It was still nighttime when Draco and Parvati reached out for the Portkey that would take them to within five miles of Voldemort’s stronghold, where Ron had established the outpost. Draco held a letter from Goyle that had come in by owl a couple of nights before. Goyle was going to meet him at a rendezvous, and take him to Voldemort himself, should he manage to “escape” Hogwarts. To ensure that he would “escape” Ron had given up the entrance to the Shrieking Shack.
Dumbledore would fill it in, once it was found out that Draco had escaped that way. If anyone tried to enter that particular tunnel before the carefully planned ‘finding’ of the escape route by the Ministry, who would be called in to investigate, they would have the Whomping Willow to deal with.
Having supposedly used her as a victim of the polyjuice potion, Draco had escaped in Parvati's guise to the Shrieking Shack, where he was last seen going towards the Forbidden Forest. Parvati had played her part well, making sure two people had slight glimpses of her before she got to the forest. When she had reached the forest, she had transformed into a blackbird, which headed straight for the castle and Dumbledore’s office, where Draco was waiting in hiding.
The story would be put about that Parvati had been badly hurt, and was in the Infirmary where Padma would be seen from time to time visiting her sister. Madam Pomfrey would keep out all other callers. In the event that it would be absolutely necessary for Parvati to be seen, Padma could be heavily bandaged, and would look like Parvati.
Draco would be unaccompanied apart from his raven, and nobody would suspect the raven that traveled with him. The plan was almost foolproof “ at least nobody had so far found any flaws, and it was the one they were using. Draco, who had suspected Dumbledore of giving Ron a role in which he was the least likely to mess up, started to rethink. Maybe Ron was good at something after all.
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Now, ignoring Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione and Harry, who were all present, Parvati leaned up and gave Draco a hard kiss on the mouth, before dwindling to a raven, and flapping up to sit on his shoulder. Draco gave a deep breath, looked at Dumbledore, and took hold of the key.
He stepped out into a clearing in a forest beside a dilapidated wooden hut, which he knew would turn into a nice sized house when they entered. He then looked again at his instructions, and began to walk the five miles to a deeper, darker part of the forest that was eerily silent. He stood waiting, and looking around, his hand on his wand in case of trouble. Parvati moved her feet on his shoulder, and he absently stroked her breast with one hand, ruffling the feathers. Funny “ they were hardly ever left on their own for two seconds, and now that they were, and he could get his hands on her breasts, she was a raven, and it didn’t really do anything for him. He grinned to himself in the darkness, glad she couldn’t see what he was thinking.
It was about fifteen minutes before Goyle arrived. Draco was conscious of Parvati, yet not wanting to speak to her in case they were being watched. Parvati obviously felt the same, as she remained quiet. After a while however, she gave a caw, and Draco looked around to see Goyle shouldering his way through the forest. He strode over to meet him. “Am I glad to see you!” Goyle’s rather dim face lit up with a smile. “We didn’t think you would be able to get away! I am supposed to check to see what you have brought with you.”
Draco raised his eyebrows. “Do you see anything with me apart from my raven?” Goyle looked a bit sulky.
“No, I don’t,”
“Well then, shall we depart?” Draco asked impatiently.
Goyle mumbled something. “Well, speak up man!” cried Draco. “What is it?”
“I am supposed to search you,” returned Goyle sullenly.
Draco contained himself. He had to get Goyle back to being his sidekick. Rolling his eyes upwards, he held up his arms, and turned around slowly. “Fine. Do you want my wand as well?” The sarcasm was heavy, and Goyle flinched.
“No, no need. How come you have a raven?”
Draco rolled his eyes again, apparently at Goyle’s stupidity, and said, “Well, you can’t have forgotten already! I always wanted a raven. They go better with black than an owl does. Better for the image,” and then, because he couldn’t resist, “Pulls the birds.” Parvati’s claws dug into him extra hard at this, but she refrained from squawking.
Goyle frowned a little in concentration, and then smiled. “Sure, I remember you wanted a black bird.”
‘Idiot,’ thought Draco, ‘he would remember anything I told him to. I am so glad he hasn’t changed!’ He followed Goyle through the forest. The intense cold told him that there were Dementors around. He was glad to have studied Occlumency, which he used now to shut off his mind. He had teased Potter about the Dementors, but when he had first seen the Dementor on the train, he had been so scared he almost fainted himself. Memories of Lilah being forced out of the house had dominated his mind, and memories of beatings, and seeing others beaten “ Dobby the house-elf for one. As he had grown older, he had not been so intimidated, and had taken it as a matter of course, but as a small child he was horror-stricken. And of course the Dementors fed on that. Luckily Crabbe and Goyle had believed him quite happily when he told them on the train that he was kidding around for a laugh, and hadn’t been scared at all.
“So how is it working for the Dark Lord?” he asked Goyle, curiously. Goyle shrugged, but a look of fear came over his face.
“The Dark Lord finds a lot for us to do,” he answered. “And there is no television, and only three meals a day.” Draco waited, but there was no more to come. ‘Well,” he thought to himself “I see Goyle is as chatty as ever.’ He took a huge slab of chocolate out of his pocket, and handed it over silently. Goyle engulfed it joyfully in one bite, throwing the wrappers into the trees without even a thought to banishing them.
He led Draco down an almost black path, by the light of his wand. Icy water dripped from the bare trees, and the tree trunks looked black and slimy in the wavering light. Draco wrapped his robes around him more firmly and strode after Goyle. After a while, he noticed that other paths were connecting to this one, although they were shadowy, and that the path along which they were walking was becoming wider. So far he thought he could find his way back. He was keeping a sharp look out for landmarks, just in case it became necessary.
Parvati balanced on his shoulder, very subdued. He had not heard a peep out of her. Now dim lanterns hung from the trees, having a very chilling effect. Draco could make out a building in the darkness now, as it was getting lighter all the time, and soon they were at the barred door. It was of large, thick wooden planks, dark with age, and bound with thick iron. The red shield with the snakes that Padma had seen was emblazoned across the large lock. There were so many wards around it that the place positively vibrated. Goyle stood in a spot in front of the door, pulling Draco to stand with him. There was a click, and the square was flooded with very bright light. Draco and Parvati, who were not expecting it, squinted into the light, temporarily blinded, and then the gate swung open.
Inside was a good deal more modern. Lights ran along the whole length of the corridor, and in the first room, men in black robes sat around a long table, eating what seemed to be some kind of stew. It became apparent to him that this was some sort of guardhouse. Shabby looking house elves ran around with plates and were kicked or ignored as needed. Woebegone owls hunched dismally in a common area in the draught caused by the open door. He only caught a glimpse however, as Goyle marched past. Goyle was looking less worried now, and more important. They strode through double doors into a massive hall, which was nothing like Draco could have imagined as having anything to do with Voldemort. It looked a little like a conferencing center. There was a bright scarlet carpet on the floor, and the walls, which were paneled half way up, were a garish yellow wood and bright white. The ceiling and door trims were glaring white. There were many fluorescent lights and the heating was set very high. The carpet had a very thick pile, and the wood a very matched shiny varnish, but the general effect was cheap and shoddy and brash. Black figures stood uncomfortably here and there in the hall in groups, murmuring to each other quietly, but they turned at Goyle’s entrance. At the end of the hall was a raised dais, and on that was a chair with a figure that made the hair on Draco’s neck stand on end. As he noticed, Parvati took off in flight. Draco had one awful moment where he thought she had lost her nerve, and felt wildly that he might, and then he saw that she was flying to the side of the room, where there was a cluster of stands, some empty, and others with owls sitting on them. This was obviously where the messengers sat. He would have looked odd taking her up with him. He was terrified “ so terrified he thought for another moment that he may faint or throw up. However it would be just as dangerous now to go back as to go forward. He stiffened his spine, calmed his breathing, and followed Goyle, who had slowed down a little, and was cringing and shuffling his feet.
Voldemort watched Draco’s entrance with narrowed eyes. He sensed a slight feeling of uncertainty, but that was common among the Death Eaters. They were used to the dark, and so Voldemort amused himself by lighting the place with very bright light. None of them felt that they could move without him seeing them. To his own slit-like hooded eyes, it was no hardship, but he noticed a few people, as Draco Malfoy was now, squinting against the glare reflected from the highly varnished walls and white ceiling. The boy walked down to him. Voldemort was pleased. He knew Lucius of old, and knew that he had at last served him well enough to go to Azkaban, although his earlier conduct, pretending that he had been under the Imperious Curse left a lot to be desired. However, he had heard of Draco’s attempts to break out of Hogwarts under Dumbledore’s nose, and that fact that he had managed to do it was in his advantage. Voldemort had checked the story very thoroughly, and tried the entrance to Hogwarts almost immediately, only to find that the Ministry had been there before him. Perhaps the young Malfoy would have other ideas. Voldemort was ready to favour him. He needed more wizards that had some intelligence. He thought of Snape, and ground his teeth. It had been humiliating to find that someone in his own employ had dared betray him, and been exposed in front of his own circle of most trusted Death Eaters. He hoped he was making enough of an example of him. Killing him outright would have been a good lesson: but too short. Some people had brief memories. Besides, it was quite scientific trying to keep the man at the delicate balance where he would still retain enough feeling and emotion to beg, and plead (which was really disconcerting to some of his followers) and yet inflict as much pain and misery as possible. He had an unpleasant smile on his lips as Goyle conducted Draco to his presence.
Goyle bent lower and lower as he approached, and flinched as Voldemort held up a long fingered, deathly white hand, stopping immediately. Draco walked on, coming to stop just before Voldemort, and then, remembering his father’s training, sank into a low bow, with head bent, until Voldemort put his wand under his chin, and raised him. Draco had to call on all his Occlumency training to repress a shudder at the appearance of the man in front of him. Voldemort looked at his face, not surprised when Draco dropped his eyes. He was used to people not being able to look him in the face. With his wand, he moved Draco’s head, so that he could view him from every angle, and then in an insulting fashion “ as though Draco’s mind were his own - probed inside his head. Draco used all his training, and gave all his safe memories and his implanted memories of escape for viewing. Obedient, well trained, terrified Draco. Luckily Voldemort did not try pressing him too far, and he was very used to his followers feeling terrified. Draco had passed the first stage. He felt himself trembling as Voldemort released him.
Voldemort was pleased with what he saw. The boy was tall, handsome, and obviously intelligent. He had been bored with Lucius and Bellatrix gone. Peter was too timid and fawning to amuse him much, and the new recruits “ the younger Crabbe and Goyle included - were not very worthy of his attentions. The Lestranges and Lucius formed the mainstay of his existence. They were devoted to him, and were therefore more amusing to torment. Voldemort was bored. Maybe he was the Darkest wizard around, but he was also the cleverest. He had been so many years in the forest, slithering around in the bodies of snakes. Now sometimes he thought that it had been as interesting as life was now. None of his satellites had a brain cell between them. Torture was all very well, but it got exhausting and repetitive after a while. In fact, maybe it was time to finish Snape off. Meanwhile, confident in his estimate of Draco, he made a mistake. He glanced at Goyle. “Bring me a chair,” he commanded. He turned to Draco “I want to hear all the news about Dumbledore and Harry Potter.” He waved a hand, “Let the house elves bring in some tea for the boy. I will take a little of my own favorite cocktail.” He let a hand drape down onto Nagini’s head, enjoying the tiny start Draco gave as he noticed the snake for the first time. He liked to invoke fear.
“Do sit down,” he invited, in a honeyed voice. “I want to hear all about my old school.” He was pleased to note that Draco was disconcerted.
A cringing house elf rushed forward with a padded chair, and another set up a table and china. Voldemort, watching like a hawk without seeming to, was pleased to see the boy didn’t even notice the house elves. He sat down and poured the tea, looking sideways at the tall red frothing glass that was handed to his mentor. The tray held little afternoon biscuits. Draco had certainly not been expecting this. However, the tea was welcome and hot, and he wasn’t about to let his guard down. It would be unlikely Voldemort would fill him full of Veritaserum, and he had been trained on how to combat the effects as much as possible, and couldn’t very well refuse to drink. He filled Voldemort in on Hogwarts, leaving out certain details, and embroidering others, but only insofar as his training had gone. Dumbledore had been specific as to what he was to say. Most of his description of the Hogwarts defenses was accurate. Dumbledore had known that Voldemort would know. However, the students wouldn’t have known, so it put Draco in a good light “ at least it would seem that he had kept his head. He gave Voldemort the passwords to all the dormitories, but was afraid they would all have been changed since his escape. He did know, however, that Dumbledore always used a sweet or favourite treat as the password to his own tower.
The attention he was given would have seemed welcoming to Draco, had he been what he seemed, but he was on his guard, so he did notice the sidelong look Voldemort gave him from time to time. He described the state of affairs at his own house, not saying too much about his mother and the way in which she was behaving.
After they had been talking for a while, Voldemort gave a rather sinister smile. “Well, Mr. Malfoy. I see you are going to be an asset to our...community, shall I say. I also have a treat prepared for you this evening. We have arranged a break out from Azkaban, which I believe will be successful. You should be reunited with your father this evening. Also, I have arranged for your mother to be joining us. We will have the whole family here.” He looked at Draco with hooded eyes, but did not note any change, besides perhaps a slight paleness.
Draco, who had been waiting for the trap, still found it hard. He forced himself to act normally, and inclined his head. “You are very kind.” Damn, Voldemort had noticed something. He took another sip of tea to give him time to think, and said lightly. “I find it hard to believe you persuaded my mother. She usually prefers her men to fight while she stays behind to mop up the blood.”
“I believe your mother to be a traitor,” Voldemort said blandly, watching Draco like a hawk. Draco started, saw Voldemort watching him and then shrugged in an astonished fashion. “I don’t believe so. I did live at home over the summer, and I certainly saw no signs of it.” He sneered slightly. “I don’t think she would have the guts to be a traitor! Certainly she shows no interest in politics so far as I can see beyond writing out lists of eligible pureblood girls my age.” For a moment he was worried that he had gone too far, but Voldemort sat back, his eyes unreadable. Draco decided to risk one more thing that his Slytherin self suggested. Surely Voldemort would appreciate ambition. “I would ask my Lord to please remember that as I am younger and stronger than my father, and have my training fresh in my memory. I can serve you as well as him,” he suggested delicately. Voldemort was facing one of his own kind, a Slytherin almost as devious and sly as himself, and Draco was well trained and smooth. He came across as a little jealous that his father would be rejoining them “ slightly childish, a little petulant and eager to please his new lord and master.
Voldemort was not displeased. The lad seemed to have some competitive issues with his father. Any kind of friction between members he found mildly amusing. It would be amusing to pit father and son against each other. But for now he was satisfied. He waved a hand. “Now I have business to attend to. Goyle here will show you to your room. Leave your wand with me. I will need to check it.” Draco was very disconcerted by this information, but could not very well refuse. After all, all he had practiced recently were curses and hexes. Hopefully Voldemort would think that he had used them trying to escape. He bowed, and handed over his wand. Without it, he felt naked. Draco noticed a group of weary looking Death Eaters enter the hall. Their robes were battle stained. He would have like to have stayed, and did not disguise his curiosity. It would be natural, after all. However, as an obedient satellite, he got up and bowed and followed Goyle, who had been waiting the whole time just beyond earshot. He motioned towards Parvati, who flapped to his shoulder.
Draco and Parvati were glad to see that the rest of the building was more as they had imagined, with twisting corridors, and dimly lit passages. It was a relief to the eyes. Goyle showed Draco to a small room, which was clean, but rather barren, with no pictures, a small jug of water and a glass on top of a cooling device, a few mugs, and coffee beans in jars on the bedside table. Parvati immediately made for the jug and drank thirstily. Draco said goodbye to Goyle and, obedient to his training, checked the place for Muggle bugs in the way Hermione had showed him. There were none, but he would have been very surprised if there had been “ Voldemort would not need Muggle tricks. Then he cast a silencing spell (“Muffliato”)on the bed and slipping off his shoes, lay down. If he had silenced the room, people may have been suspicious, but if they found a spell on his bed, hopefully they would just think he was just trying to get a good night’s sleep. As he flopped down, Parvati landed on his stomach.
“Bad news,” he told her grimly. “My parents are going to be here, and Voldemort does not like my mother. He spoke of a family reunion. I am willing to bet Lilah is here too, and that he has her prisoner. I am dreading this evening. I don’t know how I am going to get through it.” Parvati lay beside him quietly, snuggled into his shoulder. It was worse than either of them could have imagined. Dumbledore had not foreseen this. She could feel from the way he lay that Draco wasn’t taking this as easily as it sounded. Every muscle was tense. She snuggled her face into his neck until he slept, willing himself into sleep so that he would be ready for whatever horrors awaited him that evening. Then she transformed into a mouse this time, and slipped out into the corridor. She had to find Snape.