Chapter Ten.

"This is never going to work," Ron said as he stood next to Harry who was attempting to corral one of the school's owls as it flapped around the owlery; almost as though it sensed the odious task Harry had in mind for it.

"Aside from sending an owl straight to Voldemort, I can't think of a better way than to ask Lucious Malfoy to forward the thing," Harry said, finally catching the tiny white owl.

"He might think it's a trick and just throw it away," Ron said.

"He might, but the other option is sending it straight to Voldemort, and I doubt he's accepting many owls these days."

Ron nodded, "Good point. Even if he doesn't believe us, he'll likely tell You-Know-Who you sent the letter. If You-Know-Who knows anything about this Cthulhu thing, he might talk to you."

Harry sighed. "Will you just say Voldemort already? It's just a name, it won't bite you."

Ron frowned. "I'll say it when I'm ready and not before," Ron said.

Harry finished tying the note to the owl's leg and let it go out the window. He noticed that the owl was flying particularly slow, as though it were reluctant somehow. "You think that owl might be intercepted?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "I doubt they'll worry about owls headed to the Malfoys. This isn't exactly something that's expected."

They left the owl tower and made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was spending most of her days elsewhere and so they were comfortable hanging around there until nightfall, where they usually retreated to their rooms.

Classes resumed the following day. Hermione was absent at them all. Hogwarts still seemed to be grieving over the death of Hagrid and it showed in many of their professor's faces; even Snape seemed affected, he didn't bother Harry or Ron as much in potions.

For Harry and Ron, the days had become leaden with tension. Neither of them had any idea of how close Hermione was to her goal and with the revelation that Dumbledore was evil, all of their teachers and classmates were now suspect. Trelawney, Sprout, even Flitwick, were all suspect. Ironically, it was the people they had normally liked the least at Hogwarts that they were trusting the most. Draco, Filch, Snape, anyone Dumbledore never seemed to care much for all looked a little better now.

Harry and Ron were walking together after double potions across the grounds towards a hill that gave them a good view of the lake. They had taken to going everywhere together for safety reasons. Both of them turned when they heard a familiar voice. "Potter, Weasly!" Draco Malfoy shouted from behind them.

Draco was walking, alone, behind them and casting glances behind him as he went. "What is it?" Ron asked, his hand dropping to his wand.

"Relax Weasley," Draco said, holding his palms up. "My father got your letter."

"And?" Harry said, not completely trusting Draco Malfoy.

"Show some gratitude Potter, talking to you isn't exactly safe for me…she hasn't forgotten being called a mudblood."

Harry and Ron could now see the fear Draco had been trying to conceal. "How much do you know?" Ron asked.

Draco coughed. "Enough. It doesn't matter though. Father says for you to be in the Shrieking Shack tomorrow at eight o'clock. Do whatever it takes to get there." With that, Draco turned and jogged back towards the school, leaving Harry and Ron to look at one another, bewildered.

"He knows about Hermione?" Harry asked.

"The question isn't what he knows, but what his father knows. We assumed we were the first to inform You-Know-Who about what's happening here..." Ron said, rubbing his chin.

"He can't know more than us, not unless Hermione told him while trying to convert him," Harry said.

Ron shook his head. "No, remember what he said about her not forgetting? I think we still have more info than anyone at this point, unless.."

"Unless what?"

"Unless You-Know-Who is already wise to all of this. Even if he's against Dumbledore, he knows a lot about magic and probably knows about this Cthulhu R'lyeh business. All we'll likely be offering in return for his help is manpower," Ron said.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was supposed to be thinking of ways to destroy Voldemort, not curry his favor. The cosmos truly was out of order. "The Shrieking Shack at eight…let's just hope Hermione doesn't stop us."

Ron resumed their walk around the lake with Harry following. Ron cast his glance down to the lake surface where dozens of water striders were dancing about on the surface in unknowable, insane patterns. "We're like those bugs down there on the lake," Ron said. "Maybe we'll crawl under her notice."

To be continued…