Little Secrets

Chapter 20

Draco wasn't stupid. He had known he'd be screwed over as soon as his father aligned himself with the Dark Lord. Of course, he wasn't allowed to talk about what would happen if the Dark Lord did lose, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. Clearly he hadn't been wrong in the slightest when he figured he'd be escorted off to Azkaban without question. He'd considered trying to tell the Aurors he hadn't been on the Dark Lord's side, but the name Malfoy held certain expectations and no one would have believed him. At the very least, he knew Hermione would storm the Ministry and he wouldn't be stuck in the grimy prison for long. Arriving at the front gates was more than he had ever wanted to experience of Azkaban, though.

"Regret your choices yet, Malfoy?" an Auror sneered as he led Draco into the prison.

Draco kept his mouth shut as the Auror handed him off to a prison guard. He stayed quiet even when the guard grabbed him too tightly and shoved him around rougher than necessary. As he was escorted into a cell and a change of clothes was thrust into his arms, he scowled at the guard and waited for him to leave.

"Get changed," the guard ordered.

Draco kept his eyes narrowed at the man, waiting for him to leave. When he finally turned and walked away, Draco quickly changed from his robes into the prison uniform. Once he was dressed, he sat in the corner of the cell to await his cellmate.

He wasn't sure exactly what to expect. A part of him thought maybe they would keep all the Death Eaters separated to prevent them from joining forces. The other part of him was pretty sure the Ministry wouldn't find them a threat now that they were all stripped of their wands and locked away in the heaviest guarded prison known to wizards. When Mulciber was shoved into the same cell as him, though, Draco wished he'd managed to hide like a coward when the Aurors had shown up.

"I'll Avada that fucking kid myself next time," Mulciber grumbled. Draco looked away when he changed out of his robes, continuing to grumble threats about Harry Potter as he did so. "The Dark Lord was weak; I'd slice that motherfucker's head off myself just for a bit of fun."

Draco chose not to imagine Harry without his head and what that would have led to. Luckily for him, Mulciber's grumblings became too quiet to fully understand and Draco easily tuned him out.

There was no telling how long he would be in that cell with Mulciber before Hermione came to get him out.

He had no doubt she would come; it was just a matter of how long before she did. Would she come as soon as she had five minutes to spare or would he have to wait until the mess at Hogwarts was cleaned up? He knew there was no way she'd leave the Order and her friends to clean up on their own, but surely she'd come before his inevitable trial. He had no idea how soon the Ministry would want to officially convict all Death Eaters, but Draco didn't particularly want to spend longer than a couple of hours confined in a place with every single follower of Voldemort.

By the time the Aurors had finished bringing those at Hogwarts into Azkaban, it was loud. Some of the Death Eaters were yelling threats at the guards and the werewolves that had been captured were snarling along.

Draco remained in his corner while Mulciber and Dolohov led the cry for revenge. Clearly Azkaban had not been prepared to hold so many at once as some cells had three or even four wizards inside. Draco did notice with mild amusement that the werewolves were kept separately from the others.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Draco?" Mulciber sneered from the gate of their cell. Draco spared him a bored glance and was unsurprised to see a wicked sneer was spread across Mulciber's ugly face. "Join the fun, won't you?"

"Only those with empty heads think empty threats are fun," Draco retorted. Mulciber glared at him but returned his attention to harassing the lone guard walking down the hall.

Once the guards stopped coming through, the jeering and empty threats ceased and most everyone retreated into their cells. Dolohov and a few others stayed up talking about ways to get out; to revive the Dark Lord or even create a new one. Draco tried to ignore them.

At some point, Draco noticed his father was in the cell across from him, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't move in acknowledgment. He stayed where he was and continued to ignore Mulciber's crude depictions of what they should be doing right now.

"They'd be in the rags and we'd be reigning over them," he growled.

Draco just blinked in response. He'd heard enough about Mulciber's disgusting slave trade idea the past week to last him a lifetime. If he had to listen to it more in Azkaban, he was certain he'd tear the man limb from limb without magic. Luckily for him, Hermione was sure to come or at least tell someone to get him before he could be driven too far insane. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be her biggest priority.

Draco saw more of the guards the following morning when they brought them all food, but he didn't see Hermione. When they'd first walked in, he'd thought perhaps they were escorting Hermione in to get him. Seeing a pot of porridge lying on the ground had only disappointed him further and he remained still in his corner.

Most of the others seemed content to yell at the guards whenever they walked through. Aside from the occasional glare or glance, the guards seemed to ignore the yelling. As he listened to Greyback snarl threats at every passing guard and his pack hoot in agreement, Draco couldn't help but hope someone other than Hermione would be the one to escort him out of Azkaban. He wasn't so much afraid of the Death Eaters and wolves seeing him with her, but more about what they would shout at her if she were to walk into the hallway and pass the many cells before his.

He spent all day wondering what was going on at Hogwarts. He hadn't seen Blaise or Pansy, so they'd been pulled away from the Aurors before they could be taken away to Azkaban. Who else of his friends had Hermione been responsible for keeping safe? He hadn't seen any of his classmates or friends in Azkaban so far, but there was no way she'd made it around in time to talk all the Aurors out of taking them. Had Potter and Weasley helped?

Perhaps Severus's tie to the Order had provided a foolproof way to know which students had and hadn't been for the Dark Lord's reign. Perhaps, however, that was why he was still there. Had Severus forgotten about him or had he been too busy to talk to the Ministry officials on his behalf? Without knowing what was going on at Hogwarts, how was he to know when trials would start or when he'd be let go?

As Rabastan Lestrange shouted a cry for vengeance and other Death Eaters cheered, Draco was hit with a sinking worry. What if he wasn't going to be let out? What if he was being left as an example? The son of a Death Eater: made into an example for not speaking out against them. If that was the case, he was certainly screwed.