Narcissa, but it was a Narcissa he had never known. The bitterness and the distance was gone. All he could feel was her love for him. Because it felt completely authentic, he trusted what she was saying to him.
"Why are you telling me all this now?"
"I have the benefit of" she seemed to search for the word, "an elevated view over the proceedings, so to speak." Her smile was impish.
"They let you into heaven?" he asked. In his mind's eye, Draco could imagine how enormous his eyes were as he said this.
She laughed. He laughed too. He hadn't meant to sound so incredulous.
"I' m supposed to tell you that I' m not really here. This is all in your head, which I daresay has taken quite a pounding this week," she scolded. "We don' t have a lot of time, so you need to listen to me very carefully."
"Yes?"
She seemed to make sure he was truly paying attention, before continuing. "When the time comes, look for the light and head towards it. You'll be safe if you do that. Find it and you'll be alright. If you remember nothing else about this, remember that."
Oh dear God. He was going to die.
Since she was a figment of his imagination, he didn't actually need to say this aloud for her to hear it. Narcissa rolled her eyes. Her floating white robes, which seemed to be an extension of her body, billowed outwards with annoyance.
"I didn' t say anything about dying, Draco! Honestly, you over react just like your father. Heed my words and you'll be fine."
"Ok, white light equals good. I got it."
A coolness washed over him. It was the fear and the knowledge that had been buried in his subconscious from the moment Hermione had been put under Imperious. Since he was having a conversation with his subconscious, he thought it would be a good idea to ask it a couple of things he hadn't realised were bothering him.
"Mother?"
"Yes? Quickly Draco."
"Given your elevated vantage point and allwhat' s happened to Hermione?"
Draco asked. "Why I can't I feel her? I can always feel her" He saw himself touching his chest, touching where his heart was, feeling a phantom pain.
His mother did not smile or laugh this time. But the same annoying, kindly look was still there. Draco didn't like any of it anymore. He wanted to know why Hermione wasn't answering him.
"You'll have time. Just remember what I told you. I'm sorry I can't be more specific." She looked over her shoulder, as if hearing a noise he couldn' t detect. And then, with a parting smile, she was gone.
Draco woke up.
Chapter Forty-Three
When Draco opened his eyes, Blaise was leaning against a wall with one knee bent under him. Like Draco, he was wearing black; black school pants that were slightly dusty at the knees and a light, hooded jumper.
He had a faintly amused look on his fine-boned face as he smoked a cigarette. There was a dripping noise in the distance. Draco focussed on that rhythm, eventually emerging out of his stupor.
He swallowed, licked his dry lips. "Hey."
Blaise took a long drag from his cigarette, seeming to study Draco quite seriously before replying. "Hey."
"How long have I been out?"
"Three hours."
The enormous pain in his left shoulder receded enough to inform Draco that the more minor aches in his arms and legs was due to the fact that he was strung up in chains against a wall.
There were no windows and the air was wet and stale. He could only guess that he was presently in the dungeons. Other revelations soon confirmed this.
His wrists and ankles were in manacles. A quick glance to the right revealed a pulley-system that must have operated the restraints. There were weights attached to a wheel and a lever that probably determined the slack of the chains.
As painfully as Draco was currently stretched, the lever only looked to be in the lowest setting. If Blaise pushed it to the top, Draco's acknowledged, with a strange sort of placidity, that his limbs would be ripped from his body.
Right. Definitely the dungeons.
And if that didn't make matters worse, the fiery pain in his right thigh was due to a six-inch bit of jagged wood sticking out of his flesh. There was a gash on his forehead. Sticky, dried blood ran down his eye and the left side of his face.
The stairs, Draco recalled with a groan. Done in by a set of steps.
"I didn't know you