Nothing to Lose

As I woke up some time later, I noticed that the courtyard was dark. As I crawled up, I saw Draco passing one of the windows in front of me, heading to dinner. I grimaced and walked to the door, ending up close to Draco. Up close, I could tell he had been punished as well. His left eye was bruised a grayish blue color, and his lip was cut and swollen. I gave him a weak smile, to which he replied with a curt nod. I closed my eyes, letting my tears fill them.

This was how it was going to be. Draco and I would be able to pass each other in the hallway and say a silent hello, and then we'd go to dinner like nothing happened. I wiped the tears away and, as quickly as I could, walked upstairs to change for dinner.

When I finally had put on decent clothes and hobbled down the stairs and into the dining room, nearly everyone was done eating, and had begun desert.

As usual, my seat was between Draco and the head of the table, where Voldemort sat. My father acted as though I didn't exist, so the others did as well. As a house elf brought me my food, I noticed a new Death Eater sitting across the table from me, on my father's right hand side.

He was old, with thinning grey hair. His robes clung onto him too tightly, as if he had gained weight since the time they were made. As he talked, he used his pudgy hands to exaggerate everything. His face looked a lot like a turtle, and I'm sure had Draco and I been able to talk, we'd have laughed about it together all dinner.

But, since Draco kept his icy glare directly above the man's head, I just ate quietly and tried to pay attention to what he was talking about.

When I finished, Voldemort called a house elf over, then stood up at the table. Everyone stopped all conversation, looking up at him like he was an Angel.

"As you all know, my followers, Dumbledore was killed, as planned, two nights ago." He stopped as Bellatrix Lestrange and the Carrow's burst into applause. "But, it did not go as planned. Draco was unable to perform the task I gave him, so Severus acted in his stead. But, do not fear, he will be unharmed because of this." He paused, as if adding dramatic effect would entertain better. "But, he was found with my daughter, and that will not go unpunished." Narcissa Malfoy took a shaky breath. I knew she was going through a lot of pain, since Lucious was still in Azkaban. She feared that she would lose her whole family because of me. "Now, please, follow Narcissa into the Parlor for a few rounds of firewhiskey." Narcissa nodded, and stood up, leading everyone except Draco and the turtle man into another room.

"Mira," he said to me, softly enough no one paid attention. "This is George Wilson. As punishment, you can either watch your boyfriend die or you'll marry Mr. Wilson."

I looked at Draco, my eyes tearing up at the thought that I was being used to punish him. I only saw his profile, since he wouldn't look at me. "That's unfair," I whispered, still looking at Draco.

"Life is unfair. You should have realized that when your mother decided to go kill herself. So what is it?"

I let the few tears trail down my face, and then threw my arms around Draco. I didn't expect him to return the hug, but still, I just wanted to. Still hugging him, I whispered, "If there was a place free of honor, could we be together?"

I pulled away and looked at him. He turned to me and smiled softly, "That place doesn't exist."

I nodded, wiping away the tears, and said, "I'll pretend it's you."

Voldemort, who interpreted the conversation as a marriage agreement, pulled the chair I was sitting in out from under me and sent me to the library, with Mr. Wilson and himself following.

As we walked through the hallways of the Malfoy manner, I kept my eyes wandering from the paintings to the tiled floor, trying to keep my eyes and myself, in essence away from the man who would be my punishment. The library seemed darker than usual, with the windows covered with the maroon drapes, and the only light coming from the few torches on the walls.

"So, my Lord, just like that," Wilson spoke, looking around the library. "I thought you said that it would be difficult."

"I didn't expect her to succumb without a decent fight."

I sank into one of the black leather couches, pulling a pillow into my chest. I was quite used to being ignored from conversation. I was the equivalent of a wife of the king of a medieval kingdom. I was there to look pretty and be graceful, not to have an opinion and voice.

"My darling," Wilson said, sitting on the couch next to me, "would you like me to heal the scars on your back?"

I shook my head. "No thank you, I'm perfectly fine."

He shook his head and stood up. "My Lord, when is the ceremony?" he asked, going back to ignoring me.

"Tomorrow night. Narcissa sent out the owls today."

"But you said she probably would put up a fight," Wilson responded, scratching his bald head in confusion.

"Do you honestly think that I'd turn down your offer? That I'd listen to her and not marry her off just because I said I wouldn't make her after killing her little friend?"

I pretended to be indifferent at his claim, but in reality, I wanted to run away from the library and just run away. But, of course, if I did, I'd ruin Narcissa and Draco's chances of being normal and safe. They were in the most danger. Since Draco had failed to please Voldemort, they still were in the bottom level of Death Eaters.

"Father?" I asked, looking up at him, meeting his eyes, and then pulling my head down in a bow, "Can I go to my room?"

He nodded, "Don't talk to that boy, Mirabel."

I nodded in obedience and walked back out of the library to my room. When I got to my room, I firstly noticed that my trunk was out of the closet, nearly full with clothes and necessities. As I walked inside, I saw Draco's pale silhouette come out from the shadows.

"Draco?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.

"We're leaving," Draco said, shutting the trunk and magically moving it to my balcony. "Now."

I shook my head, trembling at the thought of getting caught running away. "I can't."

"We have to," he pleaded, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his chest. "What else can we do?"

I shrugged my head and clung onto his suit coat. "What about your mum?"

"I found two dolls--"

I shook my head. "Play time is not going to help us, Draco," I spat, nervously running my fingers through my hair.

"--and I performed several spells on them. I enlarged them, gave them realistic organs, and made them look like us. They look exactly like us, enough that Voldemort won't recognize the difference. I put them in the garden. They'll think we both snuck out and committed suicide… or something. It will only work if we leave now."

"So, what we're going to run away and hope a couple enchanted dolls are enough to keep them away?"

"What have we got to lose?" Draco whispered, kissing my lips carefully and softly. "Everything we have is already lost."

I nodded and smiled. "But do you really want to let your mother think you killed yourself?" I asked, pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.

He shrugged, and asked, "How many have you loved before me?"
"None."

"And after me?" he asked again, his grey eyes lighting up.

"None," I sighed, smiling.

"Then we have nothing to lose."