I knew straight away that something was wrong the moment Bernard greeted me off the train for the Easter holidays.

He looked deflated; his normally thick hair thinning on top, revealing age spots; no longer looking the tall standing important wizard of money and power he once was as his whole posture stooped forwards as though he was suffering some kind of internal agony.

"Blaire, my dear," he rasped shakily, engulfing me in a weak hug. "Thank you, thank you for coming home."

It wasn't as though I really had much choice. Unusually, Hogwarts was to remain closed over the two weeks of Easter and students were not permitted to stay on.

I was guessing this had a lot to do with the fact that half the staff were busy needed in their other career as hard working, murdering Death Eaters.

But Bernard had been surprisingly keen on me coming home, not once mentioning a thing about work as he normally did when coming up with reasons why it would be best for me to stay elsewhere.

"Is everything okay?" I frowned, somewhat stupidly when things were clearly not. "How's the cauldron business?"

He gave his head a brief nervous shake. "Not good, pet. Not good..."

He didn't elaborate, instead taking my trunk for me and leading the way as he wheeled it out of the station.

"So," he said casually as he drove us home, his voice sounding lighter than usual, "have you heard from your mother lately?"

I was stunned at the question. Mother never got in touch, even before she fled the country. Bernard knew this more than anyone.

"Uh- no," I shrugged coolly. "I haven't seen nor spoken to her in almost two years. Why? Have you?"

"No- no, no," he said hurriedly, before lowering his voice to a bitter mutter, "not a fucking sausage."

He emitted a heavy sigh as he turned into the driveway; clearly disappointed.

I looked up at the mansion I used to call home but hadn't done so in a long time, and I failed to hide the gasp that escaped my lips.

"I had to let the staff go," Bernard mumbled upon seeing my reaction. "So maintenance has been put on the back burner of late."

That was an understatement. The building looked utterly derelict; dead shrubs crawling up the peeling walls, smashed roof tiles fallen to the ground, and windows so dirty you could barely see through them.

"Well, I can spruce it up a bit," I said, thinking surely just a quick wave of the wand should do the trick.

"Meh," Bernard shrugged heavily, his whole body sagging as if he had the world upon his shoulders. "I shouldn't bother. What's the point?"

Damn, my step father had some serious depression going on.

It didn't take long to find out why.

For, on my second night home, as I went to bed leaving Bernard sitting in his armchair nursing the usual whiskey that he now drank from dawn till dusk, shit happened.

*****

"What in Merlin's name are you playing at?" Narcissa hissed as she watched her only son disappear beneath a cloak of evil.

"I'm doing it for her, Mother," he spat from behind the silver mask, sounding frighteningly like his father.

"This is too dangerous!" Narcissa fretted. "You could get yourself killed if they think you're betraying them in any way. I won't let you do this!"

Draco lifted the mask and looked his mother dead in the eye. "They will kill her if I don't step in, and I will never forgive myself if anything happens to her. Please, you must understand that I have to do this."

Narcissa swallowed; but she had no answer. Because she did understand. She saw it in his eyes. She saw exactly the kind of love her son held for this girl; the same girl Narcissa herself looked upon as the daughter she never had.

"But if she willingly goes with them-" she began, but knew, as soon as the words left her mouth, how futile they actually were.

"You know she won't, Mother. She will fight them before agreeing to become one of them. Those bloody Gryffindors have been rubbing off on her."

Narcissa closed her eyes and nodded; turning away as Draco lowered the mask back down over his face.

******

I smiled sadly down at the tiny silver dog nestled in the palm of my hand, trailing a single finger across its back.

"I miss you, Drac," I whispered, trying to ignore the familiar ache of my heart whenever I thought about my lost friends.

It hurt all the time now; the dull heavy feeling becoming an unwanted lodger in my body. The absence of both Draco and Neville made me feel lonelier than I'd ever thought possible, but worse than that was the fear; the fear that they were in terrible danger and bad things were happening to them.

I would have given anything - anything, just to hear that they were okay.

As I brought the Scottie dog up to my lips, giving it an ardent kiss; a sudden loud bang from downstairs made me jump out of my skin.

My first thought was that Bernard had fallen asleep and dropped the whiskey bottle.

But the bang had been too loud and too severe.

And then there were more bangs and shouts, the whole mansion echoing with loud footfalls and crashes.

My hand flew instantly to my wand as I leapt up off my bed; desperately ignoring the wild thumping of my heart as it was clear now that we were being raided.

Before I could make it to my bedroom door, however, it flew open and I stifled a scream as a Death Eater raised their wand and disarmed me before I could react.

Putting my head forward, I went to barrel past them, but they grabbed me around the waist; a hand flying to my mouth before I could scream.

"Damn it, Blaire; shush!"

I froze at the familiar voice; my chest rising and falling heavily as I craned my neck to look up into the grey eyes of the Death Eater who had pulled me into an iron like grip.

Draco.

My heart stilled as we stared into each other's eyes, listening to the violent goings on downstairs.

"Where is she, Smith?"

"I already told you; I don't know! Give me more time... I- I can find her!"

"The Dark Lord has already given you time. It's too late."

Realising my step father was in mortal danger, I kicked and writhed, trying desperately to free myself from Draco's hold, but he was strong and kept me firmly pinned to him as I listened to the horrifying sound of my stepfather pleading for his life.

"No! I beg of you, NO-!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A scream stuck in my throat; I could barely register what was happening as Draco hurriedly dragged me across my room towards the wardrobe.

"Get in and remain quiet," he hissed in my ear as he wrenched open the door and pushed me inside; shutting me in as the sound of hurried footsteps in the distance grew closer.

"Malfoy!" A sudden gruff voice sounded from my bedroom's threshold. "The job's done. Any sign of the daughter?"

"No," I heard Draco answered abruptly. "I've scoured the room for any signs of her being here but she must be staying elsewhere."

"Very well. We're done here now, then. I'll give the order to report back to the Manor."

I held my breath as I listened to footsteps hurrying away again, followed by silence.

And then the wardrobe door flung back open, and I found myself being pulled back out and into the arms of the boy I'd missed beyond measure.

"Blaire," he breathed, pressing his lips fervently into my hair as I sobbed against him; clinging my arms tightly around his back, not quite believing he was here and he was real.

"Drac," I gasped, feeling almost dizzy with relief at the familiarity of him; his scent, his touch, his voice.

Our hearts hammered loudly beneath our chests as we clung to one another, both of us pulling the other in as hard as we could.

"Listen to me, Blaire," he murmured ardently as I continued to sob; clutching my fingers into the fabric of his robes; holding onto him for dear life, "I need you to trust me. We need to get you out of here, okay?"

"B-Bernard-"

"Is dead," he said, his harsh tone causing me to flinch, "and so will you be if you don't come with me right now. Here, put this on."

He thrust a black cloak in my hands which he'd retrieved from beneath his own. And as I threw it on, I realised with a sickening swoop low in my stomach, that it was a Death Eater robe.

Without saying another word, Draco began to lead us down through the mansion, warning me to look away when we passed the body of my deceased stepfather.

But I didn't. How could I? I was fleeing the place where he'd just been murdered. The place where we'd lived together since he'd married my mother and had, in a way, been some sort of a parent figure to me.

I owed it to him to look at him one last time.

And as soon as I did, I wished I hadn't.

I froze as I took him in; he was still in his armchair, body slumped sideways as though he'd simply passed out after too much whiskey.

He would have looked almost normal to me if it wasn't for one thing. His eyes.

Eyes that were still open; hauntingly lifeless and glassy, seeing nothing but the blackness and emptiness of death.

A life extinguished.

Without thinking, I reached out a trembling hand and closed them with my fingers. Goodnight, Bernard.

And they did this for what?

My heart and soul felt numb as Draco grabbed my hand and pulled me away; pulled me from the family and home that never really was.

Nothing made sense to me anymore.

It would be a long time until anything ever did again.

******