Abyss

Abyss

It seemed like hours when, in reality, it had only been minutes since the last time they had said anything to each other. Each step they took was a burden; each breath they took was a sacrifice. The night was dark, foreboding; the air was thick with uncertainty, regret. Both were silent as they walked, and neither one was doing anything to remedy the unfriendly atmosphere around them.

Draco glanced around him every now and then, his face filled with impassivity that he did not feel he truly possessed. True, his demeanor was calm, cool, collected, and in the depths of his silvery eyes no amount of any emotion could be traced. He was a true master of disguise, this younger Malfoy. From a young, tender age he had learned to hide everything and anything deep within his vy soul, and at times when he was growing up he did not know if he could still feel at all, for he believed that all the layers he had effectively cloaked around his heart had successfully prevented him from actually feeling anything else besides indifference, besides apathy. But this time, he recognized fear; he could see it in the thick mist of the forest, he could hear it humming in his ears, he could taste its bitterness in his mouth. He could feel fear. It was a shame for a Malfoy to admit that he was indeed afraid... but his consolation, his reprieve? That the fear around him wasn't his alone.

He stole an unobtrusive glance behind him. He could see that Granger was rubbing her hands furiously over her arms in a pathetic search for warmth. There were two bright spots of pink that colored her cheeks, and her little nose was tinged with red. She was obviously cold. But of course she was cold; she was only wearing a nightgown, for crying out loud! True, the only clothes she had on covered her entirely from her neck to her toes, but the cloth was flimsy and ridiculously thin. She was cold. Without any other robes protecting her, she would literally freeze to death. Good, then, he thought severely, clutching at his robe proudly. Let her freeze.

How dare she voice that stupid assumption of hers like that? He'd just saved her ass, damn it... she should be grateful that he'd stepped right at the exact moment that Pansy had her wand pointed directly at her! But of course, for Granger to be grateful to him, a Malfoy... hell would have to freeze over first. Well, the second level of hell, that is, because the first one already froze when he saved her.

"You need to see for yourself that you can do something to prove that you are not evil. You want redemption, Malfoy. That's why you saved me. That's why you've been tolerating my presence all along." He snuck a glance at her again, his eyes stormy and angry. Idiot girl, he seethed, his hands curling to fists on his side. You can't possibly know... you can't possibly understand anything about me. You think you know so much... but you know so little. You know so little when it comes to the bitter, harsh facts of life, Granger...

Draco stopped suddenly, his instincts on the alert. He could hear Granger stop as well, but before she could sk anything, he'd already clamped a hand over her mouth, his movements quick and stealthy. He knew he surprised her with his actions. "Shh," he instructed as he glanced at her widened eyes. "I hear something."

He listened intently, and a few more seconds elapsed before Draco finally realized what it was. Without thinking, he dropped his hands on her shoulders and pulled her, then shoved her unceremoniously behind a tree. "Don't make a sound," he whispered frantically. Without any other words, he took his wand out of the confines of his robes and handed it to her.

Granger looked questioningly at his wand before she raised her eyes to him. "What--"

"It's them," he explained. "They're coming for me. Look, we don't have much time... I want you to have this wand. Use it. It's going to lead you to safety. It's going to allow you to hex anyone... except me, of course. But don't use it yet. Not now. They can't know that you're still alive."

style="text-indent: 0.00mm; text-align: left; line-height: 4.166667mm; color: Black; background-color: White; "> "Malfoy--"

"Shh!" he hissed again. He grabbed her hand and placed his wand on her open palm when she still refused to take it from him. Draco squeezed her hand painfully tight before he let her go. "I will find you," he said to her. "My wand will tell me where you are, and as soon as I can, I will come to you. I would

"DRACO!"

He looked behind him as he heard a masculine voice shout his name; the voice came from a place not so very far away from where they were. Whoever was looking for them was already frighteningly, dangerously close. Draco then turned towards her again. "Be quiet," he ordered her. "Your life depends on it. Don't make any noises. Don't even breathe too loudly. Don't move too much. Count up to three hundred; we'll be gone by then. Only then can you leave."

She stared at his wand on her hand, and then raised her eyes to meet his again. "You'll come for me?" she asked uncertainly.

Draco stared at her frightened eyes, and tried in his damnedest to soothe her fears away. "I will find you," he repeated with deeper, stronger conviction. "You can bet your self-righteous arse that I'd come for you."

*

He stepped away from the shadow of the tree just in time to see the silhouette of the intruder coming towards him. Draco immediately began walking away from the tree to meet the other halfway. A few more steps and he now recognized the one who was looking for him. It was one of the Slytherins.

"Draco!" Goyle muttered, as he saw that Malfoy waapproaching. He doubled over and rested his palms over his knees. He was panting for breath.

"What is it, Goyle?" Draco asked him, finely, appropriately covering his anxiety with annoyance. "Did you know that you just scared my prey away with all your howling?"

Goyle looked up at him. "P-prey?" he asked, as he still labored to catch his breath. "W-Who?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Some Gryffindor flesh. Never you mind." He tapped his foot impatiently against the forest grounds. "So? What is it, then? What did you come here for?"

The other Slytherin finally straightened himself up. "Your father told me to c-come and get you," he answered. "He said...he said..." Goyle swallowed, seemingly hesitant to continue. "Draco, Pansy...she's dead."

"The Killing Curse," Goyle replied in a low tone.

Draco allowed a scowl to darken his features. "Who did it?"

"Your father doesn't know," Goyle said. "At first, he thought it was that Mudblood who did it, but--"

He took a step towards the larger Slytherin. "What do you mean my father thought that Mudblood Granger killed her?" Draco asked in a dangerous tone.

Goyle swallowed again, intimidated by the imposing stance of the younger Malfoy. "She's the only one who has the knowledge," he answered. "But then, your father... Mr. Malfoy said she didn't... the spell did not come from her wand. It came from another's."

"Does my father know whose wand it came from?"

Goyle shook his head.

Draco was immensely relieved by this, but of course, outwardly he looked convincingly outraged. "Too bad," he muttered. "Now I'll just have to kill every Gryffindor I come across just to avenge Pansy's death." He looked at Goyle. "Go on, then. I'd come back to the castle later, I have to find myself someone to blame."

"Your fathsks that you come to him immediately," Goyle told him.

He grimaced. "I'll come when I feel like coming."

"Your father asks you to come to him now," Goyle repeated. "He said I should take you to him."

Draco stared at Goyle. He had no other choice; he had to go. He was sure Goyle would do anything to ensure that he would bring his assignment to 'Mr. Malfoy', and seeing that he had no wand and his built was considerably less than Goyle's...truly, he had no choice. "Fine," he barked. "Take me to my father."

But before they left, Draco unobtrusively glanced at the tree where Granger was hidden behind, and hoped for the best for them both.