He stood. She could feel that he was shaking. He was so pale; he might be bleeding somewhere. She wasn't sure. She looked dazedly around the room. The floor was covered in rubble, and the entire wall where the door had been was gone.
Lucius was slumped down in the cage in the centre of the room. His wrists were shackled to bars on opposite sides of the cage.
To prevent him from touching his Dark Mark.
There was blood pooling on the floor from a wound in his side.
Draco noticed what she was staring at. “It was the quickest way to deal with him.”
Lucius stirred and his head tilted back as he stared at Draco and Hermione. His hair had fallen over his face, but his eyes were glittering with rage.
“Why didn't you tell me what happened to your mother?” he asked, his voice a long snarl.
Hermione felt Draco's fingers twitch against her spine. He released a low breath. “What would you have done that wouldn't have killed her sooner?”
Lucius shifted, the metal shackles clanking against the bars. He jerked his head so he could see more clearly. “You should have told me. She was mine!”
Draco stared coldly at his father. “Yes. She was. And you saw to it that everyone knew it, didn't you? Even the Dark Lord. You never let her go. Not when she begged to run after my fourth year. You loved her right into her grave.”
Lucius paled through the blood obscuring his face.
Draco gave a bitter laugh. “It always baffled me that you believed the Dark Lord would have used me to punish you when he had her. I suppose you never were as creative as the Dark Lord.”
Lucius said nothing for several moments, then he cocked his head to the side. “What are you doing now? The Mudblood spread her legs to comfort you and so you imagine yourself saving her instead?”
Draco said nothing.
Lucius leaned forward. “You won't survive it. If she escapes, the Dark Lord will hold you responsible.”
Draco snorted. “I don't imagine there are many circumstances in which I survive the next several months even if she stays.”
Lucius' eyes narrowed. “You knew.”
Draco nodded with a cold smirk. “Information is my specialty, Father.”
He was outwardly calm, but Hermione could feel his entire body shaking.
Lucius shifted forward and studied Draco as if he were reevaluating him. His eyes were burning. “And what do you intend to do with me?”
“What do you think? You snapped and nearly compromised my assignment. In the process of recovering the Mudblood, I had to kill you. I have memories to corroborate it.”
Lucius nodded, seemingly unsurprised. “I want to see Narcissa.”
Draco hesitated and then nodded. “I imagine she'll speak to you now. I'll have the elves bring her portrait. You have until I return.”
Lucius was silent.
Draco turned towards the door. Hermione rested her forehead against his shoulder as he picked his way through the rubble. Her head lolled back.
“Just a little longer, Granger. Stay conscious for me.”
There was another sharp pain in her lower abdomen and she gripped his robes.
They were nearly out of the drawing room when Lucius spoke again.
“What would you do if I offered to save you, Draco?”
Draco barely reacted, he continued walking away without response. Hermione lifted her head and looked over his shoulder at Lucius.
His head was tilted back as he stared across the room at her, his eyes glittering.
“Phoenix tears, isn't it?” His lips parted in a rictus, revealing his bloodstained teeth. “How many do you need?”
A warning for readers: This chapter contains a scene containing a medical procedure and gore. Asterisks have been included to indicate the beginning and end of the section.
Draco still didn't stop, but Hermione squeezed his arm and tried to slip down. She stared at Lucius, her heart in her throat.
Draco paused. “Don't, Granger.”
“Draco — if he has Phoenix tears…” She forced him to set her down, gripping his arm tightly to keep herself upright as she looked wide-eyed at Lucius.
The blood was drying and crusting along his face. She had to squint in order to see him clearly from across the room.
“I would need fifteen tears,” she said.
Lucius tilted his head to the side, looking thoughtful. “How many tears would half a vial be?”
Hermione swallowed, her heart dropping with disappointment so sharp it was physically painful. “It depends on whether it's a standardized vial. A modern half vial is only about twelve drops.”
Lucius' eyebrows furrowed. “What if it were an older vial, from the fifteenth century?”
Hermione gave a small gasp and swayed on her feet. “They were bigger then. Do you — do you actually have Phoenix tears?”
Lucius smiled cruelly. “What would you do? What would you give me if I did?”
Draco scoffed. “Don't waste your time with him, Granger. The only reason he even cares is because I haven't produced an heir.”
He picked her up and walked away rapidly.
Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her through the house. Her head felt fractured, but she forced herself to focus through the pain.