Distance // Draco Malfoy

Chapter 74

The café, although small and dingy, seems to be a place of shelter. I do not even know how to process what has just happened - all of us seem rather shaken by the incident. And what if he was there, and by he I do not not mean You-Know-Who. I shake such obscure ideas from my mind, and concentrate on the small bag that belongs to Hermione that is sat in front of me, whilst Hermione continues to speak, in a low voice, of matters that concern the small beaded bag that she carries, and the elegant clutch that is now on my lap. Harry is looking far-off, too, at the men who have recently entered the café. 'Harry?' I whisper, and he points his finger at the men under the table, giving me a warning look.

Looking over, I do very much get a sense that something is mind-bogglingly up with the situation. Then, I see one of the men, the one with the dark hair, extract a wand from somewhere under his sleeve, and me and Harry react instinctively; I stand, and start to bellow a curse as the two men turn around, whilst Harry does the same, shouting a "Get down!" to Hermione and Ron. Chaos. Hermione and Ron crawl to a place where it is easier to aim hexes, whilst me and Harry continue with our ducking and diving, and aiming curses, whilst jets of green light fly past us in every direction. The sound of objects smashing fills the place - crashes of glass, things falling off shelves, objects hitting the floor.

'Petrificus Totalus!' Hermione screams, whilst I shout a:
'Stupefy!' The two Death Eaters fall backwards behind the counter, and I whisper in repeat the spell that Hermione just cast, so the blonde Death eater is also unable to move.

'How did they find us?' I whisper to Hermione, who is looking between me and the Death Eaters, shrugging. 'I don't know. The Trace is broken, it could not hardly be that, it's near enough impossible.'
'Yes, I suppose.' I am silent a while whilst Hermione watches Harry, who is talking rapidly to us all, but I am concentrated, thinking, and then, I get a sudden idea.
'What?' Hermione asks, looking startled.
'I'll tell you when we get away, I've had an idea, a thought - however, I do not know to what degree it is accurate.'
'It's better than nothing.' Hermione assures me.

'We'll have to wipe their memories.' Harry concludes, and Ron approaches Hermione.
'Hermione, you're the best at spells.' He touches her cheek, and Harry must be able to tell that I am slightly stung, for me and Hermione never consider one better than the other. 'You too, Alyssia. Come on, you do Rowle, Hermione, do Dolohov.'

I approach the Death Eater and take one deep breath. The last time I did this spell, I lost all I had left, it seems, sometimes: my family. I point my wand at the Death Eater, stunned on the floor, and whisper, quietly, 'Obliviate!' A thin trace of blue, and a clouded-over eye, a hollow inside. 'Let's go.'
'Wait.' I stop the leaving procession to fix the room with a wave of my wand, causing several objects and such to fly back into place. 'We can't leave them here, either.' Harry nods towards the Death Eaters. At that, we prop the Death Eaters up in the corner of a booth, and with that, leave the café, the debate on where to go still ongoing. 'Grimmauld Place.' Harry concludes, causing gasps from the majority.

'It's too dangerous.' Hermione whines, 'Snape can get in there!'
'Where else is there?' And that seems to conclude the discussion. Grimmauld Place is where we shall go, because we have no more options.

'What were you going to say earlier, Alyssia?'
'Well, what if it was nothing to do with timings or The Trace? Voldemort is a very accomplished Legiliment, and if Harry can see into Voldemort's mind, Voldemort can probably see into Harry's. What if we're overlooking things?'
'True, it seems very likely that that is what could have happned, but maybe we'll never know for sure.'
'So, Grimmauld Place?' Harry concludes, clearly not wanting to speak of the situation any longer.
'Grimmauld Place.' Is the chorus of replies. Grimmauld Place.

-*-

Grimmauld Place has never felt more welcoming to me. The sudden arrival of a patronus only just manages to startle me slightly, for I am so relaxed where I am. 'Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched.' The voice of Arthur Weasley is then extinguished, and an invisible density is lifted from the room. Hermione and Ron are rejoicing, when I notice Harry's expression. 'Do you promise you are okay?'
'Fine.' Harry replies. Hermione has now turned around, clearly feeling insensitive about what was just said, the whole family thing. Harry doesn't have a family, he can't hope anyone is safe. All he has is us. 'Bathroom.' Harry mutters, and I watch him leave the room, suspiciously.

It is hardly five minutes before I hear the commotion, and Hermione exchanges looks with me, rushing forward, but I stop her. 'You stay with Ron, he needs it. I'll go.' She opens the bag and summons a toothbrush, hands it to me, smiling weakly, whilst I leave the room, and approach the bathroom. 'Harry?' I knock on the door. 'I have your toothbrush if you want it.' The door is unlocked, and Harry takes it from me.
'Thanks.'

'Harry, do you promise you are okay?' I ask softly, as his face is twitching slightly. Before I know what he is doing, my arm is grabbed, and he locks the door behind him. 'Harry -' He quietens me and double checks the locked door, facing me, looking serious. 'I know you won't want to hear this, I understand that. But I just saw Voldemort -'
'Harry -'

'I know I'm not supposed to let him in. But what I saw you need to know. I saw the Death Eaters, they were being tortured. Voldemort was so angry. He wasn't torturing them, though. It was . . . Draco.' The last bit I hardly hear, Harry speaks so quietly. My mouth drops, and my hands fly to my face. I can tell that I have gone pale, the thought sickens me. 'He's using him to torture people, said he would torture him himself if Malfoy did not do it for him. And his face -'

'Oh, Harry, stop!' I cry, on the verge of tears. 'I thank you for telling me, I really do. It's just horrible! Why - what -' I cannot hardly string a sentence together, for I am so shaken. Draco being used to torture people. I can imagine the look on his pale face, the very one he wore when I was attacked by the Dementor, and I can imagine him, wand raised in fear, whilst Voldemort threatens against him. And the thought makes me feel sick.