Redemption.

"Don't die on me."

Draco's POV.

Draco was cold. The tips of his fingers were frozen. Where was he?
There were wooden boards at the windows that filtered the rays of moonlight over the room. It was dark, and cold, and Draco could here the whistling sound of the wind as it blew.
He could feel pain throbbing through his skull as he tried and moved his head, propping himself up from the floor. He tried and reached for his wand, but he couldn't find it anywhere. He felt the cold hardwood floor around him for it, but it was nowhere to be found. What had happened?
A shrill cry startled him. It seemed to echo around him, and he guessed the place he was in was big, and most probably empty as his every move echoed through the room.
Where was Stiorra? Another piercing cry echoed around him, and it seemed it came from everywhere. Draco was shivering, and something in his guts told him it was Stiorra. Until he heard her beg.
She screamed again. It sent a lingering shiver down his spine, and got him on his feet.
He breathed in, and disapparated. He wanted to find her. He needed to find her. His stomach twisted, got pulled and dragged, and suddenly his feet touched a hard ground as he apparated.
The place was still quiet dark and the boy was unsure about what he was standing on. A wooden aboard over a deep hole? A winding ground in the basement of an abandoned house?

"-I felt like we needed to meet again," a voice belonging to a man said.

"Why-"

"Quiet!"

A piercing scream resonated throughout the whole place. Draco could have sworn the shivers engulfing his body were shaking him.
A light flicker far before him as the scream grew even louder. Draco gulped down and started down what seemed to be a hallway. He stumbled upon some rocks, and picked one up. If he didn't have his wand, at least he'd have something.

"Oi!" Draco shouted as he stepped into the room the light had flickered from.

But only Stiorra stood there. She was out of breath, apparently in pain, and the one fear Draco had over the past 24 hours had become a reality. She lifted her chin up and looked at him.
He only saw a broken shell with teary and glowing eyes under the light of a candle that stood on a countertop nearby. Her jumper had been torn apart and he could see her pale skin and a piece of the red scar that stood on her chest.
Draco ran down towards her and untied her wrists and ankles from the chair. She fell over. The Slytherin boy caught her before she hit the hardwood ground, pushing a lock of hair out of her pale face.

"What happened? Where are we?" he asked her.

She cried. And cried. He stood there helplessly, peering over his shoulder, on the lookout for whoever the man was.

"Ho-home," Stiorra cried, "my-my bro-brother-"

A loud bang bursted into the room and Draco flinched as a man stood before him with a maddening grin. He was wearing a long coat, and his entire outfit looked rather clean for someone who clung to a dusty place like the one they were in.

"Look who's here," the man said, "the boyfriend."

Something in his face looked familiar to Draco, and he couldn't tell what it was what with the poor light there was.
As though he had heard his thoughts, the man flickered his wand, and a feeble slivery light shot out from the top of the wand.

"You!" Draco shouted.

"The brother. Conall Roper."

"I've seen you before!"

And it was true. Over so many times did Draco see this man at the Malfoy Manor, enjoying a fire whiskey or two with his father. He never knew who he was, and now he could finally put a name of that dreading face.