Monster

Eventually, the Malfoy family slipped away and escaped Hogwarts completely unnoticed. Draco wasn't surprised by that, though; no one had paid attention to them in the Great Hall anyway. The three walked towards Hogsmeade and their fate silently. They were all wandless: Lucius's wand had been blasted apart early last summer, and Draco's wand had been stolen by Potter. Narcissa alone had kept her wand until she had given it to Draco, who had lost it in the run to get out of the Room of Hidden Things.

Draco shivered, fully aware that they were unsafe. They had lived in this world for their whole lives with the protection of a wand and quick wit, but now they had as much protection as a weaponless Muggle. He drew his bedraggled cloak tighter around him in an attempt to seal in some heat against the chilling mist.

"Mr. Malfoy!" a voice carried from behind them, and the three Malfoys turned warily. Professor Slughorn hobbled along the ruined path to them, sidestepping a huge dead spider. "I was wondering where you three were going?" he huffed.

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a glance and took a small step backwards. "I'm afraid that we must be leaving," Lucius said in an undertone that made Draco flinch. He remembered the tone meaning that punishment was coming, and he felt a knife of fear run through him for Slughorn.

Professor Slughorn pulled out his wand from the inside of his tattered robes and pointed it at them. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm afraid I can't let you do that. You are very well-known Death Eaters, and the Aurors will soon arrive for you."

Draco rubbed his left arm, imagining how it would feel to be locked up. He couldn’t even imagine it. His father had been in Azkaban for a while; he came back colder and more closed off than before. If there was one thing Draco had learned this year, he did not want to become his father as much as he had before.

For a moment, Lucius almost looked smug. Draco could only imagine what he must be thinking. Most likely it was along the lines that the Dark Lord could save them as he always had. Something in his father’s face fell away once he must have realized that they no longer held the Dark Lord’s protection.

A shudder ran through Draco, part fear and part disgust; he felt like unprotected Muggle filth.

Beyond the gate that they had almost reached, a few pops signaled newcomers. The Malfoys tightened ranks and watched helplessly as Aurors swarmed forward to collect any straggling Death Eaters or magical creatures that had been on the Dark Lord’s side.

A rather pretty witch in her mid-thirties clamped her hand down on Draco’s shoulder and pulled him away from his parents a few feet. Her chipped green talons bit into a stretch of bare skin but he refused to flinch. She pressed her wand tip into his jugular, malice twisting her pretty features into something hideous.

He tried to glance back at his struggling parents but the Auror dug her nails into his flesh deeper.

“Get a good look at them now. You’ll never see your disgusting parents ever again, where you’re going,” she snarled, forcing him to look at his mother and father.

Narcissa looked up to Draco’s face. He could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes before she looked away again, still struggling against the two men who had captured her.

“Let’s just Stun them and lock them up,” the huge wizard holding Lucius said.

“Yes,” the witch replied gleefully. “I would really appreciate not having to listen to their pathetic whimpering on the way back.”

Even before Draco could hear their muttered words, he was out.



He woke up on a threadbare cot and automatically knew that he was not in Azkaban. The wizarding prison, his father had said, had no such comforts. Why would they? The place had already been swarming with dementors; who cared if the prisoners were comfortable while they slept?

Draco took a mental evaluation of his physical state. Other than just being sore and tired, he had all ten fingers and ten toes, and all his limbs were intact. He probably had quite a few bruises, but he was fine. He sighed in relief. He was alive – that’s what counted.

He continued to stare at the stone ceiling, listening to the distant screams of other prisoners. He pondered his location. He was obviously not in Azkaban, so perhaps the Ministry was keeping prisoners with them from now on.

He was grateful that he wasn’t in Azkaban, at least. No dementors here, he was sure. They were probably being rounded up as well, just like the Death Eaters.

Nearby, he heard shouting and he turned his head slowly towards the bars of his cell. Out in the corridor, a few Aurors struggled with someone who looked a bit like Rowle.

“You think you can find all of his followers, but you’re wrong. You blood traitor filth, get your paws off!” screamed Rowle as he kicked out at the same woman who had taken Draco.

Rowle looked over into Draco’s cell, a crazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “They got you, Draco? Just wait. We’ll break out soon. We always d–“

A big Auror silenced Rowle with a punch to the gut. “No one’s getting out of here,” he growled as they continued down the corridor to lock up Rowle.

Draco returned to staring back up at the ceiling, biding his time until he could break out of this hell.