This chapter contains violent actions. Please read with caution.

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'' I love you, and I will find you.''

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Draco Malfoy.

'' We haven't—'' The man standing in front of him uttered, '' We don't know where he's—''

Draco's wand dug deeper into the Death Earthers neck, and he sighed loudly, '' I know you do.'' He said, '' I know you know where he's keeping her. You're one of his most trusted.''

The man let out a chuckle, looking around slightly in the abandoned safe house before he peered back up at Draco, blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth, and his teeth stained in the red color.

'' Once—'' The Death Eater coughed, ''So were you.''

Draco grinned, licking his bottom lip as his grip on him tensed, '' Kneel,'' The blond demanded and overpowered as the man seemed to be — he had no other choice than to fall to his knees in front of Malfoy.

'' The Dark Lord took something from me, and I tend to get her back, so either you tell me what you know—'' Draco's face twisted, evilly as he gestured to the fallen Death Eaters around them, '' Or I'll kill you, and you can join your friends in hell.''

The man swallowed, with Malfoy's wand, still forcefully pushed into his neck, and he whimpered by the sense of it, '' I'll tell you nothing. He will kill me if I do.''

Draco nodded slowly before his head tilted, showing him compassion for a mere second, '' It's a shame, isn't it?'' He mumbled as his wand dragged over the man's cheek, lifting his chin with the tip of it.

'' Malfoy—''

'' Avada Kedavra!''

Draco's jaws gritted, and the man's deceased body dropped to the infinite ground.

He had slaughtered yet another hiding, filled with Voldemort's loyal servants, and he would continue doing so until someone gave her up — until she was returned to him.

He stepped over the lifeless bodies before he marched out of the house and closed the door behind him. He never looked back. He couldn't.

Draco wasn't able to do so without trapping himself into an endless chain of guilt. He was a murderer and a ruthless one at that, but there wasn't a thing he wouldn't do to get her back, to find her.

He apparated himself home, back to his manor, and into the guestroom he'd been staying in since the day she was taken from him. He couldn't sleep or even be in his own room anymore. He couldn't bear to watch her clothes in his closet again or the oversized slippers on her side of the bed.

Her pillow and how her messy morning hair spilled all over the soft fabric caused his heart to ache out of despair every time his mind reached that image.

His head shook as he strode up to the wall, and he halted right in front of it. Draco's gaze flickered all over the pieces of papers coating the wood as he reached for the tiny pin, and he dragged the sheet off.

He picked yet another paper of information off of his map. He had been tracking everyone and everything as thoroughly as he possibly could. He didn't miss a safe house. He didn't fail to notice one single human being serving the Dark Lord.

He found everyone and everything — but her.

He had even explored Adrian's house at a time where he knew them not to be there. He looked through every room, every space in that house he could find.

Draco had been searching for what felt like months, looking behind every corner, going through every house, every city — and it drained him to a level that he almost believed Theodore to be correct.

Perhaps he was losing it — maybe he lost track of himself, but he couldn't think of any reason, better than this one, to do so.

Amelie was worth it all to him, even if he wouldn't be the same when she came back. She still would be home, safe from everything Adrian most likely put her through as she was away.

Draco couldn't think about it without breaking. He couldn't cross the thought of her being harmed again, of Adrian using his vile hands to violate her — how much she must be hurting, and he couldn't do a thing.

He was helpless, and so was she.

He tore the sheet of paper off the wall before he threw it in the trashcan next to it, but it was packed — and pieces of scrunched-up paper spilled messily around it.

Narcissa had been begging him to let her clean it for days, but he refused. He didn't want anyone but himself in that room. It was his closure to her — it was his way of finding her, and he couldn't share this with anyone, but Theodore.

Draco paced around, back and forth with his fingers constantly scratching his jaw, thinking about what to do next, and he shot the clock, hanging on the wall a swift look, and it was time.

Every hour, it was time for him to do, what he'd been doing every hour, of every day — for the past few months, no matter if it was in the middle of the night or when he was out on one of his many missions — he always made sure to do this.

It was one of the only things keeping Draco together.

He gripped the diary off the table, and he slipped down to the floor, next to the door with his knees hugged to his chest.

Even if he got it from her, simply a few months ago — it was already worn, the edges of it had been scratched, and the pages held crinkly of his dried-up tears.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Draco wrote it, over and over — so many times that his fingers began to shake and his hand burnt, but he wouldn't stop.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Over and over. He filled every page with it.

I love you.

I love you.

His mouth went bone dry.

I love you.

I love you.

He needed her to know that. He needed her to understand it, that he loves her, even if he couldn't be sure that she saw his messages — he hoped that she did.

I will find you.

I love you, and I will find you.

I promise.

His throat began to hurt, and the lump in the back of it couldn't hold back the sobs he felt coming.

You are mine.

You are mine.

You are mine.

A clear, stinging tear rolled down his cheek, and he felt — in a truly strange way, more pain as he kept on writing.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was her. If it was Amelie's torment that ripped through him.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

He didn't know how to breathe anymore, and he had to look up from the pages to give himself a break, but merely a second later — he stared right down onto it again.

I love you, Amelie.

My Amelie.

I love you, and I will find you.

Mine.

I'm yours, and you are mine.

I promise.

Draco slammed the book shut, holding it wrapped to his chest for moments as he thought about her.

It hurt. It was torture thinking about Amelie and what the monster holding her was doing to her when Draco himself could do nothing.

He remained there for what felt like hours before he forced himself off the floor, and he placed the diary where he always kept it. Right in front of him, so that he could — if she ever saw what he wrote, or if she one day was able to answer him — see it.

'' Mate,'' Theodore knocked on the door before taking a step inside, '' Are you alright?''

'' What kind of question is that?'' Draco turned so that his back was facing him, wiping his tear-stained cheeks with the end of his sleeves, '' Of course I'm not.''

'' I'm sorry—''

'' Can you just—'' Draco sighed, trying not to be angrier with the boy standing in the doorway, '' Can you just leave. I don't need your pity.''

Theodore rose a brow and he closed the door behind him, and he felt a wave of doubt as it scored his senses. He was more than familiar with Draco being rude to him at this point. Theo understood that this was Draco's way of dealing with his pain.

'' Did they tell you anything?'' Theo sought to ease the hostile tension, '' When you went to the safe house, I mean—''

'' No,'' Draco stated shortly. He slipped down onto a chair before placing both of his elbows upon the table, '' No one told me anything.''

Theodore nodded, and he slowly strode up to the desk, hunching down onto a chair next to Draco's again. His hand settled on Draco's shoulder before he quickly dragged away.

He didn't want to push Draco again, not after the fight they had.

Both Malfoy and Nott forgave each other promptly after they had hurt each other so badly, mostly because of Amelie, and they needed to work together to find her — but also because the two had been growing closer. A friendship like theirs wasn't something to be thrown away.

Despite all the calmness in their friendship at the time, something was nagging Theo and the utter fact that Draco refused to let him speak, what Amelie had asked of him, caused him to feel sick with himself.

She wished for Theodore to tell Draco that she loved him, but every time he came close to doing so — every single time, his lips parted to tell the blond,

Draco shut him out completely, almost as if he could feel what the brunet was about to say.

And he did. Draco could feel it, that Theodore wanted to reveal something that she'd told him, but he didn't want to hear it from Theo.

He wanted to hear it from her.

It was supposed to be her, telling him those words for the first time, not her best friend.

'' Draco—'' Theodore hesitated, and his fingers grasped at some of the sheets of paper, coating the table, '' I think we should talk about that thing.''

'' Stop it,'' The blond hissed, frowning at Theo, '' I told you. I don't want to hear it, now help me figure out what this bloody book means, before I—''

Theodore silently groaned, '' That book?''

'' Yes that book. Mother brought back this book after she dropped of Hermione at the burrows, and I can't figure it out. She lied and said that someone left it for her, even if we both know it was my father, but I don't—''

Draco hushed, and his hands slammed against the table, '' I can't figure it out, Nott. I can't—'' He was infuriated again, with himself.

He had never hated, loathed, despised someone as much as he did with himself.

He felt as if he'd failed her, and all of this was his fault.

'' Perhaps if we—'' Theodore reached for the book, his fingers trailed over the dark coated cover, '' Invisible spells...''

'' I know what the name of that bloody book is, Theodore.'' He seethed, and his back leaned against the backrest of the chair, his legs long in front of him, '' I just don't know what it means.''

'' Then let's figure it out, shall we?'' Theo forced a smile, '' Your father gave this to your mother, that's what we know, right?''

Draco nodded.

'' Right, so, didn't one of those Death Eaters you killed—''

'' Punished.'' Draco corrected him to his own satisfaction. He loathed to be termed a murderer, when if he was aware of being one.

'' Yeah, punished,'' Theodore mumbled, '' But didn't they tell you that the Dark Lord is tired of your massacre? That if you don't stop this madness soon, he'll come for you, no matter how important you are to him?''

His lips pushed together into a firm line, and he nodded again, '' He did.''

'' Right, so what if...'' Theodore was playing around with the thought.

'' No, that's not possible, my father wouldn't take a stand against Voldemort, and especially not with Amelie—'' It burnt in Draco's chest to speak her name, '' He wouldn't betray the Dark Lord like that.''

'' No, you're right,'' Theo's fingers flipped through the pages, and it turned silent for a minute, '' Unless...'' I clocked him, and his spine arched off the chair,

'' Unless your father found out.''

'' Found out what?'' Draco snapped, his brows dragged together as he followed Theodore's act, '' Found out about what the Dark Lord said.'' He realized on his own.

'' Yes, and that's why he gave you the book through your mother in secret so that Voldemort wouldn't find out—''

'' He wants me to find her,'' Draco snatched the book out of his hands, '' He wants me to find her so that the dark lord doesn't kill me...''

He started going through the pages, one by one — searching for a clue, for something that would tell him where she might be — something he'd overlooked the last time, but nothing.

No note, no spare words, nothing.

They went through the whole book, word by word, for hours, and that was — the first time in weeks that Draco's mind clouded by something else than the diary. Sheets of paper had been pushed over it, and he couldn't see the bounded book anymore.

'' There's nothing.'' Draco muttered, flinging the book across the table, '' There's nothing but empty pages.''

'' I'm sure that it's—''

'' Fuck,'' Draco cursed to himself before his hands grasped everything that covered his diary away, and he held it tightly in his hands.

He turned quiet. His face fell into a heartbreaking look. He felt evilness as it radiated off the book, but not in the way he used to feel it.

Draco was familiar with the heartbreak the diary brought. He could almost feel Amelie's heart breaking as he believed that she read what he was writing, but this — this was something else.

His eyes sealed, and he tried to focus on that particular feeling. It was breathtaking. Whoever that had placed their hands on that diary — was dangerous. He could feel the fright of someone close to them,

And then — it stung. It was as if he could feel her.

He felt Amelie.

His head shot up as he stared down at the pages, and a vague '' P '' had appeared on the cover of it.

'' Still nothing?'' Theo mumbled, disappointingly without noticing the frightened boy next to him, '' Well, I'm sure—''

'' The Puceys.''

'' What?'' Theodore frowned, '' What do you mean?''

Draco looked up. His eyes flashed in torture.

'' The Puceys.'' He said again, harsher this time, '' That's why my father gave me that book,'' Draco rose from the chair, forcefully, but just as he was about to stand up — he gripped a pen, folding the diary open,

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I am coming for you.

I am coming for you, Amelie.

He slowly shoved his seat back and the corner of his eyes shredded in tears.

He needed her to know that he's coming for her. He craved for her to know that he will find her. That she will be safe.

She would always be safe with him.

I love you.

I love you, and I am coming for you.

I promise.

Don't move.

'' She was there all along, just hidden—'' Draco began to storm out, leaving the diary behind, but Theodore wrapped his hand around his upper arm and dragged Malfoy back.

'' Are we sure about this?'' Theo said, lowly, hesitantly, '' What if it's a trap? It seems a bit too easy, doesn't it?''

'' I don't care.'' Draco's jaws clenched and unclenched, '' I don't care if it's a trap, but I'll be dammed if I don't do everything I can, Nott.''

Draco could feel the hard piece of metal in the pocket of his jacket.

The knife Adrian had used to kill Pansy and her unborn child with, rested right here, and had done so ever since he found it.

He wanted to hurt Adrian with the same knife he'd taken his friend and the baby in her stomach, away from them.

'' I don't know, Draco—''

'' What if it's her?'' Malfoy yelled, shoving the brunet back, '' Yeah? What if it's her? What if the person who wrote that actually is her?''

'' I—'' Theo quieted, his sight grounded, '' You're right, I'll just—''

'' No,'' Draco's hand tensed around his wand, and he shot Theodore a severe look, '' You need to tell my mother where we are going. She needs to know, in case something goes wrong.''

Theodore hastily nodded, '' I'll let her know, and I'll join you as soon as I can, and Draco—''

They looked at each other, both in the utter fusion of agony and hope — somewhere in between — somewhere grey — somewhere neither of them knew what to make of it.

'' I know.'' The blond swallowed, raising his wand. His eyes dragged off Theodore in a heartbeat, '' You too.''

The brunet stood, scared to death in front of him, watching as he mumbled the words before he stormed out to do what Malfoy had asked of him.

'' Apparate.''

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