"We will let you know soon," Bellatrix said, cutting off the conversation before Pettigrew could draw on Harry's emotions any further. She poked Harry. "Let's go."
They stepped out of the cell, and Bellatrix secured the door with both physical locks and complex locking spells. "Is Draco in your trunk as well?" she asked.
"He is," Harry declared, a little bit of a smirk suddenly developing on his face. He retrieved from his trunk the bottle in which a terrified ferret was imprisoned.
"Is Draco an animagus also?" Bellatrix asked, sounding confused as she accepted the bottle from Harry.
"No," Harry smirked.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes as she looked at Harry. "Human transfiguration is extremely dangerous."
Harry shrugged defensively. "I was careful. Besides, he would be no great loss to us."
"He happens to be my nephew," Bellatrix said.
"He's a Malfoy," Harry retorted.
"He is my key to getting leverage over my sister. Though with regard to him being a Malfoy, I suppose you are right," Bellatrix said. "But, I will make him a Black yet."
"That's tons better," Harry said with a small bit of sarcasm present in his voice.
"It is, Mr. Black." Bellatrix told Harry evenly. "I will show you where we will be keeping Draco. You can transfigure him back before you go home."
"Go home?" Harry asked, slightly confused.
"Clearly, you are exhausted," Bellatrix said, leading the way up the stairs. "Unfortunately, you only have the rest of the day to sleep. You will have some errands to run this evening."
"Why can't you take care of them?" Harry asked as they reached the main floor and headed up the staircase to the second level.
"Draco and Pettigrew will be keeping me occupied for the next while," Bellatrix replied.
.....
Draco gasped as he felt an enervate spell wash over him. He tensed his muscles as soon as he realized that he was no longer an animal nor in a glass jar. He looked up to find a black-haired beauty standing over the bed on which he was lying, peering down at him with wide and intense violet eyes.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Who do I look like?" the young woman asked, smirking vaguely.
"How should I know?" Draco shot back.
"A fair question," she admitted, smiling in a slightly predatory way. "I am your aunt."
"Aunt Andromeda?" Draco asked, eyeing her closely.
"Surely you can do better than that, dimwit." Bellatrix encouraged. "Andy does not look anything like me."
"Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco asked slowly, clearly in disbelief as he tried to remember whether he had ever seen a photograph or heard a physical description of his other aunt.
"Correct," Bellatrix said.
"But you're dead!" Draco exclaimed, pushing himself up and backing away from her until his back hit the bed's headboard. He looked around the room and was surprised to find that the bed was the only piece of furniture in a bare room.
"Dead?" Bellatrix asked. "Or missing?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Did your mother tell you that I was dead or that I was missing?" Bellatrix clarified.
"She said you were dead," Draco said, taking stock of her features and determining that she met the physical description of his Aunt Bellatrix save only for her apparent youth.
"You are positive she said I was dead?"
"Yes, my mother always said you were dead." Draco reiterated.
"Now, did she say I was dead or killed?" Bellatrix inquired, now looking extremely curious.
"What does it matter?" Draco demanded.
Bellatrix paused for a moment, arching her eyebrow as she apparently took some time to compose the answer. "To you, it matters little. But for me, I happen to be curious. Now tell me, was I described as dead or killed?"
"She might have said you had been killed, but I cannot remember," Draco said.
"Please try to be more exact."
"She alternated between saying that you were dead or killed. I think she just assumed that you were killed." Draco said, trying to elaborate on his answer.
"Fascinating," Bellatrix declared. "Well, with that behind us, let me explain some basics to you. Your dear, sweet mother has made it worth my while to look after you for a while."
"What do you mean?"
"It means that she got sick of you being involved in the war. For you, the war is now over. Until it ends for everyone else, you shall be living in this house and restrained to remaining in the general vicinity of the neighborhood."
"You cannot keep me here," Draco declared.
"Oh, I can," Bellatrix reassured him. "If you are particularly daring, you will soon discover that whenever you travel a certain distance away from this house, you begin to feel sick. The further you travel, the sicker you become. At a certain point, you will no longer be able to maintain consciousness because the pain will be so bad."
"And if I floo or apparate away from here?" Draco asked.
"Instant death," Bellatrix replied. "If I were you, I would resist any and all attempts that anybody might make to take you away from here. As well-intentioned as they might be, you will die if you leave the boundaries I have set around this house for you."
"What if I accidentally go too far?" Draco inquired, now trying to understand the extent of his imprisonment.
"If you are walking, you will lose consciousness before you pass the point where death occurs. However, keep in mind that a well-meaning Muggle might take you to a hospital outside of the allowed radius." Bellatrix said, smiling and tilting her head a bit. "Then you would die en route to the hospital."
"My father will have your hide for this," Draco declared.