PROTECTION ♞ h.p.

9. A Tangled Web

Any passing Muggle probably wouldn't notice the small castle perched precariously on a hill in a forsaken corner of Scotland. It appeared to be nothing more than a crumbling ruin, forgotten and half hidden by large trees and thick ivy. The doors and windows were broken or missing and the roof looked to have buckled many years before. One wall had collapsed inward, throwing the entire structure off balance. If you didn't know to look for it, you would probably miss it completely as you drove by on the small winding road below. The path leading up to the building was overgrown with twisted vines and tangled branches, making it almost impossible to reach on foot.

With a small pop, a lone wizard appeared in front of the building. He held his cloak closed against the wind as he stared at the ruins. What he saw, however, was not a pathetic pile of stones. Instead he saw the castle as it should have been, with its walls firm and sturdy, the doors and windows intact and lights flickering from several of the windows.

Approaching quickly, the wizard ran up the few steps to the door and rapped with his knuckles. He didn't wait for a response; he simply pushed the door open and went inside.

A house elf met him in the entrance hall but he didn't bother to remove his cloak. Heading straight to the study, he reached for the handle. The door was locked and the wizard frowned when he realized it was magically sealed as well.

His fist was poised to knock when a voice spoke behind him.

"I wouldn't bother, Nott," the wizard said, causing him to turn around.

"Goyle," he greeted with a nod. "Did he get it?"

"We don't know," Goyle shrugged. "He just got back and he's sealed himself in. Didn't speak to anyone and won't open the door. You'll just have to wait."

Nott turned back around, hesitating as he considered knocking for a moment before deciding against it. Instead he turned away again and headed down the hall after Goyle.

Inside the lavishly furnished study, Malfoy was draped across a black leather sofa. Having abandoned his robes, he was wearing only a pair of black trousers and a crimson stained shirt. He groaned miserably as his head rested against the arm of the sofa, his eyes swollen shut.

Carrying a bowl of warm water and a cloth, Pansy crossed the room toward him. At the sound of him in pain, she sped up and sank down on the sofa next to him. Leaning over him, she studied the damage to his face. Malfoy's hand moved to grip her hip as she took in the odd angle of his nose and his black eyes with a frown.

Setting the bowl on the table next to her, she dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out. Keeping her eyes on Malfoy as she moved, she tried to discern his mood. She wasn't sure yet if he was angry, or simply injured. She didn't dare ask if he had been successful.

Gingerly, she began to clean the blood from his face. Her free hand moved to cradle his cheek, caressing his skin before she trailed her fingers down his neck. Her gaze traveled down to his blood-soaked shirt for a moment before she inadvertently bumped his nose with the cloth.

"Ow!" Malfoy snapped as his eyes shot open. He squeezed her hip tightly as her gaze met his guiltily.

"I'm sorry, baby," she purred, running her hand down his chest in a soothing gesture.

"Be careful," he warned and she nodded quickly.

"It looks like you were hit by a Bludger," she commented as she set the cloth down on the table. He remained silent, providing no clues about what had happened.

"Who did this, Draco?" she queried hesitantly, still uncertain what he was feeling. She knew better than to question him when he was angry. Over the years she'd learned to read his moods and was usually good at not upsetting him more. "What happened?"