Breaking the rules

Draco's heart raced as he approached the far end of the bridge spanning the ravine that separated Hogwarts castle from the main gate. They had slipped away as soon as he rejoined his parents. He could now hear the sounds of battle raging behind them, but all he wanted...what he assumed all the Malfoys wanted...was to get as far from Voldemort and his deadly army as possible.

With Potter gone, Draco knew Britain was no longer remotely safe for anyone. Voldemort's delusions of grandeur had already reached a fever pitch, and he no longer even pretended to look for valid reasons to kill. Purebloods, half-bloods, mud-muggleborns (Draco caught himself with a slight eye roll...he was still trying to eliminate that vile word from his vocabulary) and muggles alike were all equally likely targets for his murderous impulses. Draco wanted no part of it anymore. Hadn't for quite some time, honestly. He was immensely relieved that his father finally seemed to be coming to his senses.

When they reached the far end of the bridge, his mother stopped and turned toward his father, "I think we should stay and help, Lucius."

"We need to get out of Britain before the Aurors start making arrests," Lucius replied, shaking his head. Narcissa sighed disapprovingly and Lucius hissed, "I won't go back to Azkaban, Cissa!"

"What?" Draco stared back and forth between his parents. "Why are you talking like V- like the Dark Lord lost?"

"It is inevitable, Darling," Narcissa smiled faintly, a faraway look in her eyes.

"How is that inevitable?" Draco demanded angrily. "Without Potter-"

"Harry Potter is alive," Narcissa announced gleefully. In the dim light, her eyes glittered almost maniacally, reminding him unpleasantly of his mad aunt Bella. "The Dark Lord used the killing curse on him; yet once again, he lives!" She exclaimed giddily, "Surely the boy will finally defeat the old bastard tonight!"

Draco felt his jaw hanging loosely but couldn't seem to coordinate his facial muscles to correct this. "Huh?" He mumbled dazedly, staring at his mother.

"Your mother lied to the Dark Lord. Potter is alive," Lucius snarled irritably. "Any moment now, I expect this will become a very unpleasant place for anyone bearing the Dark Mark. So I suggest we get moving."

Draco realized with a sinking feeling that his father hadn't changed at all. Once again, he was just trying to cover his own arse. "I'm not leaving," he declared, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Excuse me?" Lucius asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you want to get arrested, boy? They won't show you any pity after your role in Dumbledore's death."

"You heard me, Father," Draco replied, turning back toward the castle. "I'm not leaving while there's still hope that maniac can be killed. If there's a chance to rid the world of that monster, I'm not running away from it!"

"Oh Draco..." Narcissa murmured proudly. Turning to her husband, she firmly stated, "You heard him Lucius. We're going back." Not waiting for her husband's response, she hooked her hand through Draco's elbow and they began walking back toward the fight.

"You can't go back!" Lucius yelled in a most undignified manner, "if the Dark Lord lives he will know you lied to him, Cissa. He will hunt you down to the ends of the earth..."

"All the more reason to help make sure he is eliminated," Narcissa's tone was calm, but Draco could feel her hand trembling against his arm.

Patting it reassuringly, he said, "I will never let anything happen to you, Mum."

"Isn't that sweet?" a harsh voice crooned mockingly from his right just as they paused at the entrance to the courtyard. Draco swallowed nervously as he and Narcissa were suddenly surrounded by four men in full Death Eater garb. "Drop it, boy!" Their apparent leader ordered when Draco raised his wand (or rather his mother's) slightly.

Knowing his father was right behind them, and naturally assuming he would back them up, Draco ignored the man, shouting "Stupefy!" and blasting a figure he recognized as Travers in the face before casting a quick protection spell around Narcissa and himself.

"Drop it or your father dies!" another voice ordered coldly from behind them.

Draco risked a peek over his shoulder and found Lucius being held at wand point by a fifth Death Eater. "Do as he says, son!" Lucius urged, his eyes wide with fear.

"Fuck!" Draco dropped the wand in his hand reluctantly. One of their captors quickly picked it up and snapped it in half, eliciting a pitiful moan from Narcissa. Travers staggered to his feet and viciously punched Draco in the nose, sending him flying back into the arms of one of the other men, who immediately grabbed his arms. Draco shook his head dazedly to try to dispel the sudden ringing in his ears and winced as the motion sent blood flying everywhere. He could feel both eyes already starting to swell.

"Aye, you're fucked alright, boy," the leader's amusement was vastly eclipsed by his obvious rage. Turning on Narcissa, he hissed, "You will pay for your treachery, bitch!" Snapping his fingers, he ordered the others, "Bring them inside so we can play without interruption. There's too many goody-goodies out here.

The man holding Draco shoved him forward, nearly knocking him to the ground. Meanwhile, another man grabbed Narcissa by the hair, twisting it until she let out a shriek. Behind her, Draco noticed his cousin, Nymphadora, and her husband, former Professor Lupin bearing down on them. He started to smile, thinking they were about to be rescued, but the couple were suddenly cut down by matching flashes of green light from somewhere behind Draco. He never saw who had killed them because his personal guard suddenly punched him in the kidney hard enough to force him to his knees. "Get a move on!" the masked man growled, roughly pulling him to his feet and shoving him toward the castle steps before he had a chance to catch his breath.

As they were forced through the front doors, Draco noticed Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan fighting with Walden McNair. They were doing fine for the moment, but Yaxley was sneaking up on Neville's right. "Longbottom! Look out!" Draco yelled, deciding that he was in enough trouble anyway that things couldn't get much worse. He was happy to see the Gryffindor turn and easily take Yaxley down with a blasting hex before his own head was suddenly slammed into a nearby wall, nearly knocking him unconscious.

"Oops!" His captor smirked sarcastically before he continued to drag Draco along as though nothing had happened. Draco struggled to remain conscious as stars flashed in front of his eyes. He felt something trickling down his forehead and the vision in his right eye was quickly obstructed by blood. He tried wiping it away with the back of his free hand but it was flowing too steadily to do any good.

"Leave him alone!" Narcissa yelled tearfully. "It's me you're angry with. Let Draco go!"

"Mum, I won't leave you..." Draco mumbled thickly. It felt like he'd left part of his brain behind on the wall and he wondered groggily how he was still standing.

"How noble," the leader of the group sneered. "Moot point though. None of you are going anywhere." There was a grim finality to his words and Draco's heart sped up as it finally sank in that they were in very serious trouble. He reached over and clasped his mother's free hand, squeezing it firmly. She squeezed back and he shot her a weak smile before their guards forced them apart.

"The Dark Lord won't be happy with you," Lucius murmured quietly from the back of the group.

Even Draco rolled his eyes at this. "Why do you think we're doing this?" the leader cackled. "Your bitch betrayed him. You're all going to pay for her lies,"

"The Dark Lord is going to lose," Draco muttered scornfully. "Why not just cut your losses and run?" He gasped as the leader suddenly turned on him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, sending white hot pain through his scalp.

"If I were you I'd mind my tongue...you're almost as bad as your father," The taller man sneered. Draco swallowed nervously but continued to look him in the eye. After a long moment, the man grunted, "It's too bad your father isn't more like you. You must get your nerve from your mum's side. Unfortunately for you, her nerve is why you're going to die now..."

"No!" Narcissa began to sob, as they were hustled down a long flight of stairs, "Not Draco. Please not Draco!"

"Mum, stop it," Draco begged quietly. He could see from the sudden gleam in their captor's eyes that her begging was only going to make things worse for him. He was her biggest weakness and she was making it all too clear.

"Cissa, don't..." his father's tone indicated that he knew it as well. "You'll do him no good, luv..."

Just then the group stopped. One of the men opened a thick iron door and they were shoved into a very dimly lit room. Draco shivered when he noticed heavy chains hanging from the walls and ceiling. The heavy clang of the door closing behind them reverberated painfully through his aching head, and he barely fought back a moan. "Hang the bitch over there..." the leader ordered, gesturing to a set of shackles hanging from the ceiling near the middle of the room.

"No!" Narcissa fought, kicking and screaming, but two of the men easily subdued her and she was soon suspended from the chains, her toes barely touching the floor.

"I don't remember giving her permission to wear clothes," the leader smirked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Make the boy remove them..."

Before he could respond, a burning pain in Draco's left forearm nearly brought him to his knees. He was dimly aware that everyone else in the room seemed similarly afflicted. Pulling up his sleeve he stared as his Dark Mark slowly faded into a greyish blob and then disappeared entirely.

Lucius seemed to recover first, letting out a harsh, humorless laugh. "He's gone," he gazed steadily at the leader, "You don't have to do this, Antonin, you can run,"

The other men's masks had vanished along with Draco's Mark. Draco shifted his gaze to the man he now recognized as Antonin Dolohov. He should have known...the man was one of Voldemort's more vicious puppets. For a moment, Dolohov seemed to almost consider his father's words. Then, his smile hardened. "We're not all cowards like you, Lucius. There's nowhere I can go that the Ministry won't follow and you know it. My life is ruined because of your bitch wife. I may be going down, but I'm taking you with me."

"Antonin-" Lucius took a half step closer, raising his hand slightly in a placating gesture. "Surely we can find some compromise..."

"Stop talking!" Dolohov bellowed, making everyone jump. "You think you can talk your way out of anything with that silver tongue of yours, but not this time! In fact..." his eyes narrowed behind his mask and he grinned evilly. Flourishing his wand, he gestured at Lucius and flicked his wrist. "Diffindo!"

Lucius' eyes widened and he let out a garbled shout as blood began to pour from his mouth. At first Draco wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but then Lucius dropped to his knees, clutching his throat. "Father?" Draco took a step toward him, but was held back by his friend Goyle's father.

"Aww, too bad, so sad," Dolohov said in a mocking sing-song tone. "I always knew that mouth of yours would get you killed. Guess your tongue isn't so enchanting after all..."

"Lucius!" Narcissa screamed from her chains. "He's choking, you arseholes! Help him!"

Draco tried again to move closer to his father, who was now lying on his side, his face purple and his eyes bugging out of his head as blood continued to bubble from his mouth. Before he could move two steps, Goyle Senior punched him hard in the stomach and then slammed his elbow into into the back of his head, knocking him to the floor. Draco blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as darkness threatened to overwhelm him.

When his head finally stopped spinning, his father was motionless, his face almost black. The blood flowing from his mouth had slowed to a trickle and Draco could see that his tongue was now just a ragged stump. He had choked to death on his own tongue. "Father?" Draco whispered hopelessly, knowing he'd get no response. Lucius' eyes continued to stare lifelessly at the ceiling and Draco saw red. Anger flooded his veins and he felt his magic boiling within him. Jumping to his feet, he pointed at Dolohov and screamed, "Avada Kadavra!"

Dolohov looked amused for a moment, but then a weak blast of green light shot from Draco's empty hand. The startled Death Eater barely managed to jump out of its path, landing hard on the dirty stone floor. "You little shit!" he snarled as he stood up and slowly brushed himself off. "You'll pay for that..."

"So you keep saying," Draco sneered, clenching his fists to try to disguise the fact that they were shaking.

"Chain him up," Dolohov barked. "Make sure he's facing his mommy..."

Goyle Senior grabbed Draco's arm and tugged him toward the wall across from Narcissa, who was weeping brokenly as she stared at Lucius. Draco jerked his arm free, but Goyle responded by backhanding him across the face and then grabbing him by the hair near the gash on his temple. Stunned by the pain and nearly blinded by the blood from the cut, the swelling around his broken nose and his tears of pain, Draco wasn't able to resist as the bulky man dragged him to the wall and strung him up by his wrists. "I'll kill you," Draco snarled at Dolohov once his vision cleared a bit and he saw that the other man was groping Narcissa's breasts through her robes. Thankfully, she seemed too shocked to notice.

"I'd love to see you try again, little boy, but we've got other games to play," Dolohov sneered. Grabbing Narcissa's hair, he pulled her head around to face Draco. "Forget your husband, bitch. It's time to play with your darling Draco..." nodding to Goyle he muttered, "Get rid of his shirt, this is going to get messy..."

Goyle immediately reached over and ripped Draco's shirt down the front, pushing the tattered remains off his arms where it hung from the chains around his wrists. "Goyle, please. He's your son's best friend..." Narcissa murmured pleadingly.

"Vincent was Greg's best friend, and your brat got him killed," Goyle grunted, avoiding her gaze.

Draco decided to keep his mouth shut about what really happened when he realized one of the other men was Crabbe's father. He was currently glaring daggers at Draco, his eyes red rimmed and shiny.

Dolohov casually strolled over to Draco and slowly looked him over. "You know, I think I can use you for the other part of my plan. There's a certain irony to sending the Boy Who Won't Fucking Stay Dead off to the dementors disguised as his worst enemy. I know of an Auror who also has a bone to pick with the Malfoy family. He'd love to get his claws into you."

Draco swallowed hard. "I won't help you hurt Harry," he said, shaking his head firmly. "Over my dead body."

"Exactly," Dolohov laughed mockingly. "All I need is your hair..." Smiling wickedly, he pulled out a knife with a long curved blade and reached for Draco's head.

Draco rolled his eyes slightly, bracing himself for more hair pulling. He was utterly unprepared when the Death Eater shoved the knife under his scalp and sliced off a largish flap of skin along with a large handful of his hair. Blood flooded into Draco's eyes and he stared at the other man in shock, unable to make a sound as his throat closed over from the unexpected pain, which slowly intensified as his nerves belatedly registered what had happened. Within seconds the pain had become nearly unbearable.

"Draco! No!" Narcissa thrashed against her chains, weeping and screaming. Draco felt himself slowly collapsing in his own chains as the pain quickly overwhelmed him. He vaguely registered the jingle of rattling chains and then his mother's voice was a lot closer. "Help him. Heal him. Please. Please. He's going to bleed to death. Please!" Draco tried to open his eyes but there was simply too much blood for him to see anything and the simple act of trying to raise his eyelids made the pain in his head intensify. Also, someone was screaming so loud it hurt his ears.

"Shut up!" Dolohov slapped him across the face and the screams cut off as he sucked in a painful breath. He was surprised to realize the screams had come from him, and he bit his lip, attempting to keep from giving Dolohov the satisfaction of seeing him react further. He also had a crazy hope of somehow not upsetting his mother any further. "Now...you could help him, Narcissa..." Dolohov said in a mockingly gentle tone that made Draco's heart lurch, recognizing instinctively that this was a trap.

"How?" she asked eagerly, obviously not recognizing the danger. "I'll do anything!"

"Good. Put him out of his misery," Dolohov growled. "Kill him."

Draco's breath hitched in his throat, and he shook his head frantically, setting off a wave of dizziness. He realized fearfully that he had already lost a great deal of blood between his broken nose and the injuries to his scalp. He vaguely remembered Madame Pomfrey telling him once that head wounds bled more than other injuries. He had to get help and soon.

"No!" Narcissa gasped. "No! Heal him! You can still heal him!"

"Do you recognize this knife?" Dolohov asked, sounding smug.

There was a long silence and then Narcissa sobbed, "No! How did you find that?"

"Your dear sister," Dolohov chuckled darkly. "I take it you recognize it then?"

"You're a monster!" Narcissa sobbed. Draco heard a few muffled thumps and realized his mother was hitting Dolohov weakly on the chest. "How could you? He's a child..."

"But he's YOUR child," Dolohov replied coldly. "That's what makes it so perfect. Now, what is it going to be? You know he's as good as dead. How he dies is up to you. Are you going to let him die slowly, in agony?" As if to emphasize this, he pulled on the edge of Draco's torn scalp, forcing an involuntary scream from him at the excruciating pain. "I will make sure he stays awake until the end. I'll make sure he feels every minute of it. Or you can kill him now, and save him the misery."

Struggling to remain standing, Draco tried unsuccessfully to open his eyes, "Mum? What does he mean? What knife?" He whispered, his throat too dry to speak more loudly.

"Oh, baby," Narcissa whimpered, her voice thick with tears. "It belonged to my great grandfather. It's c-cursed. I-it-" she let out a choked sob and trailed off, clearly unable to continue.

"Cuts from this knife never heal. They fester and spread until the victim... that would be you...finally dies after hours, sometimes even days of intense pain and suffering. Part of the curse is that you cannot die directly from the wounds caused by this blade no matter how much blood is lost. You won't die until the infection finally reaches your heart," Dolohov sounded almost obscenely gleeful. "The last recorded victim was cut on the foot and took a week to die."

Draco swallowed thickly. His head already hurt too much for him to think straight. "Mum..." He did know he didn't want to die. "Tell me he's lying..."

"It's true. God help me, it's true..." Narcissa whispered, her misery obvious in every word. "I'm so sorry, baby. I thought that knife had been destroyed years ago. Your aunt lied..."

"Shocking," Dolohov murmured dryly, "But hardly the point. What's it gonna be? Do I have to make the decision easier for you? Maybe I should cut off something else? Something a bit more painful..."

A hand suddenly yanked at the front of Draco's trousers and he flinched away, whimpering. He was far beyond caring anymore about trying to appear strong. "No! Mum, please make him stop. Mum...please!" His voice ended on a hysterical note as he felt his pants and boxers jerked to his knees. He heard the other four Death Eaters chuckling uncomfortably in the background and blushed despite himself. This couldn't be happening. He should have kept walking earlier. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that at least he'd helped Longbottom on the way here, so his death wouldn't be completely in vain.

"No! I can't! Gods forgive me!" Narcissa sobbed just as he felt cold metal against his inner thigh.

"Too bad," Dolohov murmured coldly, pressing the blade deeper into Draco's flesh.

"Mum! Do it! Please!" Draco screamed frantically. He decided that he would definitely rather die now than live through any more of this. "Mum!" He howled as he felt the blade cut into the side of his scrotum.

"I love you, Draco," The chains jingled again. He saw a flash of blond hair through all the blood, felt cool fingers brush against his cheek, and then, "Avada kedavra!"

**********

AN - I'm really glad this part is over with. It all turns around after this!