The Mudblood

Chapter 92 : Summer

Frainey fanart for this chapter was made by https://www.quotev.com/sophiesophiewinters

"How did you steal my wand from Bellatrix?" I asked Draco Malfoy as the two of us stalked through Diagon Alley toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"It wasn't very hard," he grunted lowly, his eyes darting around the street for signs of other life. "She doesn't sleep with it. Sure, she gloated about having stolen your wand for a while. She was rather proud for a few weeks, claiming that by stealing your wand she'd prevented you from doing anything stupid or brave, but then when Rookwood informed us that you'd managed to erase your brothers' memories and relocate them, she dropped the subject completely."

"Rookwood," I muttered with pure loathing. "I assume he's apprehended my brothers, then? He's brought them back to Voldemort so that they can be murdered?"

"No," Malfoy snapped as he glared over at me with narrowed eyes. "Urquhart was right when he said you'd become a cynical bitch."

"You gossip with Urquhart about me now, do you?"

"No, I only asked him if he knew where you were when I saw him earlier," Malfoy explained defensively. He avoided my eyes now as he looked ahead at the brick wall that separated the Alley from the Leaky Cauldron. "I understand now that losing a family member can...change a person... My father—"

"Oh shut up. You don't know anything," I barked with intended harshness. "I'm sure your father will be broken out of Azkaban as soon as Voldemort rises to power."

Malfoy's grey eyes lit up as his head spun toward me. "You Saw that?"

"No," I blurted, startled by his assumption. "Er—no. But if I do I'll, uh—I'll let you know." I stared down at the stone ground for a few moments, feeling ashamed, before I finally asked, "So, if Voldemort's not going to kill my brothers, what does he plan to do with them?"

"Nothing that I know of," Malfoy responded as he resumed his apathetic demeanor. "Rookwood was tracking your brothers for a long time, but he's not anymore."

"What's he doing now?"

"He's waiting," Malfoy said simply as we halted in front of the brick wall. I expected him to take out his wand and tap on the bricks, but he didn't have to before they began to shift and clear a path.

"What's he waiting for?" I questioned impatiently.

Malfoy nodded his head toward the open pathway between the bricks, at the center of which there was a hooded man whose pock-covered face I could recognize even in the night's dim lighting.

"You ugly-ass prat!" I exclaimed before lunging myself at the ever-complacent Rookwood. He remained completely still as Malfoy grabbed my arm and forcefully yanked me back.

"Let me go!" I shouted as I tried to wrench myself from Malfoy's grip. "He helped kill Lyle! He's evil—he's a murderer—"

"If I'm not mistaken, you aided in the murder of your brother as well," Rookwood cut in with an unctuous tone. I snarled before relinquishing my struggles and merely glaring at him with passionate enmity.

"You're hideous, you know," I spat at him. "Inside and out. I'm glad that James Potter made your face look just as foul as your soul. Say, is that why you wanted to join Voldemort? To avenge your face by killing James Potter's kid? Very noble of you, Rookwood."

Rookwood's lips pursed, but he did not make a response to acknowledge my taunting. "We must depart. The Dark Lord will be waiting."

"Oh, we wouldn't want to keep someone so wonderful and respectful waiting," I retorted with a tone drenched in sarcasm.