They were greeted by Remus’ taut face. He smiled at Maeve in a constrained manner and nodded to Roderick, who uttered a cheery good evening.
“Where is he?” Maeve asked, sensing that the bunker was a slumberous place.
“Severus has him in a room at the back. It’s, well, difficult, I think. Seems he… I think Severus should explain.” Remus fumbled for words and eventually conceded defeat. He beckoned them to follow him and the trio trailed off into the depths of the building.
They came to a halt by a dingy metal door that Maeve had never noticed before. It was set into the wall at an odd angle and would have passed by them unobserved were it not for the fact that Remus was now tapping gently at it.
“Maeve is here,” he hissed through a small grille that was set deep into the metal. Immediately a lock turned and the door opened. Severus stood there looking every inch a worried man. He raised an eyebrow at Roderick.
“I thought I said… oh, never mind. Come in. Lupin, make sure the others are still sleeping.” He stepped back and now Maeve could see Draco’s battered face half-covered by a blanket. Remus muttered something at Severus and walked back into the bowels of the bunker.
The room was small and cell-like, its grey walls pressing in on the inhabitants. Draco was sleeping, or giving some vague impression of sleeping because Maeve thought he looked more dead than alive. Severus had the sort of ponderous expression on his face that Maeve had come to associate with him feeling almost sorry for people. Of course, he seldom felt truly sorry for people, but she could see he was getting very close to it. She stood by him and looked down on the battered boy, silence keeping them company until Roderick broke it with a verbal sledgehammer.
“Murdered anyone else, has he?”
“Not now, Rampton,” Severus said, managing not to look at him in a very noticeable way.
“What’s wrong with him?” Maeve asked, slipping her hand into her husband’s and holding it very tightly for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom.
“A rather heavy dose of the Imperius Curse,” he replied, exerting a faint but comforting pressure on her fingers. “He was completely controlled by someone; impossible to know who that someone was, naturally, but at least I’ve broken the curse.”
“How? I thought only the person casting the spell could break it, or the person under the spell.” She looked at the sleeping boy with interest.
“A severe shock to the system can remove it.” He looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight a little. Maeve waited for him to complete his explanation, his fingers tightening as he did so. “I had to use the Cruciatus Curse, albeit briefly. I am not proud of this,” he added, but he hadn’t needed to. The physical reaction in her hand had told her how unpalatable he had found.his actions.
“Does he know what he did, do you think?” She discovered that, though she had loathed Draco Malfoy and all the odious things he stood for, a certain level of sympathy was creeping up on her. An earlier conversation came back to her in which mention had been made of Draco perfecting the Imperious Curse himself, and fate had chosen to exact this revenge.
“He will when he recovers. He hasn’t spoken since the Cruciatus knocked him out. There’ll be a residual memory of what he did, unless he chooses not to remember. Would you choose to remember killing your own...” He stopped and they both looked uncomfortable. Now that he could distance himself from Kentigern Snape’s actions that little incident had lost some of its importance, but it was still there all the same.
“Something like that could drive you to insanity and straight out the other side,” she remarked. “One of us should stay with him until he wakes up, if only to stop his screaming when he realises what he’s done. Did he have a wand?”
Severus nodded and pulled a sad-looking stick from his robes. “Who knows where he picked this thing up from? The tip is distinctly shoddy and it’s been broken at some point.” His fingers ran over a minor repair to the shaft. “He’ll have some wandless magic, but as long as he is adequately watched he should prove no risk. It’s what we do with him afterwards that concerns me. He might well still be bent on disposing of Neville, and with Neville here that could prove to be inconvenient.”
“He’s lost everything, Severus. No mum or dad now. Draco plays at being this big man yet all I see is a child. We can’t trust him and we can’t throw him out to the wolves. Narcissa kept saying she was alone at the end, convinced that she had lost everything. It’s the other way around, though; it’s Draco that’s lost everything, the stupid sod.”
He regarded her nervously. She usually prefaced an emotional moment with words like that and he wasn’t sure if he had the capacity to deal with an emotional moment at that point in time. Roderick walked across and looked at the prone sleeper.
“Looks like someone really gave him a good wallop before he ended up out in the forest. What happened to him between Grimmauld Place and here, I wonder?”
It was unfortunate that Draco chose that instant to open his dazed eyes. He looked straight into Roderick’s puzzled ones, opened his mouth very wide indeed and began to scream. Maeve had never heard a man scream like that before, with terror ripping from his throat as if all the inhabitants of hell had entered his soul. He scrambled backwards and it was quickly apparent that they would have no need to defend themselves from him. His feet pushed the bed away from the wall with a violent scraping and he collapsed behind it, pulling blankets with him in an attempt to cover himself. Maeve had the sudden notion that he was acting upon the childish principle that if he couldn’t see his attacker then his attacker couldn’t see him.
“Well, someone has well and truly put the wind up him,” Roderick said, whipping out his wand and sealing the sound in the room.
Maeve and Severus leaped forward as one and pulled the bed away from the distraught figure. Draco reacted to this by kicking violently with his legs, desperately trying to disappear into the walls behind him. She quickly reached out and stayed Severus’ wand, which was about to make the boy still.
“No magic,” she said loudly above Draco’s noisy terror. “I think he’s had enough curses thrown at him for one day.”
“How else are we going to “ damn it!” Severus stepped back as a particularly vicious kick caught him on the shin. “I wasn’t going to curse him!” He reached forward to pull Maeve away. “Give him a moment.”
“Give him a moment,” Roderick laughed. “I’d say you were being tad optimistic there, Snape.”
“You, out,” Severus snapped. “Whatever it is you’ve done to him, he’s terrified of you. Although I suspect your face does that to a lot of people. Go and find Lupin; tell him we’re dealing with the situation.”
“You might be dealing with it,” Roderick said with pointed sarcasm as he opened the door, “but are you dealing with it well?”
Severus’ disgusted look was lost on the retreating figure and he returned to the crisis at hand. “He hates you and distrusts me, which of us is going to do the least damage do you think?”
“Maybe neither of us. I could change my appearance.”
He shook his head. “Pointless. We’re going to have to bring him out of this in a rather more brutal way, I think; certainly if we ever intend getting anything out of him.”
The blankets shook like a hairy green hillock and the pair watched, waiting for the quake to subside. Neither of them fancied acquiring the bruises that would surely come when they attempted to pull the blankets back, so Maeve attempted a tentative conversation.
“Draco, whatever happened, you’re safe now.”
Severus gave a cough of astonishment that anyone could consider their situation safe. She gave an it’s-the-best-I-can-do shrug and pressed on.
“I know some terrible things have happened, very terrible things, things that you probably don’t understand right now, but we’re here to help you, not hurt you. If you need to talk about anything, then we’ll listen.”
Severus was growing more stupefied by the second. “Where did you learn to talk like that?” he hissed. “You sound like a second-rate Psycholowitch.”
She flicked him with the back of her hand and pulled a face that clearly told him to shut up. “Leave the talking to me,” she hissed back.
“Draco…”
“No.” Severus stepped forward and pulled the blanket back with such force that Draco shot to his feet and cowered away from him. “Draco, you recognise me?”
The terrified boy nodded in dumb stupefaction, his wild eyes not quite focused. He clawed at the plaster behind him, bringing away some of the chipping paint in the process.
“Draco Malfoy, you have been an errant fool, but you don’t have to continue being a fool. If you want us to help you, we need to know what has happened and where you have been. You need to tell us the truth. Would you prefer to tell it to me or Lord Voldemort?”
“Severus.” Maeve issued a warning note at the harsh tone he was employing. She looked at Draco, and to her astonishment found that the matter-of-fact words seemed to be having some effect. He looked from Severus to her and back again, his face still in the grip of some internal terror, but his body had begun to loosen a little as it threw off the initial fear.
“What do you remember, Draco?” Severus pressed on with his light interrogation.
The terrified boy shook his head, gently at first and then with more agitation until it was rocking from side to side in an exaggerated negative. His lips parted, trying to form words and not succeeding. Maeve moved towards him and then halted at the look of revulsion-tinged hostility he shot her.
“This isn’t working,” Maeve said, retreating to Severus’ friendlier shores.
“Get Longbottom,” he said under his breath. “I’ll keep him sane until you fetch the boy.”
“Neville?”
“Yes, I believe that is his given name.”
“Do you think””
“Yes, otherwise I would not be asking you to get him.” His look of determination brooked no argument so Maeve slipped from the room, a lingering feeling of trepidation wafting in her wake.
If Neville was surprised at being woken in the middle of restless dreams, he did not show it. He pushed his feet into a pair of slippers and padded after her, yawning and doing his best to look alert. Maeve had long since realised why she liked Neville, he was the most restful person she knew. His dogged attitude to life was a refreshing change to Harry’s hysterics or Roderick’s theatricals.
“You look a bit worried,” he remarked as they stopped in front of the door. “What’s happened?”
“When I open this door, Neville, I have no idea what will happen, but you need to be prepared for any eventuality. Do you understand?” In her head she offered up a silent prayer to anyone that might be tuned in to her thoughts and asked that her husband be right in this, because otherwise they might have a minor battle on their hands.
He nodded. “There’s not much to understand. Door opens, anything could happen. I think I’ve got that.” The familiar lopsided smile appeared on his face and she was reassured more by that than by futile prayers to gods that probably weren’t listening anyway.
“I have him,” she hissed into the grille.
With that rather reluctant announcement, the door opened, Neville stepped forward and glanced around him. He found Severus first and nodded an acknowledgment before allowing his eyes to turn to the other occupant.
“Malfoy.” He looked astounded by both his presence and his broken face.
Draco was still reliant on the wall for support, a fact that was obvious from the way his palms rested on its surface, yet he seemed calmer now, almost resigned. He was giving the rather chilling impression of an empty vessel and as he regarded Neville, Maeve saw a look of satisfaction settle on Severus’ face.
“Longbottom.” Draco’s voice had no rhythm. The words were as toneless and dull as the paint on the wall and Neville sought Maeve’s attention.
“When you said anything could happen, I didn’t think you meant nothing would happen?” He shrugged in bewilderment.
“Draco has been through something of an ordeal,” Severus said, addressing Neville as if he were a first year, although the observation was somewhat redundant given Draco’s state. “This was a test of his memory, and his memory has been found wanting. That will be all Longbottom.”
Neville waited for Maeve’s confirmation, and when she nodded he cast one last look at the blank Malfoy and left. With him gone the room descended into a pregnant state.
“What are you looking at me like that for,” Draco said, his tongue evidently the first part of him to recover some of his former vim. He directed his comment at Maeve, who struggled to find an answer. There was a gathering up of himself as he finally let go of the wall and took a slight step forward. Severus moved to precipitate any attack, but it was soon apparent Draco had no intention of attacking anyone. “I want to go to sleep. I want a decent bed and a bath and for no one to wake me up early. I think I should go back to Hogwarts now, or home.” For a brief time they both saw the whining, petulant boy he had always been.
Severus paused, as if weighing up the enormity of Draco’s state of mind. “Draco, there are things that have happened to you that will require some explanation. At this point in time you are incapable of providing those answers, through no fault of your own, I might add. There is no Hogwarts for you to return to, and your home is compromised. The only bed we can offer you is in disarray. If you wish to rest, I suggest you pick it up and remake it.”
The boy blinked at him, as if processing such a vast amount of information was causing his brain some difficulty. “No Hogwarts? Don’t be ridiculous, of course there is Hogwarts.”
“Draco, Hogwarts was severely damaged and is in a parlous state at present,” Maeve chipped in, drawing his disdain once more.
“No one could damage Hogwarts, could they?” He faltered, his head sinking towards the floor. When he raised it again he looked to Severus. “My head feels odd. It’s like, I look into my memory for things, try to see things, reach stuff, but it’s not there. Why isn’t stuff where it should be? I can remember home, but it’s from a long time ago, from when I was a kid. I can’t see it now; in my head, it’s gone.” An edge of hysteria crept in as he continued. “And Mum, she’s there but not there. I can see her face, and I know her name, but, but I can’t smell her or remember how she felt when she hugged me. I can’t remember if I liked her hugging me “ why can’t I remember? Why can’t I remember my dad? Who is my dad?” For one awful moment it seemed as if he might identify Severus as his father.
Maeve turned the bedstead upright again and began gathering up sheets. Severus moved towards Draco and she could see him place a hand on the boy’s shoulder, a fatherly gesture that made her throat tighten and her hands busy themselves with remaking the bed. Severus, she knew, must have thought his memory to have been modified, and he was obviously correct in that assumption, but how much and by whom had his memory been abused?
“Maeve, will make you a Sleeping Draught?” Severus said, his voice unusually gentle. “Draco, get some sleep and tomorrow we will talk about this.”
Draco looked panicked as Maeve stood up, the bed now made. “You were a teacher. I don’t like you.”
“No, you don’t.” She allowed herself a wry smile.
“But I don’t know why I don’t like you,” he spluttered. “I don’t even know how I know you apart from some vague bad smell.”
“I’m sorry, Draco,” she said. There was little else she could say. “I’ll go and make that potion.”
Severus followed her from the room, sealing it as he did so. Maeve hesitated.
“Is that wise? Might he try to harm himself?”
“No, he’s too bewildered and too tired to do anything so significant. Whoever modified his memory did so in an abstract manner. He’s been left with half-memories, which is worse than no memory at all. We’ll have to decide what to do with him; he can’t go to St Mungo’s.”
“Surely that would be the best place for him.”
“On the contrary; he would be subject to questioning by Voldemort’s spies, and he has information that could prove useful to us. There’s still a chance that something can be retrieved from his memory. I will be a difficult undertaking, but I feel we must attempt it.”
Maeve looked grim. “That could destroy his mind completely.”
“Do you think I do not know that? Of course it could, yet you have seen him. There is little left of his mind.”
Remus appeared at the head of the corridor, his face contorted with worry. His words dispelled any minor reservations about the state of Draco’s mind.
“The Ministry has fallen to Voldemort,” he announced with blistering finality. “Minister Bones is dead. There is no news on the identity of the new Minister yet, but it’s bound to one of Voldemort’s closest men.”
“And you know this by what means?” Severus flowed down the corridor to join him.
“Minerva’s Patronus. She has been deposed from Hogwarts and there is some confusion about her successor too.” Remus’ pallor had become greyer than usual. “She seems to think Fenrir Greyback might be a candidate for the post.”
A flicker of pain crossed Severus’ face and he gripped his left forearm. “Well, what can we do about it,” he snapped. “It was inevitable, after all, that the buffoons at the Ministry would fail. There is no school at Hogwarts left to administer, so what is the point in a new Head?”
“Severus?” Maeve was disconcerted by his sudden indifference to an event so catastrophic that it could see the wizarding world finally ruined.
“Maeve?” he retorted, his face a challenge.
“We have to do something.”
He laughed at that, a sickly sound that made her stomach churn. “Do something? Oh, yes, you are right. What shall we do? Storm the Ministry.” He winced again.
Maeve felt a wave of complete despair buffet her. He was right. Severus was always right. They could hardly take back the Ministry; no one could do that now that Voldemort had taken it. He gripped her shoulder in a rather less fatherly way than he had Draco’s.
“I have to go somewhere.” Severus released her, staggering a little as he turned away from them. “Lupin, you have to get them all away from here. Use your knowledge of the country to get them somewhere remote and safe. If Draco could find us then that means the person controlling him can find us. Get them ALL to safety. Leave no one behind and control Potter. It is imperative no one sees him alive. If you will both excuse me.” He moved rapidly, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight with such speed that Maeve found herself shouting after someone who was no longer there.