Disclaimer: Still not mine
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Get In, Get the Git, Get Out
Ron had warned Harry about George. All the Weasleys had. And Harry, for his part, hadn't believed them. When he'd seen the remaining Weasley twin at family get-togethers he seemed his usual self – a little darker, maybe, but not irreparably damaged by the death of his twin as his family claimed and Harry had expected.
It wasn't until the young man led Harry up to the flat above his shop that Harry began to get an idea of just what his family meant. As he walked in through the front door, Harry was confronted with the image of his own face, fixed into an expression of surprise. It took a few second for him to realise that it was his reflection. He glanced to the side and was faced with another reflection, staring back at him in consternation.
As he edged his way into the little front hall, Harry's eyes flicked over the walls. Every one of them was completely covered by full-length mirrors, and ahead of him, George turned into the living room, his twin reflection beside him. Harry wished he had missed the way that George's fingers fluttered in the smallest wave of greeting to his own identical image.
:-Now this is rather disturbing,-: Sirius murmured.
:-Good God, the poor lad.-: Remus's voice was very sober. :-There has to be something we can do for him.-:
:-Like what?-: Harry asked, running one hand over the clear glass of the nearest mirror. :-We can't bring Fred back from the dead unless his soul is hanging round in my head. You haven't seen him around, have you?-:
:-Believe me,-: said James, :-No one else could hide in here. No one else could FIT in here.-:
"Harry?" Harry looked up to see George peering round the door of the living room. "You don't have to hang out in the hall, mate. Come through."
Harry attempted a smile and followed him into the living room, his stomach tight with apprehension. The furniture was all Fred-and-George. Lime green dragon-leather sofas, luminous yellow curtains at the window, scarlet and gold carpet. There was nothing to demonstrate a state of deep mourning expect for the fact that every wall was lined with mirrors.
"Take a seat. I'll get us some butterbeer."
Harry moved to sit, deliberately choosing a seat that allowed him a clear view of George and his reflection in the kitchen. Although Harry couldn't hear anything other than the popping of corks, he could see that George's lips moved as he murmured to his reflection, his shoulder lifting in a shrug and his head tilting as though he were hearing a reply. Harry felt his stomach roll with pity. He looked away and stared instead at the jumble of miscellaneous objects that littered the coffee table and the floor – signs of George's recent new inventions for the shop.
"Here." A bottle of butterbeer was waved into Harry's line of sight and he took it from George's freckled hand. The young man took a seat opposite him and swigged from his own bottle. "Now, Ron said you had a special request." He grinned at Harry and winked. "It's not something naughty is it? Something to make you more attractive to the ladies now you've left poor Ginny in the lurch?"
Harry felt himself flush so brightly he was sure his cheeks must match the carpet. "Er...no. It's nothing like that." He hesitated as George tilted his bottle in a slight toast to his own reflection before taking another gulp.
"So what is it?" George broke off and pursed his lips as he followed Harry's gaze to his identical image in the mirror. "I know what you're thinking. They probably warned you about me, didn't they?"
Harry quickly averted his eyes as George sighed tugged at the hair hanging over his missing ear.
"You think I'm insane. You all do. But I'm not. He really is here. I see him, Harry. I really do – Right there where my reflection used to be."
Harry gave a non-committal shrug and took a nervous gulp of his drink.
"I thought you, of all people, would understand. Strange things happen to you, too. Magical twins have a strong connection, you know. He didn't leave me when he died."
Harry took a deep breath and set his bottle on the coffee table, careful not to bump any of the half-built inventions. Things around the Weasley twins had a tendency to explode at unexpected moments. "You have to know how it looks, George."
"I know how it looks. I don't care. It's our home and we can decorate it however we like." He swallowed and ducked his head. "However I like."
:-He has a point,-: Sirius said. :-You really have no right to talk. You have your family in your head, he has his brother in his reflection.-:
:-You really ARE in my head.-: Harry pointed out.
:-Would he believe you if you told him that?-: Lily asked
"Of course you can," Harry said aloud, in answer to George. "I didn't come here to judge you. You're right, I have no right talk considering all the things that have happened to me."
George gave a short nod, then visibly straightened, his face falling into its normal good-natured expression. "So what can I do for our favourite financial backer?"
"I was wondering if you could alter some Polyjuice Potion for me," Harry said, deciding to try and ignore George's use of the plural pronoun. "I need it to work on house-elves."
George blinked. "You need to change a house-elf into another house-elf, or a house-elf into a human?"
Harry smiled properly for the first time. Trust a Weasley twin to be completely unfazed by his bizarre request. "House-elf into a human."
"Now why would you need something like that, Harry Potter?" George grinned back. "You're not planning on getting into trouble, are you?"
"It depends on how you define trouble."
"Well, we generally define it as 'fun in the extreme'."
Harry relaxed as he laughed. "I think you would consider what I'm planning to be trouble, then."
"Good," said George, sitting back with a satisfied expression on his face. "It's nice to know you're not moping around anymore."
"I wasn't moping!"
"Oh, please. Hiding out in Grimmauld Place for weeks on end with only Kreacher for company. The family were more worried about you than me for ages."
"They were?" Harry felt a stab of guilt.
"It's what happens when people care for you, mate. There's nothing to be done about it really." He shared a sly glance with his twin-reflection. "So when's the wedding?"
Harry stared at him blankly. "What wedding?"
"Well, the only reason I can think of for you wanting to change a house-elf into a human is because you and Kreacher fell madly in love and want to consummate your relationship in human form."
Harry gaped. "What?"
"I'm just messing with you, mate. We can't resist the chance to see you blush that fetching shade of burgundy."
Harry pressed a hand to his burning cheek. "Idiot."
"Guilty as charged. You don't have to tell me. I'll do it. It shouldn't be too hard, and it's been a while since I've had an interesting assignment. When do you need it by?"
"As soon as possible." Harry hesitated, thinking about all the times George and Fred had been there to help and support him. He owed a lot to this lonely, one-eared man who'd been so damaged by the war. "I'm breaking someone out of prison."
George's eyebrows flew into his hairline. "Are you, now? Should be marginally easier than breaking into Gringotts anyway."
Harry shook his head. "Does nothing faze you?"
"Not anymore, mate." He glanced as his reflection. "I've used up my quota of 'being shocked' for the rest of my life, I reckon. So...anyone I know?"
"Might be. How long do you reckon it'll take to get the potion together? I need rather a lot."
"A few days, if I work hard. I won't have to start the potion from scratch. Just alter an existing batch of Polyjuice a bit."
"That would be brilliant. I'll pay you."
"You don't have to."
"I will anyway." Harry sighed. "I'd better go. I left Teddy with your brother."
"With Ron?" George shook his head. "Poor little mite. Here – I made something for him. He'll need a reward for spending an afternoon under the tender loving care of my oaf of a brother." He opened a drawer and handed Harry a stuffed bear. "Mood bear. It changes colour if he's hungry, angry, happy...well, you get the picture."
"Thanks," Harry said, feeling touched. "He'll love it. Were you responsible for those dancing weasels?"
"Might've been," George said evasively. "Are they driving you crazy yet?"
"Just about. Floo me when you've done the Polyjuice?"
"Of course."
Harry made his way into the hall again and opened the front door.
"Harry?"
He turned around. He couldn't see George himself, but his reflection was clear as he stood just inside the doorway of the living room.
"I'm not insane, mate."
There was something different about him that Harry couldn't put his finger on for a second. It was almost like seeing a glimpse of the old pre-war George. Harry nodded and smiled, turning back to the door. Just as he was about to step out, he realised what the odd thing had been about the reflection. It had two intact ears.
Harry swung back round to see the figure in the mirror still standing there. One ear - George's reflection.
It winked.
Shakily, Harry stepped out and shut the door.
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"It's a good thing he won't have to brew the potion from scratch," Hermione said, as she, Harry, and Ron met in the Leaky Cauldron two days later. "It takes a month and I have no idea how we would have managed if we had to do this during term time rather than the Christmas holidays. Harry and I are under a lot of scrutiny at Hogwarts – especially since he's become Head of Slytherin."
"How was George, Harry?" Ron asked, obviously trying to sound nonchalant.
Harry sighed and sipped his butterbeer. "It was quite unnerving. All those mirrors everywhere..." he shuddered. "But – I dunno. There was a moment when I wondered – you know – if maybe..."
"Don't fall for it, mate," Ron interrupted. "It's all those mirrors. They do a number on your sanity. You start really believing you see his reflection moving slightly out of time, or it winks at you when George doesn't or something. But it's all in the mind. Mum talked to some Healers at St. Mungo's about it, and they said he's in denial and it's only going to get worse if he doesn't face it."
"But maybe he isn't insane," Harry persisted. "I mean, most people would think I was if I told them I had my family living in my head."
"Really, Harry. Don't fall for it. I loved Fred, but we all saw his body. He's dead, and we've just got to accept it." Ron's voice cracked, and his fingers were tight and white around his glass.
:-Leave it, love,-: Lily added. :-Can't you see you're upsetting him?-:
:-But we're going to be Masters of Death,-: Harry said. :-If Fred really is hanging on to George like he thinks, maybe we can bring him back as well.-:
:-Then we'll find out ourselves. Don't drag Ron into it. Fred was his brother. If we raise his hopes and it turns out it really is just in George's mind, how will he feel?-:
Harry had no answer for that.
"So about the spell to transfigure Malfoy into a ferret," Hermione said, in an obvious ploy to chance the subject. "I've been searching everywhere to find it. Forced transfiguration of a human being into smaller mammals is near to impossible."
"What?" Harry felt his stomach drop. "But Moody did it!"
"It's really difficult to chance a person's DNA so completely that they take on the characteristics of a completely different species. It's easier to change them into inanimate objects because they don't have their own instincts or 'personalities'. A human being's personality, physicality, and magic are naturally robust. If you try and change it, it tends to bounce right back into shape."
"So you can't do it?" Ron asked, sounding as hope-punctured as Harry felt.
"I never said that," Hermione said primly. "I just said I don't think there is an easy spell designed to change a person into a ferret. It might work with a complicated potion – like a variation of polyjuice – but we'd have to ask George to fix it for us, and he'd have to have 'essence of ferret' to put into it. I've found a better spell, though." She smiled enigmatically at them.
"Well?" Harry said. "What is it?"
"The forced Animagus transformation spell. It's not like a real Animagus transformation – it doesn't give the person the ability to change into an animal at will - but it does change them into their inner animal. You know - the animal they would change into if they did go through the long, complicated process of becoming an Animagus. It's a one-time thing, though. And they're stuck in that form until another wizard changes them back. They have the essence of that animal in them already, which is why it's easier than a standard animal transfiguration. I think that was the spell Moody must have used."
Harry and Ron stared at her in surprise, then a slow smile began to spread across Ron's face. "You mean to tell me that Malfoy's inner animal is a ferret?" he asked with glee.
Hermione's mouth twitched as she fought her amusement. "It begins to look that way."
"Oh, this is brilliant!" Ron's expression was rapturous. "It almost makes it worth having to break him out of prison, being able to rub his face in it."
"Ron, that's very cruel," Hermione said, though it sounded as though her heart wasn't in it.
"You'd better be sure your inner animal isn't a weasel or something first," Harry added. "The mocking could go both ways, you realise."
The grin sidled sheepishly off Ron's face to be replaced by a look of dawning horror. "Good Merlin, you don't think it is, do you?"
"As I said – you've got to be sure."
"Boys!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of their faces. "Focus! The point is that before we break him out, Harry needs to be taught the spell, George needs to finish the potion for the house elf, and we need to make plans for breaking into the Ministry. Also, Kreacher arrived back with the house-elf earlier, and we need to check it can pull off a believable performance as Malfoy. We have a lot of work to do." She gave Ron a sideways glance. "Besides – you'd probably be a Jack Russell terrier."
"You what?"
"Unless some significant person or event in your life has altered its appearance, a Patronus charm always reverts to whatever your inner animal is as its corporeal form. Harry's is Prongs because of his father, Tonks' changed into a werewolf because of Remus – "
:-Yet another thing I share in common with that sneaky, thieving little witch,-: Sirius muttered.
:-Sirius, please don't.-:
:-Sorry, Moony.-:
" – Snape's was a doe because of Lily Potter," Hermione continued, oblivious to the exchange. "But you and I, Ron, hadn't been that profoundly affected by a person yet, so ours were our inner animals. You're a Jack Russell, and I'm an otter."
"A Jack Russell?" Ron looked horrified. "Why couldn't I be a lion or an eagle or something cool like that?"
"Sirius and Remus say there is nothing wrong with being a canine, mate," Harry put in, his heart going out to his friend as he took in his deflated expression. "They say all the best people are."
:-Hey!-:
Ron brightened a little. "That's true. It's practically traditional for Gryffindor men to be canines, right?"
:-HEY!-: James sounded very indignant.
"I might not go that far," Harry said in amusement. "But you don't have anything to be ashamed of. Knowing my luck, I'll be an earthworm. Or a hedgehog."
:-I used to have a hedgehog,-: Remus volunteered. :-He was brilliant. It's a good life being a hedgehog.-:
"But it's not exactly heroic, is it?" Harry said. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. "Oh no! What if I'm a snake? I bet I'm a snake!"
"While this conversation is all well and good," Hermione interrupted. "Can I just remind everyone that we're trying to plan a prison break." Her voice was loud enough that Harry began to worry about someone overhearing them.
"Perhaps we should go back to Grimmauld to discuss this," he suggested. "A pub's not really the place, is it?"
The other two nodded and gulped down the rest of their drinks. They floo'd back to Harry's house and seated themselves around the kitchen table, armed with parchment and quills for drawing up plans.
:-Perhaps start with the house-elf,-: Lily suggested. :-It needs to be able to pull off a believable performance as Malfoy.-:
"Kreacher?" Harry called. There was a loud pop, and Kreacher appeared with a much smaller house-elf in tow. Harry had no idea how long house elves lived, but if Kreacher was ninety, this one looked to be just out of its teens. Its skin was smooth green, its massive eyes bright, and its pillowcase robe a cheerful blue. Kreacher, in comparison, looked as gnarled and crooked as an old oak tree.
"Master?" Kreacher bowed low. "Kreacher got one of the Malfoy house-elves. They have three, but Kreacher is thinking a small one is best for hiding under Master's invisibility cloak."
He gave the younger elf a pointed shove. It shuffled forward, tripping over the edge of its pillowcase.
"This is Bobsy, Master."
Harry smiled down at the little elf. "How are you, Bobsy?"
Bobsy stared at him blankly. He looked as though Harry had just asked him why the sky was blue or what kind of cheese the moon was made from. "Er...Bobsy is in good health to help his Master," he tried, looking terribly unnerved.
Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. "Okay. Good. Um – has Kreacher told you what we want you to do?"
"Yes, Master. He said you want to rescue Master Draco from prison and let Bobsy take his place."
Harry winced at that. "Only if you want to," he said hastily. "You don't have to. I'm not your master. You don't have to obey me."
"Oh, Bobsy wants to!" the little elf said, his ears flapping as he nodded his head earnestly. "It's a pleasure for Bobsy to serve Master Draco." He sounded only slightly dubious about this last part.
"Good, good." Harry smiled and glanced towards the others. Hermione nodded to him to continue. "Okay. If you're going to do this, you need to be able to act like Mal...er...D-Draco. We need the prison guard and Aurors to believe that you are him when you are disguised in his body. Do you think you can do that?"
"Oh yes, Master! Bobsy can be Master Draco."
"Can we see?" Hermione put in, leaning down to his level.
Bobsy shot her a nervous look before clearing his throat and imperiously straightening his little pillowcase. His face took on an expression of agonised concentration, and his mouth moved for a few seconds as he worked his way up to say; "Hey you! Get Bob...er...me. Some. Proper. Soup! This. Muck. Tastes. Like. It's. Already. Been. Through. The. Digestive. System. Of. A. Blast. Ended. Nail!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.
"Er." Harry tried not to snigger. "Good first try, Bobsy. I can see you obviously know your master very well. Perhaps try to liven it up a little. Remember the tone that he uses. And I think you might mean a Blast-Ended Skrewt."
"Oh, Bobsy is sorry, Harry Potter!"
"No, it was really very good," Hermione said kindly. "It just takes practice to be that...um...imperious. Why don't you try again? Perhaps imagine how Mal-Draco would react to being in a tiny prison cell."
Bobsy nodded, cleared his throat, and one again twisted his face into an agony of creative composition. "What do you call this, may I ask?! Bob...I wouldn't keep a crup in a...a...dirty, unwashed hole like this!" Bobsy's face began to relax as he got into his flow. "And all these metal bars everywhere? Do you know how uncultured bars are? Not a piece of marble anywhere!"
The little elf began to jig gleefully around the kitchen. He pointed an imperious finger at Kreacher. "Hey you – Mr. Guard! I demand that my prison robes be made of silk and I demand they are handwashed. Do you know what clumsy house-elf magic does to silk? And what is this in my porridge?! Go and shut your ears in an oven!"
"What is it about Malfoy house-elves?" Ron asked in a stunned voice as Bobsy continued to dart around the kitchen making spirited demands and complaints in an increasingly squeaky and imperious voice. "I've never heard of any other house-elves that are so easily swayed to rebellion."
"It's true," Hermione agreed. They watched as Bobsy pointed out the flaws in the kitchen curtains and commented unfavourably on the colour scheme of the cabinets and the rug. "Do you know how hard SPEW volunteers work to persuade house-elves they don't have to live a life of servitude? And the Malfoys have two!"
Harry felt his lips twitch with amusement. "Maybe you should ask Malfoy for some tips when we rescue him?"
"I will do no such thing." Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. "Have you seen how they treat their house elves?"
"Well," Ron said, as Bobsy climbed onto the table and paraded around with his pointed little nose in the air while Kreacher watched with a horrified expression. "It's obviously not done them much lasting damage."
Harry tried not to show his amusement at Hermione's torn expression. "Okay, Bobsy!" he called, as the elf's squeaky voice began to reach a pitch that was high enough to melt his earwax. "I think that's enough practice now."
Bobsy blinked and stared down at Harry from his elevated position on the table. He looked slightly disappointed. "Bobsy did good, Harry Potter?"
"Very good. And just think – when you take Ma-Draco's place, you'll have to act like that all the time."
A dreamy expression crossed Bobsy's face. "Ooh! When are we going, sir?"
"As soon as we've got the Polyjuice and I've learned the spell for transforming your Master."
Bobsy's face lit up, and Harry couldn't help feeling smug at the fact he'd aided in corrupting yet another Malfoy house elf.
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"Are you sure you've got everything?" Hermione said, fussing around Harry as he stood by the living room fireplace. "Wand? Invisibility cloak? Polyjuice? Lock picks?" She looked ready to list everything right down to his underwear, so Harry reached out and covered her mouth with his hand.
"I've got everything, Hermione. You should know – you packed most of it."
"Don't stress," George added, guiding her gently away from Harry and depositing her next to Ron. "Harry'll be fine. He's done lots of stupider things that breaking ex-Death Eaters out of Ministry holding cells."
"Really not helping here," Harry said, turning to the fireplace and bracing himself. "Right. Bobsy, come on up."
The house elf scrambled up his back and clung like a little monkey around his neck.
"Invisibility cloak?"
Ron stepped forward and draped the cloak ceremoniously around Harry, causing him to disappear from view.
"I wish we were still little enough to fit under there with you!" Hermione was wringing her hands. Harry and never seen anyone actually wring their hands before. He'd always thought it was just a figure of speech.
"Relax," he said, trying to infuse confidence into his voice that he currently didn't really feel. "Technically there are now six of us under here. Between us we'll get in, get the git and get out. No problem."
George snorted. "There's your motto right there, mate. Get in, get the git, get out."
"Try saying that ten times fast," Ron added with rather tremulous joviality.
"Right, I'm off," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "If I hang around any longer I might vomit or something."
"Good luck," Hermione whispered, and George and Ron murmured their agreement as Harry stepped into the fireplace.
"All invisible?" He asked.
They nodded.
"Right then." He grabbed a handful of floo powder and tossed it down. "The Ministry of Magic!"
Green flames exploded around him and he spun away.
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Harry stumbled out into the main Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. None of the harassed-looking Ministry workers glanced his way, which was a relief. They had deliberately chosen to do this at the end of the working day when most people had left, and the ones that remained were concentrating very hard on their work so that they could leave too. People daydreaming about dinner, an evening of the Wizarding Wireless, and a warm bed paid little attention to mysteriously flaming floos transporting invisible people, or the sound of footsteps where there were no feet.
He hurried towards the lift, his heart hammering with excitement. Now he was actually carrying out the plan, Harry felt as though he were in his element for the first time in years. This is what he did best – daring, overblown, likely-to-get-him-killed-or-arrested adventures with only his wand and his adrenaline between him and his goal.
:-If I had any doubt before,-: Lily commented, sounding resigned, :-I know it for sure now. You are your father's son.-:
:-A proper Marauder,-: Sirius agreed, sounding proud.
:-And a true Gryffindor,-: Remus said, then ruined it slightly by adding, :-I always wondered why the Sorting Hat chose to put me in a House where most of the members make important life decisions based on the fact that it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time-and-besides-doesn't-it-look-pretty-when-it-explodes-like-that?-:
:-You masterminded a fair few explosions in your time, Moony,-: Sirius told him.
Harry sighed inwardly. :-Hush, please. it's really not easy being sneaky and clever with you wittering on in my head like this.-:
He sneaked into the empty lift behind another Ministry worker, hoping that the man was at least heading in the direction of the holding cells. Luckily, he was going down, and when he got out two floors later, Harry quickly hammered on the button to the lowest level and the doors slid shut just before another witch tried to enter. The lift felt big and intimidating when it only contained one person and one very small house elf. Harry suddenly became aware that Bobsy was trembling against his back, his little arms wrapped chokingly tight around Harry's neck.
"Are you okay, Bobsy?" Harry whispered, though there was really no chance of anyone hearing them while they were alone in the lift.
"Bobsy is afraid Harry Potter will be caught and Bobsy will fail in his task to help his Master."
Harry tried to gently loosen the house elf's arms around his windpipe. "It'll be fine, Bobsy. Trust me. I've done stuff like this lots of times before."
The lift rattled down further and further towards the lower levels of the Ministry. Harry muttered the many spells Hermione had drilled into him under his breath, feeling his heart rate pick up as the lift slowed to a halt and the doors slid open. He almost yelped in shock when he came face to face with two Auror guards.
"Well, that didn't take long," the chubbier one commented. "Usually it has to come down all the way from the Atrium at this time of day."
"Someone must have been getting off in the lower levels," said his companion, and Harry stumbled to the side as the man stepped briskly into the lift, followed by the chubby one.
Harry barely managed to slip out into the corridor before the lift doors closed and it made its slow ascent back up to the Atrium.
In the corridor, the two Aurors who had replaced Chubby and Brisk for guard duty were opening the doors that led to the double cells one by one to check on their occupants. Harry hovered by the lift doors under his invisibility cloak, trying to keep as silent as possible as he watched the guards' progress.
:-Oh dear,-: Remus murmured. :-Just our luck to come as the guards are changing. These new ones will be fresh and alert.-:
:-The upside is that they have just checked on all the prisoners and written it down in their log book,-: Lily said. :-It won't ring any bells if there is a long wait before the next check.-:
Bobsy's arms had contracted painfully around Harry's neck again, though his trembling was mercifully silent.
The guards reached the last cell and signed off the prisoner check before one of them shrunk the log book and put it in his pocket.
:-Ready, Harry?-: James asked, his voice tinted yellow-gold with anticipation.
:-Ready.-:
Harry took a deep, silent breath, then poked the very tip of his wand out from under the cloak and released two stunning spells in quick succession. The Auror's didn't even have time to cry out in alarm before they collapsed to the floor.
:-Very sloppy,-: James commented, regarding the crumpled forms through Harry's eyes with contempt. :-When I was an Auror we never would have got away with that. They would have had intruder-alert wards on this floor that would have warned of our presence, and each Auror would have cast person-sensing charms as soon as they came on duty to check all was clear.-:
:-To be fair,-: Harry said, :-I am wearing one of George's bracelets that prevents intruder-alert wards from picking up my presence.-:
:-Not the point.-: James gave the mental impression of waving an airy hand. :-There should have been wards there for us to have got past, and there weren't.-:
:-We were living in paranoid times,-: Remus reminded him. :-People have become lax over the last few years since Voldemort's defeat.-:
:-Well, they shouldn't have. That's probably how this whole thing with Crouch Junior and his exploding Dementors came about.-:
:-Seriously,-: Harry interrupted. :-Not the time.-:
He approached the door to the Malfoys' cells and reached into his robe for his lock picks. He hoped he remembered all the instructions George had given him on the best way to pick magical locks.
:-Er,-: said Remus, waving a mental hand. :-Can I make a suggestion?-:
:-What?-: Harry asked irritably.
:-Why don't you just borrow the keys out of the guard's pocket?-:
There was a long, embarrassed pause. Remus sighed. :-Gryffindors, the lot of you. I really don't know what the Sorting Hat was thinking, putting me there.-:
:-It was thinking 'I reckon those Gryffindor boys need a dose of morality, sexiness, and common sense. I know! I'll give them Remus',-: said Sirius.
:-Here goes,-: Harry interjected, having retrieved the bunch of keys. He gripped the key with the Malfoy's cell numbers on it and inserted it into the lock. He held his breath, but it clicked open easily.
:-Bloody amateurs,-: James muttered.
Harry stepped into the small section of floor in front of the magical glass wall that overlooked the two joined cells. His heart leapt with excitement as he spotted the Malfoys. They were sitting opposite one another on their respective beds, separated by the bars between their cells and eating a meal of what appeared to be soup and dry bread. Harry couldn't help noticing that when Malfoy wasn't feeling indignant or annoyed as he had been the last time, his whole body seemed to droop, his pointy, skinny limbs hanging off his curved torso like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He chewed dully on a piece of bread, and appeared to be studying a crude graffiti diagram of two naked figures in an incriminating position that he may or may not have been responsible for carving onto the back wall of his cell.
Narcissa Malfoy, to Harry's slight embarrassment, was peering through the bars of her son's cell and also looked to be studying the diagram. After a moment, she pointed an elegant finger to one of the more contorted legs of one of the figures and made what had to be derogatory comment, judging from her facial expression.
:-Enough ogling, mate,-: Sirius said, prodding Harry in the back of his mind. :-Get on with it, why don't you?-:
Harry nodded and approached the same section of the glass wall that Auror Ogburn had spelled the last time they were here. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the spell Hermione had managed to learn and put together after watching both their pensieve memories of his previous visit. Opening his eyes again, Harry began the chant, struggling not to allow his tongue to stumble over the Latin words. It took a lot longer than it had for Ogburn, but eventually Harry felt a surge of magic run through him and a doorway appeared in the wall.
"...don't care what you say, dear," Narcissa was saying. "If one is going to carve vulgar pictures into the wall of one's cell, one should at least have the decency to make sure they are anatomically accurate and physiologically possible."
"It's probably hard to be accurate when you're carving with a sharpened spoon," Malfoy pointed out. "Besides, the kind of person who would go to all the effort of - Good Lord, not you again!"
Harry had slipped both Bobsy and his Invisibility Cloak off his back, careful to keep the house elf covered until he could explain the situation. He walked up to Malfoy's cell. "Pleased to see me, Malfoy?"
"Oh yes, I'm delighted to be subjected to your gormless face and incompetent gloating for the second time in two weeks," Malfoy said. "Where are your pet Aurors? Giving you a moment alone to confess your undying jealousy and devotion to my stunning good looks in comparison to your own knobbly knees?"
"Well at least I'm not the one who's eyeing up my rival's knees," Harry snapped.
"I could hardly miss them, Potter. I saw you and the Weasel down by the lake one summer. They look like two tennis balls stuffed down a pair of stockings."
"I've grown up since then!" Harry felt himself flushing in humiliation and anger. "They don't look like that anymore."
Malfoy smirked.
"Besides," Harry continued, "At least I'm not so pointy that I can't snog anyone for fear of slicing open their cheek with my nose."
"Pointy!" Malfoy looked outraged.
:-Darling, remember why we're here,-: Lily interjected.
Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Listen, we don't have time for this."
"On the contrary, Potter," Malfoy said, stalking back to drop down on his narrow bed. "In case you hadn't noticed, I have all the time in the world. Why else would I have been reduced to discussing the physiological inaccuracies of pornographic graffiti with my own mother?"
Harry winced. "Whatever does it for you, Malfoy. I'm here to make you an offer."
Malfoy sat up and looked at him suspiciously. "An offer?"
"I'll break you out of prison in exchange for something."
"What on earth do I have that you would want? Aside from class, breeding, and a lack of Gryffindor oafishness, of course. But I'm afraid there's no way I could pass that on to anyone so uncultured."
"Ergh – as if I'd want that anyway." Harry rolled his eyes. "No – it's something your Aunt Bellatrix left you."
"Bella?" Narcissa interrupted sharply. "What is it?"
"Just a book," Harry said. "Sacrum Obitus."
Two sets of elegant eyebrows disappeared into blonde fringes.
"What on earth could you need with that old book of folk tale magic? Unless..." Narcissa's eyes flicked towards where Harry had appeared from. The Invisibility Cloak couldn't be seen as Bobsy was wearing it, but he saw sudden realisation in her eyes. "That's a very nice Invisibility Cloak you have there, Mr. Potter. Do you perhaps have a couple of equally impressive accessories to go with it?" Her eyes gleamed. "A precious stone, perhaps?"
:-Great Merlin in a teacosy,-: James muttered. :-I wish knife-sharp intelligence had been bred out of your family along with the sanity, Padfoot.-:
:-Cissy always was too sharp for her own good,-: Sirius agreed. :-But she never knew when to shut up about it.-:
Harry looked at her coldly, cursing himself for giving so much away. "It's not any of your business. I'm not offering to break you out."
"I'm not going anywhere without my mother," Malfoy said quickly.
"Draco." Narcissa reached through the bars to touch his arm. "Go, if you can. One of us free is better than none. And once you're out, you could try to find a way to sort this whole mess out. We shouldn't have been here in the first place."
Harry swallowed his pride. "Please. I really need that book. And if you come with me, I'll help you come up with a way to free your mother as well."
"Why can't she come now?"
Harry hesitated. "Do you know what your inner animal form is?" he asked Narcissa.
She nodded slowly. "A narwhale."
"A what?"
"A narwhale. A type of whale that lives in cold climates. A beautiful creature, but ultimately fairly useless as an Animagus form. That's why I never bothered to become one."
Harry turned back to Malfoy. "Her Animagus form is too big. She couldn't come even if we wanted to free her."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"If you agree to my deal, you'll see."
"I don't want to live my life on the run, thank you." Malfoy crossed his arms. "As soon as they find out I'm gone, they'll send Dementors after me or something. They'll think I've gone to join that nutter, Crouch."
"They won't know you've gone."
"What?" both Malfoys said together.
"Do you agree to the deal?"
Narcissa and Malfoy shared a long look. Then Narcissa bowed her head, and Malfoy turned back to Harry, sticking his hand through the bars. "Very well. If you can get me out of here with no one knowing, I will get that book for you."
"Swear it?"
"I swear on my magic."
Harry took the slim hand and shook it. "Let's get you out of there then. Bobsy!"
The invisibility cloak fell to the floor in a pool of silvery fabric, and Malfoy gaped. "That's our house-elf!"
"No one else would agree to take your place here, Malfoy. You really don't have many friends."
"Shut up."
"Can you get through the bars, Bobsy?" Harry gestured to the cell, and the house-elf nodded eagerly. It was a close fit, but he just managed to squeeze through with Malfoy tugging him from the other side. Had he even been Kreacher's size he wouldn't have managed it.
"Why can't he just Apparate in?" Malfoy asked. "He uses house-elf magic, not human."
"House-elf wards," Harry said absently as he began pulling vials of altered Polyjuice from his pockets and unshrinking them. "Too many of these prisoners are purebloods with house-elves who might try to rescue them."
Bobsy grinned smugly and hugged Malfoy's legs.
"You're lucky I'm so filthy," Malfoy told him. "I cannot be contaminated any further. Release me, you over-emotional little creature."
Bobsy obeyed, the harsh tone seeming to bounce off him. Harry was glad Hermione wasn't taking part in the rescue, as he had a strong suspicion she might have left Malfoy to rot at that comment.
"Now what?" Narcissa asked curiously.
Harry grinned. He was going to enjoy the next bit. "Come here, Malfoy."
Malfoy eyes his wand suspiciously. "Why? What are you going to do."
"We need a nice hefty chunk of your hair. For the Polyjuice Potion."
Malfoy clutched his hair in alarm. "No way, Potter! There's no way I'm letting you, of all people, anywhere near my hair. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Yours is a nightmare."
"Polyjuice Potion won't work on a house-elf, you stupid boy," Narcissa added, sitting down on the edge of her own bed and dropping her head into her hands. "Merlin forbid we trust a Gryffindor to make a working plan for a prison break."
"I'll have you know," Harry said to her indignantly, "that my godfather was responsible for the most infamous and impressive prison break of all time. And he was a Gryffindor."
"As if you have to remind me," Narcissa muttered. "My cousin was a shame on all the family."
:-I was the shame on the family?-: Sirius said indignantly. :-All the rest of you are either dead or in prison.-:
:-To be fair," said James, :-You could tick those boxes, too.-:
"And," Harry continued, choosing to ignore them, "I'm not stupid. This Polyjuice has been altered by George Weasley to work on house-elves."
"I'm being rescued from prison with the aid of a Weasley product? Kill me now."
Harry glared at him. "I don't remember being averse to using their products to break Death Eaters into Hogwarts."
Draco had the grace to look ashamed.
"I apologise, Mr. Potter," Narcissa added, looking as though the words were making her physically ill as she said them. "I shouldn't have judged you. And I'll cut Draco's hair if you pass me your wand. At least allow him to maintain some decency, please."
Harry hesitated.
"Mr. Potter, there is nothing I can do to you from within this cell. They have wards up. The only way I could hurt you would be if you put your hand through the bars."
:-Do it, Harry. She may be a cold, irritating, arrogant witch, but she's a woman of her word,-: Sirius advised.
Harry sighed and passed his wand through the bars.
"How much do you need?"
"Enough for all these vials. George made the potion six times as potent as ordinary Polyjuice. I know it doesn't look like much, but this should be enough for at least six months of disguise. Hopefully we will have talked the Ministry into letting you go before then. Bobsy only needs to take a small sip in the morning and one in the evening."
"Come here, Draco."
Malfoy reluctantly moved to the wall of bars separating him from his mother and submitted to a haircut. Harry felt an unexpected stab of pity when he saw the way his jaw tightened and his forehead creased into an expression that was genuinely upset. He took the locks of rather greasy blonde hair from Narcissa and dropped them one by one into the vials before corking them again. He passed them through to Bobsy, who had made a tiny tear in the lumpy mattress of Malfoy's bed and was stowing them among the stuffing so they didn't clink.
"They don't really come inside the cells that much," Narcissa assured him. "Part of their guilt at locking us up when we're technically innocent, I think. When they need us, they just drag us out." She handed Harry back his wand.
When Bobsy got to the last vial, he opened it and took a small sip. He corked it again just in time, because in the next few seconds it fell from his little hand and he doubled up with a groan. Then he began to swell. His skin seemed to melt and stretch, becoming a rather pale, sickly green which lightened and flushed a pink. Blonde hair sprouted from the swelling head and long, slender limbs emerged rapidly from the stretched and ripping pillowcase Bobsy wore.
It was only a matter of about thirty seconds before an identical, panting, and very naked Draco Malfoy slowly straightened and turned to face the others.
"I think I'm going to puke," Draco muttered. "For Salazar's sake, Bobsy, put some clothes on!"
"Bobsy doesn't want to!" the identical Dracoo said, his eyes filling up with tears. "Bobsy doesn't want to be given clothes by his Master! Bobsy doesn't want to be free!"
"I'll give them to you," Harry said, grabbing the ugly grey prison robe Draco handed him. "I can't set you free."
"Oh, thank you, Harry Potter!" The uncharacteristic look of tearful, pathetic gratefulness on the familiar pointed face, along with the gaunt, undernourished limbs and clearly evident bruises did something strange to Harry's insides. His eyes hovered on a large, purple-black bruise that spread over the fake Malfoy's hip bone and down his thigh, as though he'd been tossed roughly onto a stone floor and kicked.
:-Great Godric, the poor lad,-: Remus murmured.
"Eyes up, Potter. That's my body you're gawking over. Kindly look away, you perverted, puff-haired oaf."
Harry glanced away, flushing, as Bobsy undertook the unfamiliar task of donning proper clothing. He met the real Malfoy's defiant, humiliated gaze. "Say a word, Potter, and I swear I'll –"
"I won't say anything," Harry said quickly. "I promise."
"See that you don't." Malfoy huffed. "Now, the elf is in. How do I get out?"
Harry grinned. "That's the fun part."
Before the other young man could react, Harry thrust his hand through the bars of his cell and cast the Animagus transformation spell. The wand movement was a bit difficult with his arm trapped between the bars, but Harry managed it, and in a transformation that was much quicker than Bobsy's, Malfoy's form blurred, shrunk, and lightened, until a small, white ferret crouched on the floor where he'd been, its grey eyes wide with shock.
"Forced Animagus transfiguration," Harry told him cheerfully. "I hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but your inner animal is a ferret. I can't say I was that surprised when I worked it out. Come on out. We've really got to go. We've been here way longer than we should have, and someone might come down to check on things soon."
"You'd better be able to change him back, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said dangerously.
"I assure you, I am more than able," Harry told her. "If you won't take my word for it, then remember that I will need him in human form to get me that book."
Malfoy-the-ferret slunk awkwardly through the bars, obviously uneasy in his new form. His body quivered, and his little white ears lay flat against his head. If Harry were truthful with himself, he couldn't help thinking that Malfoy as a ferret was disturbingly cute.
When Harry reached out to pick him up, Malfoy backed away hurriedly.
"How else do you think you'll get out, you idiot?" Harry snapped. "Come on! Look, I'll just put you in my pocket."
He indicated the large pocket Hermione had magically sewn onto the front of his shirt. The ferret's head drooped in resignation, and Harry reached out to pick him up as gently as he could. He couldn't help thinking of the bruises he'd seen on Bobsy's borrowed body, and he could feel the sharp outline of Malfoy's ribcage through the fine white fur.
Harry dropped him into his pocket and received a sharp nip on his fingers in retaliation.
:-Do you mind if I take over here?-: Remus asked. :-I'm better at memory modification charms than you, and those guards are going to need a bit of work.-:
:-Are you sure?-: Harry asked. :-I have been practising the right wand movement and everything.-:
:-Seriously, mate,-: Sirius said, :-Moony is the king of memory charms. He could do them in first year at school.-:
:-First year?-: Harry was aghast. :-They're NEWT level stuff.-:
:-When you have a secret as big as mine, you make sure you can protect it if you need to.-: Remus's voice was quiet, but matter-of-fact. :-Obliviate was the first spell I ever learned. I got it from a book I stole from my father's study the summer before I came to Hogwarts.-:
Harry shook his head. "Alright, Malfoy?" he asked, looking down at the pointy, disgruntled little face peering out of his pocket. "Alright, Bobsy?"
"Alright, Harry Potter," Bobsy said, waving from the cell. "Bobsy won't let you down, Master!" He seemed a lot more confident now he had helped to free Malfoy.
"Then let's get this show on the road," Harry said and swung the Invisibility Cloak over his head and shoulders.
:-Over to you, Remus. Memory modification, lift, and out. We'll be home by dinnertime. I can't believe this actually worked.-:
:-Nor I,-: Remus admitted, taking over.
"Draco?"
Remus turned Harry's body to look at Narcissa and Malfoy peered at her from over the edge of the pocket.
"You know the Slytherin way. Run while you can and live to get revenge. I love you, my dragon. Take care of yourself."
The ferret nodded, and Remus stepped out.
Harry was content. He was one step closer to having his family back for real.
