Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

49 - Wicked Eyes

We followed my stag up the dark, dank steps of Azkaban, with Draco's bringing up the rear.

The horrifying sounds of grown men wailing and pleading for death filled my ears and broke my soul. Draco, as though sensing my terror, squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to his side.

"Are you okay?" he murmured above the echo of our footfalls.

"Not really," I shivered, "I hate it here."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, although why we were talking quietly, I did not know. It was just that kind of place. "I'm sorry I've made you come with me."

"I'd do anything for you, you know that by now," I murmured back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I do, and that is why I was selfish to ask."

I stopped mid step, turning to Draco as I lifted a hand to delicately dance my fingers against the firm porcelain skin of his cheek. "I'm glad you asked me, if this is important to you, then I want to be here for you."

He gave me a quick furtive kiss, wrapping his arms around me. "God, I'm so glad I've got you back in my life, Potter," he growled vehemently, resting his forehead down on mine. "I'm never letting you go again. Ever."

His grey eyes burned intensely into mine, and my heart fluttered, despite being in the middle of the most depressing place in the universe.

"Come on, we're almost there," I said, wanting to get it over and done with.

One flight of steps later, we were stood outside Lucius Malfoy's cell. His home for the past twenty-two years.

"Are you ready?" I asked, looking up at Draco as I placed the tip of my wand gently against the door.

I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat and his tongue swept nervously across his upper lip. His face paled.

I slipped a hand in his, his trembling fingers instantly clasping tightly around mine. Pale eyes met mine and he gave the merest of nods.

I unlocked the door with a tap.

Slowly, and with much creaking, it opened, revealing a figure slumped in the far corner of the small cell. A head slowly rose, and the lined, gaunt face of a man whom I no longer recognised as the proud Lucius Malfoy unveiled itself from behind a scraggy mass of dirty blond hair.

"Father." Draco spoke, his voice cold and hard, not betraying how nervous I knew he felt.

"S-Son?" Lucius stuttered, dull sunken eyes widening as they rested on his unexpected visitor.

Draco stepped fully into the room, and I followed. Suddenly, a great coldness swept over me and I felt the hopelessness squeeze my lungs. It took me a moment to realise that our stags had remained out in the corridor, forgetting that Patronuses were not permitted to enter the cell rooms.

A small, involuntarily shudder escaped Draco's lips, and his eyes flicked to the ceiling. I followed his gaze, my insides turning to liquid. The dark cloaked floating figure of a Dementor was hovering above us.

I tried to push away the distant screaming I could hear in my head. My mother. I closed my eyes and tried desperately to conjure up happy thoughts, but the screaming got louder, pushing any joyous memories away. I felt the room start to spin. I needed my Patronus - I could never cope being this close to a Dementor without one. Fingers grappled at my hand, and the coolness of Draco's skin against mine calmed me. He caressed his thumb across my knuckles and the action helped me to breathe, and eventually, the room stopped spinning.