Snape was gone in an instant, and the pale, shivering boy was left standing alone between the gateposts.
He had to move quickly; any second the Death Eaters would realise that he was missing and would return to collect him. He couldn’t risk staying still for another moment, he had to leave now before he had any second thoughts about turning his back.
But what would they think? That he had just got lost? No, He was never that stupid. Ignorant, arrogant…but never stupid.
He heard a voice behind him. There were figures running towards the gates, blurry through the rain. As they drew nearer, Draco could make out the scarred and pitted face of Alastor Moody, limping crookedly, one eye spinning. He was holding a wand out in front of him.
"Bloody fog…who’s that..?" Moody’s metal leg splashed into a pool of filthy rain water, he skidded slightly, and dug his other foot deeper into the mud to steady himself.
Draco shivered. Whatever happens…even if I stay, he’d never believe me. I’ve got no choice. He shifted his weight onto his left foot.
“You, boy!” came the roar of Moody’s voice. “Stay where you are! I mean it!”
Something red shot over Draco’s shoulder and he rolled to the ground. I need a distraction! he thought desperately. He’s got his eye on me, but, if I could just… Fumbling in the pocket of his robes, he pulled out his wand and shifted his hand so that the stick of wood pointed at his pursuer, but remained close enough to the ground to be concealed.
“Don’t you dare!”
Too late. He fired a spell behind the clanking figure, one that barely had any light to it at all, and muttered “recito* Moody”. It hit the blurry outline of a tall tree, where it vanished into the bark.
Seconds later, a gruff voice sounded directly behind the tree - “Moody?”.
The Auror’s round, blue eye swivelled to glare behind him. “Who’s there?!”
No answer.
“Show yourself!” the old man demanded.
Draco shifted slightly, the ex-Auror’s concentration seemed to be half focused on Malfoy, half on the voice that had emanated from behind the tree. He just needed another something to distract…
“Clever trick, sonny.” Moody grumbled, and heaved his metal leg forward, advancing further up the path. “But not clever enough -”
A slice of ice white lightening shot through the drizzling sky, blinding everyone on the Hogwarts grounds. For a few seconds the boy by the gates and the one clunking ever closer were thrown into a frustrating sightlessness.
The light disappeared and the sky seemed even darker now. The rain continued to smudge the outlines of every piece of dark foliage surrounding the creaking gates. Alastor Moody shook droplets of water from his grizzled hair, blinking his tiny black eye, while the other rolled round in exasperation.
The boy had vanished.
~ * * * ~
A sullen street lamp flickered overhead in the back-alley behind a closed junk shop. Rain pelted out of the chalk-board blackness of the sky, littering the street with pools of liquid, reflecting the backdrop of urban decay. A rusty car with a broken tail pipe rattled past the shaking figure crouching in the doorway of the shop, the windows behind him papered with fading posters, the stone steps barely visible under a decade’s worth of chewing gum wads and the walls coated with graffiti.
Draco pushed his fingers through his hair, as though clawing at his own brain for an idea. He didn’t have a clue where he was - it was certainly nowhere inhabited by wizards. He looked down at his soaking wet robes, clinging uncomfortably to his skin, the air freezing. Examining the bearded man hunched on the opposite street corner, three mangy scarves wrapped round his neck, Draco was almost certain that no other muggle wandering these grimy pavements would be wearing anything as smart and shining as what was draped around his trembling shoulders.
Without warning, his mind shot back to the events that had surpassed less than an hour ago. He screwed up his eyes, concentrating on the splashes of the cars rumbling by, the drip of rain from the shop roof to his feet.
It wasn’t me…I didn’t do it. I could have saved him, saved myself…
They’d be looking for him, now, he knew it. He had to hide - somewhere they wouldn’t even think to look, let alone find him.
“Oi!”
The crude awakening came from a nearby car; Draco lifted his head to see three silhouettes visible through the steamy glass, one was leaning out of the window, gesticulating towards him.
“Oi, blondie!” he called again, a rough cockney jeer. “Yeah, you.”
In spite of his anxiety, Draco’s eyes narrowed. How dare he…
“You need a lift somewhere?” Came the voice in a mock-helpful tone. “’Cause, er… I’m sure we can make some room.”
There was a smattering of laughter from the other occupants of the car. The frown on Draco’s forehead deepened, his eyes cold. Then a sudden recklessness gripped him - he didn’t care anymore, didn’t care who these people were or where they would take him. Anywhere would be better than sitting around waiting to be found.
He pushed himself up from the step outside the shop, feeling his legs shaking from the immensity of his emotional weight. Despite the heat of anxiety bubbling within him, his skin felt icy from the rain, and the steely grey of his eyes was growing paler. He shifted numb fingers casually to his pocket, the tension in his chest relaxing only slightly at the knowledge that his wand was still there.
Draco stopped at the car door, suddenly feeling so out of place it almost embarrassed him. He looked down at his wizard’s robes, at his black, patent leather shoes. The unshaven, square-jawed face leaning out of the car had noticed them too.
“Going to a ball, princess?” He sniggered, and clicked the rusty door of the car half open. “Get in.”
*Recito comes from the Latin “to recite/read aloud” - meaning that the spell is designed to give inanimate objects a voice speaking whatever one says after the initial order.