Harry Potter and His Witches
By: Shinteo5
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, mates. It's good to hear such good stuff from you guys! Someone said I need a beta-reader. May I ask how that works? I never had one before.
I hope that you'll enjoy this new chapter as well.
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Chapter 1:
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July 1, 1997
Well, it's time at last. After a month training and pain and teaching, it is time to take my revenge against that dratted fool, Harry Potter.
When I first arrived with professor Snape, I was weak, unsure. I was unable to complete my mission. I failed the Dark Lord. I failed to kill that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore.
The Dark Lord was not pleased. Pain. Agony. The Dark Lord used the Crucio Curse on me. I screamed, fire in my veins, knives cutting into me. Greater pain I had not known. It seemed to last forever. Pain upon pain upon pain, it all came crushing down on me...
At long last, My Lord lifted the spell, and commanded professor Snape to bring me away, to 'retrain him in a manner befitting the son of a Death Eater', or so My Lord put it.
I was barely able to stand, let alone walk. Professor Snape pulled me onto my feet, and dragged me out of the cavern that the Dark Lord used to meet with his Death Eaters. I remembered seeing my mother, her face as white as chalk, in a corner of the cavern. Strange, why did she look so fearful and afraid?
Thus began my training. Everything that I had learned before was as nothing compared to the spells that I'm learning now... I briefly wondered why my father did not teach me all these. Spells to cause pain, spells to cause death. Spells to control the living, and the death. Potions that could kill in an instant, potions that would make living as hell on earth. With every spell I cast and every potion I used, whether the people I used them on were willing or not, I can feel my heart harden. At first I was unwilling and hesitate to do it, but with every time I succeeded in casting the spells, I found myself caring lesser and lesser.
Ah, here comes Aunt Bella. I must be time... The Dark Lord had somehow sensed that Potter is no longer within the protection of Hogwarts, and had commanded me to get ready to capture Potter. Surprisingly, my mother wanted to come as well. I wonder why...
No mater. This is my one chance to redeem myself. To earn back the favor of the Dark Lord. This time I will not fail. I dare not fail.
I will capture Harry Potter, or die trying...
Draco Malfoy
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Tom was cleaning up his tavern, the Leaky Cauldron, when the fire suddenly roared and neatly deposited three teenagers, one after another, on the floor, almost by his feet. He was so surprised by this that all he could do was to blink somewhat foolishly as the teens struggle to untangle themselves.
"Well, this is a surprise, I must say." He managed at last to say. "Don't think I ever had customers this late before," He lifted his eyes to check the clock behind the bar. "Or early, depending on your views on hours of the night..."
"I'm sorry," A mess of brown hair replied, as Hermione pulled off one of the boy's leg from her stomach and sat up. "We didn't mean to disturb you this late."
"Oh, think nothing of it, lass." Tom laughed. "You've just given me an excuse to stop work for a moment. Sit down. I'll get you something to drink." He propped his mop against the wooden counter and walked round to his bar. "Is butterbeer ok with you guys?"
"Oh yes." Ron answered, grinning widely. "And something to eat too, if you don't mind."
"Of course." Tom laughed again as he dropped a couple of bottles of butterbeer and three glasses onto a nearby table and disappeared behind his bar again. "I should have thought of it myself. Is sandwiches ok with you lot?"
"Sure." Harry replied, picking himself off the floor now that Ron had gotten off him. He sat down at the table with the butterbeer and started pouring a glass for each of them. "Sandwiches sounds perfect. Thanks!"
"You're welcome," Tom answered as he walked back into the room, a platter filled with sandwiches floated before him. "Besides, that's all that I have at this time of the night. Hope you don't mind leftovers."
"Of course not." Ron plopped himself onto a chair and reached out an arm for a sandwich. "I'm staving."
"You're always hungry." Hermione laughed, sitting herself and pulling a glass of warm butterbeer towards her. "Thanks Harry."
"Harry?" Tom paused, the patter dropping onto the table with a loud clutter. His eyes flicked upwards to the lightning shaped scar that was the trademark of the Boy-who-lived. "Mr. Potter! What are you doing out so late at night."
"Nothing." Harry nervously flatten his fringe over his scar, wishing, not for the first time, that he did not have such an distinguish mark. He shot an angry glance at Hermione, who had the grace to look embarrassed.
"Alright, I'm not asking anymore." Tom said with a smile. After all, one does not to be a barkeep without learning to keep one's mouth shut. "And I've not seen you at all tonight." He winked at Harry, who smiled gratefully in return. The ability to see beneath the surface is also a very helpful ability after all. "You'll be wanting rooms then?"
"Yes please." Hermione replied as Harry nodded, his mouth busy with a sandwich. Ron did not appear to hear the question, engrossed as he is with stuffing his face with the sandwiches. "Just for the night."
"Ah, it's a lucky thing that I have a room available tonight." Tom beamed, pulling out his wand and flickering it at their packs and starting up the stairs, packs following obediently. "Room eleven. You still remember where it is, Mr. Potter?"
"Yeah, I remember." Harry nodded, his mind flashing back to his third year, when he had stayed at this very inn too.
"Good." Tom's voice drifted down as the last pack bumped it's way upstairs.
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"Wakey, wakey, Potter."
Harry turned in his bed, certain that he's still sleeping and dreaming. After all only in his nightmares would he hear this voice. The voice that has hunted him since the Ministry mission. The voice he hated above all else...
"Wake up, Potter! You don't want to miss this..."
Something is prodding him. Something rounded. Something that feels like...
Harry's eyes snapped open at once, instantly recognizing the shape of the thing that had poked him. He rolled off the bed, his hand sweeping under his pillow for his wand... Or rather, he tried to. Belatedly, he realized that his hands and feet were bound together, before his rolling motion off the bed succeeded in crashing him onto the floor.
"Looking for this, Potter?" A foot kicked his side, before pushing his shoulder, flopping him on to his back. Harry growled, staring up at the person who had kicked him, who was holding his wand, dangling it between two fingers, shaking it almost in his face. The one person that he hated most...
"Bellatrix..."
"Oh, so the great Harry Potter remembers me. I'm honored." Bellatrix gave a fake bow, mocking smile on her lips.
"What have you done to my friends?" Harry snarled, anger rising in him as he fought his bonds.
"The mudblood? Or the weasel, Potter?" Another hated voice. But different from the last time he heard it. Colder, harder.
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, redoubling his efforts to escape. "You keep you filthy hands off them, you bastard!"
A thump, as something landed on his bed. As he watched, Hermione's head, bounded and gagged, appeared, dragged by the hair by Malfoy over the side of the bed. A second thump and Malfoy's face appeared beside her.
"Or you'll do what, Potter?" He taunted, touching his cheek to Hermione's. Slowly Malfoy's tongue reached out, licking at the helpless tears that streamed down Hermione's eyes. "I think I'll enjoy this..."
"Get off her, you bustard!" Harry raged helpless, unable to free himself despite his best efforts.
"That's enough, Draco." Another person, this time unfamiliar, though Harry was sure that he had heard it somewhere before. A tall woman appeared in Harry's line of sight, her face pale, and her lips pressed close, like thin wire. She was holding Ron, also tussled up like a chicken, with a grip like iron, though he was struggling with all his might too. "You can have fun later."
"Awwa, Mum!" Malfoy protested, but the stern look that his mother sent him made him close his mouth. "Fine, whatever." And Malfoy and Hermione disappeared from view, to appear again beside his mother, Hermione dragged along like luggage.
"Here, Bella. Hold him for me." With that, Malfoy's mother tipped Ron over to Bellatrix, who grabbed him by his hair.
"Cissy?"
"I need to check on him, Bella. If only to make sure you are not too... enthusiastic in binding Potter here..."
"Ah, yes. Potter..." Bellatrix almost whispered, licking her lips. "I confessed myself disappointed. We waited two whole hours downstairs, just to give you time to fall asleep, crept up with the utmost caution, with wands out, only to find that the room is not protected by anything at all. Did that fool Dumbledore not teach you even the most basic of protection and detection spells? I came looking for a challenge, and you disappointed me most dearly..."
"Dumbledore is not a fool!" Harry retorted angrily. But something else she said caught his attention. "Wait... Downstairs... What did you do to Tom?" A glimmer of hope appeared. If the innkeeper would appear now...
"Tom? The innkeeper?" Bellatrix answered with a short bark of laughter. "Why he's looking out to the streets, waiting for his customers, of course. What else is a innkeeper suppose to do?"
"If he comes up..." Harry did not complete his sentence before Bellatrix laughed again.
"Oh no he won't."
"What?"
"Memory charms are such useful spells, aren't they?" And Harry's hopes came crashing down.
"Enough talk." Malfoy's mother interrupted, finished with her diagnostic spells. "At least you did not break anything, Bella..."
"I wasn't that rough..." Bellatrix pouted, before laughing again. "I was saving it for later!"
"Can't tell with you..." Malfoy's mother murmured before raising her voice again. "Better go now, before anyone comes by these rooms."
"I'll go first then." Malfoy replied, an eager grin on his face. Somehow he had managed to drag all of their packs together and was now sitting on them, Hermione perched on his knees. "I can't wait to get started on her..." And his hands drifted up to lightly squeeze her breast. Hermione's tears started to fall again, as muffled protest escaped her mouth.
"Don't get too excited, Draco. The Dark Lord wants her untouched... for now!" Bellatrix replied, a matching grin on her face.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, Aunt Bella." Malfoy answered dismissingly, waving a hand in the air. "I'll restrain myself... for now!" With that, he pulled out a small disk, and disappeared with a pop.
"See you back at the Manor then, Cissy." Bellatrix said then, pulling out her own portkey. "And don't get started before me!" With a little wave, she disappeared as well.
Malfoy's mother sighed as an unseen tension drained away. She seemed to slump, as if whatever was holding her up was cut away, leaving her empty. She sighed again as she reached out, grabbing hold of Harry's shirt and pulling him upright. "Listen up, Potter. I haven't got much time."
"Wha...?"
"Listen!" Malfoy's mother snapped. "I need your help, and there's no time to argue."
"But..."
"If you want to save yourself, and your friends, listen to me!" She nearly shouted, wriggling her hands in her agitation. "I need your help to escape the Dark Lord, and I can't do that if you refuse to listen!"
"You need my help?"
"Yes, damn you. You're the only one that can help me now..." She sobbed, breaking down completely. "I can trust none of my friends, nor even my own sister..."
"But you can trust me?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but just then a buzzing sound was heard from within her cloak. Her hand disappeared inside her cloak, to reappear with a small disk like the one Malfoy used.
"Confound it all..." She cursed. "We have no time to speak now. I'll find a way to contact you later."
"What's happening?"
"I'll tell you later, Potter." She replied, swapping the ends of her cloak over her eyes, wiping away her tears, before tearing the edge off. "For now, remain silent!"
"But..."
"Silent!" She snarled, stuffing the torn end of her cloak into Harry's mouth with one hand, effectively shutting him up. With the other hand, she pressed the disk, activating the portkey.
In another second, the room was empty of people.