Chapter #11 Kaleidoscope

When Ron came to, a very pale man was standing over him.

"Yeesh!" Ron yelped. "I don't play for that team!"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "Neither do I." He had white-blond hair, a pointed chin and his skin was so pale, he could have been an albino but for his emotionless grey eyes. "I'm not here to play at all, and neither are you."

Can you say, over his head? Ron thought. "Where's Hermione?" he demanded.

"In the Palace, with the Prince," drawled the man.

"Well, then, where am I?"

"The Cave of Despair," drawled the man ominously.

'Which would be where?"

"I can't tell you that," the man replied helpfully, shaking his head.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron snorted. "You must be Guilderian." He tried to raise his head, but couldn't. In fact, the only part of his body that he could move was his face. (Jaw included, of course, or else how could he talk?) "What's the deal with my leg? Why can't I move?"

"The Potion that the Count prescribed for your leg only works if the rest of the body is immobile," Draco explained. "Only your face can move. It will help your leg heal faster."

"Why do they want my leg healed?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"How can it be a fair test if the lab rat is sick?" Draco countered, grinning.

PBHP

The Malfoys had actually been a fairly prominent family in Florin – 500 years ago. 500 years ago, Lord Acheron Malfoy had had dreams of becoming the king of Florin, except that, like in Macbeth, he wasn't actually heir to the throne. So he tried to usurp it. (As you do.) However, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington got in the way of my Lord's sword, and was practically decapitated, and definitely dead. But he did save King Regulus. (This was part of the reason why there weren't too many nobles in Florin at the present time, so as to reduce usurpation attempts.) Anyway, to cut a long story short, as punishment, the Malfoys had to serve the nobility. Working upwards from being pages for knights, and clerks for squires, the Malfoys could better themselves, as shown by who they worked for. Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, had reached the top. He was chief of security to the king – or really, to Prince Viktor, since King Cornelius hadn't been on the top of his game lately. As stated back in Chapter #2, Prince Viktor suspected his stepmother. Everyone else suspected Lucius.

Anyway, because of his father having such a prominent position in Florinese society, Draco had been elevated, without much merit of his own, to service rendered to Count Snape, which was how he had come to be the man in the Cave of Despair.

PBHP

Hermione was faring hardly better than Ron. Oh, sure, she could move around, but a month stuck in Hogwarts Castle with nothing to do but curtsey to her future in-laws and visiting dignitaries was exceedingly dull, even with the moving staircases. There was only so many times one could get lost, you see.

And that was just during the day. When darkness fell and Hermione was claimed by sleep, the nightmares began. King Cornelius died, the wedding to Prince Viktor was pushed forward, Rita Skeeter published defamatory articles about her in the Daily Planet – I mean, the Daily Prophet. (I always get those two mixed up). King Cornelius died, the wedding to Prince Viktor was pushed forwards, nine months later Hermione had a daughter, which was bad because a son was needed to become heir, and the daughter wouldn't take Hermione's milk. King Cornelius died, the wedding to Prince Viktor was pushed forwards, nine months later Hermione had a son, which was good because of the heir thing, but the son refused to see her.

Variations on a theme, really, but not the one you might think.

Certainly, Hermione was skittish about her impending marriage to Prince Viktor, but it was more the fact that all of her nightmares could potentially happen, and all because, after surviving the Forbidden Forest with Ron, once they had made their perilous way through it, she had rejected him.

But I saved his life, Hermione tried to tell her conscience. They would have killed him without a second thought, otherwise!

Hermione's conscience stuck her fingers in her ears and trilled loudly, "La, la, la, la, la, I can't hear you, la, la, la, la, la!"

Did I mention that Hermione's conscience's name was Ginny, and that she looked like a female version of Ron, only shorter and with brown eyes?

At the end of the month, when Ron's leg was nearly healed, Hermione was fed up. She stormed into a meeting between Prince Viktor and Lucius Malfoy, the head of security, and demanded that she be allowed to make contact with Ron. "I love him," she declared. "I always have, and I always will. I don't wish to be rude, my liege, but if you will not release me from our engagement, I'm afraid I will be obliged to throw myself off the Lightning-Struck Tower." (This was after lightning was recognised as a phenomenon.)

"Ah," said Prince Viktor, eloquently. "Are you sure that you want to do that, my dear? Think of the people. It's so close to Sir Nicholas's five-hundredth Deathday. Surely you don't want to, er, rain on his parade, so to speak?" (Since this was after soldiers, it was also after parades.)

In her heart of hearts, Hermione didn't really care about Sir Nicholas's Deathday, but it was a national holiday. Since it was akin to treason to voice these sorts of thoughts, she kept silent and merely scowled.

Prince Viktor turned to Lucius. "A little help?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"If I may, your highness," Lucius said smoothly, perhaps a letter to … Ron, was it? That might do the trick."

"Yes! Absolutely!" cried Viktor and Hermione together. (This was part of the reason why Hermione was so bored. No one argued with her.)

"Dear Ron," Hermione began dreamily. "I know you must despise me at the present time, but believe me when I say I have no wish to live without you. If you force me to try, I will kill myself. Come back to me, my dear one. I love you so. Your own, Hermione."

Lucius privately thought that Hermione might have had a career writing sonnets – or maybe even romance novels, except this was before novels, and whoever heard of a decent woman having a career?

Prince Viktor privately thought wondered if Hermione was smoking Floo Powder, to be able to make such a short note both saccharine and macabre. "My dear," he said aloud to her, "as I'm not omniscient, I don't rightly know where Ron could be. He could be in America by now. I tell you what – I'll send a copy of your letter with each of my four fastest ships in the four main compass directions. If one of them finds him, and he still wants you, why, if he comes back to claim you, I shall relinquish him to you."

"You are too kind," Hermione said, curtseying. She hurried from the room to find parchment and a quill. On her way out, she almost barrelled into the Count, who could hardly contain his sadistic grin.

"It's ready, your highness!" he cried as soon as she had left the room. "The Potion is ready!"

"What potion?" the Prince demanded.

"The liquefied Cruciatus curse!" cried the Count, hopping from one foot to the other in his agitation.

"Well, test it on the captive already," Prince Viktor said impatiently. "Dismissed!"

The Count bowed and raced from the room, from the castle itself, to the Cliffs of Insanity, which concealed the Cave of Despair – where Ron was, remember? With feverish attention, the Count prepared the area – a Catherin wheel, a stone basin full of the Potion, a long-handled teaspoon, and a jug. Ron was tied to the Catherin wheel, and would have resembled da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, except that this was before da Vinci.

"You've not been trained in Occlumency, I presume?" Count Snape asked Ron as he dipped the jug into the basin.

"The art of what?" Ron said warily, eyeing the long-handled spoon.

"Open wide," said Snape pleasantly, dipping the spoon into the jug. Ron kept his mouth tight shut. Snape pressed the spoon against Ron's mouth. "Drink, you imbecile!"

Draco hurried over and wrenched Ron's jaw open. A drop of the Potion fell into Ron's mouth, and that was quite enough.

Repressed memories of Ron's life before he was taken in by the Grangers began to flash before his eyes as though film, except this was before celluloid.

A blue box named the Tardis, which was much bigger on the inside than the outside … a talking lion that wasn't tame … a broken sword, a wizard returned from the dead and a huge eye suspended in mid-air … strange glowing swords that hummed, and an unwelcome paternity revelation … a man in blue, red and yellow Spandex who could fly without a broomstick … a woman in a body of water, holding out a sword to a man …

And then came the not-so-nice images, like vampires in serious need of plastic surgery … a kid who sees dead people … a woman being stabbed in the shower … a man almost decapitated by a crop duster … Beowulf

And then there were the ones that were just plain weird … fashion of the 1970s … a baboon holding up a lion cub … the last few Roman emperors … Borat … Paris Hilton …

At that point, Ron freaked out so much he came back to himself, still tied to the Catherine wheel. "What the bloody hell was that?" he demanded, as soon as the strange image of a scantily-clad, blonde blowfly had flown from his mind.

"The Potion," replied the Count, a sadistic grin twisting his sallow face/

"That was informative," Ron commented.

"I will test you again tomorrow," the Count told him as Draco untied Ron, still immobile, and moved him onto the wooden slat that served as his bed. (Ron's bed, not Draco's. Go back to the beginning of the chapter, you sick-minded people!)

"I look forward to it," Ron said into the silence that ensued when both the Count and Draco had left the room.

OK, I know I've said this before, but this is a pre-DH story, so if you are a Severus fan (such as myself), a Draco fan (such as my friend wiccabookworm), a Percy fan (such as regular reviewer books4evah) or a Viktor fan (I don't actually know of any) I'm sorry to disappoint.

Acknowledgements: Hermione's nightmares are taken directly from The Princess Bride (book, not film, which is why there are three). The Draco/Lucius/Nick thing is entirely my own idea. Even though I didn't create the characters. Ron's hallucinatory experience is based off a similar scene in The Count of Monte Christo (book version – I read it over the Christmas holidays and realise I should have started with The Three Musketeers, which is much shorter). The potion which induces Ron's hallucinations is, ostensibly, the one which caused Dumbledore so much anguish in HBP26. The point of Ron's hallucinations was to tie this back to real life. I'm not sure I succeeded.

Next chapter: 'The Cold-Blooded Prince.' Hagrid and Harry find Ron, to all intents and purposes dead, and take him to Amazing Albus's. Reviews are always appreciated!