars on a track. Only one thing could pull him out of the stance that lasted hours.

"Mister Draco Malfoy, Zonny apologises for intruding but Zonny but warn you. Zonny needs you to return Miss Lovegood back before Maste- Lucius Malfoy and his wife return."

He spoke this all, as he walked beside Luna and pushed a cup of something to her lips. Draco heard a small gulping noise from her throat.

Draco stared down at the girl. He could not bring himself to put her down there, again. 

"Take her." Draco said. There was a long pause. 

"Where?" the elf quizzed,his voice sounding increasingly worried.

"Take me to Denver Lane, please." a small, croaky voiced whispered.