Stumbling

24. Lumos

He crept along the dark corridor, a pale hand tracing along the cold, stone walls, his other one waving blindly around, as if to ward off the stifling blackness. Fear gripped his stomach as he inched closer and closer to the end of the dungeon, where Lucius had said he’d be waiting to take his only son to the Dark Lord.

“Ow!” he swore under his breath, hearing his wand clutter across the stone floor as he regained his balance.

So much for passing by unnoticed.

“Draco? Is that you?” a hoarse whisper penetrated the shadows, followed by the unmistakable swish of a cloak.

“Lumos!” the same voice muttered, and Draco shielded his eyes against his father’s glare. “What do you think you’re doing, barging along like that in the darkness?”

“Sorry, I tripped,” the Slytherin muttered as he picked up his wand.

“Well, you’d better keep your balance in the presence of the Dark Lord, you clumsy boy,” Lucius snarled, turning on his heel and striding off, clearly expecting Draco to follow him.

Sighing, Draco did.