Murder at Malfoy Manor

"What the HELL do you mean this isn't your house?" Harry asked. His hand was shaking very badly, making the beam from the flashlight bob up and down.

"Not my house. No mi casa. Non ma maison. Nicht mein Haus," Draco said, sarcastically. "Now do you understand, Potter?"

"Now is not the time to be a fucking smartass, Malfoy!" Harry said. "If this isn't your house, then who does it belong to?" Draco just smirked at him, and Harry found himself loosing patience.

Harry stepped up to Draco and got in his face. "Don't forget that I have a gun, Malfoy." He smiled wickedly at him. "You either tell me what I want to know, or I'll blow your head off." He shone the light right in Draco's face, and with his free hand, he took the gun from the back of his pajama bottoms.

Draco did not even flinch when Harry put the gun to his forehead. "I don't think you'd shoot me, Potter; you don't have the balls."

"Don't tempt me, you bastard! Tell me what you know about all of this!" Harry said through violently clenched teeth.

"First of all," Draco sneered angrily, "stop talking to me like I'm a bitch!" He grabbed the flashlight from Harry's hand. "Secondly, I think you should stop stalling. Either pull the damn trigger or get the fuck out of my way. I, for one, would love to see where this tunnel leads! Maybe you'd rather stand here and argue with me instead of trying to find a way out of here?"

Hermione, her eyes wide with fright, tried to calm them both down. "Harry, please put the gun down," she said, putting her hand gently on his arm. He glared at Draco and slowly he lowered the weapon. "I'm sure Draco is just as confused and clueless about this house as we are," she said, looking over at him for confirmation. "Right?"

"That's not exactly true," he said, apologetically.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "You don't have anything to do with these murders, do you?" Tears were standing in her eyes, ready to come tumbling down her cheeks.

"Of course he does!" Ginny said. "Have you forgotten who he is? Stop thinking with your cunt and see him for what he really is!"

"And what's that?" Draco asked. "Please enlighten me, you cheating whoring slut!"

"How dare you talk to her like that!" Harry shouted. He jumped on top of Draco, knocking the flashlight from his hand and sent them both tumbling to the floor. They were rolling around, punching the hell out of each other, screaming obscenities.

Hermione moaned in exasperation. "Stop it!" she said, trying to pry Draco from Harry. "People are dead, or have you forgotten?" She picked up the flashlight and aimed the beam at Pansy's charred remains. "Do you see her? Someone did this to her. A sick someone who obviously wants to pick us off one by one. Now unless you want to end up dead like her, I suggest you stop the petty name calling and the juvenile fighting matches right now!" she yelled. "If we're going to get out of here alive, we need to put aside our differences and work together. Grow up for Merlin's sake!"

The two struggling men on the floor looked up at her. Harry let go of the fistful of Draco's hair he was trying to rip out, and Draco stopped his fist in mid-punch. They both wore identical masks of fear and guilt.

"Sorry," Harry said, getting up.

Draco got to his feet and automatically smoothed his rumpled hair. "If Potter and his bit... beautiful wife," Draco said, making a face as if the words themselves tasted bad, "are done wrongly accusing me, physically attacking me and being just plain rude, I will be more than happy to tell you what I know." He shot Harry a look of pure hate and Harry gave it right back. "May I?" he said to Hermione, indicating he'd like to have the flashlight back.

She handed it to him, wondering what in the world he was up to.

Hermione, Ginny and Harry watched as Draco made his way over to the mirror. He placed his hand inside and then turned to them. "I'll tell you everything I know on the way."

***

Neville opened one eye. All he saw was pure darkness. 'Where the bloody hell am I?' he wondered. 'Am I dead?' He felt the ground around him, finding nothing. Raising his hands, he came in contact with something solid above him and he panicked. 'I AM dead! I'm in my coffin!' He started to cry in frustration as he pushed up with all his might and nothing budged. He hit his injured hand and screamed out in pain. Realizing being dead shouldn't hurt; he came to the conclusion that he had been buried alive.

Claustrophobia set in and he went totally berserk, flailing his legs and arms, tears welling up and sweat soaking his body. He rolled over to his side, his foot coming out from under the bed and he stopped- stunned. A tiny bit of hope made him smile. Maybe he wasn't buried alive after all! Feeling his way around the obsticale with his good hand, he realized there was a way out and slid on his back until he was free.

Standing up, he felt the top of whatever it was that had been holding him prisoner. "A bed!" he almost shouted. "How the bloody hell did I get under a bed?" The last thing he remembered was walking down the tunnel with Pansy and suddenly there was a lot of pain. "Someone shot me! I remember!" He felt his way around the bed, his slippers making crunching noises as he stepped on the broken glass that littered the floor.

He was feeling more than a little confused. Where was everyone? Why was he all alone and under the bed like he was hiding from something? A disturbing thought popped into his head and he wondered if everyone else was dead and he was the only one still alive. Maybe he was alone- alone with the killer! His heart started racing again and he stumbled through the dark, turning this way and that, knowing for a fact that the murderer was going to pounce on him at any moment.

***

Draco led the way, Hermione slightly behind him, but still holding his hand. Ginny walked behind Hermione and Harry was last, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if they were being followed.

"So tell us, Malfoy," Ginny said, "tell us everything you know about what's going on here."

"Well, I guess it all started at this one party I attended about six years ago." Draco shook the dimming flashlight again, but it didn't get any brighter this time. "Shit!" he said. "Oh well. Where was I? Oh, yeah- the party. So like I was saying, I was at this party and low and behold, I saw Blaise walk in. He was dressed very suavely and was acting like a pompous ass- as always."

Draco slowed his pace, so he'd be able to tell his story in it's entirety before they got to the end of the tunnel and probably got ambushed by the killer. "we were tossing back drinks like crazy and soon we were smashed. I started telling him about my so called wife, and he started going on about how I was a pansy-assed, pussy-whipped, moron for letting my wife run all over me."

Draco hated telling people anything about his personal life, but he new he really had no choice. "She had been cheating on me since before we were even married. I even caught her in bed with different men at different times and just said 'whatever'. Blaise thought I was weak and that I didn't have the balls to divorce her. He was under the false impression that I loved my wife." Draco stopped at looked at Hermione. "He was dead wrong. I turned a blind eye to her affairs because I didn't care what she did. I was in love with someone else."

"Yeah, we know!" Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You were madly in lust with Hermione and only married Pansy because you were too much of a damn coward to tell her how you felt. Tell us something we don't already know!"

Draco wanted nothing more than to pummel the shit out of Harry. He ground his teeth together to keep from saying something smart; he didn't want to piss of Hermione again. "I'm getting to it, Potter," he said as calmly as he could. He looked at them, one by one and then turned and started walking again. "He said I needed to put her in her place, and to give the cheating bitch the punishment she deserved. He then told me a secret. A secret that made even ME sick to my stomach."

"What was the secret?" Hermione asked, not sure if she wanted to hear it.

"The punishment for HIS cheating wife was to chain her to the bed, starve her, rape her and then leave her for weeks a time with only his crazy mother to take care of her."


***

Neville found his way to the door and out into the hall. He took a few cautious steps forward, hoping he didn't trip over a dead body or something. The only sound was the sound of his breathing, the only smell was the smell of- perfume? He stopped and sniffed the air, puzzled. It smelled like flowers and reminded him of Hogwarts for some reason.

He heard a door open somewhere behind him and whirled around. "Wh... who's there?" he whispered, praying that no one answered back. There was only silence and he relaxed, thinking it had only been his imagination playing tricks. He decided to keep moving, taking small steps, and when his foot hit only air, he realized he was at the stair case.

A small tinkling laugh came from nowhere. He turned back around, clutching his heart. He stood paralyzed to the spot, afraid to move a muscle. "Is someone there?" he asked into the darkness. The scent of the flowery perfume became stronger and he heard footsteps coming towards him.

"Hello, Neville," a sweet voice said.

"I... I know you don't I?" Neville said, trying to squint into the dark to get a look. He was sure he knew who it was, but what was she doing here?

"Yes. You know me. You know me very well." There was a strange noise and then a small light popped out of the darkness, illuminating a familiar face. "And that, dear Neville, is a problem."

The light went out and Neville, caught off guard, was hit in the head by something very hard. He lost his footing and fell backward down the stairs, landing with a sickening crunch on the marble floor below.

"Problem solved!" the killer said with a laugh, tossing the brick down the stairs, where it landed next to Neville's crumpled body.

***

"You mean he kept her locked up and starving while he went traveling around the world, having a jolly good time?" Harry was thoroughly disgusted. "What happened to her and what's she have to do with you and this house?"

Draco could see flickering light in the distance and knew the end was near. "I said I didn't believe him, so he brought me to his house- this house- to show me his handy work."

"This house belongs... belonged to Zabini?" Ginny asked. "Did you see her- his wife? When he brought you here?"

"Yes." Draco stopped at the partially opened door at the end of the passage. "I saw her, and I helped her," he said and pushed the door open.

A/N: How exactly did Draco help this poor woman? Will the room they just entered hold any clues to the killer's identity?