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<b>TRIANGLE DISEASE – Part II

CHAPTER TEN – RAGE OF A DARK LORD</b>
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Scribbler’s note: (1) if you’re interested in seeing Pansy’s house, go to http://architecture.about.com/od/periodsst.../Italianate.htm

(2) For a picture of Pansy, go to: Pansy Parkinson

(3) If you want to see a photo of what who I think Ginny Weasley looks like. It’s a picture I found on Domai.com - email me at the_scribbler@shadowgard.com

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A/N – from Chapter Nine

Harry wanted to rip of her dragon-hide armor and take her, roughly, right where they stood. He knew that they couldn’t join like that, though. No one was supposed to see how their magic connected.

Harry tore himself away from her hold. “God damn it, Ginny.” Harry swore like a muggle. “I want you so much I can taste it. Taste you. Let’s get this fucking shipment done to Gringotts and get home. I need you now.”

With a resigned sigh, Ginny summoned Team Three to the port-key apparation point while Harry did a sweep of the grounds with his magic detector.

Satisfied that everything and everyone had been accounted for, Harry walked the two hundred meters back to where Team Three stood waiting. Everyone still had wands out and was standing back to back, just in case. The darkness of the night and the lack of moonlight were unnerving to all of them. He could sense their unease and so he held his wand aloft and thought Lumos maxima.

The light from Harry’s wand seemed to settle the teams’ collective nerves. Ginny made a port key for the team to use – a long, thin rope – and on the count of three; the team disappeared into the night, taking the light of Harry’s wand with it.
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House Malfoy had never hosted someone of such power, Lucius Malfoy thought. Not in the five hundred years since the Castle had been built had a dark lord entered its doors.

“My home is yours, my lord, for as long as you have need of it.” Malfoy said, kneeling before his master.

“Thank you, my slippery friend. I see that you have not renounced the old ways, even in your sanctum sanctorum.”

“No, my lord. The old ways are the only ways for wizards.” He didn’t say ‘pureblood’ wizards, for he, among the very few, knew that Lord Voldemort was not a pureblood wizard, but rather had been sired by a mudblood.

“Rise, Lucius. You don’t do me any good on your knees”

“Thank you, my lord. I live to serve.”

“That is yet to been seen, Lucius. Right now, I have an assignment for you. Potter appeared before the Wizengamot on the First of November. My sources told me that Potter claims the votes of five great houses and has the support of the majority of the membership, and with that support, two thirds of the votes. Potter could call for the Ministers’ replacement, if he chose to exercise the power. I need to know what he is going to do if we eliminate the Minister. “

Lucius nodded. “I will do it, my master. I have sources as well.”

“There is another thing, Lucius. Theodore Knot attempted to kill Potter. Theodore was a fool, for his real target, Dumbledore, had been sitting right in front of him. Theodore thought that he would please me more if he eliminated the Potter brat. He didn’t do what he was told and he paid for it with his life. Dumbledore killed him.”

“My lord! Dumbledore has not killed since he destroyed Grindelwald in 1945. What caused him to kill your servant?”

“I do not know, Lucius. Not knowing bothers me, Lucius, and you must find out for me. Now, is your son here?”

“He is, my master. He awaits my bidding, as is proper. He knows to know enter your presence unless he has been invited to do so.”

“Very good, Lucius. You’re teaching him proper respect. That is good. Summon him now. I have an assignment for him.”

“Right away, Master.”

Lucius Malfoy could move with haste when he was motivated to do so. This night, his master was staying in their home, so there was no room for errors or inattention to any detail. Tonight, Draco was dressed in his best robes, to honor the Dark Lord.

It took two minutes for Lucius to summon his only son and then return to his masters’ presence. When Draco entered the room, he saw the Dark Lord for the very first time and was shaken to his roots with fear. Knowing what was expected of him, he walked quickly to his father’s side; fell to his knees, and prostrated himself.

After a proper amount of time had passed, Tom looked down on them and said “Rise, Draco. I am honored by your show of respect. It is far more than others of my servants have done.”

The elder Malfoy spoke for the family, as was his right “Thank you, my lord. We are grateful to be able to show you respect and to follow the old ways.”

“Then I will show you respect, Lucius, and give you both assignments. If you complete them, you will earn my favor and rewards for your service. If you fail, well, I will not be pleased and you will earn my disfavor. I believe that you know that is a bad thing, my silver-haired friend.”

“Do you want to know your assignment, Lucius?”

“Yes, Master. I want to know how I can serve you best.”

“Kill Dumbledore.”

Lucius blanched. He had not expected that particular assignment. It was well known that Dumbledore was the only wizard of whom his master had ever been afraid. Lucius knew he didn’t have the raw power to do it and he was genuinely afraid. He had always been better with striking from the shadows. Could he find a way? It was that or die at his masters’ hands, he knew.

He worried for his son. What was Draco going to be asked to do? The more he thought about it, the more he was afraid. He couldn’t lose his only son. He was too old to have another family and his relationship with his wife, Narcissa, had been poisoned for years because of Lucius’ devotion to the Dark Lord. Narcissa had said to him for years that he should have built his own empire and created his own following while the Dark Lord was gone and now the opportunity to do so had passed.

“Draco Malfoy. Step forward.”

Draco knew not to look Voldemort in the eye, but rather he looked at the spot where a man’s belt would be.

“Are you prepared for your assignment, Draco? You have yet to take my mark and I know that you wish to do so. Do you have what it takes?”

Draco was very hesitant. He must answer the dark lord, but he did not want to seem overconfident. “Yes, my master. I do. My father has trained me as well as he can.”

“Ah, yes. Your father. He certainly talks a good game, he does. But what I want to know is whether he is up to his assignment, Draco. You see, I have asked him, as perhaps you heard, to kill Dumbledore once and for all. The old man fooled my servant, Severus, the last time, and is back and as strong as ever. Severus paid for his misjudgment, Draco. Are you ready to pay for yours, if you make a mistake?”

“Master? I don’t know if I am or not, but I am willing to risk it to serve you.”

The dark lord threw back his head and laughed. “Good answer, Draco. That showed real courage to speak those words. If only my other servants were as brave as you.”

Draco did the thing that occurred to him and fell to one knee before saying ”Thank you, my lord.”

“Now Draco, let me tell you what I wish you to do.”

Draco stood, while continuing to look at the floor, lest he be thought to be impertinent.

“I want you to go to the home of Pansy Parkinson. Her parents have not been seen for a month, even though I have called them. Their daughter, Pansy, is to be brought back here and made to take the mark. If she refuses, kill her.”

“No.” Pansy was Draco’s girlfriend and his intended wife, when the war was over. She hated the dark lord; hated him with everything she had, because taking the dark mark had taken her parents away from her forever – or so she believed. She had a younger sister and brother to care for, all alone and with no one else to help her.

Lucius Malfoy looked at his son in horror. He had the terrified thought that he might lose him right in front of his eyes. “Draco! What did you say to our master?”

“I said no, father. I won’t do it.”

Lucius had no choice. He drew out his wand and yelled “Crucio” before the dark lord had to do it himself. Lucius felt it might be the only way to save his son.

Draco screamed and fell to the floor. He screamed as he had never screamed before. His muscles contracted and expanded, knotted themselves into horrible knots, and then released. The pain in his crotch was so intense that he felt like he had been bitten there by something terrible. The pain behind his eyes felt like a thousand knives stabbing into his head.

It went on and on until he could no longer focus on anything but wanting desperately to die.

When Lucius had heard more than his stomach could bear, he lifted the curse.

Draco’s eyes were hollow and he looked up at his father from where he lay on the floor and begged him “kill me, father. I beg you. Kill me.”

Lucius looked at his master with tears in his eyes. “I am broken, my master. I cannot do it. He is my only child. Spare him, I beg you.”

Lucius fell to his knees and placed his head next to his sons’. He didn’t know if the blow would come or not, but he could not watch it happen. Either way, he knew that he would lose Narcissa and that he might lose his son. He contemplated what his quest for power had cost him and he thought, for perhaps the first time, that it was not worth it.

“Bring me Dumbledore’s head, and I will spare your son, Lucius.”

“Draco, for the moment, I will spare you, because your father asks it of me. I will not, however, forgive you. No one comes to me, asking to take my mark, and then refuses me an assignment. Let us see just how strong you are. “Crucio”.

Draco screamed again. His last conscience thought was that if he survived this, he would run. Run to the one person who would protect him. Pansy would go with him.

Lucius watched his son being tortured. He hoped that Draco would get away. Even if he had to leave England. Somewhere, anywhere, was a better place than this. Could he help him? Did he dare? Going after Dumbledore was a suicide mission, after all. Did he dare not go after him, though? What would stop him from running, “rabbiting” he thought the Americans called it, and putting as much distance between him and the dark lord as possible? One person: Caliban Montesquieu du Monteford, the dark lords’ personal bloodhound. Kill him and he might have a chance. His son might survive as well. Narcissa would be safe.

Suddenly, Lucius Malfoy started crafting a plan. First he had to survive this night and get his son away.

Dumbledore.

Maybe.

Have I done stupider things? Stupider than defying the dark lord? No. But I’m not the only one who has defied him. Five times now? Or is it six?

Potter.
Do I have a choice? No.

Not if I’m going to live to enjoy what life and wealth I have left.

If Draco lives tonight, I’ll get him out of here. I still have certain friends.

Please, Merlin. Let Draco live. Please.

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It seemed forever before the dark lord finished torturing Draco. Lucius had vomited once he was outside of his master’s presence, for he remembered what had happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, after Bellatrix had finished with them. They were still in St. Mungo’s long-term care facility for the mentally infirmed.

Draco was twitching and foaming at the mouth, but he was still breathing. There was no magical cure for the horror of the cruciatus curse. However, there was a muggle remedy for it. Firewhiskey. Mixed with lemon juice, warm water, and sugar.

He would never have known about it if he had not heard Tom, the barman at the Leaky Cauldron, talking about it one night.

Lucius had carried his son to his bedroom and gently laid Draco down. He summoned one of the house-elves, and very quietly, with greater kindness than the house-elf had ever seen before, Lucius told the elf what his son needed and begged him to hurry.

Sooner than he could have imagined, the house-elf was back with a very large mug that was warm to the touch. Lucius put his hand behind Draco’s back and helped him to sit up, so that he could drink from the mug.

After a few minutes, once Draco had consumed most of the drink, Lucius helped him to lie down again. A wave of a wand and Draco was dressed for bed. Then Lucius did something that Draco would remember for the rest of his life. He leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead and said, “I love you Draco. I couldn’t let you die. I am so sorry that I had to hurt you. The dark lord would have killed you. Please forgive me.”

Draco was far gone into the pain of the horrible cruciatus curse, but not so far gone that he could say “s’alright, father. I love you too.”

Draco had not told his father that he loved him for almost ten years and hearing him say it destroyed, once and for all, any loyalty that he might have had to the dark lord. He knew in that moment what he had to do and how he had to do it. The question remained whether he could hide his thoughts long enough from his former master to get his family safely away.
He knew how he had to begin. The question was, could he do it? He had to try, but he didn’t know if he had the right stuff – the right memories – to make it happen.

Narcissa. Our wedding day. Yes, that was it. That is what he would focus on. He had been told that Harry Potter had been able to use this charm since he was fourteen. He had not believed it then. Hadn’t wanted to believe it. How could a boy be so powerful? Powerful enough to drive away over five hundred dementors. Was that why the dark lord was so afraid of the boy? Because he has happy enough memories or enough love to conjure a Patronus of that strength?

Did it matter that Potter could do it? Only if you’re going to spend any more time comparing yourself to him.

Too much time had been wasted already. He was going to have only one shot at this, so he had to get it right. He sat down on the back steps of his castle, well away from where the dark lord was currently staying. He cleared his mind and thought about his wedding day. How beautiful she looked and the radiance of her eyes. He thought about the golden glow that surrounded them when they said their vows. She had used the old pledge – a promise of life-long faithfulness and binding her magic to his – and he had done the same for her. He remembered the powerful sense of purpose and love that he felt for her when they had kissed…

Yes, that would do. Focus on that.

He did. “Expecto Patronum!”

From the end of his wand came a powerful looking eagle, with long claws and glinting eyes. Lucius closed his eyes and conjured a scroll of parchment, which hung in the air before him. He took his wand and used the tip to write the message which his Patronus would carry. Once he was satisfied, he sent the silvery eagle on its way. Then he prayed.

After that, he snapped the wand which he had used to cast the Patronus charm. No point having that bit of magic show up in a priori incantatum spell. He summoned a new wand from his collection and pointed the wand at an errant spider that was climbing up the side of the house. “Crucio”. And just as fast has he had cast it, he released it.

Satisfied that the first part of his plan was done, he walked down the hallway, to where Narcissa was sleeping. She had to know what he was going to do, because he was going to need her help. It was a risk to tell her, but less of a risk than not telling her. She was just as powerful has he, magically, and perhaps the two of them could do things that neither could do alone. They had never tried to share magic, but it was something that he had always wanted to do, secretly. He should have told her years ago. He wanted her to know his heart – should have shared his heart with here from the first night they were together. How do you correct a mistake like that?

He didn’t know, but he promised himself he would try. If he was lucky, he and Narcissa would have another hundred years together. He wanted them to be happy years. More, he wanted her to be happy.

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Two days later, their one chance to survive came knocking at the door. Dolohov. Lucius knew him by his smell and by his brusqueness. The man didn’t stop when he saw Lucius at the doorway, but rather walked in and past him without a second thought. “I need to see the dark lord now.”

Lucius almost wanted to send Dolohov in while the dark lord was sleeping. It would have been at least interesting to see how long Dolohov lived after disturbing Voldemort. However, that would have disturbed Lucius’ plans as well. Narcissa was packing up those things that they had to have with them and preparing, quietly, to transfer what liquid assets they had to a more secure location. So far, the plan had proceeded better than he could have ever hoped. A Patronus in the form of a great, multi-horned stag had found him in the early hours of the morning, giving them a name, Godric’s Hollow and an address. 54 James Lane, Ottery St. Catchpole.

Something unnerved him about that Patronus. First, he was certain that it was not Dumbledores’. His was known to be a phoenix. Second, something Severus Snape had said many years ago nagged at him. Something he should remember. He looked at the address which he had written down: 54 James Lane. James. James Potter. Prongs…..

That was it. Harry Potter’s father was an animagus. His form was a stag. Harry’s Patronus then was ..a stag. The dark lord would be very interested in that piece of information. It was a shame that he was never going to get it. Or anything else for that matter. Lucius had made his choice. If he could survive it.

Dolohov looked at him. “Are you going to take me to see our master or not?”

“Our master is asleep. If you want to disturb him, you’re welcome to do so. However, I doubt that you’ll live long enough to get out whatever it is you came barging into my house to say.”

“Perhaps you can tell me and I will tell him when he wakes. I will be dinning with him later on and I am sure that it would be no problem to pass on your message to him.”

Dolohov hissed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Lucius. To be our master’s favorite. To be his right hand. I’m sorry, but that slot’s full right now. I’m our master’s favorite. He’s going to make me his right hand when we defeat the Potter brat and take over the Ministry.”

“Yes, and whoever kills the brat and the muggle-lover Dumbledore first will, I’m sure, be the one to earn our master’s undying love. And since I’m the one whom our master has asked to kill the muggle-lover, you’ll forgive me if I don’t accede our master’s beneficence quite yet.”

Dolohov’s face went red and he might have thought to go for his wand when Nagini came into view. One of the gifts that Lucius had received from his former master was the ability to understand Parseltongue. Nagini hissed at him ‘come, our master calls.’

“Come, Dolohov. Our master is awake and seeks our presence.”

The two men, one in house robes and the other in his dress Silver and Black Robes, with a silver serpent on the back and sleeves, entered the Castle’s great room. There were fireplaces at either end and doors at each end that led out to other hallways and to the kitchens.

Voldemort stood at one end, facing the fire. Lucius saw that Voldemort had his wand in his hand and it worried him. He wondered, idly, how long he’d last in a duel against the dark lord. Probably not as long as Potter did, he reflected. It was an embarrassing, shameful thought, but it was probably true. “Master” Lucius said as he knelt. “You called of us?”

“Yes, rise, Lucius. I called for you for I could feel Anton’s presence here. I was most anxious to hear his report.”

“Anton, my trusted servant. What news do you have for me? Were you successful in your efforts at Durmstrang?”

Dolohov’s face paled. He was sure that he was going to pay for his mistakes. Whether he lived or not was contingent on whether he passed the blame to Bellatrix, and the Parkinson’s.

“Master. I..we failed you.”

Voldemort’s speech became more sibilant “What do you mean, Anton? What do you mean we?”

“Master, Bellatrix, I, and the Parkinson’s planned the raid on Durmstrang. I was in charge of setting up the transfers that I expected that our forces were going to make after they returned from the Castle. I was supposed to find places for the recruits to stay and places for them to train, and to make sure that Goblins did what we told them to do. I didn’t go on the raid itself. That was Bella’s job. She said it would be a good training mission for some of the new recruits. I’ve not heard from her since then. When I went to check the castle myself, it was empty. The students were all gone, the library was gone and the vaults were empty.”

Voldemort’s eyes flared red and his voice took on a very, very hard edge. Lucius backed away, towards the door. Voldemort was not watching him.
“Empty! What do you mean, empty? Was there nothing there? I am particularly interested in a silver box with an R on it. It was very special to me and the headmasters at Durmstrang were supposed to look after it for me. Are you telling me that there was nothing there?”

“Yes, my master. I couldn’t even find the bodies of your followers. I don’t know what happened. I tried to trace for magical signatures, but it felt like someone had deliberately erased everything.”

“So, are you telling me that 34 of my followers are gone? That there is not a single trace of them? And the gold and the items in the vaults are all gone?”

“Yes, my master, they are gone. I don’t know how, or where, but they are gone. I believe that Potter had a hand in it, but I can’t prove it. There’s no evidence that he was ever there. I did find the headmaster, Nameinoff, but he was had been chained up in the Foyer and was naked, cold, and dead. Obviously someone hated him enough to do that to him, but I don’t know who it was.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Show me what you saw! Legilimens !”

Dolohov screamed as he felt his mind being forced open for his master’s inspection.

Lucius saw his opportunity. He stepped out into the hallway, out of site of the dark lord, and then ran to the master bedroom, where Narcissa was standing. He was panting when he said, “Do you have everything?”

She looked at him. “It’s all done, my husband. Draco is weak, but he can travel. We’ll have to do side-along apparition, until he is stronger.”

“Gather our things and meet me in Draco’s room. We’ve got to hurry now.”

Lucius ran the thirty steps to Draco’s room and saw his son sitting up in his bed, He was dressed, but looking weak. On the floor sat two big bags and a Hogwarts school trunk. Lucius pointed his wand at them and they shrank until they could be put in his pocket. Narcissa walked in, wearing a heavy traveling cloak. She pulled the remaining traveling cloak from Draco’s closet and wrapped it around him. Then the three of them sat on the bed and Lucius counted “one, two, three…”

The three of them disappeared and the re-appeared at the end of the Property, just inside the gate. Narcissa took Draco’s hand and the three of them walked out through the wrought-iron gate and down the carriage lane until they were around the corner, out of site of the Castle. Then Lucius pulled out a small disk, the size of a luncheon plate. “Draco, show me in your mind where Pansy lives. We’re going to go and get her and take her with us. I’ve never done anything for you to be happy about, but I’m going to try to change that. If you and Pansy are happy together, I want you to be together.”

Draco looked up at his father, as if he were a stranger. “Father, what has happened to you? You are not the same person you were three days ago.”

“Draco? Many things have become clear to me and when we are safely hidden, I will tell you what has happened. Until then, we have to flee. Now, please show me where Pansy lives.”

Draco closed his eyes and opened his mind so that his father could see where Pansy’s family lived. In a moment, Lucius was into his mind and then back out of it. “I’ve got it.” He took a flower from the garden hastily and pointed his wand at it “Portus. On three. One, two, three…”

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Cinder Hill, Cheshire, UK.

Pansy was running around their family home, chasing her younger brother, Graham. He kept asking her where his father was and Pansy could not tell him. She knew, in her heart, that they were gone – dead – but there hadn’t been bodies to bury and there was no way to tell Graham that they were never coming back. She would have cried, if she had time, but she was it for them. She was their guardian now, even if wizarding law didn’t recognize it.

The house-elves were gone. They had fled when they felt their masters die. The fact that the house-elves had left was proof enough that Reginald and Tesa Parkinson, her parents, were dead.

Pansy’s only piece of luck was that she as of age and had inherited everything. The family vaults contained enough funds that she would be able to get her younger brother through school without her having to work.

She wondered if Draco knew what had happened to her parents, but she dared not ask. Lucius Malfoy was a vicious death eater who had tried to kill Harry Potter. She had heard Dumbledore announce that the dark lord had returned and that it was he who had killed Cedric Diggory. If there was no other reason to hate the Voldemort, Cedric’s death was enough.

Draco. She had never told anyone but him how much she loved him. His deep blue eyes, his platinum blond hair, his smile. Oh god, his smile. When Draco was himself, and not the ‘leader of the pack’, he was kind and gentle and so good to her.

She had hoped that someday he’d realize that the dark lord was not the only way to happiness and that there could be just the two of them. She never dared dream that it could happen, though. There were so many things that had to be changed…so much that stood in the way. She had a brother and sister to look after. She didn’t know how she was going to be able to continue with school, or anything.

“Graham!...oh please…don’t do that with the paint!”

Graham was running down the hall, haphazardly repainting the walls as he went. Pansy took out her wand and was cleaning up the paint as she went. It was all that she could do to keep him in check. She didn’t mind, though, somehow. She loved him and was glad that he and Danella were still alive. They were so young that there was reason to believe that they would be targeted by the dark lord. Her own life…that was something else entirely. She knew that by resisting, she would probably be killed. Unless…

Would he protect her?

She had treated him so badly when she had been at Hogwarts. Laughed at him. Made fun Hermione. That’s going to come back to bite me, I think. I should have just kept my mouth shut at school. Couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could I? Mom and Dad tried to tell me.

Did she dare ask him? Would he protect her brother and sister? She thought that he would. He had always been kind. When Cedric had died, it was Potter who had brought him back and it was Potter who had wept over his body. She had seen his tears from were she had sat in the stands. Potter. Had to get to Potter. Send him an owl? Maybe. Not fast, but it will have to do. Should have learned the Patronus charm.

Pansy suddenly found herself thinking about all the things that those in the DA had learned. Powerful, effective curses, counter-curses, hexes, jinxes, and most powerful – the Patronus charm. All of Harry’s friends could do it, she heard. Not just Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, but lots and lots of them. Even Neville, apparently. I was so stupid. I could have signed up and learned that stuff. Then she snorted. Ya, right. As if Harry would have let me. Too close to Draco and the rest of the Slytherins who had gone bad.

Pansy raced to find her owl. He was at the back door of the kitchen – the one that went out to the garden. She took him down and tied a hasty note onto his leg. Once it was attached, she begged him to find Harry for her. Better now than later, she thought.

Time to get packing. Don’t know how long the house will take to pack in its entirety. Maybe Danella would watch Graham for a few minutes. She loved him and even though she was only nine, she could play with him and keep him company. Can’t take everything…but enough so Graham and Danella be happy and comfortable. Just so long as she got them to safety.

She had to try. It was the only way she was going to survive. Maybe once she was in hiding, she would write to Draco. Tell him that she was alright and that she missed him very much. Better get started.
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The three apparated across the street from Pansy’s house. It was a beautiful, three-story Italianate-style cream-colored house and it was well located against the drumlin behind it. The only thing that the house didn’t have was the traditional cupola at the top, but the lack of it actually made the house more appealing. There was almost always a breeze and the house was oriented to take full advantage of them.

The beauty of the house, its grace and its spaciousness, was completely lost on Draco. He had never cared about houses, except in thinking that his parents’ home was bigger than everyone else’s.

“Draco. Will she come with you if you ask? Does she know what happened to her parents?”

“If she doesn’t know by now, Father, she’s not the witch I think she is. I’m sure that she’s figured it out. I hope that she’s not still so mad that she throws a fit.”

“Tell her son that we don’t have much time. The dark lord will have figured out by know that we’ve fled and so we have to hurry. I hope that this young witch of yours can travel light.”

“She’s very resourceful, Father. I know that she’ll do what she has to. She wasn’t put in Slytherin for nothing.”

“Go get her then and bring her out. Tell her where we are going. Make sure that she understands that we don’t know what we’re facing, but that it’s better than what we are leaving. The Malfoy line will survive.”

Draco smirked. His father’s insinuation was not lost on him. Lucius knew that if his son and this young witch cared for each other, that she’d be pregnant just as soon as they were finished with school. Draco would use that to make sure that she didn’t leave – or maybe to show her that he wouldn’t leave. If anything, Lucius was more confused about his son than he had ever been. He had never known him to be so concerned for a witches’ wellbeing before.

“Go. Tell her to hurry.”

“Yes, father.”

Draco walked, albeit hurriedly, to the front door of the house, and knocked on the front door. Like most wizarding homes, those who had not been explicitly invited to do so could not apparate into the home itself. As Draco had been to Pansy’s home only once before, to meet her parents, he had not been extended a personal invitation to apparate in directly.

Draco suspected that the real reason was that there were blood wards at work in and around the house and that’s why he could not apparate directly into the home.

It took almost a minute for anyone to answer the door. Danella opened the door and looked at Draco Malfoy. For a moment, Danella didn’t recognize him. Then the silver hair and blue eyes clicked with her. “Draco! Hi! Come in. Pansy’s upstairs, packing.”

“Packing?” Draco was confused.

“Yea, we’re leaving. She won’t tell me where we’re going, but she kept talking about someone called Harry. I don’t know what she means, but she’s talking to herself. Do you know what she means?”

“I think I do, but I better go talk to her.”

Draco knew exactly what Pansy was thinking. It was the same thing his father was thinking. The only place to run was to wherever Harry Potter was staying. He had survived encounters with Voldemort more than any other person in the wizarding world and if there was going to be a survivor, better to bet on the one person who had repeatedly defied the dark lord and lived to tell about it.

He took the stairs, carefully, one at a time, until he reached the third-floor landing. Every step cost him pain. He realized that, whatever his father had given him to drink, had helped more than any magic could have. He didn’t want to think about what he would have been feeling without it.

“Pansy! You up here?”

“Draco? Is that you?”

Pansy came out into the main hallway on the third floor and saw her boyfriend standing there. He looked like he had been worked over repeatedly by someone who really hated him. His face was laggard and his breathing was shallow. By the way he was holding himself up, Pansy could see he was in pain.

As she got up close to him, she looked him up and down. “Draco? What happened. You look awful.”

Draco reached a hand out and held it to her face, more tenderly than he had ever done before. He hesitated to tell her what had happened, but at the same time, felt that she probably ought to know. He had never been able to hide anything from his brown-haired lover before.

“The dark lord happened to me, Pansy. I..I displeased him.”

“How, Draco? What did he do to you?”

“He…he wanted me to recruit you, Pansy. To..to…to be a death eater. He told me that if you didn’t join, I had to kill you. I said no.”

Pansy sucked in a breath in shock. Her eyes went wide and she looked at Draco in horror. “You said no to the dark lord? And he let you live?”

“He wasn’t going to, Pansy. He was going to kill me. My father got him to stop, but only after he tortured me.” Draco’s eyes lowered. He was ashamed of what had happened. He had begged his father to kill him.

“Pansy, the dark lord ordered my father to kill Dumbledore. It’s suicide. My father knows that. That’s why we’re running. I begged my parents to come here first, so that we could collect you.

“Oh, Draco! I love you.” Pansy got a far-away looked in her eyes for a moment. “Draco? You know the only place to go, right? He’s the only one who can protect us.”

“I know. I hate to say it, but yea, he’s the only person who can keep us alive.”

“He’s not going to do what the dark lord did to you, Draco. Harry’s not like that. He might kill you though, just because of everything that Slytherins did to him up through fifth year.”

Draco thought about that for a moment. “At least he would give me a fair chance. But no, that’s not who he is. There’s no way that he’ll call me out, Pansy. Hermione and Ginny won’t let him.”

“What do you mean, Hermione and Ginny won’t let him.?”

“Don’t you know?” Pansy shook her head.

“Harry married both of them and has three daughters by each of them.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Draco actually grinned. “No. not on this. Turns out old scar-head was cursed by the dark lord during august of last year and had to marry the two women he loved the most within 24 hours AND get them both pregnant.”

“Oh Merlin, Draco” Pansy was holding her sides, laughing.

Draco smiled at the young woman he had fallen in love with. It was good to see her smiling and laughing, he thought. She certainly had had reason to cry enough recently.

Looking away and out the third-floor window, Draco saw his parents standing under a live oak. He turned to her “We’ve got to get out of here, Pansy. My father and mother are waiting outside and so whatever you’ve got, we have to collect it now and leave. They’re taking a chance, just coming here, and if we don’t leave, we’re going to in a lot more danger than we can handle.”

“I know. Help me finish packing my brother and sisters’ clothes and then we’ll go downstairs and finish there. We can be out of here in less than ten minutes.”

“We don’t have that much time, Pansy. We’ve got to go – five minutes, tops, ok?”

“Only if you can take over up here and let me take care of everything downstairs.” Draco smiled at her, weakly. “ok. I’ll do it. Do you want me to pack all of their stuff.”

She nodded. “Thanks, Draco. I love you.”

Draco had never gotten used to hearing her say that, but it never failed to make him feel better. “I know, Pansy. That’s why I’m here.”

She threw herself into his arms and clung to him. His hands automatically wrapped around her and the two of them stood there, holding each other, lost in their love for each other.

One of his hands eventually wandered down her back and cupped her bottom. She groaned into his ear and ground herself against him. “It’s been too long, Draco. I need you.”

He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes “You can have me, Pansy, but not until we’re safe”

“Let’s go, then.”

They pulled apart, reluctantly, and moved in their chosen directions. Draco walked into Pansy’s brother’s room and saw that it was a typical boy’s room – at least the typical bedroom of a son of wizarding parents. There was a toy flying broom, stuffed animals that were ambulatory, a magicked ceiling, and child-sized Hogwarts robes.

Draco had become very proficient in magicking a room clean, and it was a short hop from doing that to packing. Draco closed his eyes and conjured a school trunk that would hold most everything in the room. If nothing else, Draco was fastidiously clean and orderly in his personal habits, so he was able to make short work of packing up the room. Satisfied that the trunk could hold no more, nor needed to, Draco shrank the trunk to the size of a deck of cards and slipped it into his pocket. One down, one to go.

Pansy’s sisters’ room took a few more minutes, because her things required a bit more care and finesse. Once all the dresses had been properly folded and stacked in neat piles on the bed and all of the other items necessary for a young girls’ happiness had been carefully accounted for and packed away, it was easy to magic everything into the trunk. Draco had paid particular care to things like Danella’s diary and her wizarding wireless radio as well as her jewelry (what there was of it), and her poster of Gilderoy Lockhart. Draco almost choked with disgust at that, for he thought Lockhart was a total wanker, but he packed it anyway, because Pansy has asked him to do so.

It took even less time to shrink Danella’s trunk and slip it into his pocket, next to Graham’s. Draco focused his thoughts on Pansy and disapparated.

There was a quiet ‘Pop’ as Draco suddenly appeared next to Pansy in the home’s dinning room. Since the Parkinsons were a very old pure-blood family, they had heirlooms and mementos of all sorts, some of which were more than 800 years old. In particular, there was one silver chalice that resided in a magically-locked cabinet. Etched in the center of the chalice was a prominent, ornate H that, despite the age of the relic, remained lustrous and untarnished.

It might not have struck others as odd, but Pansy had always thought it queer that the H on the chalice was legible because it was silvery and bright, in comparison the dull green-black of the rest of the cup.

She made sure to shrink and then pack the entire cabinet into the oversized traveling trunk that she had found in the house basement.

There were other things that she packed – the family’s silver service; the china; and some of the art that had hung on the walls. What was being left behind would be preserved by spells and wards as best as she was able. She didn’t really care though, what happened to the house. She suspected that she might not ever come back. It was an idea that struck her as not being particularly terrible. She had grown up in the house and even though she had loved her growing up years (her mother had always called them her ‘formative years’, whatever that meant), the house had lost it’s vitality because her parents were dead and gone.

Draco saw her looking at bare walls and realized that she was saying goodbye to the place. It bothered him a little bit – for her sake – but he had just said goodbye to his own home, so he was not as sympathetic as he could have been for her. However, the fact that he realized that was the case made him re-think how he viewed what she was going through and moved him to put his arm around her. Ready?” he said quietly?

“Yea, I think so. Let me collect Graham and Danella and meet me in the front hall.”

Draco looked at her, nodded, and moved to the homes’ front hall. In a moment, Danella and Graham were herded towards Draco, who stood waiting for them. Pansy stooped to sweep Graham up in her arms, to carry him out the door while Draco and Danella followed behind. Once they got to the sidewalk, Pansy turned, took out her wand, and with her brother in her left arm, did a complex series of wand movements. In the blink of an eye, the house disappeared and they were left looking at a vacant lot.

“Let’s go, Draco, before I start crying. I need to get away from here.”

He nodded and the four of them crossed the street to where Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were waiting.

Once Pansy came within a reasonable distance of Draco’s parents, she put Graham down and executed the formal bow that tradition required of her. The Parkinsons owed blood loyalties to the House Malfoy and even if no life had been exchanged to satisfy that debt in over two hundred years, wizarding tradition demanded that as the presumptive Head of House of House Parkinson, that she acknowledges the Malfoys with dignity.

“Clan Leader Malfoy, Mistress Malfoy, I am Pansy Olivia Parkinson, presumptive head of House Parkinson. Thank you for rescuing me and bringing Draco to my side.”

Pansy rose from her bow and took Draco’s hand in hers, without shame. Lucius finally spoke “You have observed the old forms, Clan Mistress Parkinson. Very well, I might add. Your parents taught you well. I am glad to see that you will be joining the family.”

Her eyes were bright and she squeezed Draco’s hand a little tighter, as she looked at the older Malfoy. “Sir, I hope so. Draco has become my everything and he’s all I want in life.”

That caused Narcissa Black-Malfoy to raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Do you feel the call of your bond, Pansy? Is it that strong between you already?”

The young, black-haired woman – a girl not even of age yet in muggle society – looked at he soon-to-be mother-in-law and smiled a girlish smile. Her reply was quieter and more subdued though. “Clan Mistress, I do feel it. It pulses within me and I know that I can’t resist it. Draco feels it too and we know we must be together. Already, we know each others’ thoughts at times and can sense when each of us is feeing particularly strong about the other.”

“Let’s go then, and we will celebrate your joining the family, when we are safe.”

Lucius had already formed a port key with the information that he had received from Harry’s Patronus.

The six of them placed their hands on the tree branch port key and on the count of three, they all disappeared.
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 TRIANGLE_DISEASE__Part_Two__Chapter_TEN.doc

[potterheadsanonymous]

So far, wonderful! Please tell me you are going to finish the story. While I have to say that the "intimate moments" aren't really scenes I ever thought I would hear/read/see in this story, all in all this is wonderful!

www.potterheadsanonymous.com