Bride of the HP Dragon

When Draco opened his eyes, Blaise was leaning against the wall with his legs bent.Like Drake, he was dressed in black, black school trousers slightly dirty at the knees, and a lightweight hooded sweatshirt.

He was smoking, his angular face was slightly joyful, and there was the sound of water flowing in the distance. Draco listened carefully to the rhythm, and finally woke up from his coma.

He swallowed his throat and licked his dry lips: "Hi."

Blaise took a deep breath on his cigarette and seemed to be eyeing Draco carefully before answering: "Hi."

"How long have I been in a coma?"

"Three hours."

After the great pain in his left shoulder slowly subsided, Draco realized that the tiny pain in his arms and legs was from him hanging from the wall by chains.

There were no windows, the air was damp and foul, and he could only guess that he was in a dungeon, which was quickly confirmed.

He has shackles around his wrists and ankles, and a pulley on his right side that controls the chain.There are weights attached to the gears, and the lever may be used to control the tension of the chain.

The level of pain Draco was currently suffering from being suspended was the lowest setting on the lever.If Blaise cranked it up to the max, Draco realized with a strange calm that his limbs would be lost.

Yes, this is the dungeon.

And if things weren't bad enough, a six-inch wooden spur stuck in his right thigh caused excruciating pain.There was a deep and long wound on his forehead, and thick blood slipped from his eyes and spread all over the left half of his face.

The stairs, Draco recalled with a groan, were rotten.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Blaise said.

"That's just like you, the recruiter who pissed off the Ministry of Magic."

"Yeah." Blaise looked happy, and he threw away the cigarette butt and kicked it away.

Draco couldn't help tensing up as Blaise walked towards the lever.Thankfully, the most horrific murder of the moment was clearly not on Blaise's mind as he flicked the rusty grip and let go of the lever.

Draco's feet were not ready for the sudden use, and he slid limply against the wall, nearly ten feet of loose chain falling from either side of him onto the stone floor.The blood in the joints is recirculated, which is excruciating.Blaise came and crouched beside him, and roughly pulled the splinter out of Draco's thigh.

The searing pain blinded his eyes, but Draco gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on Blaise.

Tick, tick, tick.There was a constant sound of water in the distance, and he listened intently to the sound.

"I guess Pansy told you?" Blaise said nonchalantly. "That stupid bitch can never keep a secret. It doesn't look like death threatens her."

"Zabini, you dare not touch her." Draco's face twitched.

Blaise smiled, his white teeth looking like mace yellow in the dim light: "I don't think Pansy is worth worrying about taking risks for you, although I do sympathize with you, we are good friends after all."

"You're not my friend, you bastard, and if Voldemort's interested in you, his standards are going to drop."

"You think so?" Blaise asked, only he wasn't Blaise, he was Potter.Then, he became Hermione again.Draco's heart seemed to be beating wildly, and when he saw her, he had an unexpected emotional outburst, and he couldn't help saying: "You are... you are a shapeshifter!"

Blaise, now Blaise again, grinned: "Cool, huh?"

"Why? Why do these things?"

The smile faded: "Draco, you're smart. There's no point in asking 'why', is there?"

Draco laughed at him, and he tried to look nonchalant, but he knew he was dealing with a serial murderer.If he had been unconscious for three hours, Pansy must have been questioned about his disappearance not long ago.

"The usual reasons, then? Strength, power, wealth, women?"

"Actually, because I'm bored," Blaise shrugged, stood up and started pacing. "My damn mind is so boring. You know, looking at a man like Dumbledore, with all the power and wisdom in his hands, see How frustrating is it to see him squandering these resources for unrealistic ideals? I would go after these powers, but the man doesn't know what we want. We, we, are wizards! We need leaders, we need long-term plan."

Draco regained feeling in his extremities and moved them a little, and he carefully looped the chain behind him. If he wanted to get close enough to Blaise to knock him out, he needed a wand.

"And you consider yourself the one who makes the plans, don't you?"

"Yes," Blaise nodded, "Voldemort is sometimes very clever, and I think your father would agree. There is no good or bad, black or white in this world, only life and power that we can choose. I think wizard society is because of Too many restrictions are suffering."

Draco didn't have to feign disbelief: "Oh, I agree with that too. But your 'editor' is in trouble, Voldemort isn't getting enough money for those newspaper columns."

Blaise smirked, he'd always loved Draco's quick wit: "I noticed, but he's got his way. The younger generation of Death Eaters don't remember what it's like to be afraid of him, and his power is Weakened. We honestly only have half the chance of getting away with murder charges, you know what I mean."

"How did you find him? What ad did you put in the Daily Prophet? High-spirited sociopath seeking the equally temperamental Dark Lord as an evil mentor?"

"I didn't find him, he found me. His people found me, I should say. I started asking these questions in fifth grade, spending the summer in places you wouldn't go without magical protection. The recruiting is wishful thinking, the Death Eaters are dying, getting older, fatter, slower... of course, that's a plus." Blaise changed his face and became Severus Snape.

"I didn't know our disloyal dean had such useful connections. Six months ago, I met a nasty little man named Peter Pedilou. The rest, as they say Yes, just history. I'm having fun, Draco," Blaise added, as if he, too, was surprised by the fact.

"Fun!" Draco taunted him. "Zabini, you're crazy if you think you can beat Voldemort."

"Why? I'm his trusted recruiter," Blaise said. "It's a dangerous mission, but it's not suicidal. You think I'm too young? Potter is our age, and the world needs him." The ultimate battle with a wizard five times stronger than him. The Dark Lord was four years younger than you and me when he planted the beautiful pine tree that brought you here. He opened the Chamber of Secrets when he was our age .Age is not a problem, ability is everything, Malfoy, this is the quality that the Dark Lord appreciates." He tilted his head and looked at Draco regretfully: "You always have a lot of personality, and you have a lot of family connections. My friend, but you never had ambitions, what a poor Slytherin you are."

"If I lack ambition, then you lack common sense," Draco said excitedly. "You're the one who set the Dark Mark in Hogsmeade, aren't you?"

Blaise didn't seem keen to discuss it: "I was there that afternoon, wasn't I? Potter walked around collecting giant algae, and he always acted like a hero, and there was always a silent rivalry with him. Let me tell you, Draco, there's nothing more pathetic than being born a hero. Their egos are so inflated and their imaginations so small."

"We agree on that." Draco muttered.

"Go into the woods and inform those who care, it's simple, Voldemort hasn't forgotten them." Blaise's face contorted into a not-so-good sneer, the first time Draco could call him ugly.

"The wand is spellbound, the mark is tainted..." , the Dark Mark becomes the Malfoy family crest.)

Draco's laugh was both heartfelt and bitter: "Oh, by old Malfoy's standards! It's an honor to know that I didn't know anything about that great moment of yours, my father would laugh if he heard that Can't breathe."

Blaise wanted a loyal audience, not someone who would make fun of him, and Draco had teased him so many times on purpose.He stepped forward, grabbed Draco's shirtfront, and held his wand to Draco's throat.

Draco grunted, glad that Blaise had to struggle to hold on to his larger body.

"Remember your debt to me," Draco whispered triumphantly, "I could let the Slytherin relic take your life, I could have your father just stand by and watch you die .”

Blaise's face was inches away, and he looked at Draco in disgust. "Oh, I remember."

Draco thought, just now, when Draco was about to throw the chain, Blaise left so fast, damn it!

Reluctantly, Draco let go of the chain that was meant to aim at Blaise's head.

"It was the note you gave Dodds, right? Designing me to race Bludgers? Why? What does it have to do with him?"

Brace blinked, as if the subject had nothing to do with Voldemort at all: "Dodds is a means to an end, I just need to prove something."

"What?" Draco asked sharply. "Prove that the boy would die before he could run ten yards? Prove that he was wearing printed pajamas?"

"You'll understand, be patient."

"Don't go around in circles, you crazy. Where's my cousin? That Oro and her partner, where are they?"

"Forget about your cousin!" Blaise gritted his teeth. "If you ask me for my opinion, don't put too much emphasis on family relationships. Voldemort will tell you the same."

Draco's blood was freezing: "What are you talking about?" He was very careful, because Blaise looked on the verge of madness, and whatever he had to say would be sad.

"I'm talking about your mother, Draco. My first mission was a week after I received the Dark Mark, and I went to her to turn her back. You know, she's always in the Death Eaters She knows too much, the Ministry would be foolish to ignore her, and my master is not such a careless fellow."

Draco shook his head, as if denying this would ease the horror he was going through, and he looked at Blaise with a glimmer of hope.

For those used to Draco's trademark indifference and deadpan expression, Draco's transformation at this time was shocking.Blaise resented the boy, but wasn't entirely indifferent to the unfaltering emotion on Draco's face.

"Oh Blaise, what did you do..."

"I have to do this!" Blaise yelled in a broken voice: "Do you think I want to? She is not the one who betrayed us, the traitor is your father! But she resisted..."

"Does Bellatrix Lestrange know what you did to her sister?" Draco spat, his voice shaking, but he was powerless to stop it.

Blaise didn't answer, but his previous grief was replaced by an eerie confidence that Draco surmised was making more sense in his head about why Narcissa had been killed.

That's fine, doubt is a good thing.

"She doesn't know, does she? Answer me!"

"Bellatrix is ​​the one who gave the order. If Narcissa refuses to cooperate, she will be finished." Blaise replied calmly.

It's not what he wants to hear.

Draco closed his eyes, he was still asleep, he must be.Maybe he was still at the Round Rock, with Hermione in his arms.It's a nightmare, but he'll wake up soon.He would hold her, and she would love him, and Hermione would love him.Really, really love him, no matter who he is, no matter how badly he treats her.

He doesn't have to pretend that he doesn't have her in his heart anymore, even if he silently denies it, he can realize the truth when she hugs him.Not only because this girl was the most reputable and upright person he had ever known, but because he could feel it for himself.

FidaMia is a huge and wide vortex between the two, it is the maintenance that conveys every amazing and wonderful feeling she has for him.

But he can't feel anything now.

All of a sudden, all he could remember was the remnants of a dream he shouldn't have remembered, but he knew he had had it, and his anxiety about Hermione's magic seemed to have heightened lately.

What should he know?

First and foremost he has to escape, he has to do it.

Draco refocused, holding himself in like a cloak.He's good at it, his voice stays calm even though deep down he wants to shout it over and over until his throat becomes hoarse.

"Zabini."

Draco looked at the friend who used to play Wizard Chess until dawn in second grade, at the friend he had saved as a child.He didn't see the boy who asked him to keep his secret after waking up with St. Mungo's.

What he saw now was a monster, the result of too much going wrong in their world.

"Look at me, Blaise."

Blaise, seemingly caught up in his own dark memory, looked up at Draco.

"You can finish these things," Draco nodded, not pleading, but he did his best. "How many people will have to die before you see what you've done?"

Blaise teased, "It's not enough that I doubt myself, I know what you're up to, Malfoy. We're so alike."

"You don't know what you're doing."

"I know," Blaise said softly. "What do the stupid Muggles say? How can there be a tiger if you don't go into the tiger's den?"

Draco couldn't hide his surprise: "You killed my mother." He said every word as if he wanted to carve them into Blaise's flesh and blood.

"I know," Blaise said sadly, "I'm sorry, but you're going to be sad before you accept it. Tell me, Draco, what is your most precious thing in this world?"

Draco opened his mouth to say a clever answer, but there was only a cry of pain when he opened his mouth.He curled up and clutched his chest as if his guts had been pierced.

At this moment he understood, the unknowable fear seemed to freeze the blood in his heart, and it took him several seconds to recover.

"Where is she?" Draco hissed like a wounded animal, his breath uneven, looking at Blaise with a look of blatant savage anger.

"Here, with me."

"If you hand her over to Voldemort, Zabini, I swear I'll tear you to pieces with my own hands no matter which goddamn god you pray to..."

Blaise sneered, watching Draco lose control made him regain control of his emotions: "Which army are you with?"

Draco snarled and flung the chain, coming within an inch of Blaise, close enough to blow the other boy's hair with his breath, but in Blaise's eyes, it was a calculable distance.

"Tell me what you want, you crazy bastard!"

In response, Brace walked over to the wooden lever and slowly pushed it into mid-range, the dull creak of the long-disused mechanism.

The result was Draco being roughly yanked back against the wall, limbs splayed.The veins in the back of his head were throbbing, and his right eye was blurred, and he looked at Blaise in surprise and anger.

"Why, what are you willing to give me, Malfoy?" Blaise asked calmly.

"Anything," Draco gasped, "you need money, don't you? As long as I have it, it's yours. You want fame, secrets, Ministry of Magic secrets to blackmail, I can tell You..." He knew he was snarling, but he couldn't stop the sentences from popping out: "You want to recruit me, so come on. Voldemort wants me, right? Tell him to give me the Dark Mark and let her go." .”

Blaise snorted coldly: "We've caught you."

Draco shook his head: "You don't, what you want is obedience, I can promise you. If you treat me like this, then the only way your shit Dark Lord can make me cooperate is to force."

Blaise seemed to be considering this last suggestion, and Draco felt a spark of hope within him: "Anything in the world I can give you is yours," he added hoarsely.

"In exchange for her? You knew who she was when you swore to hate Muggleborns?"

"Yes." Draco whispered emphatically, he couldn't think about Hermione, he couldn't, thinking about it would make him completely lose control.She was safe, Blaise was interested in her, Draco understood now.If for no other reason, perhaps this would keep her safe at the moment.

"anything?"

"Anything I have can be exchanged," Draco repeated in a trembling voice.

"Great." Blaise clapped his hands, looking extremely happy, as if it was the wonderful scene he was expecting.

He walked over to Draco's tense, stretched body and leaned in to whisper in his ear, his black and blond hair intertwined.

"I'm going to be you," he said in the way a child would walk downstairs in rapturous awe toward a pile of unopened Christmas presents: "Do you think you can do it?"

Draco looked back at him for a long time, his eyes hard, and he knew for no reason that there was no room for bargaining with Blaise.

"It's all your fault she's here, you know. Swallow yourselves, Malfoy. I admit my interest in our charming Head Girl is more than just a whim, but your interest in her sealed her fate. Oh Yeah, I know all about your dirty little adventures at FidaMia."

After saying this, Blaise reached into his pocket and took out a small wooden box.

He opened it in front of Draco, and inside was a bloody mass, a pair of eyes.

One green and one basket, they were the eyes of Arne Hendrix, and they seemed frozen to the last moment of terror.

"And I think you Malfoys will never be united by love..."

Draco was crazy.

He struggled, kicked, and roared.The three-foot-long chain with its rusty hoop caught him every time he was halfway toward Brace.The shackles dug into his wrists, and blood ran from his hands, dripping down his fingers.

"Cruciatus." Blaise said almost regretfully.

Hermione is free.

One minute she was still struggling with the Imperius Curse, and the next minute a sharp dull pain made her dizzy, and she realized it was the Cruciatus Curse.

She was familiar with the pain, it had haunted her since fifth grade.Even if she has forgotten all about herself, the memory of the body is another matter.Although the pain lasted only a few seconds, her muscles and nerves remembered it. (Translator's Note: Bella used the Cruciatus Curse to torture Hermione's sword in Malfoy Manor. This was a matter of seventh grade. Maybe the author remembered it wrong?)

She was initially discouraged when she found that she still couldn't escape Blaise's Imperius Curse, wondering if it was her lack of exercise or Blaise's higher level of magic.

He's used the spell before, must have been.

The spell was powerful, and she had seen Harry struggle with it, and knew how expensive it had cost him to fight it.If it was her, she couldn't do that. (Translator's Note: The fourth fake Moody in the original book used Harry to experiment with the Imperius Curse when teaching the three unforgivable spells. This plot was adapted in the movie.)

In the quick journey from Hogwarts to where she is now, the best she can do when she lacks free will is to focus.

The first thought that popped into her head was that Blaise had imprisoned her so that Harry would be drawn into the war, and the realization made her want to cry.

Second, Brace did not follow Voldemort's instructions in the letter.Whatever orders he had given obviously did not include taking her away from Hogwarts under Dumbledore's nose.

She knew it was because Blaise had stalked her to the Death Eaters' hidden stronghold, and he obviously knew the layout of the place well, and several times they'd waited behind a wall or sprinted down a hallway to avoid detection.

To her surprise, he hides her in his room, like a guilty child who manages to keep his new pet from his parents.

This was not a good sign, and perhaps a more dangerous situation, since Blaise's limited abilities weren't enough to protect her from greater harm.

That was another thing, he didn't pet her any more, which she guessed was a small relief, because Blaise thought it was better to be a beast in clothes than to rape and rob like a common follower of Voldemort.Blaise had told her many times.

His ego was unbelievable, but he did something else that gave her the creeps.On the way from Hogwarts to the stronghold, he talked about the future; a new order, a new government and the establishment of their respective institutions in this still-undeveloped society.

He's pretty sure she won't hate him forever.He said that after the necessary bloody revolution, the logic of the revolution would finally unfold before her eyes, and their genius would flourish where it fit.

Hermione thought that the right place for Blaise would be St. Mungo's psychiatric recovery ward, which was on the top floor of the hospital.At this time the door knocked, and he asked her to stand against the wall beside the door, and then changed from panting and excited to calm and calm, and then opened the door.

Outside the door was a man named "Travers".

The man said they were in trouble, that Draco Malfoy was here, and they had him.Hermione stood calmly, not even a flicker of expression on her face.But deep down, she had hit the floor.

Harry was right that in war love was a dangerous and tortured thing.

She almost laughed, thinking that Draco must prefer the word "suffering".He didn't want her love, he'd told her she didn't.

But he needs her help now.

He came to find her?The school already knew she was missing?Impossible, things happened too fast for it to spread quickly.

Blaise left her standing while he inspected his other prize.His expression before he left was full of affection and love, he was a crazy man who was delusional, and Hermione wanted to scratch his face.

She just stood against the wall for what seemed like hours, her heart pounding.She couldn't scream or cry, she couldn't even move a muscle with willpower.

Then, thanks to the kindness of Draco and FidaMia, she felt the Cruciatus Curse indirectly.Draco was in this house and was being hurt.One Unforgivable Curse counteracted another, and Blaise's Imperius Curse was like a thick puff of smoke that dissolved after facing Hermione and reconnecting with Draco.

After the spell's effect lifted, Hermione took a few minutes to calm down and think clearly.All she could do now seemed to be clasping her hands and pacing up and down.

She only gave herself the luxury of a few minutes to fear, and then poked around Blaise's room looking for a weapon, but to no avail, Blaise's quarters in the stronghold were packed like a Spartan.

The room had a bed, a half empty suitcase and nothing else.Where the hell are sharp weapons when you need them!At last she found a brand-new quill under the trunk, and nearly fainted with ecstasy.

Hermione hid the thing behind the waistband of her skirt, then went to the door and tried the handle, and Blaise locked the door without incident.

With no time to rethink the plan, what choice did she have?Draco was being tortured nearby, and she had to do something.

Also, she has to stand up to possible death, which is another thing for a woman, to stand up to possible death.Worse things could have happened than Blaise Zabini wandering back into the dark corridor outside the door.

In the end it didn't matter, and Hermione slammed on the door and started yelling.

It wasn't Travers this time, it was Pediru who unlocked and pushed the door open, almost falling down in surprise when he saw her.He stood there with his mouth open, more menacing than the last time she had seen him.

"It's you!" Pedillo was so surprised that Hermione realized that she was going to put all her eggs in one basket.

"I know you're in trouble, Wormtail," said Hermione.

It didn't take him long to figure it out: "Zabini! The little idiot!"

"You didn't know he planned this, did you?" Hermione tried to stir his anger at Zabini.

Pedilu looked at Hermione with new thoughts: "My master wants a Malfoy boy. You, are an additional bargaining chip."

"Maybe," Hermione agreed, "but he took me out of Hogwarts." She told Pedilou: "Just from Dumbledore and Harry Potter, how do you think things will go?"

Pediru was speechless, and she was pleased to see that he looked a little agitated.

"If your master wants Malfoy alive, I suggest you go and see Zabini. He's killing Draco right now, and if you don't believe me, go find these two."

"What's wrong?" Travers was standing next to Wormtail, his wand pointed at Hermione's chest.There was suspicion on her face, but just as she looked at him, his expression turned into a malicious look when he noticed her disheveled school uniform and loose hair. She wondered if Travers recognized him. Know yourself.

"What the hell is this doing?"

"Look at her," Wormtail gritted his teeth, "I'll go see Malfoy."

"It's better that way, he stopped screaming five minutes ago."

Hermione blanched at this, but then Travers entered the room and closed the door.She decided it was best to focus on her current crisis first.

Blaise lowered his wand and stopped tormenting suddenly.Draco stopped his convulsions, and his body was in agony, hanging by chains.

It wasn't any particular kind of pain, it was a hundred times more painful than his injured shoulder, it was everywhere in his body, as if the whole skin had been peeled off in an instant.

The pain was so constant that at times he almost wanted to give up and just die, but that hope was not fulfilled either.If Blaise taunted him during the torture, he couldn't hear it.

The remnants of the spell are still working in the body, and the weak muscles are still twitching.But he's young, he's healthy, sanity is coming back, it's like there's a switch.

There were voices in the dungeon, a small man entered the room, and Draco heard him and Blaise arguing.He should pay attention to this, but something else occupied all his thoughts.

"Hermione..." His voice was deep and hoarse, full of reverence and comfort.

She's there, yes she's scared, but she's safe now.Her presence overwhelmed his senses, the pain dulled by sweet perception.

Lost in his discovery, he smiled, trembling with silent laughter.

How symbolic, in the end it was torture that made him accept his sincerity.

Blaise and the little man stopped arguing, looking at him like Cruciatus had driven him mad.

He was alone.

No, he was never alone, not since graduation night, not since FidaMia.

Draco didn't know how long he was hung, 10 minutes?One hour?two hours?

His head hung on his chest, motionless.

He is not alone.

Draco was half conscious and half dazed, oblivious to the fact that someone had entered the room, his vision blurry to capture a tall, dark silhouette.Maybe his imagination is getting brazen again?

Maybe it was his imaginary mother who had taken his advice and not dressed in that ridiculous outfit before another dream visit.

Maybe Blaise came back and continued to torture him, Draco's head was still humming, but his body was resisting Cruciatus, and his whole body began to shake.

Strong hands grabbed his waist and pulled him up, he smelled and felt leather, and a gloved hand gently tipped his head back.

Not Mom, he realized, imaginary or not, she was always a woman of grace and beauty who didn't seem to drag him so effortlessly.

Draco's eyes opened, slightly clear, and he was horrified to find himself looking into Lucius Malfoy's dark gray eyes.

"Father?" he gasped, and he couldn't be more surprised if Salazar Slytherin appeared to save him.

Lucius pulled down the hood of his cloak. "Your godfather greets you and wishes you to live long enough that he can kill you in private for your recklessness."

Draco had never remembered his father looking so alive, his long hair tied in a tight braid, wearing a black flying cloak, matching gloves, and angry eyes.

It looked good, because for once Draco knew the anger wasn't directed at him.

He could only be dumbfounded.

Lucius was doing these things with aplomb. He had just checked the wound on his son's forehead.Then he moved Draco's injured wrist with a painful expression.He took out a wand and quickly tore strips of cloth from his robes.

"What made you feel like you could get the job done if you ripped off your own hand?"

Draco's voice was fragile and dry like a piece of paper: "It's all because of torture."

Lucius snorted through the bandages.

"how do you……"

"Best question later." Lucius interrupted, taking a step back. "Stand up, kid?"

"Yes I am."

"Then stand up."

After a moment of hesitation, Draco braced himself heavily against the stone wall, and Lucius walked to the lever and released Draco.He seemed to know what he was doing when the chain that was hanging Draco suddenly gave up and he fell to the ground with a clatter.Draco might have said too soon, because his legs gave way as soon as he was free, and his father rushed to catch him.

"The girl is two floors up," Lucius told him, leaning his son against the wall again, removing the shackles: "Use your leg, it'll go away in no time." He sounded authoritative. .

Draco wondered if it was because Lucius had experienced Cruciatus himself, maybe because he had performed Cruciatus a lot.

"Brace Zabini is the recruiter, but he's losing his ground." Draco tried to move his shoulder to dissipate the pain.

"I see, take this."

Draco looked down and saw the bandaged hand holding a wand, not his or his father's, but a wand.After all, they might be able to get out of here alive.

"Don't you need it?" His father was right, the more he moved his legs, the more he could move.

"No need." Lucius said, both of them knew he was lying.

"What are you going to do?" Draco asked.

"Talk to your aunt."

This is random nonsense, and it sounds normal for a man to talk to his sister-in-law, except that one of them is a wanted murderer, and one happened to order the assassination of the other's wife.

"She killed Mother," Draco blurted out. "Zabini carried out Bellatrix's orders, and he admitted."

His father didn't know the truth yet, and some sadness seemed to cross his tough and handsome face, but