I wake short hours later to hard knocks on Draco's bedroom door.

"Draco, why aren't you coming for breakfast? I've called you so many – why is your door locked?"

Draco stirs beside me. "Coming, Mother," he says, so drowsily that I'm surprised when she retreats. He rolls over to face me, a small smirk lighting up his pale face. "Good morning."

"You need to change," I say worriedly. "When they see that you're still in last night's clothing-"

"Are you really worried for my security-" he interrupts, his smirk growing, "Or is this just an excuse to see me change?"

I blush. "I've missed this."

His eyes light up and he kisses my forehead. "Me too. I was thinking that we could go somewhere today. You know, because no one can know you're here. Maybe to the beach?" His eyes grow hopeful. "I know a deserted spot, we'd never be seen-"

"I can't." His smile fades. "I'm sorry," I say, "but I came here to save Luna, not for romantic walks on the beach."

"Fine," he says shortly, rolling out of bed. "How do you plan to commence?"

"Well I can't without your help," I reply, sitting up. "You know that. When can we go see her?"

He shrugs, turning his back to me and slipping off his shirt to put on a clean one. Muscles ripple across his bare back. Any existing tan has faded since I last saw him like this; his skin is paler than ever. I want to be there to see that tan build again, and fade, through summer and winter in the years to come.

I touch my hand to his back. "I'm sorry," I say. "A walk sounds lovely, really. But the more I put off helping Luna, the more dangerous it gets."

He looks at me for a long time, then groans. "Fine. She'll be in the cellar, like I said yesterday. It's where they've put prisoners before and I've often heard them speak about it. I haven't been there in a long time. She's a teenage girl, but I won't be surprised if they threw her in there too." He shrugs on a shirt and I shyly begin to button it up for him. "We can't go now," he continues, softer, "but we'll try find some time during the morning. There's a meeting at four that I'm not a part of. Everyone will be gone except us, so if we can't go in the morning, we'll definitely go then. I'll bring you back something from breakfast."

Only minutes after Draco has left, his door creaks open. I am about to leap off the bed and hide under it when I spot his tousled white-blonde hair, and a wave of relief washes over me.

Draco nudges the door shut behind him, smirking when he sees my crouched stance. But I am too busy staring at the vast amount of food in his arms to care. I gape as he deposits the bundle onto his bed – dozens of croissants, crumpets, and fruit of every kind rolling over his sheets. "How much do you think I eat?"

"I wanted to be prepared," says Draco casually, picking up an apple from where it has fallen onto the ground. "But it doesn't matter anymore. My mother caught me on my way back up. She knows you're here, and they want to see you."

My jaw drops. "Who is 'they'?"

"Come on." He offers me his hand, leading me out into the hallway and down the staircase. This is not going as expected. "I won't let them hurt you."

But Draco is clearly disgruntled, and his mood only worsens when we step into his kitchen.

The room is vast and lavish – every surface lined with mirrored glass or gleaming white marble, every counter scrubbed to glossy perfection. But what catches my attention are the people standing around it – a head of long, white-blond hair undoubtedly belongs to Draco's father, who glowers at me. Beside him stands his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, who I have seen before but today she looks far more... Nervous? Fearful? And standing closest to me, sunken eyes blinking sweetly through huge, tangled black hair is the famous face of Bellatrix Lestrange. She smiles.

I clasp my hands together to stop them shaking. Draco clears his throat. "This is Iso-"

"Pansy," I say loudly, shooting an anxious look at him. "I'm Pansy Parkinson."

Draco rolls his eyes. "They know who you are. Wormtail snitched." He lowers his voice. "You might have told me you tried to beat him up."

The beady eyed man scowls at me from a corner, a bandage on his head. I might laugh, were I not under the terrifying gaze of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Richard Young's daughter," she says simply. "Great job, Draco. Keep your enemies close. I like it."

Lucius raps his knuckles against the pristine counter, unamused. His dagger eyed glare hasn't wavered since I stepped foot in here, which feels like an awfully long time ago. "Will you leave, Miss Young? I'd like to have a word with my son."

I look up at Draco for approval, and he nods. Before I can pull away, he leans imperceptibly closer to me, slips something in my hand and whispers; "Go now. Take a left and down the stairs."

Heart beating in exhilaration, I leave the room. Once I am out of sight, I sneak to the left, pushing the unnerving prospect of being caught by Bellatrix out of my mind. I have to squint before I see the staircase, hidden in the shadows of the corridor. The steps are steep and narrow, but I am down them before I can worry about falling, opening my hand and despite myself, grinning down at the key Draco has managed to rob for me.

The door to the cellar is thick and heavy, and I cringe at the loud noise as I push it open. I faintly hear Draco's raised voice drifting from the kitchen – no doubt trying to drown out any sound I make.

"Luna?" I whisper, squinting in a feeble attempt to adjust my eyes to the darkness. I wish I hadn't forgotten my wand. The cellar is damp, stuffy and smells like rot. At least it's big, I tell myself, but I can't deny – this is much worse than I'd imagined.

"Isobel? Is that you?"

As I move towards her voice, Luna's face becomes visible from a shadow in a dark corner, huddled next to an old looking man, a meagre jug of water between them. Her clothing is torn and dirty; her hair hangs in her face, unwashed. "Hello. You haven't been caught too, have you?"

"No," I whisper. A lump is growing in my throat. This is inhumane. "Do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine," she says, as if she isn't locked in a basement. "Do you have anything to eat?"

I pat my pockets, my heart sinking. "I'm so sorry," I say, biting back tears. "Draco had – loads – you wouldn't believe... I'm coming back later. I'll bring you food then, okay?"

Luna smiles. "Don't worry about me." She nudges the old man beside her. "But Mr. Ollivander's stomach has been grumbling all day long."

"Mr. Ollivander," I repeat, the name taking a moment to sink in. The wandmaker. "Nice to... to see you." Not really. Not here. But what else do I say? I'm sorry you're locked up and I'm perfectly fine?

Ollivander leans his head against the wall, his eyes closed. He's clearly weak, and I wonder exactly how long he's been here. "I'd really love a croissant," he mumbles.

"I'll bring you more croissants than you could ever imagine," I say quickly. I crouch in front of them. "Luna, I actually came here to – to try and break you out..." Even as I say the words, reality settles slowly into my mind, mocking and scornful. This is far worse than I thought it would be, and it seems impossible that I alone could ever get Luna – and Ollivander – out safely.

"That might be difficult," says Luna, as if reading my mind. "It's a lovely thought, but I'm not sure it would work. These people really are awful." She smiles again. "But I wouldn't mind a croissant, if you're offering."

"But what am I supposed to do?" I say, my voice shaking. "I can't just leave you here. Are either of you hurt? Maybe I can bring bandages."

"Don't worry," says Luna kindly. "We're not hurt, just hungry."

Before I can reply, Draco appears beside me. His eyes slide briefly to Luna and Ollivander, but he looks away almost at once, shame flashing in his eyes. "We have to go," he says to me, his voice gruff. "Tell my parents you got lost – say you were admiring the artwork or something."

I grasp Luna's hand. "Tell me how we can help you," I say. "Draco has food, water – and we'll be back in a few hours. We'll be back at four, right Draco?"

But he is already in the doorway, his back to us. "We have to go, Isobel."

"Isobel," repeats Luna softly. "We'll be alright."

Tears in my eyes, I stand and follow Draco out of the heavy door, leaving Luna and Ollivander alone in the dark.