Chapter 7!
We're beginning to near the finale, but there are still several chapters to go. And I quite like the exchange near the end of this chapter. Third from the end; just to say, for that bit, I'm not planning to bring her in, but I love her character, so I thought I'd make a reference.
Anyway, sorry if the writing near the end wasn't my best, I woke up yesterday with a spontaneous cold. Which is always a pain.
Rory walked along the walls of Dumbledore's office, frowning, sighing.
"Be quiet Rory, I'm working," the Doctor said suddenly, waving his wand-like sonic screwdriver through the air.
"Working?" Rory said disbelievingly, "You've been waving that thing around for hours."
"Yeah, well, it's a kind of work!" the Time Lord shot back, defensive.
Rolling his eyes, Rory went back to pacing. Eventually he reached Dumbledore's desk, at which the headmaster sat, reading a thick book.
"Professor," Rory began, "Can I ask something?"
"Of course," Dumbledore looked up, eye twinkling
"How is it the wands work? I mean, everyone says it chooses the person, but it can't do that unless it's alive or something."
"That, Mr Pond, would depend on how you define life," the headmaster smiled enigmatically.
"Uh…something that's living," Rory frowned, voice taking on a questioning tone
"They do not breathe," Dumbledore's comforting voice started once more; "They do not eat or sleep. But they do think; as Ollivander would say, the wand chooses the wizard, Rory. If they choose, they must also put thought into the matter. I believe they do live: the magic infused in them makes it so."
A cry echoed through the office; the Doctor's. A shout of triumph.
"What is it?" Rory turned, half-dreading the answer
"I've figured it out!" the Doctor tossed the sonic from one hand to the other, before pocketing it.
"That's nice," Rory paused, "Figured what out?"
"The theft of course! I sent Amy to investigate it, some people stole loads of wands from Ollivander's. It was niggling at the back of my mind until now."
Rory blinked; one mystery solved, even if one which seemed as good as unrelated.
"Remember what was in the forest?" the Doctor rambled on, "Huge rockets. I mean, huge rockets," he gestured by holding his hands as far apart as he could, before shrugging, "Not big enough. And they weren't really rockets; not the right kind of engine. But they were used as rockets, salvaged from, probably, a crashed ship. But what's powering them? I totally forgot that. Probably because I don't have a fez, I always think better when I'm wearing a fez," the Doctor paused for a moment, contemplating
"Anyway…" Rory prompted
"Ah, yes. Well, that's what the wands were for! They were stolen by whoever or whatever's in the Forest as a power source. Well, adaptor would be a better word; siphoning the magic out of the air to power the engines," the Doctor grinned again, "Oh, and probably to power the handy hand. I had a handy hand once. It grew."
Rory refused to even try and understand what the Time Lord ended up babbling about.
However, he did understand the start of the rant. Whatever lived in the Forest, possibly the centaur he'd seen going into the Forest, was building a very heat-resistant hand. The magic built into the wands was a power source, and a funnel to gain power, for the machines: in Hogwarts, electrical devices did not work.
The steady grinding of the entry gargoyle ascending to the office filled the room. Curious, they turned, to see Amy stumbling in.
"Lellorian," she said, panting, "The centaur's called Lellorian. And he's controlling the Basilisk," she swayed a little, unsteady on her feet, "Never try to outrun a horse."
O
"Boy!" Lellorian shouted.
Harry turned. They were in the grounds outside Hogwarts; the black haired student had been on his way to visit Hagrid, while Ron sat with Hermione in the Hospital Wing.
"I knew I'd find you," Harry shouted, voice barely carrying through the wind
"Do you intend to obey?" Lellorian's inhuman glare bored into Harry's
"No!" the Boy Who Lived retorted; "I'm not your puppet. And you won't make me obey by attacking my friends."
"You are lying. The scent is clear on the air."
"I'm not," Harry shook his head, "The more you hurt my friends, the more I turn against you."
"Indeed," Lellorian's glare did not change at all in intensity. "Perhaps it was a mistake to move the girl beyond all harm. I disbelieve that you are unaffected however."
"I'm not," Harry's voice quietened for a few seconds, "But I won't betray Dumbledore."
"Loyalty!" Lellorian let out a harsh bark of laughter, "Is such a thing more important than all the students of Hogwarts School?"
Still laughing, the centaur turned, galloping away. One last cry echoed through the air:
"Things are not yet over. If you do not bring me the object, more shall occur."
O
Draco Malfoy walked calmly along the grass.
He was alone now; thankfully. He preferred being so. It was a Slytherin trait to seek out allies more than friends, and only the right kind, the right blood, would do. As a consequence, each friend saw him differently. It was hard to tell which knew the Malfoy most true to the real Draco.
Sometimes, it seemed to him, Slytherins did not know him at all. While most of them laughed from their arrogant perches as the catastrophes, the writing on the wall and the petrified students, Draco was actively doing something. Even if he was helping a Gryffindor, he was spiting Lellorian.
That meant a lot to him. While some did good for benefits to the other good, Draco felt more like one of those who did good for the purpose of hurting those less good.
"Boy!" Lellorian's irritatingly familiar voice carried over the hill.
Scowling, the blonde sat up. Mentally, he recited a dozen curses his father had taught him, as he always did, just in case he really wanted to get rid of the centaur.
"I told you already. No," Draco hastily removed all emotion from his face.
He even, just, managed to quench the shock which rose upon seeing the centaur's animalistic face. Lellorian continued to move forwards.
"Consent is not needed," he sounded almost mechanical.
Footsteps like clockwork, the centaur came closer.
"Flipendo!" Draco shouted, yanking out his wand.
It was the first time he'd flung a curse at the centaur. The way the knockback jinx simply rippled over Lellorian's chest suggested it wouldn't be the last.
"Immobulus!" Draco shouted again, beginning to back away.
The curse was intended to freeze a person in their tracks. On Lellorian, his skin appeared to stiffen for a few moments, though something still pushed him on. He didn't break stride; far from it, he moved into a faster gallop. Still, the muscles in his face and chest seemed more tense.
"Tarantallegra!" Draco jabbed his wand again. The curse was intended to make Lellorian lose control of his legs; the front two jerked slightly, but little more.
"Depulso! Flipendo! Colloshoo! Alarte Ascendare!" Each attempted hex did little more than make Lellorian stumble; often less than that, simply making his flesh ripple.
The centaur was almost touching Draco. The boy felt a sudden pang of fear.
"Diffindo!" Draco shouted.
A scowl crossed Lellorian's face, and a deep cut appeared over the centaur's shoulder. Before Draco could try it again however, Lellorian's fist collided with his face; a very un-magical display of brute force. Draco collapsed.
O
"Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped," Dumbledore said solemnly, sitting in his office. "By whom, we do not know."
Amy looked at the headmaster, shocked. The Doctor slumped; and Rory span around, frowning, puzzling as to whether it happened in the book. From the reaction of the others, it hadn't.
"That can't happen," the Doctor fell back; "That just can't." he paused. "Any clues?"
"None," Dumbledore spoke simply; "He didn't turn up to a lesson, and upon searching, it was revealed he was no longer in the castle."
"Lellorian," Amy said confidently. "Has to be."
She couldn't hold back a pang of guilt: Draco had saved her from Lellorian. Had the centaur exacted revenge?
"At least we know he's alive, "Rory said. "It's not like him to stop setting the Basilisk on everyone."
"Ah, but would you wish to be imprisoned?" Dumbledore looked up. "Especially by such a creature."
"He's right," the Doctor sighed; "I was imprisoned once, for a year. Started in a dog kennel, then a bird cage. I was never knew where he bought the cage," the Doctor looked up, distracted for a moment, before shrugging, "Anyway, I wouldn't advise it. Unless you can get the whole world to shout your name, but that isn't easy."
The group gave a collective sigh.
O
Two red headed boys peered out from a stone balcony, looking out over the hall, at all the crowds of students pouring through. They tossed a small, thin, bouncy, squidgy plastic ball between them; like a balloon filled with water.
Then, with a grin at each other, they threw it down. It exploded with a splash on the ground, sending water cascading everywhere; water which somehow managed to get nothing at all wet. And more balls of plastic inflated and bounced out of the first; more illusory water, and bouncing spheres, being spread.
Laughing, the identical duo turned, about to walk down from the small stone perch. They walked into a man in a brown coat, their heads level with a bow tie.
"I need your help," the Doctor said firmly, before pausing; "Or rather, I need the help of Moony, Worm-Tail, Pad-Foot and Prongs."
The students exchanged a look.
"He knows about the map Fred," one red headed boy said
"I noticed, George," the second twin said, in the exact same tone.
"Nice try," the Doctor laughed, "You're Fred," he pointed to the one identified as George, "You're George," he pointed to the other.
"He's good," both twins said at once.
"I need the Marauder's Map," the Doctor repeated his request, impatient, "I know you don't tell anyone what it is until the next year, but I thought I'd speed things up."
Looking at each other once more, the twins took out a small piece of parchment from their bag. Tapping it with the tip of his wand, Fred whispered: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Long, spindly lines of black ink drew themselves along the yellowing paper. Scribbles moved themselves, rearranging until they formed a readable depiction of Hogwarts. Named scribbles wandered the corridors, including, the Doctor noted with glee, Rory Pond. Lellorian was not depicted.
Fred and George looked up at the Time Lord, surprised. The Doctor's name was not written on the magical map; just eleven small dots, composing the location of his figure, and a blank label.
About a minute later, the Doctor tapped the map with his wand: "Mischief managed." More words appeared on the paper, as the drawing was erased.
I very much doubt that, Doctor.
The Time Lord frowned, before rolling his eyes at the signature which appeared soon after: River Song.
The Doctor had the distinct feeling she'd never visited Hogwarts, and was just trying to annoy him. In any case, he muttered one last thing: "Why did you bother?"
Spoilers.
Sighing away a chuckle, he handed the parchment back to Fred and George Weasley. Then, with a glance over the balcony, his face cracked into a childlike smile: Snape was wandering down the hall. Giving a quick glance to both Fred and George, he pointed his sonic out over the balcony edge. One of the last illusory, magical water-bombs thrown down by the twins bounced over to the Potions Master; he sneered it at. Then it promptly exploded with real water, drenching Snape's robes.
"Wicked," Fred and George said in the same instant.
The Doctor gave a mock bow, walking away.
Inside however, he was nowhere near as joyous as he let on. With the map, he hoped to see where Draco had been taken. The Slytherin was not on the map; meaning he was either outside the Hogwarts grounds, or in a hidden area, such as the Chamber of Secrets.
That was probably why River left the note; a quick reminder to not give up hope. Like he ever would.
O
Harry ran out of the castle, knowing full well who'd be waiting.
Sure enough, Lellorian stood there, expression as arrogant as ever. "You took him!" Harry shouted. The centaur's lip curled to a sneering smile
"I have. Draco Malfoy belongs to me now," Lellorian looked down at the black haired student.
Harry said nothing. Inside, he was burning too much: Draco had once been targeted to help the centaur. Now, nothing. They'd given up, and taken him, stolen him.
"How many more?" Harry said, struggling to suppress anger
"As many as it takes," Lellorian's gaze never wavered, "Hestia, Colin, Hermione, Adaryn, Violet, now Draco. If needs be, we will bring Hogwarts down, brick by brick, and take it then."
"Don't expect me to make this easier for you," Harry gripped his wand tightly.
For a few seconds however, he noted the 'we'. More than one centaur? Or something else?
"Do you care nothing for their lives?" Lellorian didn't sound questioning. He was commanding, dominating. "Then we need not keep Draco."
"Let him go."
"Why would I do that?" Lellorian spoke, scathing, "What possible reason would I have to release the child?"
Harry tensed.
"You say you are loyal to Hogwarts," Lellorian's voice deepened, growing coarser, "Does that extend to the people within? I think you will find I am capable of achieving great harm should I wish it. The headmaster for example. I wonder if it would be possible to reach him."
The centaur was bluffing of course; it was a struggle to go too far into Hogwarts, unnoticed, and he'd narrowly escaped notice a couple of times. He'd been injured, as the scar over his shoulder, held together by a vine from the Forest, attested to. And this was without going after the teachers and older years.
Still, Harry didn't, couldn't know that. Lellorian's darkened eyes gave no clue; his strong frame radiated only confidence.
"And in truth, what harm do you believe I could wreak by an item held by your headmaster?" the centaur's voice had sunk from its violent tones, to a more seductive wildness, "Give me just this one item from his office, and I shall leave you."
A tense few seconds ticked by. Harry frowned, shaking, confused. He couldn't ask for help, couldn't get any, and now he was forced to choose. Defy Lellorian, and set him on a rampage through Hogwarts, or obey, betray and steal from Dumbledore?
"What do you want me to do?" Harry said shakily.
He had no choice. He needed to save lives. This was the only way to do that.
Still, he felt so, so guilty.
O
"Sir," Harry Potter spoke shakily to the Doctor.
The Time Lord looked down, surprised: "Call me Doctor," he grinned, "What do you want to say?"
"You said you were investigating," Harry hesitated for a moment, afraid, "I think there's something you should know."
"There's a lot I should know," the Doctor nodded appreciatively, "But most of it's probably not here. I need to know where I can buy a fez, how to get rid of boring blue switches, how-" he paused, thinking
"It's about a centaur," Harry quickly interjected, speaking in the small, available gap.
"Ah," the Doctor's face fell. "Lellorian."
"Y-yeah," Harry was a little surprised that the Doctor knew the name.
"Come with me," voice sunken to dreary seriousness, the Doctor reached out. Harry followed.
It took several minutes of wandering until they reached Dumbledore's Office. From there, they ascended on the gargoyle.
"Wait here," the Doctor said quickly, darting away, around a blue box which seemed very out of place. Behind it, he flicked Dumbledore's Deluminator, sparking several lamps to life.
Fawkes the Phoenix tilted his head at Harry. As the Time Lord left the room, Harry darted over to it, feeling the need to justify himself: "Please don't tell them," he murmured to the firebird, "I'm trying to protect people."
Several minutes later, the Doctor and Dumbledore re-entered the front of the office, to see Harry Potter sitting down, politely. As they began to converse, learning what Harry knew about Lellorian, they did not know of the small, stolen item resting in the pocket of Harry's robe.
Fawkes looked over at him with a baleful eye.
The Boy Who Lived pushed down his guilt, telling himself it was for the best. He hoped.
