i s o b e l

Isobel sank to the ground. She pressed her palms to her face and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

He was gone. After every close encounter, every worry and qualm that something might happen, that one of them would be made to leave. . . He had gone. It had actually happened.

Her chest felt tight and her breathing was shallow. She looked up and around her, at the plastic stars. The charm she had cast to enhance their glow had been removed, and now they seemed dull, their colour muted. The empty space seemed a far cry from the magical, luminous green room that it had been days before.

She forced herself to stand, and left the room on shaky legs. She left the stars, too. She could not bear to take them down.

The living room was entirely empty. Not a single possession remained, not even a piece of rubbish stray in a corner. She opened the cupboards of the kitchen nook one by one, but all were empty.

His windows were still wide open. That, at least, was the one sign that he had once lived here. That it hadn't all been a dream.

As she walked closer to the window, she noticed a tiny, white, dried flower on the sill. She picked it up and held it in her trembling palm, and wondered where it had come from. Draco didn't seem the type to keep flowers for their aesthetics.

"Hello?"

Isobel turned. In her shock at seeing Draco's empty apartment, she had forgotten to close his door. In the doorway, now, stood Emily, peering nervously into the apartment.

"Hi," said Isobel. She could manage no more.

Emily regarded the empty room with a bewildered expression. "Has Draco moved out?"

Isobel nodded. She tucked the flower into the pocket of her coat. "Just today, I think."

"That's strange," said Emily. "I've been home all day and didn't hear a thing."

"Did you hear any visitors, by any chance?" asked Isobel. "Did anyone come to see him?"

Emily shook her head. "I didn't hear anything today. Though now that you mention it, I did overhear an argument last night. . ." She frowned. "There were raised voices. There was a man. . ."

"Did you hear anything they said?"

"Not really, it was the middle of the night -" Emily tilted her head, looking concerned. "Were you unaware that he planned to move out, Daphne?"

"Oh," said Isobel. "My name is Isobel, actually. Sorry, I -" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"I thought your name was Daphne."

Isobel turned to face the window, barely registering Emily's confusion. If a part of her had expected something bad to happen over Christmas, she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. And not like this. She hadn't expected Draco to be stolen away, for his entire presence to disappear without a trace.

She heard Emily take hesitant steps into the apartment. "Do you know who the man might have been? The one who was shouting at him last night?"

Isobel's eyes flicked from the street corner to the shadowed alleyway. "That was his father."

"Oh," said Emily. "Do you know what the argument might have been about?"

Isobel didn't respond. After a moment, Emily said, "is everything alright?"

Isobel stuck her hands into the pockets of her coat and clenched them into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. "No," she mumbled. "I never told him to extract his memories."

There was a pause. "Pardon?"

"Sorry," said Isobel. She turned to face Emily. "I meant. . . I think I'm going to go and find him."

"I think that's a good idea."

Isobel's pulse quickened. She didn't know if it was a good idea, actually. She wasn't sure if Draco would be better off without her help; if going to find him would only make things worse. But going back home and waiting it out there, alone, seemed positively unbearable.

"Do you know where he might be?" asked Emily.

"I have an idea."

Emily touched her arm. "Will you let me know if you find him? And if everything turns out okay?"

Through the pocket of her coat, Isobel touched her wand at her waist. Draco would never return to this apartment, so Isobel probably wouldn't, either.

Isobel looked at Emily. She felt her bottom lip quiver, her eyebrows knit. "I'm really sorry," said, her voice trembling.

"For what?"

"It's for your own safety," said Isobel. "It's better if you don't know anything."

Emily's brow furrowed. "What's for my own safety?"

Isobel nudged her coat out of the way and closed her hand around the base of her wand. She gripped it tightly, but still her hand shook. Guilt swept over her in crashing waves as she took in Emily's utter confusion.

"I know how horrible it is," said Isobel, "to have a big blur in your mind, where memories should be. But you'll be okay. You'll be safer if you don't know him."

She closed her eyes before her tears could spill over. Then she waved an Obliviate spell at Emily, and with that removed every memory Emily had of ever seeing or speaking to Isobel or Draco.

Before Emily could regain her focus, Isobel spun, and Apparated.

Emily would find herself in the empty apartment of a neighbour she had never known.

-

When she opened her eyes again, the vast, dark walls of Malfoy Manor had materialized. A broad wooden door rose over her.

Isobel assumed that the Malfoys no longer had a doorman, but still was too afraid to go in through the front entrance. She stole around the sides of the house until she found a ground-level window. She peered through the window to see a large, lavish drawing room, dressed predominantly in shades of grey. Without pausing for thought, she waved an Alohamora at the window's lock, pushed it open and climbed through.

She moved on the balls of her feet, as quickly and noiselessly as she could manage. Through the drawing room and into a hallway, through the main entrance and up the long staircase. She didn't quite understand it, but she felt confident in the turns she took. Her feet carried her through the cement-walled hallways, past paintings and statues, and though she had no recollection of the space at all, her body knew where to go.

At the top of the stairs, without hesitation, she turned left.

The Manor was constructed from enormous, dark slabs of cement. The hallways were wide, high-ceilinged and seemingly unending. But she kept going, heart thudding with apprehension, and persevered down the long, twisting hallway until she reached the very last door.

She placed her fingers on the handle, told herself to trust the suffocating sense of déjà vu, and pushed it open.

Draco was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, with his back against the bed. As she opened the door, his eyes sprang to her. She started towards him. "Draco -"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Belly." He groaned, and threw his hands over his face. "Why the fuck are you here -"

"Excuse me?"

He leapt to his feet, hurried towards her and took her arm. "You need to go," he said, his voice low and urgent. "You need to get out, immediately -"

"I came to find you."

Isobel stretched out a hand to close the door, but he pulled her back. "The door only opens from the hallway, it's enchanted. And you can't Apparate from this room, so you need to get back outside."

"But," Isobel frowned. "Your apartment was empty. I thought. . ."

"My father found out that I know you're alive and forced me to come home -"

"But there wasn't even any furniture left," interrupted Isobel. "I thought something - something terrible had happened -"

"He must have moved out my things," said Draco. "But I'm fine." He took her shoulders in his hands, and turned her to face him. "Listen, Belly, I'm okay. You need to go somewhere safe, and stay there for a few weeks."

"But what if your dad takes your memories?"

"I've extracted my memories," said Draco. "Blaise is keeping them safe, and if my father uses Obliviate, I can just restore them."

"Why can't you come with me?"

"Because he'll come and find us." Draco's hands slid from her shoulders down her arms, to take her hands in his. "I'll be fine, really. I'll come and find you after Christmas, alright?"

She nodded. "Alright."

He grasped her hands in his, and leant to give her a short, gentle kiss. "Go on, then," he said quietly, against her lips.

Draco followed her into the hallway but remained at its end as she walked away. She nodded at him over her shoulder and walked back through the long, twisting hallway, past the portraits, her heart still thudding.

And as she finally turned the corner to the stairway, Lucius Malfoy appeared. He leant against a statue at the bottom of the stairs, his wand balanced idly between his fingers.

"Well, well," said Lucius. His voice was soft, but it echoed around the hallways; bounced off the cement. "I was wondering when you would join us, Miss Young."

Isobel took a step back. "Draco," she called, not taking her eyes off Lucius.

Lucius started up the stairs. "Noticed a missing note from your bedroom, Miss Young? You shouldn't leave things that you don't want found lying around like that."

"Draco," called Isobel again, more loudly this time. Her heart felt as though it was beating in her throat. She took another step back. "How did you find my house?"

Lucius climbed the stairs with calm, tantalizingly slow steps. "Your darling mother told me everything I needed to know," he said. "She was rather lonely in the hospital yesterday, you know. Not a single visitor but me."

Isobel held her wand in her fist, trembling at her side. "Did you hurt her?"

"Hurt is a strong word," said Lucius. "She did take some. . . Encouragement, let's say. But it appears she's content to reveal anything when her daughter's life is at threat."

"You're horrible," spat Isobel. "She's ill -"

"Very much so, it appears," said Lucius. "And as it turns out, it's much easier to glean information from a person who is so pathetically weak that they can't get out of bed."

Just as Lucius reached the end of the stairway, Draco appeared at the end of the hallway. His face was slack with fear as he rounded the corner. "Father -"

Lucius' smile widened. "Kind of you to join the discussion, Draco."

Draco attempted to nudge Isobel behind him. But she was furious, now. She pushed Draco's hand away, and moved past him. "All filled in now, are you?"

"Oh, yes." Lucius leant back against the banister at the top of the stairs. "Of course, when Narcissa and I found ourselves in your Surrey house after the war, we suspected something of the sort. Your mother only confirmed yesterday what I already knew. It appears the only part of the bargain that your dear mother didn't hold up -" his face curved into a grimace - "was leaving the country, and not allowing you to set foot near my son again."

Draco grabbed Isobel's elbow, and shoved her behind him. "Perhaps you shouldn't bargain with people's lives, Father."

"It wasn't her fault," said Isobel, struggling to free herself from Draco's grip. "I went behind her back to find Draco. She told me not to."

Lucius clicked his tongue. "Telling you not to," he said, "wasn't the deal. The deal was keeping the two of you away from one another."

"Maybe she's a bit more sane than you are."

Lucius smiled. "Maybe." He stepped forwards from the banister, and Draco's grip tightened on her arm. "Now, what your darling mother also told me," he said, "was that you had a very intriguing necklace. One that, I believe -" his gaze dropped to her neck - "you aren't currently wearing."

"Don't touch her," said Draco. His voice was dangerously low.

Lucius rolled his eyes instinctively. "Step out of the way, Draco," he said. "I'll deal with you next." Draco didn't move, and his father blew out a sigh of impatience. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be, Draco."

Tears pricked at Isobel's eyes as she glared at Lucius. "Don't you care about his happiness?" she asked. "Don't you care what he wants?"

"Children," said Lucius, his top lip curling with irritation, "don't know what they want. They don't understand success, or stability. They act on impulse and emotion. Draco will be happier in a family that understands him -"

"No," said Isobel, "he'd be happier in a family that loves him. And love isn't - isn't built from status and reputation -"

"That's not how the world works, you stupid girl."

A snarl emitted Draco's throat as he lunged forward, releasing his grip on Isobel. In a split-second, he had Lucius pinned against the banister with one hand, his other pressing his wand to his father's throat.

Lucius gripped the banister, lips curled in a thin smile. "Going to hurt me, son? After everything I've done for you?"

"Let her leave," said Draco quietly, "and I won't do anything."

"You don't know what's best for you."

Isobel stepped forward. "Draco -"

Draco dug his wand beneath his father's chin, tilting back Lucius' head until his sheet of white hair hung over the dark, empty space beyond. Lucius' smile faltered. "Belly," said Draco, without turning, "Leave. I'll find you."

Isobel hesitated. "I can't just leave you -"

Draco angled his head to face her. "Yes, you can," he said. "I'll find you. Now go."

But Isobel stood still. "Come with me," she said.

Lucius' eyes flickered to her.

"Draco," she said. "Come with me. You know where we can go."

Draco hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Then he slashed his wand, blasting Lucius across the hallway and against a wall. There was a sickening crack as Lucius' head collided with the cement, and he crumpled into a heap in a corner.

Draco grabbed Isobel's hand. Before she could look back, before she could pause for a moment longer, he was pulling her after him, down the long stairway.

Paintings flew in the brinks of her vision as they ran. Isobel's plan was unsound, only half-formed. They could discharge her mother from the hospital and take her with them, but there were other people involved in all of this, that Lucius might go after. Ginny, Blaise and Emily might all be threatened by Lucius, now, but Draco was pulling on her hand, telling her to run faster, and she was stumbling down the final few steps -

"Draco?"

From a room to the right, Narcissa emerged. Her eyes shifted from her son to Isobel, and she stopped; stood still in the doorway.

Isobel moved closer to Draco. She wasn't sure how much Narcissa knew, wasn't quite sure if she took the same stance as Lucius, but didn't want to take her chances.

But if Narcissa had anything to say, she didn't vocalise it. She smoothed down her pristine black skirt and asked, with alarming calm, "where's Lucius?"

As if on command, Lucius reappeared at the top of the staircase. Blood had spilled from the side of his head, streaking his white hair red. Isobel gasped, tugging on Draco's hand, but he didn't move.

"Mother," said Draco. His voice trembled as he spoke. "Help us, please. Tell him not to hurt us."

Narcissa's eyes moved from her son, up to Lucius. There was pain, etched deep in her expression, there were tears in her eyes -

She looked back to Draco and Isobel. Then, with the faintest, slightest shake of her head, she turned on her heel and walked back into the room; the clicking sound of her heels following her there. She shut the door behind her, as if to block out the noise of whatever might happen.

Lucius was descending the stairs, blood still streaming from his temple, but Draco stared only at the door his mother had just closed.

Isobel squeezed his hand. "We have to go."

After a moment, Draco turned, his jaw pulled tight. "That's the only room in the house from which we can Apparate," he said, with a jerky nod to where Narcissa had disappeared. "So we'll have to go outside."

Lucius was gaining on them, and Draco hadn't seemed to notice. So Isobel pulled him towards the huge front door, tried to push it open -

It was locked. Draco cursed and, appearing to regain his adrenaline, flung a spell at the side window. It shattered, and fell with a deafening crash. Before Isobel could even think, Draco was lifting her up by her legs, pushing her through the window -

Shards of glass caught in her hair and cut through her trousers, drawing blood from her shins. She fell on her hands and knees onto the gravel outside, sharp stones digging into her palms.

Draco followed closely behind, landed on the gravel and tugged her up. But the front door was already opening -

They stumbled forward, away from the house. Draco circled an arm around Isobel's shoulders and she prepared herself for the sensation of Apparition. But Lucius had already emerged in the doorway, white hair tinged red - and his wand was pointed straight at Isobel's heart -

It all happened in the same breath.

Isobel tried to spin, and tried to take Draco with her.

Light shot from Lucius' wand, directly towards her.

And Draco's arm slipped from her shoulders, and for a split-second he was gone, somewhere behind her, not touching her -

Isobel felt a graze of light, thin metal at her throat, and Draco's fingers at the back of her neck.

She screamed in objection, pulling at the necklace, and he Apparated, pulling at her.

And everything went black.