Harry Potter: Glory Bows to Me

The cold wind cut through the night, and Amanta's footsteps were extremely light.

She hid in the night, following the familiar figure closely, her heart beating out of control due to anxiety.

Draco had been doing this for several nights in a row. At midnight, he returned to the common room, exuding an indescribable fatigue and despair.

Amanta could no longer sit idly by.

What is he hiding? What is he enduring?

She couldn't pretend not to see it any longer.

Without making a sound, she followed Draco across the soft, damp grass to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

The night engulfed this place. The withered shadows of the trees twisted in the wind, like snarling ghosts, wailing hoarsely.

Her fingertips were cold, she clenched the corner of her cloak, hid behind a crooked old oak tree, and held her breath.

Not far away, a tall man in a black robe stood among the dry grass, waiting quietly. The shadow under the cloak swallowed up most of his face, and only his sinister eyes were cold in the moonlight.

Although I could only see a pair of eyes, these eyes... seemed to have been seen somewhere before.

She quickly pulled out pictures from certain reports from her memory.

Antonin Dolokhov.

Amanta's heart suddenly tightened.

He is one of Voldemort's loyal subordinates. He is cold-blooded and cruel. He has killed countless Aurors single-handedly. He can be said to be one of Voldemort's most loyal and terrifying subordinates.

Why was he here? What was he forcing Draco to do?

"did you find it?"

Antonin's voice was eerie and low, like a poisonous snake crawling out of hell.

Draco stood in front of him, his back stiff, his hands clenched into fists, his blue-gray pupils hiding a forced indifference.

"I'm still looking."

His voice was low and he managed to maintain calmness.

Antonin scoffed, his eyes falling on Draco's left arm.

"Still looking?"

He drew out the last word, as if smiling but there was no smile in his eyes, only danger and threat.

He raised his wand sharply.

"Crucio."

A sharp pain tore through me instantly.

Draco's body trembled violently.

The next second, he was nailed to the ground, his body bent in an almost convulsive state, a painful groan suppressed in his throat, his nails dug into his palms, and cold sweat slid down his forehead.

Amanta's pupils suddenly shrank, she bit her lower lip tightly, and her hand subconsciously reached for the wand at her waist. Her sanity was on the verge of collapse.

"I'm still looking for..."

Draco's voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth. He was shaking with pain, but he still raised his head stubbornly.

Antonin's eyes turned cold, and he raised his wrist. The spell on the Dark Mark immediately burned like a scorching fire, as if a ball of fire was ignited under his skin.

Draco suddenly covered his arm, pinched the wound with his fingertips, and his body curled up uncontrollably, with cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

"If you don't hand over the Gaunt coat of arms, you will be tortured even more painfully next time."

Antonin whispered, a malicious arc on the corner of his lips.

"Merlin...and your mother...how long do you think they will be safe?"

Draco's breathing became completely disordered, and he grumbled a string of broken words viciously from his throat.

"If you dare to touch them, I will kill you."

His voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible, but it carried a heart-pounding cruelty, like a wild animal that had been pushed to its limit, making its last struggle before death.

Antonin looked at him and chuckled, seeming to disagree.

He put away his wand, turned around and disappeared into the night, leaving Draco still kneeling on the ground, gasping in pain, almost collapsed.

Amanta froze in place, barely able to breathe.

Draco's secrets, his silence, his recent coldness, all his hesitant answers...

It's not that he didn't want to tell her, but he simply didn't know how to start.

It was never that he was not firm enough, but that he was being tortured, forced and threatened.

His world was falling apart bit by bit, and she was unaware.

The Dark Mark is more than a brand - it is a shackle, a noose, and an abyss.

Its existence made Draco extremely painful, but he could not escape it.

Amanta clenched her teeth, her fingertips clenched white.

Her mind told her that she should calm down, weigh the pros and cons, and try to help Draco out first.

But she couldn't calm down at all.

She wanted to rush over, she wanted to grab him, she wanted to tell him - you are not alone.

But just as she was about to step out of the shadow where she was hiding, Draco suddenly punched the ground hard, his eyes filled with deep anger and pain. He was breathing softly, his eyes revealing an almost desperate struggle.

"damn it……"

He cursed under his breath, his voice very low as if he was afraid of being heard, but he couldn't control the emotions that were leaking out.

Amanta paused.

She suddenly realized - she couldn't let Draco know she had seen this.

If he found her present, he would subconsciously pretend to be indifferent, cover up everything with his proud disguise, and try his best to pretend that he was still in control.

He didn't want her to see his vulnerability, he didn't want her to know that he was in desperate situation.

She knew Draco's character. His pride was his shield but also his shackles.

He will not easily admit his helplessness, and he will not easily seek help.

But she couldn't let him bear it all alone anymore.

She took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and retreated quietly into the darkness.

Her fingers clenched the cloak tightly, and her heart was beating so hard that it seemed like it was going to burst through her chest.

She couldn't just stand there and watch, she had to do something—

But before that, she had to let Draco speak first.

The night wind blew her hair, the dark night silently enveloped her, and her eyes were colder and firmer than ever before.

She would not let Draco fall into the abyss alone.

--anyway.