by Nimbus_9 » Dec 10th, '09, 22:09
Malfoy set himself down on one of the cushions and leaned back against a nearby bedpost, drawing his knees up loosely and resting his wrists atop them. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and tilting his head back, tipped some of the amber liquid down his throat.
Harry followed the Slytherin and set the tray down on the floor between them, lowering himself onto a cushion and leaning against the opposite bedpost, acutely aware of the other boy’s half-lidded gaze on him.
He felt thoroughly self-conscious being scrutinized and couldn’t bring himself to eat, so he stretched over the tray and swiped the bottle from Malfoy’s grasp. The Slytherin only watched as Harry settled back, tilted the bottle and then swallowed a much larger gulp of Firewhiskey than he’d intended.
Harry then coughed and spluttered and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. When he looked up through watery eyes the Slytherin was smirking at him.
“Let me guess. First time?”
“No!” Harry rasped, annoyed at suddenly feeling a little bit pathetic. He took another swig to prove a point and then handed the bottle back to Malfoy. “Where did you get it anyway?”
“Unlike most students in this Palace of Pueriles, I conquered puberty long ago.” The Slytherin took another swig.
Harry watched as the other boy brought the bottle to rest. “You stole it. Didn’t you?”
Cold eyes settled on Harry. “It must be debilitating to be so righteous all of the time.” Malfoy sneered. “I bet when you’re wandering obliviously around with your head held higher than everyone else’s, you’re thinking about the next undeserving soul you will save.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly, tilting his head back to rest on the bedpost. “I can’t save anyone.” He said resignedly. “As you have so thoughtfully pointed out." He lifted his head forward and raked a hand through his black mop. "I try... But it either doesn’t work out ... or I make things worse.”
“Then why are you here?” The other boy asked tonelessly.
The question surprised Harry. He hesitated before answering. “Well, firstly. I thought you might be hungry.” The Slytherin gave a doubtful scoff. “And secondly. I thought you might want some company.” Harry avoided the other boy's gaze. “Later.”
Malfoy’s expression went stony. “I told you.” He said darkly. “I don’t need your help.”
“Yeah, well … you could still have something to eat.” Harry said wearily. “You look like death warmed up.”
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Charming.”
Harry picked tentatively at the food as the Slytherin took another swig. After the first couple of mouthfuls he began to appreciate just how long it had been since he’d eaten.
“Do you miss flying?” Harry asked around a mouthful of cheese and pumpkin bread.
Malfoy looked up from watching Harry’s hands at work and rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”
“I do.” Harry went on, ignoring the blonde and picking up a carrot stick. “Not the Quidditch though. ...Strange that.” He frowned. “I guess its because I can’t really think about it right now. But flying. Just soaring through the air … I miss that.”
Harry raised his eyebrows as a thought occurred to him. “I suppose I could take the Firebolt out tomorrow. Head down to the Quidditch pitch after lunch for an hour or so…” He trailed off at the bitter look on Malfoy’s face. “Sorry.” He said quietly.
“Don’t let me drag you down, Potter.” The Slytherin said bitterly. “Merlin forbid if the ‘Chunderous One’ doesn’t get to fluff about on his broomstick tomorrow afternoon.”
“Do you sit around just thinking up insulting names for me?” Harry asked impatiently.
“Yes.” Malfoy said proudly. “Got loads more. Want to hear them?” He asked, not waiting to hear the answer. “Let’s see.” He looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “There’s the ‘Churlish One’, ‘The Bogey which Loitered’, ‘Chipmunk’s Bum’. That’s one Goyle came up with. Then there's the 'Chivalrous One'." His voice dripping with sarcasm. " 'The Bragger that Lacked–”
“Malfoy!”
“Oh, and my personal favourite, ‘The Buttocks What Loosened’." The Slytherin smirked. " That one is self explanatory and particularly useful. Then there’s ‘The Blunderer–”
“ENOUGH!”
Malfoy chuckled softly through his smirk.
~*~*~*~*~
“Potter. What are you doing?”
“Making a sandwich.”
“Out of herrings and musk sticks?”
“Why not?”
“…”
“Try some.”
“Do you want me to vomit up what little I have eaten?”
~*~*~*~*~
“No… Look… Juss… Give it here. You don’t do it like that un-unless you want the lining of your throat dissholved.”
“Malfoy. Where did that second bottle come from?”
“Now watch…................…ssee? No after… … no aft… …no problem.”
“All right. I think you’ve had enough. Let me try.”
“I’ll have you know, Potter. I will still be standing–”
“Sitting.”
“What? Oh. I will still be 'sitting'… when you are l…lying in a p-hool of your own vomit.”
“Thanks for sharing that image.”
~*~*~*~*~
“…The ‘Cheesey One’, 'The Blemish That Lurked', the ‘Chunderous One’, ‘The Botcher–”
“You ssaid that one already.”
“...What?”
“ ‘Chunderous One’. Tha… that was the firss one you called me.”
“Don't interrupt.”
“…”
“ ‘The By-gone That Lingered’, the ‘Childish One’, 'The Boy Who Blunders'………
~*~*~*~*~
“Draco?”
“What?”
“I feel ssick.”
“Well you should have stopped three quarters of an hour ago. When I did.”
“You had a … a head sstart.”
“Of roughly three and a half years by the look of it. I thought you said you’d had Firewhiskey before?”
“I hah-ave. For medicing...medish… When I was ssick.”
“Well, once you stop drinking you sober up pretty fast.”
“Oh good. …Uuuuuur.”
“Do not throw up in my sleeping quarters! If you’re going to live up to your pet name then do it in the bathroom.”
“I think… bathroom...”
“…”
“Oopssy Daisy!”
“Oh… For Merlin’s sake, Potter. Pull yourself together.”
"...”
“Here. Give me your hand.”
~*~*~*~*~
“So what happens now?” Harry asked, leaning against the bedpost. Both of them were back in their original positions after returning from the bathroom. (An experience Harry would prefer to forget.)
Malfoy sighed. “What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow night. What happens when we find what we’re both looking for?”
Malfoy leaned his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands. His fingers scrunched through his hair. “Exactly what was always going to happen.”
Harry breathed in deeply and then let it out long and slow. “I don’t want to fight you Malfoy.”
“It’ll happen anyway.”
The Slytherin glanced at the squat old clock on the mantelpiece. “Its time for you to leave.”
Harry looked at the hands that pointed to a quarter to twelve and shook his head and regretted it instantly as it swam dangerously. “I’m staying.”
Malfoy stood up and looked down at Harry stonily. “No. You’re not.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly and then picked himself up off the floor. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of sweets, spilling some onto the floor.
Malfoy scowled and was about to say something when Harry finally removed the small crystal bottle of purple-black liquid. Harry held it out for Malfoy to take.
Malfoy eyed it cautiously.
“It’s a healing potion. A health Tonic.” Harry explained.
Malfoy shook his head. “No.”
Harry shoved it into the Slytherin whose hands came around it automatically. “Take it. Seven drops with water. I’ve been taking it for ages and it works brilliantly.”
“It doesn’t look like any healing potion I know.” Malfoy sneered at it. “Did you just throw it together out of scraps?”
“No, it was made by a healer in Hogsmeade. She’s really gifted, Malfoy. Just… just trust me and use it.”
The other boy pulled out the stopper and sniffed at it. He screwed his face up and then sniffed again. He returned the stopper and held it out to Harry with a blank look on his face.
“What?”
“I’m not taking that.” The Slytherin said.
“Why not?”
“Its contains danomdipartite. Amongst other things.”
“So?”
“You don’t ingest danomdipartite if you like breathing.” Malfoy said tonelessly.
Harry frowned and took the bottle. "...But..."
“Tomorrow. A quarter to ten. Don’t be late.”
Harry replaced the bottle in his pocket. “Sure.”
As he headed back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry tried to think of a way that would make tomorrow not as inevitable as Malfoy had said. But he couldn’t come up with a single way of avoiding the confrontation that would follow, if not as soon as they had seen the memory, then as soon as they found the Horcrux.
And it made Harry's already queasy stomach churn.
He didn’t want to fight Malfoy. Not like this.
The arguments and skirmishes they’d had in the past were going to be nothing compared to their final battle. This time the stakes were much higher.
They were competing for the same short-term objective. Needing one another to achieve it, yet as always, on opposing sides.
In the end, one of them would lose everything.
And one would claim the prize.
But at what price?
Harry decided that maybe this was a game neither of them could win.
~*~*~*~*~
27. Hermione's Parting
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dining tables in the Great Hall were slowly shrinking. The Gryffindor table however, seemed to be growing longer by the day. It now extended to almost half the length it was when the school had its full intake, nearly doubling in size since the beginning of the school year. Mealtimes had become a meeting place – a time to discuss anything that related to student welfare and safety along with outside happenings that threatened their world as a whole. It seemed the Gryffindor table was ‘the’ place to be if you wanted to know the latest happenings.
The students that belonged to the ever-increasing DA gathered at the back end of the table, while those left (mostly the younger Gryffindor students and their friends) took up the front half. Amongst the mix of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, was the odd Slytherin as well as most of the new unassigned first years who ever since the discovery of the tunnel beneath Hogwarts had developed the strategy of schooling together and hovering on the fringes of the largest crowds.
Sunday morning breakfasts were casual affairs, with students wafting in at their leisure, taking advantage of the extra hours service, and drifting off again to make the most of the free day before another week started.
Today the torches were all lit, spilling their yellowy light into the shadowed corners of the Hall as a storm raged outside. Almost black clouds brimming with violet, billowed in the magical ceiling, while outside they loomed over the castle and its surrounds, smothering sunlight and blanketing the Hall’s windows so that it could have been dusk if not for the toasts and cereals lining the tables. The thunder that rolled across the ancient stonework shook the panes and hummed through the tables, making cutlery tinkle and liquids shimmy.
Harry sat staring at two runny poached eggs that trembled jelly-like on his plate.
“You look positively green.” Hermione scolded over the lingering rumble.
Harry’d already explained up in the common room to a concerned Hermione before coming down why he was not really feeling like breakfast. At his tale of drinking half a bottle of firewhiskey with a sottish Slytherin, she had dropped the worried frown, snorted unkindly and shuffled him out the portrait hole ahead of her. Harry had thought this a bit harsh, as he’d stumbled down the stairways and corridors dreaming longingly of crawling back into bed. When she had slid the plate containing two poached eggs in front of him just after he had sat down, Harry suspected that Hermione’s sadistic streak new no bounds in the punishment of the previously pinko’ed, since it appeared she was actually trying to make him vomit.
“You could’ve come and got me last night.” Ron said sulkily. Reaching over he lifted a platter of grilled tomatoes to his plate, taking three halves off and then setting it back down again. “Best mates, Harry. We’re supposed to do that sort of thing together. Can’t believe you’d go down into the dungeons alone to get stonkered with Malfoy. It should’ve been me.”
“Honestly.” Hermione tisked disapprovingly at Ron.
Harry pushed his plate away and looked up miserably. “I didn’t go down there to drink. It just sort of… happened.”
Hermione turned her nose up slightly. “If you’re careless enough to get yourself into this state then you deserve to suffer if you ask me.”
Harry frowned at her in annoyance as she swirled honey over her steaming porridge. He was ready to admit that it was his own fault that his brain felt like it had turned into lead overnight, but he suspected her total lack of sympathy was for Ron’s benefit more than his own. Maybe he would have to re-think the whole ‘fringe benefits’ thing.
“That’s not very sympathetic.” Ron said sullenly, tipping bacon onto his plate enough for three people.
“I give sympathy where it’s deserved.” Hermione said snootily. “I suppose you think it was funny.”
“If I’d been there it would’ve been.” Ron replied grimly. Looking at Harry he continued. “Malfoy could’ve been planning to get you drunk, Harry. Maybe he’s hexed you and you can’t remember it. Maybe it’s got a delayed effect and sometime later on today your nose will fall off.” Ron’s eyes grew large as a thought occurred to him. He shoved the bacon dish onto the table distractedly, knocking over the salt and peppershakers. “Maybe he slipped you a potion in your drink and that’s why you look so green. Maybe you’ll go blue next because you can’t breathe–”
“We drank from the same bottle Ron.” Harry said calmly.
“Oh.” Ron relaxed and stuffed a chunk of tomato in his mouth.
“Harry…”
Harry cocked his head at Hermione’s warning tone wearily, expecting further disapproving comments, but when his gaze met hers she was glaring at him, her spoon frozen in mid-scoop. She glanced meaningfully in the direction of the front of the Hall so Harry followed her gaze. His eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise.
Easing into a chair at the teacher’s table, in between Hagrid (who was also just settling himself and when did he get back?) and Professor Flitwick, was Julie.
Harry’s eyebrows lowered again almost immediately when he remembered Malfoy’s reaction to the potion. His brow furrowed together as he reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the potion he hadn’t bothered removing last night.
“Hermione? What’s danomdipartite?” He asked cautiously. He hadn’t told either of his friends what Malfoy had said about the potion because he didn’t really know if he could take the Slytherin’s word for it. After all, Julie had performed amazing healing on Harry’s wounds after his run-in with Greyback. Why heal someone you’re only interested in poisoning?
Hermione, who had been shooting furtive glances at Ron, just waiting for him to notice Julie, creased her brow thoughtfully for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. Can’t say as I’ve ever heard of it. Why?”
Harry leaned forward and held out the dark purple potion for Hermione to take. She frowned, set her spoon down and took the bottle from him.
“That’s the tonic I’ve been taking that Julie gave me.” Harry said. “I offered it to Malfoy last night because he looks so ill, but he gave it back to me. He said it contained danomdipartite and that he wouldn’t take it because he liked breathing too much.”
Hermione’s eyes grew wide and Ron’s fork clattered against his plate loudly where it had dropped.
“Whu?” Ron muffled out through egg and toast.
Harry shrugged in an effort to look like he wasn’t that bothered. “He could be wrong. I can’t imagine Julie trying to poison me slowly when she’s had ample opportunity to do away with me at her place. And anyway,” He continued casually. “If you’ve never heard of that stuff Hermione, then Malfoy’s probably got it wrong. Maybe he was just trying to scare me?”
Hermione gave Harry a withered look. “Contrary to popular belief, I do not know everything. And as far as potions go, Malfoy’s had enough help over the years as Snape’s pet to know what he’s talking about. Probably.” She added. “Just because I haven’t heard of it doesn’t make it not real. It could be a substance only used in dark magic. There must be loads of ingredients used in all sorts of potions that aren’t in the books we have here. I mean, look at Horcruxes. I couldn’t find that in the libr–” She stopped suddenly and narrowed her eyes at the dark liquid. “…brary.” She finished quietly, turning the crystal bottle around in her hand thoughtfully.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Mmm?”
“C’mon Hermione.” Ron said, slightly irritated. “You always do this! You can’t just leave us hanging when you’ve got something.”
“Oh, its nothing really.” She said distractedly, still eyeing the bottle. “I recently acquired some reading material that might help.”
“Where from?” Ron asked interestedly. “I thought you said you didn’t get out much over the holidays?”
“What?” Hermione finally dragged her gaze from the potion. “Oh… No. Well I didn’t. Sir gave me some extra reading material.” She frowned again and leaned across to Harry. “I’ll see if I can find anything but in the meantime, I can give this to Meredith from the DA if you like? She helps Ginny with her Potions homework. Her parents apparently design a number of the potions they sell in their apothecaries, and she works in the labs with them over the holidays so she must be fairly knowledgeable.” She slipped the bottle into her jacket pocket. “I really think it’s worth checking it out. The meaning of the name alone makes me–”
“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”
Harry swung his head to follow Ron’s threatening gaze and realized with a sinking feeling what his best friend was glaring at. Hermione sighed wearily as Harry brought his gaze back to meet Ron’s. This was why Hermione was so anxious about Julie’s presence. Ron may have forgiven Harry once they had escaped Voldemort, not surprising after what they had been through together, but he had no reason at all to make friendly with Julie.
“I have no idea.” Harry replied dully.
“Maybe you can ask her.” Hermione said casually, lifting a spoonful of porridge to her mouth. “She’s on her way over right now.”
“What?” Ron’s head spun back to the direction of the teacher’s table and sure enough, Julie was coasting up the aisle between the tables, heading straight for Harry. Ron narrowed his eyes and Harry slunk further down in his seat. All he needed now was for Ginny to come along to complete this increasingly gloomy morning. A low gurgle of thunder tumbled overhead ominously as Julie stopped beside Harry, flashing all three of them a bright smile.
“Harry. How are you?” She took in his greenish pallor, knitting her eyebrows together as Harry fumbled with words.
“Er… um, good. I'm Well. Um… How are you?”
“You don’t look well.” Julie raised an eyebrow dubiously. She glanced at his plate of untouched eggs. “Not eating again, I see?” She rested her hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. “How long have you been feeling ill again?”
“Er… its nothing. Really.” Harry cringed inwardly. “Its just this morning and… I’m feeling better than I did when I woke up.”
“Hello.”
Oh no.
Harry closed his eyes briefly at the sound of Ginny’s voice.
This day, it seemed, could only get worse.
He turned reluctantly to face his girlfriend who was standing behind him.
Julie removed her hand.
Ron and Hermione watched on in awed anticipation.
“Ginny.” He reached out his hand to her in a gesture he had performed many times and was mildly surprised when she smiled dreamily down at it and chuckled, placing her own hand in his tentatively, yet enthusiastically. He squeezed it gently in a reassuring way but it seemed he needn’t have worried. She sat herself down demurely next to Harry, grinning at their joined hands.
Mrs. Weasley, who had entered the Hall with McGonagall, patted the Headmistress’ arm in farewell and headed for Julie.
“Well now.” She said, smiling kindly at Julie. “Minerva tells me you will be taking Potions for the rest of the year Julie?”
“What?” Harry choked out.
Hermione made a strangled noise in her throat and Ron dropped his fork again.
“Yes. That’s right.” Julie said pleasantly. “And I’ll be teaching Healing charms in the Great Hall when time allows.”
“A good thing too. Minerva knows what she’s doing. Best to have even children trained these days.” Mrs. Weasley then gave Ron and Ginny a pointed stare. “Both of you pay close attention to what Miss Pathet has to say. There’s few better when it comes to healing charms.” She motioned loosely with her hand. “These two are mine. You let me know if they give you any trouble. Ginny’s my youngest, and that there’s–”
“We’ve met.” Ron cut in icily, glaring at Julie.
“Yes, we have.” Julie agreed with a smile. Mrs Weasley looked surprised at Ron’s obvious dislike. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Have a nice breakfast Molly. Harry?” Harry rubbed Ginny’s hand with his thumb before releasing it and reluctantly meeting Julie’s gaze. “I would like you to stop by the potions classroom later. I’ll be working in there most of the day. Anytime that’s convenient for you will be fine.”
“What for?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.
She had turned to leave and hesitated at his words. “Oh. Our business is of a somewhat … personal nature.”
Harry’s stomach fell through the floor. It was almost as if he could feel the soil piling up around him as Julie dug his hole. He nodded nervously, ready to agree to anything so that Julie would stop talking and leave. He watched as she finally walked away, and then hazarded a look at Ginny.
His fiery girlfriend was busy arranging her scrambled eggs on her plate in the form of a face, with two huge grilled tomato-halves as eyes, a small chipolata sausage for a nose, and a crispy curved bacon strip as its smiling mouth. When it was all in place she cocked her head to admire her handy work.
“Um … Ginny?” Harry asked hesitantly. She didn’t look up immediately, just took out her wand and pointed it at the plate. Harry, Ron and Hermione all flinched expecting the food to blow up or incinerate or worse. Instead the breakfast face started chuckling. She smiled dreamily back at it and then she seemed to pick up on Harry watching her and raised her eyebrows expectantly in his direction.
“What are you doing?”
“I felt like happy food this morning.” She smiled easily as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say. “Storms can be so dreary, don’t you think?”
Her breakfast chuckled again and Harry couldn’t stop the broad grin that crossed his face or the small laugh that escaped his lips as relief surged through him. He completely forgot that Mrs Weasley was there and leant sideways and plucked a soft lingering kiss from her lips. Ginny stayed with her lips puckered and her eyes closed for a long moment, even after Harry pulled back, as if savouring it for all it was worth. When she opened her eyes and looked straight into Harry’s enquiring gaze she giggled shyly and then picked up her cutlery and stabbed one of the tomato eyes on her plate. She popped it into her mouth and chewed it with a large dopey grin on her face.
Harry smiled and chuckled softly to himself and grabbed a piece of toast from the rack, suitably relieved that Ginny seemed completely uncaring at the turn of events and feeling rather smug about Ginny’s reaction to his kiss.
Hermione had watched all of this with narrowed eyes.
~*~*~*~*~
“Pansy! Can I walk with you?”
Pansy was on the third floor near the transfiguration classrooms, mid-way through her rounds when Harry had finally spotted her after leaving the Great Hall. She eyed him suspiciously as he caught up with her, but didn’t say anything, only continued along the passageway, her eyes darting this way and that, occasionally lifting the corner of a tapestry or poking a suit of armour with her wand to check that it sounded hollow. Harry walked beside her, watching her and thinking that she was indeed very thorough in her duties.
She stopped suddenly and turned her attention on Harry, her lips pouted and an eyebrow raised challengingly.
“It was that stupid elf, wasn’t it?” She crossed her arms defiantly. Harry raised both eyebrows, caught off guard by her question. “It told you even after I gave it orders not to!”
“I made Dobby tell me.” Harry said finally. “And if you seek any sort of retribution on him you’ll have me to deal with. Is that clear?” He asked warningly.
She sniffed, tilting her head and looking down her stubby little nose at him. “I have no intentions of punishing him. He’ll take care of that all by himself. Lucius Malfoy had him exceedingly well trained.”
“It’s a wonder Dobby feels any sympathy for people like you.” Harry frowned. “After the way your lot treated him he should have been happy to leave Malfoy to his fate.”
“It just goes to show then, doesn’t it?” Pansy said lightly. “Perhaps you don’t know as much as you think you do.”
“What is there to know? Oh. Don’t tell me.” Harry said sarcastically. “Draco deserves Dobby’s sympathy because he was always so kind to the house elf, right?”
“Hardly.” She replied. “Draco learned from the best after all. No. He was never kind. That creature and others like it are not worth the effort of kindness. Most of them wouldn’t appreciate it anyway. So why waste your time?”
“That’s just wrong on so many levels. You’re lucky Hermione isn’t around to hear you say that.”
“Like I care what that muggle thinks.”
“She’s a witch, just like you.”
Pansy balled her fists up. “She’s nothing like me – or any of the other pure-blooded witches in this school. She’s never had to choose sides. She doesn’t have to worry when she returns home that her own family might be the enemy. She won’t be looking over her shoulder and wondering if her parents are looking at her like that because they suspect she’s not willing to take the Mark when she graduates. She won’t be lying awake at night waiting for the bedroom door to swing open with her father or brother or worse standing there in a Death Eater mask because someone has fingered you as a risk.” She was bordering on hysterical as her eyes glistened with moisture.
Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. Stung by her words he just stared at her as she continued.
“You ‘precious ones’ think everything is black and white – good and evil – and nothing in-between. Well Slytherins know better. You think we don’t notice that people sneer at us just because we wear Silver and Green?” Pansy said bitterly. “Is it any wonder that we don’t play nicely with the other children? We're forced to make choices on our own because nobody but Professor Snape ever looked out for us!”
“But M-Malfoy took the mark willingly.” Harry stumbled awkwardly. “He was proud of it ... Pleased even ... I heard him on the train...”
“You heard him bragging to his peers, Potter! Just maybe that ridiculous little elf knows Draco a little better than you! Ask yourself why a crazy little elf like that would care about what happens to him. And while you’re at it, ask yourself why Draco took the Mark so young, why don’t you? But maybe you don't want to know that much about him. Maybe its easier to keep him labelled with the tag you were so quick to slap on him in the beginning." She huffed and jutted an accusing finger at him. "I would have thought you’d have learned something about him last night.”
She saw the surprise on Harry’s face and dropped her shoulders exasberatedly.
“Oh of course I know about it. He didn't tell me what went on but he said you didn't fight." She let out a weary breath and lowered her gaze. " I thought maybe that would’ve helped you to see. Helped you to realize.”
Harry worked his jaw, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Being put in your place by Pansy Parkinson was not an experience he ever thought he'd suffer. Not knowing how to respond he decided to go on the offensive.
“How long have you known he’s here?”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Not long. But long enough.”
“And yet you didn’t bother to inform the DA–”
“I couldn’t care less about your little vigilante group, to be honest.”
Harry faltered. “Huh?”
“I’m only there so I know what’s going on – that’s all.”
“But… you’re here… checking the passageways.”
“Because my darling Draco needs me to.” Pansy said smoothly. “You didn’t really think I was doing it for you?”
“I thought … for the DA. For all of the students.” Harry said, mildly disgusted.
“No.” She said simply. “Only for Draco. He needs me to keep an eye on things while he’s… indisposed.”
“You know, you’re not helping your case for Slytherins here. You do realize how bloody selfish that sounds! Why the hell would I trust people like you when you’ve got that sort of attitude?”
“You know, Draco’s been close to killing you more times than you can imagine.”
Harry’s breath hitched at the careless ease with which Pansy spoke.
“But he’s never actually done it, has he? Not once in the whole time he’s been here has he even attacked you. He could have. Loads of times. When you were down by the lake all by your lonesome and he was standing right behind you and there was no one to see. Even then, he didn’t do anything.
“My Draco is not the enemy underfoot you should be focusing on.” She added snootily, not meeting his eye.
Harry’s nose crinkled in question. “What d'you mean?”
Pansy sighed dramatically. “I’m not going to stick my neck out for you, Potter.”
“You’re in the DA Pansy.” Harry pointed out. “It's not like you can hide that for long. Not now we have so many members.”
“I’m not trying to hide it.” She said indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m in the perfect position to spy right where I am.”
Harry scoffed. “For who?”
“For either side. It's perfect.” She shrugged. “It was Draco’s idea, after all.”
“What?” Harry blurted.
“Oh don’t get your wand in a knot!” She said dramatically. “I’m not actually spying on you, it just looks that way. It'd be pretty thick to tell you about it otherwise, don't you think? No. This way I can be alerted to any unexpected visitors to Hogwarts and keep an eye on Bl....” Her straying eyes flashed with fear and she stopped herself sharply.
“Who? Who are you keeping–”
“Blaise!” Pansy interrupted Harry loudly, peering over his shoulder. Harry turned to see Blaise strolling up behind him.
“Pansy.” Blaise said smoothly, coming to a stop. “What are you doing here still? You’re going to be late for our study session if you don’t get a move on.” His eyes darted between the two of them in suspicion, narrowing ever so slightly.
“Oh do drag me away from this boorish Gryffindor, Blaise.” Pansy sighed exaggeratedly, all traces of uncertainty gone. “Its not enough that I’m doing my share, he has to come up and start criticizing how I do it!”
“I did not–”
“Come on, darling.” Pansy cut Harry's indignant denial off, grabbing Blaise’s arm and tugging him along with her. “I get no appreciation, Blaise. No love.” She pulled Blaise up the corridor leaving Harry staring after them in bewilderment.
~*~*~*~*~
Ron accosted Harry just outside the common room as he was on his way back. Ron was carrying his winter cloak over one arm and was out of breath and mildly panicky.
“Harry. We have to go. Now.” He said, grabbing Harry’s arm.
“What’s happened?” Harry asked quickly as he allowed Ron to lead him speedily down the stairs.
“Hermione’s gone to meet him. To call it all off.” He panted. “You promised we’d follow her. I don’t trust him Harry.”
Realizing Ron was talking about Hermione and Zach he said. “Oh." And then added. "Don’t you think you’re over reacting a bit?” Just then he was shoved unceremoniously into the second floor shortcut to the main stairs by a pushy Ron. “I mean Hermione’s handled him pretty well so far.”
“Ginny said he wouldn’t let Hermione do it by owl. Kept insisting she meet him. Why?" He asked forcefully. " Why would he want to meet with her if he was going to take this well?”
They came out at the top of the marble staircase on the first floor. Harry stumbled forward as Ron nudged him out of the hidden recess. A clap of thunder crashed overhead, echoing loudly through the high ceilinged Hall.
“Well, it is a bit impersonal … isn’t it?” Harry offered calmly. “Owl, I mean. Its not exactly a 'sensitive' way to break-up, is it?”
“Harry. If it was no big deal why didn’t she tell us she was going?” Ron threw Harry’s coat at him and started down the stairs to the Entrance Hall talking over his shoulder. "She's too bloody proud. That's her trouble!"
Harry pulled his coat awkwardy over his shoulders as he followed.
The sky outside was deep shades of grey and purple, and hard heavy rain lashed at Harry as he closed the huge entrance door behind him. The rain did not seem to slow Ron down in the slightest however. He was racing across the grounds to the gate as if pursued by a dragon. He was already muttering the password and flicking his wand at the chains that bound the gate by the time Harry joined him.
“Where are we going?” Harry asked as they slipped through and relocked the entrance.
“The Three Broomsticks. Ginny said ... that's where she's meeting him.” Ron answered breathlessly and then he disappeared with a pop. Harry sighed and followed.
He arrived outside the pub just in time to see Ron disappear inside it. Harry opened the door and entered the familiar cosy warmth already uncomfortably wet from his brief time in the rain.
Before he knew what was happening he was enveloped by a blast of hot wind that gushed and blustered all around him, taking his breath away. It stopped after only few seconds and Harry looked about him in confusion. A wrinkly old wizard dressed in shabby khaki robes sat in a padded chintz armchair near the door holding his wand in hand, pointing it at Harry. A crooked, toothless smile slanted his face as he looked at Harry’s cloak.
Harry looked down and patted himself and realized he was bone dry.
The old wizard wheezed a cackle at his surprise. Harry began searching his pockets, hoping that he had some money stashed somewhere, but the wizard shook his head and poked his thumb in the direction of Madame Rosmerta.
“Taken care of, lad.” He rasped. Harry nodded and thanked him and began his search for Hermione and Zach.
He spotted Ron unsuccessfully trying to ‘covertly’ work his way around the room. The boy knocked someone’s drink all down it's owner and trod on more than one foot in his ‘stealthy’ efforts of trying not to bring attention to himself. Harry turned away to hide his smirk.
The pub was almost full as it was near lunchtime, and Sunday lunches were always a big draw because of Happy Hour. When Harry and Ron finally stopped, neither had seen any sign of Hermione or Zach.
“I’ll ask Rosmerta.” Ron said with a worried frown. Harry nodded and Ron went up to the bar, leant over it and spoke to the innkeeper. She smiled broadly at him when she saw Ron and then nodded her head and pointed to an empty two-seater corner table. Then she shook her head and motioned to the door. Ron turned quickly and made his way back to Harry.
“They’ve left.” He said, looking paler than usual. “They walked off without apparating.”
Harry frowned. “Where would they go in this weather?”
“You tell me.” Ron replied, the worry etched on his face. Harry gripped his arm gently.
“We’ll find her. Don’t worry. C’mon.” Harry led Ron back to the door. “Hang on.” He pulled up short and turned to face Ron. Digging under his cloak, he slipped his wand out of the pocket of his jeans and waved it over Ron. “Impervious Charm.” Harry explained, and then turned the wand on himself. He waved it and then slipped it back under his cloak. “Let’s go.”
Once back out on the street they decided it would be better to split up and cover more ground faster. Harry headed out towards the Shrieking Shack with the aim of circling round to meet Ron back outside the pub in twenty minutes. As he trudged along in the rain, which fell all around him and not on him thanks to the charm, he began to worry in earnest.
Why would Hermione leave the comfort of The Three Broomsticks and come out in this? She was far too sensible a girl to do something like that lightly, so what had brought her out here?
A sudden gust of wind whipped his coat up, and Harry shivered. Partly from the cold blast, but mostly because Ron’s foreboding intuition about Hermione’s break-up with Zach was now creeping through Harry’s veins like ice.
Harry quickened his pace, scanning the cobbled streets carefully. Lightening forked across the sky as he neared the edge of town and a clap of thunder broke loudly above him. Harry’s worry was turning to dread as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Hermione. It was possible that she had already returned to Hogwarts, but something told Harry that she hadn’t. That she was out here somewhere and in need of him and Ron. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a flash of light somewhere in the distance to his right. It was low on the horizon, rising above the housetops instead of illuminating the sky.
Harry broke into a run.
He circled the last house at the end of the street before the forest took over and bolted down the path that took him past trees on one side and streets on the other.
Another flash of light rose from the trees ahead.
Harry clumsily dug for his wand under his cloak, but it was impossible to get to it under the heavy garment unless he slowed down or stopped. Another flash – this one green – and Harry abandoned his try for the wand and broke into a sprint.
As he neared he could make out three figures draped in black standing around another slumped body on the ground. Harry tried to pull up before he ran straight into them and gave himself away but skidded on the muddy sopping grass and slid along the ground on his hip before finally coming to a halt in a bush.
He scrambled to pull his wand out and get up at the same time but he slipped again, nosediving into the mud. He swore loudly in frustration and ripped at his cloak. It fell away as he stumbled to his feet, his hand swiftly grabbing his wand from his jeans. The impervious charm had dissipated on contact with the ground when he had fallen and the rain pelted into his lenses obscuring his vision. The figures ahead were a blur, but he could make out one of them lifting the limp body off the ground. Harry pushed forward and fired a stun that hit his target, flinging the Death Eater backwards and sending the body in his arms flying.
Another figure with light coloured hair was screaming at Harry and pointing frantically. Then spells were being flung at Harry from an impossible number of directions as he tried to turn. Unable to do anything else, he launched himself onto the ground, ducking the ribbons of light that laced above him. Some hit surrounding trees and exploded, sending splintering wood showering down on Harry. But he didn’t have time to worry about the sudden stabbing pain in his shoulder. He clawed his way off the ground again and scrambled towards the body that had been thrown clear by his stun, when suddenly something brought him crashing to his knees. Collapsing under an enormous weight Harry was pushed forward and pinned flat to the ground. All the air left his lungs under the crushing force and specks of light darted into his eyesight as he slowly and painfully lifted his head.
Voices muffled by the storm exchanged unknown words around Harry’s prone form. He realized he was only meters from the Death Eater he had knocked out with his stun as several pairs of black boots crossed his field of vision, slapping in the muddy, rain soaked grass. The Death Eater was beginning to slowly and stiffly pick himself up off the ground, and only a short distance from him was the limp body he had been holding. This close Harry could see the sodden and muddied long brown hair and Weasley jumper poking through the torn cloak.
“Hermione.”
It came out as barely a whisper and Harry’s heart clenched and ached and suddenly everything felt wrong.
He gritted his teeth, putting everything he had into moving. To getting up and going to her anyway he could. He tried to push up, but even though his arms were right there on the ground either side of his head his brain couldn’t seem to find them to use them and as he strained, blackness swamped the edges of his vision threateningly. He ignored the warning and summoned every nerve and muscle he could to get on his feet, but his arms still didn't move and with dawning understanding, Harry realized couldn’t even feel his legs.
The blonde who had been screaming at Harry was lying on his back in the mud a few feet away with his arms folded over his face and weeping whole-heartedly. Then his arms dropped away as he rolled onto his side and hugged himself, curling his knees up tightly into his chest.
Zacharias anguished eyes closed tightly as he continued to sob.
Harry’s neck burned with the strain of keeping his head up but he had to watch. He had to.
The Death Eater in front of him had finally found his feet and was walking the few paces to Hermione’s still form. He bent down to gather her up and as he slid his arms under her body his now unmasked face came into Harry’s limited field of view.
Harry roared in frustration and fury, but with next to no air in his lungs all that came out was an inaudible groan, smothered by the pounding, relentless rain. Harry watched, unable to do anything as Snape lifted Hermione and then turned to face the other Death Eaters. He said something Harry couldn’t pick up and then Harry felt a pull, and sharp seering pain forked through his right shoulder. He tried to respond but all that came out was a broken grunt.
He was rapidly losing his battle to stay conscious. His eyes dropped closed as his head sagged.
The voices were talking again but were interrupted by a loud yell that came from somewhere in the distance.
Snape barked out an order and Harry heard several loud cracks and he knew beyond a doubt, without having to look, that Hermione was gone.
Zach’s wailing sobs droned on relentlessly and then Harry heard Ron's voice calling to him.
Harry clinged to consciousness.
He had failed Ron. He had failed Hermione. He’d let them take her and he wanted to tell Ron how sorry he was. How desperately and sickeningly sorry he was.
The pain seemed to be growing in intensity as he tried to draw breath.
His head finally dropped cheek first back into the mud, the strength to hold it up no longer in him. Ron yelled his name frantically again, sounding almost on top of him, and then ... a hand touched his face hesitantly.
Harry dragged his eyes open and met Ron’s pale, strained and scared face looking down at him.
“I’m so sorry.” Harry breathed.
Then he sank into darkness.
~*~*~*~*~
28. Revelations
Harry didn’t feel like moving and he wasn’t really sure if he was awake, asleep or dead. He seemed to be lying on a cushioned surface on his stomach and his cheek was pushed into what could have been a pillow. Jumbled up nightmare images flashed through his head as grim murmurs slowly drifted into his hearing.
“…Poppy. Are you saying that the sap was trying to liquefy his muscles?”
“Nasty stuff Minerva, and hard to recognise according to Professor Sprout. The Eucapatholyptus looks exactly like a harmless Blood-wood. I dread to think what would have happened if she hadn’t been up here when he was brought in.”
“How did Pomona know what it was?”
“One of the two fellows that helped Mr. Weasley bring him back’d already removed quite a vicious curse that had Potter pinned to the ground, but nothing he cast helped Potter’s paralysis. When I asked about the wound in his shoulder the Professor noticed the splinters in his clothing. He was hardly breathing by then.”
Harry tried to open his eyes as the murmuring voices echoed over him lingeringly, but nothing happened. Not even a fluttering of eyelids.
“The shard entered his shoulder… just there. See? It was pulled out rather roughly going by the tear, though nobody seems to know by whom. If it’d stayed in there any longer he would have been beyond my aide. He will need complete bed rest, of course. For the next few days at least.”
“You are aware of how difficult that will be under the circumstances?”
“Mm, yes. Unfortunately I am quite well acquainted with Mr. Potter’s… determination.”
Groggily, Harry tried to move, to roll over in an effort to ease the ache in his limbs, but it wasn’t just his eyes that didn’t work. Not even a finger lifted off the bed.
“How long will the antidote take to work through his system?”
“He’ll be a bit wobbly on his feet for a time, but he’s breathing normally already. He should be able to make it to the bathroom and back but not much further than that for a few days, I’m afraid.”
“What about Smith?”
“Heavily sedated until we can get two coherent words out of him.” Harry felt the mattress lift slightly on one side as a sheet was drawn up and tucked in. “The Ministry’s hounds will be back tomorrow to question him fully. Its hard to believe a young man like that would lead poor Miss Granger into…”
“Yes. Well we do not have all the facts yet, Poppy. I imagine there is more to this than what Mr. Weasley has so far informed.”
As thoughts of Hermione bombarded him, Harry tried to push out some of the sickening pressure building in him. It would likely come out as an awful groan and Harry wouldn’t have cared. Any sound would have been a release, helping him to escape this waking prison he found himself in. But nothing, not even a whisper passed his lips. His whole insides were swirling with anger, frustration, and sorrow slowly rotting inside him.
“I would have worried about Smith’s safety tonight except for the fact I gave young Ronald something to calm him before I sent him off as well. I’ve never seen a student look so murderous–”
“Thank you, Poppy. I believe Mr. Weasley was … very close … to Miss Granger. She was … an exceptional … young woman.”
McGonagall’s voice sounded strangled and Harry started to lose grip on whatever it was that had woken him.
“I must be going, Poppy. I do not like to leave but some things will not wait. … I will notify the Grangers … before I leave for the Ministry. You will be able to handle things here until I return?”
Harry registered McGonagalls anguished tone at contacting Hermione’s parents and guilt forked through him like lightening. It was his fault she was gone. He had been so busy worrying about Ginny being a target that he had neglected to watch out for his other two highest priorities. Ron and Hermione. His Hermione. And now she was gone. Sweet kind compassionate lovingly loyal impossibly bossy and always right Hermione.
Best friend for ever Hermione.
How could he have let this happen…
“He’s out of danger Minerva. Don’t worry, neither of them will be going anywhere this evening.”
Harry no longer wanted to hold on. To think about how she had slipped so violently away from him. Because of him. He let go and felt himself fall. Footsteps faded into nothing.
~*~*~*~*~
… Potter …
Harry was dreaming of rain. So much rain, that he could no longer see the ground, just a dark ocean and grey storm clouds. The murky water pooled around his thighs as large blobs continued to fall. The droplets dented the surface causing rippling ringlets to expand and collide in a never-ending cycle. Harry wondered if he too was made of water.
The tips of his fingers swirled lazy patterns through the spitting swelling, volumous surface, as he stood not moving, just watching the water rise. He thought about how peaceful it would be to just stand there and let the water keep coming. To let it swathe him. Envelop him.
He watched as it bloomed higher and higher. Maybe when it covered him completely it would finally shut out the awful sobbing that persistently echoed around him.
“…Potter…”
Harry ignored the intruder to this grey, wet and empty place where he didn’t have to think about anything except the rain.
Warm wet salty rain.
He lifted his face to the weeping haze and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the water seeping up his body. It was up to his elbows and he let it keep coming. Willed it to come.
As the rain sprinkled onto his face he slowly became aware that he was leaking. He looked down and saw salty water seeping through his shirt and running in rivulets down his chest. At the same moment … he realized the incessant sobbing had stopped.
“Potter!”
Harry opened his eyes. The second he did he wished he had let the water take him. He was lying on his back in the comfort and safety of the dimly lit hospital wing at Hogwarts and it was wrong. It was so wrong. Like everything since… since…
He closed his eyes again and sucked in a breath.
“Don’t you dare go back to sleep!”
Harry knew that voice and the acidic tone with which it spoke.
“Sod off Malfoy.” He croaked as he rested an arm over his eyes.
“Oh. No. You. Don’t!”
The blanket that was covering Harry’s only half pyjama clad form was yanked off the bed and the cool night air settled on him like a cold hand across his chest. Stiffly Harry rolled onto his side and curled his knees up.
He had no idea how the Slytherin had got into the hospital ward, and didn’t care to know, but he did know why the other boy was there, and Harry found he no longer cared about that either. He closed his eyes to the outside, unconcerned if he never opened them again.
“Potter. Get up!” Malfoy whispered hoarsely as he walked around the bed until he was standing in front of Harry.
Harry ignored the Slytherin but Hermione’s accusing, lifeless form seemed burned into the back of his eyelids and with a sinking feeling, he decided he couldn’t look at it anymore. He opened his eyes slowly, scowling at his own cowardice, and stared blankly at nothing in front of him.
An impatient huff came from Malfoy. “Its already past ten. We have to get moving.”
Harry didn’t move.
Nothing he did made anything better. Maybe if he stayed here and didn’t move at all then his friends would be safe. Maybe if he stayed here long enough he wouldn’t have any friends to worry about keeping safe.
Maybe then no one else would have to die.
One of the hospital wings metal chairs was scraped noisily into view. Malfoy then threw an invisibility cloak over one of its arms and dropped into it. He lifted a knee to rest his foot up on the edge of Harry’s bed before sprawling back and raking a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. He was quiet for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. Harry’s gaze was drawn to him long enough to take in the Slytherin green pullover and black pants the boy was clad in and the weary, uncertain look on his face. Harry looked away to stare at nothing again.
“I hope this isn’t going to take long.” Malfoy deadpanned. “I have plans at midnight.”
Harry almost closed his eyes again at Malfoy’s attempt at humour. But the fact that the Slytherin tried to make light of the pain the boy suffered nightly only tugged at the pit of his stomach. Only the thoughts of seeing her again kept them open. He was so tired of the pain – of his own, and of everyone else’s.
“Look.” Malfoy sighed again and looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably. “Neither of us is any good at this Potter. So why don’t we skip the part where I act convincingly like I care, bypass the whole woeful outpouring of Gryffindor sentimentality that, Merlin forbid, we both know I don’t have a hope of tolerating without taking the mickey, and you just come right out and tell me exactly what it’ll take to get you off that bed and out of the dump of self pity you are currently wallowing in. Because – quite frankly – it’s boring and it's selfish and I don’t have the bloody time for it.”
Harry should have felt mild shock and would normally be affronted at Malfoy’s words, and yet he remained unmoved. It was going to take a lot more than Malfoy’s lack of tact to pierce his numbness.
It must have become clear to Draco that Harry had no intention of continuing on with their plans tonight, because the Slytherin’s casual façade shattered suddenly. He kicked out his foot; jarring the bed Harry was lying on and sending his chair skidding backwards. Harry was jolted out of his revere while Malfoy leapt to his feet and lunged forward, grabbing Harry’s arm and yanking the wary-eyed Gryffindor up to bring their faces within inches of each other.
“You pick tonight of all nights to give up!” Draco hissed through his teeth. He searched Harry’s face impatiently and then tightened his grip. “I know what you need Potter. Revenge.”
Before Harry could gather his wits he was thrust backward onto the bed again. Malfoy turned and stalked away. Harry lifted himself onto his elbows with difficulty, still incredibly stiff and sore from the poisonous sap and watched as the Slytherin stopped beside a bed some way down and opposite. The angry blonde drew his wand and pointed it at the unconscious sandy haired Hufflepuff that lay oblivious in the sheets.
“No!” Harry croaked out, not at all certain what Malfoy had in store for Smith. He thought he ought to keep the seething Slytherin from doing something that Harry would surely regret.
Malfoy looked over his shoulder disgustedly at Harry. “He has to pay for what he did. It’s the only way you’ll be free of that pointless and emasculating guilt that you’re infested with.” The Slytherin reached forward and grabbed a fist full of Sandy hair, yanking the other boy’s head up so he was in a sitting position. He snarled at Harry. “And if you won’t do it, I will. I need you on your feet tonight, Potter. I cannot afford you to be weakened by self loathing and pity.”
Then suddenly a yellow flash darted from Malfoy’s wand and Smith gasped in a breath of air, clutching at his chest, his eyes remaining eerily closed.
Harry swung himself onto the side of his bed, ignoring the sharp pains coming from his stiff limbs. “What did you do?” He demanded.
Smith sagged again, the weight of his torso only being held up by Malfoy’s grip on his hair.
“A little pick me up. Guaranteed to break through most common sedatives.” Draco eyed Smith with interest. “It’s a tad painful, bit of a shock to the system, but nothing a pure-blooded traitor like Smith here couldn’t handle.” Malfoy pulled Smiths head up higher and grinned malevolently as it hung forward. “Dear oh me, some people just can’t get up in the mornings.”
Before Harry verbally protested, he was wincing at the effects of another yellow flash Malfoy sent Smiths way. Smith’s eyes flew wide open and he drew in a rattled breath that sounded like it could be his last, his arms still clutched at his chest. Harry suspected the only thing keeping Smith from falling backwards onto the bed was Malfoy’s unyielding grasp of his hair.
“Malfoy! Let him go.” Harry ground out, finally managing to work his way off the edge of the bed onto his feet.
“You don’t need to worry about being found out. I put a silencing charm on the doors when Poopy Pomphrey left. Oh Come on Potter. You know what he did as well as I do. I was here when they were trying to mend you. He’s a traitor. A blood traitor but also a double-crosser who betrayed his own side – hell, his own girlfriend – at the first sign of trouble.” Malfoy yanked Smiths head back so the boys face was tilted towards him. Smith was panting and dazed from his rude awakening, and growing more frightened by the second.
Malfoy’s lip curled dangerously in distaste as he moved in closer to the scared boy.
“Do you know what my side does to traitors?” The Slytherins voice hissed dark and threatening. Not waiting for an answer he continued on slowly, relishing the other boys fear. “They peel the skin from you body, layer by layer, magically so you don’t pass out from the pain and horror, and then they just walk away and leave you.” Malfoy moved his head round so he was speaking with soft venom into Smiths ear. Zach was shaking so badly the metal bars on the bed were rattling. “Do you know why? Why they don’t torture you further? Because skin is the bodies largest organ, and when it’s simply taken away, all of your other organs begin to shut down from shock.”
A change was slowly coming over the Slytherin as he spoke. The malicious bravado was gradually being overcast with repulsion. “They say you can feel your outer flesh shrivelling as it dries out. But not the face. A lipless mouth tends to drool rather a lot, and the salt in the tears that leak from raw, sagging eyes, burns like acid as it drips. It’s slow and agonizing… And the worst suffering you can imagine before you die…” Malfoy’s expression was laced with pain and bitterness as he trailed off.
Smith let out a whimper and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Clear wet drops fell down his flushed and anguished cheeks.
“Malfoy. That’s enough. Let him go.” Harry said croakily under his breath, sickened by what he had just heard.
Malfoy glanced round at Harry and then back at the pitiful Smith and then he finally let the boy go, his sneer plastered back in its usual place. Harry rested his full weight on his feet and stood for a moment to get his balance. He took a tentative step to the bedside cabinet and grabbed his glasses before pushing them up his nose and picking up his wand, feeling somewhat more secure in Malfoy’s presence now it was in his hand. Then he turned slowly and began lifting himself back onto the bed.
“What the hell are you doing? Why are you getting back into bed?”
Harry sighed and without meeting the incredulous stare he was sure to be getting from Malfoy, he rearranged the bed covers and settled back against the propped up pillows.
“Potter!” Malfoy spat. “Did I not make myself clear? Shake off this quagmire you’re stuck in and hex Smith until he’s the slobbering blob he deserves to be and you feel better. Then we can go.”
Smith made a keening noise.
“I’m not going anywhere Malfoy.” Harry pushed his hands up under his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “Don’t you get it? Hermione’s… They’re all dead or dying, and I don’t want … to know about it anymore. I don’t want to… to be the cause … anymore.”
Zach started mumbling incoherently in the background, rocking back and forth on the bed, clutching at himself as Malfoy advanced on Harry.
“You are a part of this whether you want to be or not. You always have been and always will! And you’re not the only one so stop being so weak and pathetic.” The Slytherins face twisted angrily. “You should count yourself lucky! Not all of us have a Secret Society and Ministry officials covering our backs. I haven’t exactly been served a dish full of dancing Veelas either. But did I give up when…” Malfoy stopped and struggled to get the words out. “When my mother died.”
Harry recognized that Malfoy wasn’t associating his mother’s death with the truth. Murder by Voldemort. Maybe that’s how he managed to still serve his Dark Lord.
“Of course not!” The Slytherin continued. “And you. You’re The Chosen One.” He mocked with his lip curled. “Oh… but of course. How terribly insensitive of me. It must be insufferable to have a world full of hero worshippers fawning all over you and jumping to your every need. Over protective mobs racing you off to the hospital wing whenever you do no more than stub your big toe. It must be the absolute pits to have a world of people at your fingertips ready to help you – fight for you – take you in and…” He mouthed without sound for a moment in search of more words and then said even louder. “The difference between you and me is that they mistakenly see you as the saviour of the wizarding world, while its people like me that are really trying to preserve it!”
Zach gave another whimper at Malfoy’s raised voice and continued to murmur something over and over again that neither of them could understand. (Not that they were listening. They had both sunk into eyeing each other off challengingly like they had habitually ended up doing since they were eleven years old.)
“One day they’ll understand.” The Slytherin narrowed his eyes, his passion clearly visible. “One day they’ll see what it means to allow fools like Dumbledore to make the rules. Muggles will never accept wizards. They fear our magic, they fear our spoken word, and they even fear that we live longer than them. Its jealousy – nothing nobler – and muggles destroy everything they fear and envy. If we don’t do something now there’ll be no more wizards left to–”
“PUT A CORK IN IT MALFOY! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SAYING THAT THAT CRAZED PSYCO TOM RIDDLE – THE ONE THAT PUTS YOU THROUGH HELL NIGHT AFTER NIGHT – IS YOUR ANSWER?” Harry’s outburst had surprised even himself, but he was so sick of hearing Malfoy’s oblivious hypocrisy.
“He’s the only one powerful enough to do anything about it.” The Slytherin said quietly, avoiding Harry’s glare. “I trust Fathers judgment.”
“This would be the same Lucius Malfoy that placed a dangerous book into eleven year old Ginny Weasley’s hands – a pureblood remember – so that the entire ‘impure’ student body could be systematically wiped out? Only she told Riddle about me, didn’t she? And in his infinite wisdom he was no longer content to just lie and manipulate Ginny and kill hundreds of kids – sorry – mudbloods. He abandoned ‘the noble cause’ for consuming her soul, leaving her for dead so he could have another go at me, a near-powerless twelve year old, all because he learned I had somehow almost killed him when I was one.” Harry watched as Draco’s expression faltered into an uncertain frown. “Funny how he can ignore his ‘noble calling’ without a second thought when he thinks his own existence is under threat.”
Harry had Malfoy hooked. The Slytherin was listening in spite of himself. Harry continued, taking full advantage of the moment.
“I don’t imagine he looks too kindly on his Death Eaters valuing their own lives as much. It’s probably in some Death Eater handbook somewhere that you have to sacrifice yourself ‘honourably’ for your fellow pure-blooded comrades future glory. Still, I suppose it makes sense that Voldemort wouldn’t have to hold to that – having a muggle father and all.” Harry heard the hiss from Malfoy but continued on as if he hadn’t. “Of course Voldemort would like everyone to believe he’s warring for pureblood supremacy, but that’s hardly likely since he’s a halfblood, don’t you think? But your father must know all about it. He wouldn’t be gullible enough to commit his whole family into the service of the darkest wizard of all time without being certain of Voldemorts agenda. Your father is surely smart enough to know the real reason Voldemort needs his Death Eaters.”
Harry’s gaze drifted over Malfoy’s decidedly pale face. The Slytherin was frowning in quiet fury and confusion, reflecting his inner turmoil as he stewed over what he had just been told. It was almost enough to make Harry wish it wasn’t too late to care whether or not he’d made a difference. “Anyway.” Harry said resignedly, pulling the blanket back around him. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t want to hear any more of your Death Eater ‘Youth Training’. I don’t care about any of it anymore.”
This seemed to bring Draco out of his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes and sneered. “Of course you care… or you wouldn’t be behaving like such a coward!”
“What?”
“You finally lose someone close to you and you-you can’t stomach it anymore!”
“F-Finally? …” Harry blustered in disbelief but he was not prepared to get into the long list of people he’d lost so he went on the attack. “Hermione’s dead you sodding insensitive prat! DEAD! She died because I couldn’t save her!” Oh no no no no no… Harry could feel the salty sting prickling at his eyes and he did not want to do this in front of Malfoy. He whipped his glasses off and lifted his palms up to his eyes. He was not ready to open these floodgates. Maybe he would never be ready. Maybe if he started crying for Hermione, he’d never stop. Just drown in the tears like in his dream.
“It’s always the same story with you, isn’t it Potter? Oh what?” Malfoy bit out impatiently over his shoulder as Zach’s mantra became more urgent. “What are you on about Smith?”
“She’s not d-dead.”
The Slytherin turned to face the distressed Hufflepuff. “The mudblood?”
Harry dropped his hands away from his face where they had been pressing in violently in an effort to hold back his grief and stared at Zach.
“Sh-she’s not dead.” He stumbled out. “Just … knocked out.”
Harry slipped off the bed and began walking stiffly towards Zach, barely even registering the pain caused by his movement. “But… but there was a green light. The killing curse … I saw it.”
“Snape.” Zach sobbed as Malfoy approached, watching on in interest. “One of them went to fire the k-killing curse… at me …and he shot the wand out of their hand… just in time. It barely missed me.”
“Snape did that?” Malfoy demanded, frowning intently as the other boy nodded. “How do you know it was him?”
“I didn’t – not for certain – until his mask came off when Harry hit him with a stun.”
Malfoy didn’t let up, now seeming as interested in what happened as Harry, who was temporarily struck dumb, afraid to speak in case Hermione’s reprieve was broken.
“So Snape didn’t kill Granger but he took her with him?”
Zach nodded at Malfoy and wiped the back of his pyjama sleeve across his wet face, sucking in air to catch his breath. “He stunned her. Knocked her out. He wouldn’t tell me why he wanted her, just-just that I had to do as I was told or they’d come for my family next.”
“How did you get her out of The Three Broomsticks?” Harry asked grimly in a sudden need to know the details. He finally allowed a tentative relief to wash through him.
The Hufflepuff had the decency to look ashamed. “Snape appeared at my house a week ago. He said they knew about our relationship and that I was to insist on meeting with her to break it off. Then he gave me something to put in her drink – a Confundus powder I think – and told me to lead her to the forest out by Shady Lane.”
Malfoy was now level with Harry and both of them were frowning intently at Smith, and going by the panicked glint in Zach’s eye as he flicked his glance between the two young men, they must have looked a formidable pair standing side by side united against a common enemy; Zach…
“Er… ak!” Zach shrivelled back under their heavy gazes into the headboard with his knees hugged protectively to him and began twisting his hands and mumbling under his breath that they couldn’t harm him for trying to protect his family… no way, Of course not… They wouldn’t…
“Well.” The Slytherin said with bright impatience. “Now there’s no excuse, Potter.” He lifted his wand and flicked it carelessly at Zach. The boy’s eyes rolled back in his head and it flopped back with a hard thump onto the headboard, passed out cold. “Can we go now?”
“What did you do that for?” Harry asked angrily, eyeing the unconscious Hufflepuff.
“You don’t want him to know what we’re up to do you?” Malfoy said, dismissing Harry’s concern with a wave of his hand. “Besides, if he was awake he’d be calling Madame Pomphrey in here demanding room service and then we’d have to deal with her too.”
“You know, you wave that thing at people way too casually for my liking. Have you ever tried talking to people, reasoning with them?” Harry asked, eyeing the Slytherins wand warily as he headed in search of his clothes.
Malfoy looked surprised as he raised an eyebrow. “Reason with them Potter? Why on earth would I bother? We’re finally going then?”
Harry nodded and delicately picked up his jeans, wincing at the sharp pain in his neck and arm and leg and … well pretty much everywhere. “I have to make a stop on the way though.”
“What? No! There isn’t time.” The Slytherin protested.
“I’m not leaving Ron believing Hermione’s dead. So save your breath. We see him first – then we’ll go to McGonagall’s office.” Harry held up a hand as Malfoy opened his mouth scowling. “And turn around so I can get changed.”
The Slytherin’s expression suddenly changed and gone were any traces of anger and impatience. He lowered himself onto the edge on Harry’s bed looking in the opposite direction and plucked at the corners of the pillow lightly. “You could give me the passwords we’ll need up there then I could get started while you’re busy petting a morose and leaky weasel.” (He shuddered)
Harry sent the back of the blonde’s head a warning look and started awkwardly dressing. “We’re going together – or not at all.” He warned the Slytherin grimly. There was no way he was going to let Malfoy loose in the Head’s office to pick his way through Dumbledore’s pensive and precious memories. Who knows what he’s left in there?
“Just a thought.” The Slytherin answered casually, yet there was a vague undertone of defensiveness. Harry frowned to himself. Surely Malfoy didn’t think that the last two days changed everything between them? Certainly they had seen another side to one another, but ultimately, neither of them was about to change who they are – Malfoy least of all. Harry only had to see him with Zach a moment ago to know that.
~*~*~*~*~
It was slow and painful going for Harry trying to get up to the Gryffindor tower. Malfoy seemed twitchy and agitated at the amount of time that was passing, knowing he was going to have to get back to the Slytherin common room before midnight. Although the fact that they were both squeezed under Malfoy’s invisibility cloak, unavoidably rubbing shoulders and thighs in an effort to stay hidden could have been said to antagonize the blonde further, it wasn’t doing much for Harry’s comfort either.
Malfoy stopped grumbling and kept his mouth shut while Harry poked his head out at the Fat Lady. Tapping his wand on her frame a couple of times to wake her up, he gave her the password and speedily grabbed the frame as it swung open before the tired pink-clad woman dropped off again and it closed leaving them still on the wrong side of the door. Once inside and surrounded by the deep reds of the furnishings and the golden glow from the lamps and the fireplace, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and took a quick look around. Seamus and Dean were sprawled on the large couch before the fire and Pansy was huddled in a secretive chat with Crabbe and Goyle in what had unofficially become the Slytherin corner of the common room.
Harry slipped off the cloak carefully; expecting Malfoy to stay covered and made his way over to Seamus and Dean. They both wore the same punctured expression that went with their deflated bodies. They looked up as Harry eased himself up to lean on the couch. The walk had left him feeling very wobbly indeed and he was glad to have something to rest against.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Said Seamus in concern. “You look bloody awful.”
Dean wriggled forward into an upright position so he could see Harry better. “Seam’s right. You look like the walking dead. You should be resting back in hospital. There’s nothing you can do up here, mate.”
“Listen.” Seamus began, a sombre tone to his voice. “We really don’t know what to say…”
“Yeah.” Dean’s voice cracked and his eyes looked excessively watery. “I still can’t believe it, you know?”
“Ron.” Was all Harry managed to croakily get out before Seamus jerked his thumb up the stairs.
“He’s in the room, with Ginny.”
“He’s taken it pretty bad.” Dean added cautiously. “He needed company, but not the sort me or Seamus can give, so we’re dossing down here for the night. Ginny’s taken your bed.”
Harry nodded at Dean and let go of the couch, swaying and shaking as he turned and made his way to the stairs.
“Harry.”
He tossed a look over his shoulder at Dean.
“You really ought to go back to Madame Pomphrey’s mate. There’s nout you can do and you don’t even look like you’ll make it up the stairs.”
“Of course he will.” Came a clipped voice. They all turned to see Malfoy who had discarded the cloak and had been huddled with Pansy and co. He was straightening from the table and heading over to Harry with raised eyebrows. “I can levitate you if you like?”
Not on your life!
“Er… um… no, really. I’m fine. Really.” Harry couldn’t imagine anything worse than being at Malfoy’s mercy at the end of his wand. If anything clarified what sort of relationship the two boys had in the last few days, it was Harry’s unwillingness to trust Malfoy as far as he could safely toss a fully-grown blast-ended Skrewt.
Malfoy smirked as he joined Harry at the foot of the stairs. “You Gryffindors are supposed to be all trusting and noble, aren’t you?”
“Trusting and noble, we are.” Harry said as he started the agonizing ascent. “Blithering idiots, we’re not.”
“Doesn’t say much for our new found friendship, now does it?” Malfoy cocked an eyebrow and placed a hand under Harry’s arm to help propel him along a little faster.
“Speaks volumes really.” Harry replied without meeting the blonde’s eye as he limped and winced his way along. “It might surprise you to learn, considering you see me as some dopey senseless underachiever smothered by a hero complex with no idea how I even get up in the morning let alone blunder my way through escaping your Dark Lord time and time again, that I actually have enough Slytherin in me to recognize an extraordinarily risky offer made by you Malfoy – The Slytherin Personified.”
Malfoy snorted and genuinely smiled in amusement as he shook his head. “You have about as much Slytherin in you’re whole body as I do in my little finger. Less, in fact.”
“Tell that to the sorting hat, since I had to fight with it to stay out of Slytherin.” Harry stopped at Malfoy’s barefaced incredulous start. “You should speak with Pansy about being to quick to label people.”
Malfoy growled. “Where do you think she got it from in the first place? That dosey cow doesn’t have a single thought of her own. The perfect girlfriend really.” He added in realization.
“Is there anyone you know that you have a kind word to say about?” Harry asked grumpily.
Malfoy smirked as he searched Harry’s face. Then he grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him forward again. “Come on.” They didn’t stop again until they reached Harry’s dorm room.
“You stay out here.”
“I’ve no desire to see the Weasel blubbing over his mudblood.” The Slytherin’s lip curled in distaste but it lacked its usual venom. “But get on with it. We’ve wasted too much time already!”
Harry turned his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breathe before knocking lightly on the door. He waited a moment but no sound could be heard from within and when he shot a look at Malfoy, the other boy was flicking his head, urging him to go in. Harry sighed and opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit room and closing the door quietly behind him.
Ron was not in bed asleep as he’d imagined, but sitting up at one of the windows, silhouetted by the almost full moon. He didn’t turn to face Harry as he crossed the room, though a slight shift in his arms hugging tightly to his knees let Harry know the red head knew he was there.
“Ron…” Harry said quietly and moved until he was as in-front of his best friend as he could get. He gratefully took purchase of the sills opposite edge, perching himself there and trying to calm down his shakes. He leaned forward to try and draw Ron’s eyes from the emptiness beyond the window. “She’s not dead.”
At first Ron didn’t react. Maybe he had already closed off to whatever it was that Harry might have been going to say. Harry could understand him not wanting to hear any more damning admissions or explanations, or worse, apologies that only drove Hermione’s death home even further. So Harry watched and waited, and when Ron finally turned his head very slowly away from the window and met Harry’s gaze, Harry leaned in even further to make sure it got through this time and spoke in a low voice. “She’s not dead, Ron. They didn’t kill her. Hermione’s alive. Snape took her alive.”
Ron sat as still as rock for a moment, and then his breathing suddenly became heavy as he continued to stare at Harry. A small sob came from off to the side where Harry’s own bed was. He turned to see Ginny sitting up and watching them silently with silvery streaks glistening down her cheeks. She climbed out of bed and wordlessly walked to Harry, leaning into his chest and letting him embrace her in his arms that trembled as he tried to tighten his grip around her.
“Are-are you…” Harry looked up at Ron’s attempted question. “H-how do you know?”
“Smith.” Harry said. “Malfoy woke him up and he told us what happened. The Avada curse was meant for him. They wanted Hermione alive.”
“Snape took Hermione alive.” Ron’s voice suddenly changed. He seemed unable to allow himself any real relief over the news and now his face curled in bitter anger. “Snape.” He said the name like he was spitting poison. Harry could guess the next lot of questions out of his best friends mouth. Harry was the one who’d had recent dealings with Snape and had even had to trust him with certain things, like helping Malfoy for instance, but Harry did not want to have to sit through the onslaught and accusations right now, when he was feeling just as betrayed and had no answers either.
Ron was opening his mouth to start his rant when the door opened and Malfoy strolled in. Ron’s attention was immediately diverted to the blonde and Harry was actually thankful he’d disobeyed Harry’s order to stay put.
“You’ve molly-coddled your followers enough. Let’s go.”
In his weakened state, Harry almost missed catching hold of Ron in an effort to stop him using Malfoy as a punching bag to de-stress on.
“Malfoy.” Harry said wearily as he continued to hold a shaky arm across Ron’s chest, barring his way. “I think you should leave.”
“Why?” He asked coyly. “So you can all talk about me behind my back?” He pouted ridiculously and slipped both of his hands in his pockets, slouching against Harry’s bedpost.
“What have they done with her?” Ron bellowed too close to Harry at Malfoy. Harry winced and eased away, waggling a finger in his right ear.
“How should I know Weasel? I’ve been here at Hogwarts haven’t I?” The Slytherin replied lazily.
“Bollocks!” Ron barked. “You and Snape are thick as thieves and he’s the one that’s got her. You know Malfoy! I know you do.” Suddenly Ron lunged forward and fisted the front of Malfoy’s jumper, yanking the blonde’s face closer to his. “And you’re not leaving here until you spill everything you know.” Ron threatened.
“Ron, he was just as surprised about Snape as we are. I was there when Smith told him and he even questioned Smith himself what Snape was doing there.” Harry interjected calmly.
Ron eyed Malfoy who merely flicked his tightly set jaw up in a move to indicate agreement. The Slytherin still looked calm and composed with his hands still in his pockets, but Harry could see the long line of the boys wand already in hand under the fabric and the glint of fear and adrenalin in his eyes. He needed to diffuse this situation fast.
“Snape obviously wanted Hermione alive specifically.” Harry went on quickly. “It couldn’t have been as bait to get to me because I was right there. The whole exercise would have become pointless and they could have taken me there and then but they didn’t.”
Ron’s grip was loosening slightly and Malfoy edged back where he could without seeming like he was.
“There’s got to be a reason Snape wants her. And the sooner we figure it out, the sooner we can start looking for her.”
At Harry’s words, Ron released Malfoy completely and turned his attention on Harry and Ginny. Malfoy adjusted his jumper with one hand and leaned back against the bedpost, his wand hand never leaving the pocket.
“Why her though Harry?” Ron asked, a pained expression on his face as he wracked his brain. “How are we ever going to figure out why Snape took her? She’s just a school kid. Merlin I wish she were here. Its time like this we need her. She’s always been the smart one.”
“Exactly.” Ginny said tonelessly. They all looked at her and she shrugged, her eyes still red and puffy, flicked between them. “Well, she is. And Snape knows it. Without her, getting in and out of the next stronghold alive will be almost impossible. I mean, you couldn't have got the last Horc–”
Three sets of eyes suddenly widened in shock, while one pair narrowed.
Ginny had only just managed to stop herself from giving away to Malfoy what Harry, Ron and Hermione had been doing for months now. She looked mortified as she clamped a hand over her mouth, but at least she had managed to stop herself in time. But that was now the least of her problems.
Ron’s mouth gaped open and Harry turned a furious glare on her after he darted a look at Malfoy. How could she know what they had been doing? She had always been aware that something was going on, but she’d never been privy to the details. Yet somehow, she had just made it known that she was fully in the loop about past happenings, and hang on a minute – how does she know they’ll need Hermione to get to the last Horcrux when they have no clue as to what it is – let alone where to find it?
Ginny began to shrink under Harry’s piercing glare. They would need to have a talk. A talk? They needed more than a little chat to get this all out in the open, but with Malfoy here, and Harry on a mission, now was not the time. Harry could have roared aloud in frustration. What had Ginny been up to?
“H-h-h-how…”
“Not now Ron,” Harry cut off the stunned and semi-speechless Ron, still frowning intently. He flicked his head in Malfoy’s direction and Ron closed his mouth and swallowed. It was then that Harry noticed Malfoy’s demeanour had completely changed. He was no longer slouching and eyeing them all in disinterest; he was standing rigid and intensely eyeing three Gryffindors expressions. But he said nothing.
“Er… Malfoy and I have to… go.” Harry trailed off as he began walking to the door.
“Snape would not have gone to Hogsmeade in broad daylight to abduct Granger just because she’s the smart one out of you three.”
Harry, Ron and Ginny stared at Malfoy blankly. No one had expected him to offer any sort of opinion on the matter, certainly not one that appeared to be trying to be helpful.
Malfoy sighed exaggeratedly. “Think about it. Firstly, if that’s all they wanted to do – hinder your progress in whatever it is you’re doing – then killing her would take far less planning and manpower – much easier. And why Snape? A high-ranking Death Eater, not to mention one of the most wanted men around. He killed your beloved Dumbledore who, lets face it, has more allies than The Dark Lord has enemies. It’s risky for him to show up in Hogsmeade. Very risky.”
“So what are you saying?” Harry asked cautiously.
Malfoy shrugged a shoulder. “I’d guess that Snape needed Hermione. For something important. Something worth the risk. And its not you, Potter. Like you said, you were there, they could have taken you – but they didn’t. What’s she been working on?”
The question was directed at Harry, but Ginny answered.
“No one knows. She’s been holed up in her room night after night ever since we got back to Hogwarts. She hasn’t told any of us what she was doing.”
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “If it was me, and I’d just lost my best friend – forgetting the fact that I’d never have a mudblood as an actual friend, let alone a best one – then I’d be looking to find out what she’d been up to before she disappeared.”
Harry and Ron exchanged looks.
“I’ll check her room.” Ginny volunteered. “I’ll try tonight, but it might have to be in the morning. Lavender was pretty upset about… well, you know.”
“I’m coming with you.” Ron said flatly.
“You can’t.” Ginny said hesitantly. “Boys can’t get into–”
“I’ll fly.” And with that, Ron dug his broom out of his trunk and headed to the door.
“Oh, all right. But I’d better go and warn Lavender. She’s likely to hex your ears off if you just go bursting in there. Especially after what’s happened.”
“I’ll see you both later then.” Harry said quietly as he opened the door and waited for Malfoy to go through before him.
As the two of them descended the spiral stairs Harry almost felt like he was going into the Gladiators ring. He knew there was going to be confrontation tonight, he’d known it for days, but as the time drew nearer to getting to the memory in the pensieve, an awful dread was gathering, hanging over him like a black thunder cloud.
As they stepped back into the common room, Pansy rushed up to Draco and whispered urgently and Draco swore loudly. A second later his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his right hand gripped his left forearm as he dropped to his knees with a gutteral moan.
~*~*~*~*~
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If You'd Like A Sig...I'm Your Guy...............................
)
wow lol
but the surprises are cheap presents,nothin expensive lol 
and that's enough for me
Nimbus
but ill just save up for those maself
