Harry was the first one to snap out of it—when the raven twisted around, pecked him, and shot out the still-open window. He drew out his wand, covered the finger with a handkerchief right on the desk where it lay, and conjured a pile of crushed ice on top of it. It was a muggle technique, completely unnecessary normally, but indispensable if the finger had been hacked off by dark magic. In all other cases, lost limbs could be regrown with potions.
Sirius tore the note out of Lucius's limp hand. The letters were cut out from a newspaper and glued onto the parchment in neat, precise rows. It smelled of fresh newsprint ink, cheap glue, and blood. Sirius winced.
In an hour. The old house of the Lord. If anything goes wrong you only have yourself to blame. Start flailing around and we cut something more substantial off your boy.
"What is it talking about?" Sirius asked.
Malfoy didn't answer, just bit his lips and stared out the window sightlessly.
"I'm getting the Aurors," said Harry.
"No!" Malfoy jumped up. "Potter, if my son is in any way at all dear to you, you will not go anywhere."
"But we can't just leave it!"
"I'll sort it all out myself. Sit down!"
Malfoy's hands were shaking.
"Leave off! Draco is not your property, he's my... Bloody hell, I love him!" Nevertheless, Harry stood still.
"Yes, yes. Just shut up."
"And why should I even..."
"Quit it, both of you!" Sirius came up to Harry and put his hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him down. "Malfoy, tell us what's going on. What do they want from you?"
"You read it yourself. They want me to come. It's not the first such note, Potter can confirm that, only the first with..." He sank into a chair heavily.
"And why do they need you so badly?"
"Take a guess. Payback, I'm thinking."
"So it's just your former mates amusing themselves?"
Malfoy drew himself up indignantly and glanced sideways at Harry.
"Possibly. Our heroic Aurors have yet to catch them all, despite the information I provided. I wonder why?"
"Maybe because someone is covering up for them?" Harry returned his glare.
"You of all people know, Mr Potter, how much I've done to put these people in Azkaban. And now because of your unprofessionalism..."
"Or maybe because you drove your son up the wall so bad, Mr Malfoy, that he forgot all caution?"
Malfoy clenched his teeth.
"I..."
"Or" interrupted Sirius, "maybe you were working for both sides, as usual? Covering up for your mates, while at the same time informing for the Aurors so that some small fry were captured? Spun lies to both sides, and now your son has to pay for it."
Judging by Malfoy's facial expression, Sirius wasn't that far off.
"That's not true! After everything that's happened, you think I would help that scum?"
"You?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I haven't a single doubt. But this isn't about your dirty deeds, Malfoy. We haven't got any time for accusations. We need to decide what to do."
Sirius would have been more than happy to argue some more, to get a rise out of Malfoy, but now wasn't the time. In the two years that he'd been an investigator, he'd come to understand quite well that sometimes it was a matter of life and death to quit the back-and-forth and focus on essentials. Like now, for example.
"We can't go to the Aurors. I can promise you, they've had a rat planted among them for quite a while, and if anything goes wrong, they'll kill Draco. My house and fireplace are most likely being watched."
"Then they must know that you're not alone in the house," Sirius said.
"If they know, then let's go together," suggested Harry. He was pacing up and down the room, clenching and unclenching his fists, and was clearly ready to jump to Draco's rescue right that instant.
"I have no intention of risking my son. I'll go alone... Mordred! It won't help," he hissed, and jumped to his feet.
"Exactly."
"Harry, call Kreacher, make him bring you the Invisibility Cloak. I'll turn into Padfoot, we'll hide under the cloak and follow Malfoy."
"They'll be expecting you."
"Well, they don't exactly know what we're capable of, do they." Harry smiled grimly and snapped his fingers.
Kreacher appeared, listened to his request, and vanished.
Malfoy turned to face the window and wrapped his arms around himself. Sirius could have sworn that Malfoy knew something he wasn't saying, but he doubted that he could shake the details out of him right then. But what if... what if this trap wasn't for Malfoy at all, but for Harry? Sirius came up to Malfoy and squeezed his shoulder—he flinched, but didn't turn around. Sirius leant down to his ear.
"If anything happens to my godson, you'll be sorry you hadn't snuffed it together with your Lord."
Malfoy twitched indignantly and hissed in a half-whisper:
"I don't give a damn about your whelp. My son is in danger. If you can't make your idiotic godson stay away from this business, that's your problem, not mine. So don't you dare put this on me, that I have to worry about him on top of everything else!"
His eyes looked utterly ill. Sirius gripped his wand a little tighter.
"We have to come up with a plan," said Harry. "Judging by the note, you're supposed to know the meeting place very well, Malfoy."
"Very well? No. But I do know it. It's talking about the Riddle house. You can imagine what kind of place it is. Have you never been there?"
"Somehow I never got the chance. I'll have Kreacher pass the note on to the Aurors..."
"And have my son maimed as a result! Potter, stop acting like an idiot! Can you promise me that this note won't end up with their rat?"
"I trust my people..."
"Excellent, you're the spitting image of your father—he trusted a rat, too! You know perfectly well that everyone has their weak spot. Even the most honest person can be persuaded, if he's afraid for the lives of his loved ones. So no—no Aurors!"
"Then I can write to Ron and Kingsley—they're definitely not involved with Death Eaters."
"And of course, they won't wag their tongues."
"If I ask them..."
"Each extra person is an added risk for Draco. I don't want to know what else they might cut off him!" Malfoy was beginning to sway unsteadily on his feet. Sirius sat him down in a chair and handed him a glass of water.
"Believe me, I'm worried for Draco's life and safety no less than..." Harry grumbled, and turned away. He looked offended.
Kreacher appeared again and, with a bow, handed Harry the Invisibility Cloak.
"By the way, we could ask Kreacher to help us."
"Right. That's all we need, a deranged house elf!" exclaimed Malfoy.
That argument could have gone on forever. Sirius snapped his fingers, sending Kreacher home—regardless of the magic house elves might possess, it was not a good idea to rely on them in a serious situation. Their minds were too foreign to humans.
"Why don't you suggest something yourself, then!" said Harry.
"We'll go to the Riddle house, I'll distract the kidnappers, you'll find Draco, apparate with him to a safe place, and call the Aurors. That's the whole plan." Malfoy closed his eyes.
"But... but... they'll kill you."
"As if that really worries you, Potter."
Sirius didn't believe a single word coming out of Malfoy's mouth. Altruism was not in his nature, even if his son was at stake. Malfoy must have an ace or two up his sleeve—some illegal Portkey, some secret artefact, or... or he was simply planning to exchange his son for Harry. Because Draco?... Other than his parents and Harry, no one cared about him. But Harry Potter himself—that was a different matter. With him, they could blackmail the Minister of Magic, even the entire Ministry.
Sirius recalled Lucius's omissions, the text of the letter... It really did seem that his guess was right—they wanted Harry to show up. And that meant they needed to change their game plan. Sirius had no doubt that Draco really had been abducted, but he didn't want his godson involved in this. Sirius whipped out his wand and knocked Harry out with a non-verbal Petrificus.
"Black!" Malfoy sprang to his feet. "What are you doing?"
"Hopefully saving Harry's life. As for your son, you and I will be saving his life together."