Roses (A Drarry FanFiction - Roses are Red, Violets are Blue Part 1)

Chapter Two

   Harry cast the softest of Lumos spells as he stepped inside the creaking hallway. Shadows danced as he and Malfoy eased themselves inside, eyes wide for any flicker of movement. The cottage only held a few rooms, and a cursive look over determined that they were alone, at least for now. The living room was the first doorway on their right, and it was practically destroyed. Coffee table, sofa, bookcases, all torn apart and littered across the swirling floral pattern of the threadbare carpet. There was a single, neat blood splatter up one of the walls, the dried rusty brown droplets stark against the cream wallpaper.

"Bad sign," Malfoy repeated, and carried on up the hall. A glance into the bedroom on the left showed them a bed stripped of its sheets and not much else, and a bathroom next to that with white and paisley tiles and kittens adorning every ornamentation. The kitchen ended the tour of the cottage, with a back door leading out into the open Highlands. On the table was a large heart shaped box, its lid strewn on the side and half the chocolates inside gone. Beside this was an open bottle half full of flat champagne and two flutes with only the dregs left at the bottom of their glasses.

Malfoy inspected the bottle. "What a bloody waste," he muttered, before going on to inspect the rest of the room. "Do you reckon they got interrupted?"

Harry looked at the box of chocolates, then around the rest of the room and decided to drop the invisibility spell and turn on some lights as they were clearly alone. Several bunches of red roses peeked out from vases and lose petals had been littered on the counter tops. He thought of the florist that had been attacked, and touched one of the flower heads. It must have been enchanted to still be thriving, and even though its origins were undoubtedly dark, Harry couldn't help but marvel at its beauty.

"It was Valentine's Day on Saturday," he said. "About the time we started investigating. Perhaps they realised we got wind of them and legged it."

Malfoy sneered, a true lip curl the likes Harry hadn't seen on him for years. "Valentine's Day," he scoffed. "You really think they took time out of maiming and plundering for a bit of nooky nooky?"

"They're narcissists," said Harry with a shrug, documenting all he could with his wand. All the readings were already being relayed back to the Ministry in London. "I think they're exactly the kind of people to stop for a moment and bask in their own glory."

Draco shook his head. "Roses are red," he chimed in a mocking tone. "Violets are blue. I'm a mad psychopath, and you are too!"

Harry's mouth curled into half a smile, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he made his way back into the living room, standing carefully so as not to disturb any of the evidence. It was clear a great deal had transpired in this room. "Do you think we're looking at a murder here?" he asked aloud as Malfoy came in to join him.

He held his wand out and muttered a few spells as Harry waited. "There were some defensive spells cast within the last week," he said. "I'd say Mrs Hathaway put up a bit of a fight, but not much." He pulled a face. "Poor old bag," he said with a modicum of sympathy.

Harry had guessed as much. He supposed the Pontiacs had surprised her, disposed of her, then used her house as a hideout until they had been caught out. "We should check around back. See if there's anything, they might have even buried her for all we know."

He made to go for the front door, hand reaching out for the handle, when Malfoy startled him.

"NO!" he shouted, and Harry stilled, hand poised as his head whipped back. Draco's eyes were wide a saucers as he stood, frozen, hands up as if to grab Harry.

"What?" he hissed.

Malfoy slowly stepped forwards, his gaze never leaving the door, as he slowly began to swish his wand back and forth. "Fuck," he whispered. "Fuck, shit, bollocks, arse."

"What!" Harry demanded. Malfoy didn't answer him right away, just kept working his magic over the door.

"They jigged it," he said, dropping his hands and turning to Harry with a mixture of annoyance, despair and downright fury on his face. "They bloody jigged it. We can't get out."

Harry glanced at the door, then back at Draco. "How so? What happens if I turn the handle?"

Malfoy took a breath, then made a sound like an explosion at the back of his throat whilst blossoming his fingers out and flinging his hands apart.

"Right," said Harry, his innards clenching. "Big fiery death. Back door?"

Malfoy looked towards the kitchen and shrugged. "We can try, but I think it's the same. I think we triggered it when we entered, and now we can't leave."

Harry blinked. "What, ever?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Well yeah, I guess if there was literally no one else in the world. But lucky for us there are like seven billion people who are not in this house. I guess it's to stop people following them."

Harry ground his teeth and stomped back into the kitchen to check their other exit, but it yielded exactly the same results. "Cock it!" cried Malfoy in frustration. "Right, fine, let's check the fireplace, see if we can't contact anyone."

The settling sinking sensation in Harry's stomach really hoped they could.