Chapter 25 – Draco's Errand List
The early morning silence was broken with a popping noise as Draco Apparated in front of the Potter home.
Dobby was all too happy to show "Master Draco" to the living room, where Harry was propped up on some pillows watching television.
Draco was pleased to see that Harry had put on some weight – he no longer looked like a human skeleton. However, although the emerald eyes were as bright and sharply alert as ever, his features were still shrunken and gaunt.
Lord, he's such a mess. How the hell did he live long enough to get to us?
"Draco! What are you doing here this early in the morning?" Harry's face broken into a smile when he saw his former partner.
Draco shrugged. "Busy day today, I need some advice from your wife."
"Oh, you feel my advice isn't good enough?"
"I rather doubt it. Would you have any idea how I should act with a young sister, about four years old or so?'
Harry was silent.
"You're having me on. No. Of course you aren't. Four years old?"
"Yes. It appears my dear father hasn't quite lacked for companionship in his years on the run."
Harry's eyes widened. "Right. Right, I'd forgotten you were going to see him. How did that go? What did he want?"
Draco stared at the wall – he really didn't want Harry's probing eyes to read anything from his face.
"Oddly enough, he just wanted to see how his son was doing and tell me about my sister."
Harry was quiet a moment before saying, "How detailed did your contact report for Amos have to be?"
"Didn't have to mention my sister, if that's what you mean. Amos let me get away with merely writing "personal family matters" on the report. Quite frankly, for obvious reasons, the less known about that the better."
Harry nodded in understanding. He locked eyes with Draco.
"So, how do you feel about it?"
Draco pondered for a moment. "I know it sounds odd, but it was one of the most pleasant times I've ever spent with my father. And much to my utter amazement, when I really think about it, I'm rather chuffed to think I have a sister. I'm taking Tonya to meet her today, and then I have to go by Ron's house."
Harry arched an eyebrow.
"Things getting that serious with Tonya?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. I just know I'm sure as hell not going there alone, and Tonya's good with kids. She was a pediatric dentist, you know."
Harry gave a wan smile. "So I've heard. My wife isn't too hot on her."
Was it just me, or was there a subtle emphasis on "my wife"?
Draco dodged. "I suppose so. I don't understand why, but it's been that way ever since we met her."
Harry – to Draco's amazement – actually snorted, before continuing with a sly grin on his face.
"Quite easy to understand, really, Ginny doesn't like competition. Never has. And I don't think she enjoyed Tonya taking your time while I was, er, deceased."
Subtle emphasis? What the hell was I thinking? This is Harry-Subtle-As-An-Avada-Kedavra-Potter I'm talking about. His idea of subtle would be a parade in Trafalgar Square.
Then again…
Is that Harry's way of saying, "I know what almost happened with you and Ginny while I was gone, and I will not hold it against you?"
Or is saying "I know what almost happened and you better watch yourself around her"?
Or is he saying both?
For once, Draco was at a loss for words.
It's not like you didn't know this was coming.
Damn, damn, damn.
"It's good to have you back, Harry."
Please let's drop it.
Harry smiled. "It's good to be back. And I feel loads better. Hey, look, I can walk across the room!"
Draco watched as Harry gingerly climbed out of bed and took several haltering steps across the room, leaned against the wall for a moment, and limped back to the bed. He had a broad grin, and seemed to pay no mind to the film of perspiration that had appeared across his brow.
He used to be so vigorous. Of course, I don't want to think what condition I would be in if I was the Dark Lord's captive for two years straight.
"Looking good, Harry. Looking real good."
"I've set a goal. Two steps further each day. And I've got motivation. I can't leave this house until I can move around, you know, it's just not safe."
Draco didn't comment. It was obvious that Harry couldn't leave the house without massive assistance, and it was equally obvious that he would never leave the house until he could defend himself because he would not want to jeopardize his escort.
"That reminds me, Draco, I've quite a favor to ask of you."
Draco didn't hesitate. "Name it and it's yours."
"Well, you know how bad I feel that the Ministry is going crazy trying to reinforce all the security measures and wards that I told Voldemort about-"
Draco interrupted Harry.
"None of that, Harry, it's not your fault. He had you for two years. There's no humanly possible way you could have resisted."
Harry continued, "Well, still, the Ministry is re-casting or changing all the wards I worked on as an Auror, and redesigning the defenses, which is all very well and good, but there's a private orphanage I set up, outside Hogsmeade…and, well, it's private, not governmental, see?"
Draco nodded. "And the Ministry can't spare the manpower to fix the wards you cast because Voldemort is back in action exploiting every weakness he can find to try to destabilize Arthur."
"Precisely. My escape foiled Riddle's latest plan to mess with the world, so he's lashing out just to create fear until he can come up with a new scheme. Tom's getting rather predictable in his old age, I'm afraid," Harry concluded with a harsh laugh.
"Say no more. As I said, I have to go to Ron's later, I'll bring him and we'll do it together."
Harry was obviously pleased. "Thanks, Draco. Any update on Operation Flamel?"
Lately, they had started to refer to the long-standing attempt to trick Voldemort into going after a non-existent Sorcerer's Stone as "Operation Flamel." Draco knew that Harry was anxious for some good news.
"Well, it's tricky. I think we should slow down the leaks of the progress we're making, to make it look like we're not getting anywhere for a while."
Harry nodded. "Excellent idea. I would be most upset if you lured Tom into your web before I was recovered enough to take part in the battle."
"Yes, we're back to being governed by the Prophecy again. After you "died", there were two schools of thought – one school thought – hoped – that just because you were "the one" with the power to defeat the Dark Lord, didn't mean that you were the only one."
"Well, it doesn't make sense that if I fail, the world is doomed to suffer the Eternal Darkness of Tom."
You can joke about it, Harry, but when we thought you were dead, we really started to wonder.
"The other school of thought had a more select membership."
Harry's face was grim.
"Enlighten me."
"Ron, Hermione, Ginny and I…we thought…"
Draco looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and looked straight at Harry.
"We thought Sirius might also be one who could fulfill the Prophecy."
Harry paled, and then became angry.
"That is NOT acceptable. I refuse to believe that. I refuse to believe that if I fail, my SON is going to have to face that GOD DAMNED MONSTER! It cannot be true! It IS NOT TRUE!"
Harry's voice became more agitated, raising to a shout at the end. His eyes glittered with anger, and his whole body became tense, before he suddenly relaxed with an audible release of breath and sank back into his pillows.
"No, no, no…it doesn't make sense. I mean, Ginny and I have defied him much more than thrice, damn it, right?"
Draco spoke softly. "We just don't know. We couldn't exactly consult most experts in these matters, we sure didn't want to draw attention to Sirius, but we just don't know. Does the Prophecy mean that you have to defy Voldemort exactly three times or at least three times? Sirius was born at the end of July. Coincidence? We just weren't sure. All we knew for sure is that we would all do everything we could to defend Sirius if we had to."
"I know. And it won't come to that." Harry's voice was flat.
"You sound sure."
"I am. I'm going to kill Tom, and Sirius will have a normal life. End of story."
Draco didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. He was sure that Harry's good mood was ruined, so he was a bit surprised by Harry's next statement.
"Feel like doing me a second favor, since I'm sort of stuck here? You'll like this one."
Draco realized it was going to be a long day.
Harry was right. His idea of a favor appealed to Draco to no end.
There were a few more things to discuss. Much to Draco's surprise, Harry thought that it was a good sign that Lucius knew that Draco didn't have Kyrene's Syndrome. He told Draco that he knew very well that Lucius was bound by powerful Dark Magic and could not betray Voldemort – but he also thought that Lucius was such a powerful adversary that it might actually be possible to arrange sanctuary for Lucius outside of Britain if he would merely adapt a stance of neutrality.
Draco was reminded once again that Harry did have quite the inner Slytherin when it suited him.
Finally, Draco took his leave of Harry and went to find Ginny, who was "somewhere outside", according to Harry.
Draco was beginning to feel like a bit of an idiot, walking around the grounds calling for Ginny before a voice from high above said, "Oi! Draco, up here!"
A quick Apparation later, and Draco was on the roof of the Potter house with Ginny.
"I suppose you know I must ask why you're on your roof."
Ginny shrugged, lay down on her back, and stared at the sky.
"Late at night and early morning are the only times I have to myself lately. Between Sirius, Elizabeth and Harry, I think I have three children. I like to fly in the mornings and just get away from everything while the kids are sleeping."
Draco smiled, "Harry's awake, you know."
Ginny said, "Yes, he's up early this morning, and he's in a good mood, thank God. He's getting better, but his mood swings are awful."
Draco idly said, "I suppose that's to be expected, after what he's been through."
"He should be insane. He's slowly been telling me what they did to him. I would have killed myself rather than suffer what he's been through. I don't know how he goes on."
Draco laid down next to Ginny. "Would you really? If you thought there was a chance that you'd see Sirius and Elizabeth again? Would you really kill yourself?"
Ginny turned to look at Draco. "Don't forget, he was told that Sirius and Elizabeth were dead, and believed it until your father started dropping hints that Harry was foolish to believe anything his enemies told him."
Draco thought about that a bit. "He said something about that earlier. How, exactly, did my father hint that?"
"Harry lost it one day and started screaming at Lucius that his Death Eater friends had killed his children. Lucius mocked Harry and said something about how he pathetic he had become, and that his fellow Aurors would hate to see him the way he was, forgetting all his training."
"And how, exactly, did this give Harry hope that his children were alive?"
"Lucius said, roughly, something like, "You were an opponent who I could respect once, if at least for your intelligence. Now you're broken so far that you've forgotten everything you've ever learned! I don't know why you're even speaking with me – you should know better. I am your enemy, and you should know better than to waste your breath speaking with me, or paying the least mind to anything your enemies say. Words are weapons just like wands, Potter, and you should know that they can do just as much damage, especially if you are foolish enough to take them seriously."
"Interesting. What did Harry say?"
"Nothing, it took him a minute to figure it out, and by then Lucius had gone. But it made him think that maybe Lucius was doing him a favor by telling him that perhaps he had been lied to about his children being dead."
Click.
"I think my father is playing a very dangerous game. It's more vital than ever that I speak with Ron and Hermione. Thanks, Ginny, I have to run."
Ginny idly waved at Draco as he disappeared with a POP!.
Draco was so absorbed in thinking about his father that he had totally forgotten to tell Ginny about his sister.
Tonya Bellingham was still sleeping when Draco started knocking on her door.
"Coming, coming, coming, for God's sake stop that pounding."
She opened the door to find a somewhat nervous-looking Draco pacing back and forth in front of her flat.
"What's going on, Draco?"
"It's been an interesting twenty-four hours and I need your help with a little problem."
"A problem that needs you to drag me out of bed early Saturday morning?"
Draco was slightly indignant. "It's nine o'clock, that's hardly early."
"It is when you've been out dancing all night."
Draco arched an eyebrow.
"Not with anyone as handsome as myself, I trust?"
Tonya laughed, a rich lively sound.
"That would be impossible. Of course, it's entirely possible that I could grow tired of your commitment issues and decide that a less-attractive, and dare I say, less magical man may snap me up."
"Perish the thought. You want magic, I'll show you magic. I need you to fly with me somewhere."
"Where, pray tell, do we need to go? I'm somewhat cranky and don't really feel like dealing with the security Gestapo at Gatwick at the moment."
Draco gave Tonya a puzzled look. "Gestapo?"
Tonya shook her head in mock disgust.
"We really do have to get you a proper education."
"At least I know what Gatwick is, and let me assure you that we won't have to deal with that Muggle horror."
Tonya gave Draco a playful slap on the shoulder and said, "Watch what you say about us Muggles, although I must agree that Gatwick is indeed the epitome of evil. We're flying from a private strip, then?"
Draco smiled.
"Oh yes, a quite exclusive strip indeed."
Five minutes, an Enlarging Charm on a shrunken broomstick, and a quick Disillusionment charm later, a smirking Draco and a screaming Tonya soared into the sky from the roof of Tonya's flat.
Half an hour later, they landed about half a kilometer away from the address that Lucius had given Draco.
"I am going to make you pay for that, Draco. Wizard or not, I will make you suffer like I have."
Draco thought that Tonya's windblown hair was rather flattering to her angry, brilliant eyes.
"I didn't think you would mind. I mean, you fly those explosive Muggle aeroplanes yourself."
"I understand how they work, Draco, it's a matter of control and respect. How would you like it if I slipped a small piece of wood between your legs, enlarged it into a broom and took off into the sky without so much a word of warning?"
"I thought you liked surprises."
"Well, yes, it was kind of thrilling once I was used to it, although that barrel roll was totally uncalled for."
"I like making you hold me tight."
Draco said that with a smile, but inwardly he as a bit concerned. The broom had, in truth, been somewhat difficult to control for some reason. It disturbed Draco, and he resolved to have the broom inspected at the earliest opportunity.
"Draco, if I wasn't afraid I was about to plummet to a most ugly death, that tight grip would have been around your neck instead of your abdomen. Now, where the hell are we?"
Draco turned somber. "I met with my father yesterday."
Tonya had some idea of the history between Draco and his father. She said nothing.
"It appears I have a four year old sister. I want to meet her, but I don't know how to behave, and, as you, Hermione and Ginny continually point out, I occasionally have the emotional depth of – what was it?"
Tonya replied in a flat voice, "A teacup."
"Ah, yes, a teacup. Yes. I thought you would be able to give me some support."
Tonya looked Draco in the eye.
"So, do you need someone here for this, or do you need me here for this?"
"I need someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"Someone who is good with kids, who gives a damn about me, and someone who I trust to be around for a while."
Tonya was a bit stunned at this rather un-Draco like declaration.
"Fair enough. Let's meet the sister."
Five minutes later, a disappointed Draco was helping Tonya remount the broom.
Draco had been prepared for almost anything – anything, except for the fact that his sister and her mother were not home.
Tonya remarked idly, "Well, that was rather anti-climactic, don't you think?"
Draco shrugged.
"I'm sorry. You were really excited about this, weren't you?"
Draco was frank. "I don't know how I felt."
"I understand. Sometimes you toss a lot of emotions around, and nothing happens, and you don't know how to feel. Did they know you were coming?"
Tonya didn't say what she really wanted to ask, do they even know you exist?
Thankfully, Draco answered her unspoken question.
"No. Father told them I would possibly be dropping by, but he didn't say when."
Tonya changed the subject, with a hopeful tone in her voice.
"So, since I accompanied you on this fruitless journey, might I get you to spend the day with a girl who has the day off and just wants to have fun?"
"I have too many errands to do, but I can promise you a night at a good Italian restaurant."
"Bah. I'll hold out for better. Most Italian restaurants in London serve dreck."
Draco knew exactly what would mollify her.
"Quite right you are, but it doesn't really matter, since the restaurant I have in mind is in Italy."
Tonya squealed with delight.
"I know you well enough to know that you're not joking, but my flat is a mess and I have no idea where my passport is, and it could take me hours to find it."
"Don't worry, my little Muggle friend. Draco the Mighty Wizard can just whisk you away, and my Auror privileges with allow me to clear Italian Wizarding Customs with you as my guest."
"That sounds just exotic enough that I will overlook your "little Muggle friend" crack and let you take me home."
And with that, they soared into the sky.
A while later, Draco Apparated in front of Ron and Hermione's house, having shrunk his broomstick – it was great for flying Tonya around on, but Apparating was much more efficient, though not nearly as fun.
Not bothering to knock, Draco walked into the house. He was greeted with a sight that dumbfounded him so much he was rendered incapable of speech.
Hermione Weasley was propped up on the couch, hair in some sort of weird Muggle contraption, some odd goo on her face. This, in itself, did not surprise him – Hermione, although rather plain for Draco's taste, occasionally felt the need to be more "girl-like" and would attempt to make herself more feminine – a phenomena that usually occurred when she felt that some other female was getting a bit too flirty with Ron at work.
Draco knew she needn't worry – Ron's unshakable loyalty aside, Draco didn't know a single female – with the possible exception of Ginny Potter – who wasn't absolutely terrified of Hermione Weasley.
Hermione's latest attempt at self-beautification did not surprise Draco.
The sight of Hermione watching television, however – while her husband sat with his nose buried in a book, no less – was almost more than he could bear.
"Ahem."
Both Weasleys looked up, neither surprised to see Draco, standing, unannounced in their house.
"Hi, Draco," said Ron, in a totally disinterested voice.
"Hi, Draco," said Hermione, in a identically disinterested voice.
Draco's darted to the television, then to Ron's book, then to the television, and finally back to the book.
"Let me guess. You two, in your never-ending quest to discover new forms of monogamous sexual perversions known to man, have decided to Polyjuice into each other just to see sex from the other's perspective."
Hermione actually snorted.
"REALLY, Draco, even in the gutter I must confess your mind can be terribly creative. That has never even occurred to us."
Ron's voice sounded from behind the book that once again hid his face.
"Might be kind of an interesting idea, 'Mione."
"Thank you, Ron, no. There is no way I am allowing you to turn into me and seeing just how fat I really am."
"You're nowhere near fat, Hermione."
"And you can be a dear. No, let's focus on why we have a guest, who seems to be baffled by you reading and me watching the telly."
Draco smiled as he said, "Well, it does seem a bit out of character."
Hermione shrugged. "A girl has to unwind somehow. And besides, it's not out of character for Ron. Look at what he's reading."
Ron waved the book cover slightly in the air.
Great Moments in Quidditch History"Ah. Of course. Ron, you'll love why I'm here."
Ron put the book down.
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. But first, I need both of you to give me some advice."
An hour later, a very serious Hermione and Ron had not only heard Draco talk about his meeting with his father, but had actually insisted on viewing parts of the meeting in a Penseive.
"So, what do you think?"
Ron's reply as immediate. "He's obviously trying to tell you something, something he can't directly say, something he wants Hermione to figure out. You say Harry thinks there's a chance Dad will grant him amnesty?"
"Not amnesty, exile. Big difference."
"Either way, it means an end to life on the run."
Draco nodded, and said, "Not to mention a bigger price on his head from Voldemort than even Snape."
"That too."
Hermione spoke up. "This is very, very disturbing. I have an idea what he's talking about, but I need to do more research."
Draco looked at Hermione. "Hermione, what was your article that Father was talking about?"
She looked down at the floor.
"Among other things, reanimating the dead."
Draco grasped the point immediately.
"What would be the purpose?"
Ron chose to answer this one.
"I should think it would be obvious. To hurt you, of course."
Draco's voice was cold. "Jennifer DePorter is dead, irrevocably gone. Anything that Voldemort reanimates would be a lifeless, soulless shell, and I would not hesitate to destroy it."
Hermione nodded, but added, "There might be darker implications. I'm not sure. I promise, Draco, I will get to the bottom of this."
They were quiet for a minute before Ron said, "You said I would love your reason for coming here. What's up, Draco?"
Draco smiled. "I need your help to reinforce the wards on an orphanage that Harry supports. But first, I need you with me on a little errand."
"An errand? Will I like it?"
"Oh yeah."
Roderick Plumpton slowly turned his cloth over, polishing the wood of the ancient Cleansweep as he had done countless thousands of time before.
Three quarters of a century ago, he had been one of the greats. Even though he was past his prime, and could no longer compete professionally, he still tried to play in the Senior League at least once a week. His long eyesight was still sharp enough to make him a formidable presence on the Quidditch patch – and his record for the fastest catch of a snitch, although frayed by a close shave by that young Potter lad, was still intact.
Plumpton had played, professionally, well into his late sixties. Now, he was well over a hundred years old, but still enjoyed beating players who were twenty years younger.
He could not leave Quidditch behind. He tried announcing for awhile, but it didn't suit him very well. His current post of Curator of the Quiddich Museum of Britain allowed him to walk through history.
Of course, his painstaking care of the relics entrusted to his care was occasionally interrupted by unwelcome distractions – like the voices that were echoing from the west wing.
"Hey, Draco, look! A Championship Trophy from the Cannons!"
"Funny, I thought that only existed in myth."
Plumpton walked up to the young men who were disrupting the quiet of his museum.
"Gentlemen, this museum is closed until noon. How did you get in?"
Draco flashed Auror credentials at the aged Quidditch star, whose unimpressed reaction stood in direct contrast to that of the front door clerk who had let them in "just a wee bit early, should be ok, seein' as 'ow it's you, Mr. Malfoy."
'Well, well, if you're here to investigate a theft, gentlemen, you are quite late. There hasn't been a theft from this museum since 1959."
Ignoring Draco's muttered, "we're AURORS for God's sake, not Magical Law Enforcement", Ron tried to pacify the old man.
"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, sir, but we're here to pick up something, and I really wanted to get in early so that I could meet you – I've admired you ever since I saw a replay of that catch against Russia in the World Cup."
Plumpton brightened. "Well, I suppose I can excuse enthusiasm in someone who has a respect for the history of the Noble Sport. What can I do for you gentlemen?"
Ron silently showed the parchment he was carrying to Plumpton, who held it at arm's length while scanning it with a muttered, "old eyes, you know, but the long vision is still there, oh yes…"
His face fell, but showed acceptance as he read the document.
He handed it back to Ron.
"I suppose it is in order. I knew this was coming, ever since Mr. Potter's return, but still, it'll be sad to see it go. It is quite a draw for the Museum, you know."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "People really come just to see it?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Even setting aside this particular model's history, the Firebolt has been on the market for over a decade, and nothing has been introduced to match it in competition in all that time. As far as I am aware, all production models are either in active use or have been destroyed in accidents. This is the only one on public display in all of Britain."
Plumpton said this as they walked down a hall, stopping in front of a case containing a broom. The case had a small plaque mounted at the front.
Harry Potter's FIREBOLTManf. 1994 – one of the first production runs
Given to Mr. Potter by the late Sirius Black
First ridden in competition at Hogwarts
On indefinite loan from the Potter Family
Draco shook his head. "I can't count the number of times Harry embarrassed me with this damned broom."
Plumpton's eyes widened.
"Oh! Mr. Malfoy! Forgive me, I didn't recognize you! I hope you're not here to claim YOUR broom back as well!"
Draco looked at the curator with confusion.
"My broom?"
"Why, yes, your Nimbus Two Thousand One. It's undergoing restoration downstairs, we were hoping to include it over there." Plumpton gestured to a wall where several brooms, uniforms and assorted Quidditch gear was displayed under a great sign reading HOGWARTS HOUSE TEAMS – FIRST TASTE OF GREATNESS FOR MANY RISING STARS.
Draco walked up to the wall in shock.
"You have my entire kit up there."
"Oh, yes, a most generous loan from your mother. A charming woman, if I may say so."
Ron snickered.
Draco really has no idea how to handle the fact that his childhood Quidditch foibles are being enshrined in a museum. I think he's actually touched.
Draco pointed excitedly to his old Slytherin Quidditch robes.
"Look, right there, you can see where I mended it after Cho Chang ran her broom into my wand pocket!"
Forget touched. Make the ecstatic. I think in
his own way he needs acceptance even more than Harry does.
No wonder they both fell in love with my sister.
Say what you will about her, she lets you know when she thinks you're
worth a damn.
Ron's idle thoughts were interrupted by Plumpton handing him Harry's old broom.
"Make sure this gets back to its owner safely, young man. I was very pleased to hear of Mr. Potter's, er, return, even if I knew it meant I would lose one of my best exhibits."
"Come on, Malfoy, let's go see how Harry's orphans are doing."
It took a few minutes to pull a still-excited Malfoy away from a sign reading "Slytherin Championships Over The Years."
"See, I TOLD you that Slytherin historically ran Gryffindor into the dirt."
Ron sighed.
A few minutes later, each bearing a shrunken broom, the two Aurors were walking up a country lane that led to a large, pleasant house that had at least a dozen children playing in front of it, under the watchful eye of two matronly-looking women.
Ron remarked idly, "Wow, this is sure isolated."
Draco nodded. "I guess Harry wanted it to be defensible in case of attack – the wards are supposed to be pretty intense. Most of the children are either half-bloods or Muggleborns."
Ron knew this too – after all, the reason most of these children were orphans was because their parents had been targeted by Voldemort or perished fighting him. Rich pureblood families often adopted the war orphans of other pureblood families – but families with no real ties to the wizarding world other than their children didn't have the same support structure.
This, of course, made the orphanage a potential target of Voldemort.
Draco and Ron both shared the same thought, as they watched curious children turn to look at them.
Bastard.
Although the two women were obviously watching the two men with slight suspicion, the children were already calling out to the strangers. A small brown-haired boy seemed unusually excited, and was already waving to Draco.
Ron looked at the children and spoke to Draco.
"Buggers are kind of cute, aren't they?"
"Yeah, but there's a problem with them. If you feed them, they grow."
Ron smiled.
"So are they always cooped up here?"
"No, Harry said they Portkey to Hogsmeade every other weekend or so."
Ron stopped, and looked at the house with an Auror's eye. He waved his wand around in what appeared to be an almost idle motion, but Draco knew he was sensing the wards.
"Good work. Even Bill would be almost impressed."
"Almost?"
"My brother has very high standards."
"Unusual for a Weasley."
Ron wasn't fazed.
"True. I mean, look at how my sister almost fell for you."
Ron wasn't deliberately trying to bait Draco – the words slipped out before he could stop them, an instinctive response in a friendship that had begun in near-hatred and had grown and developed – with wars of escalating insults along the way – into something that had resulted in both of the men routinely risking their lives for each other.
Draco, for his part, was amazed that he could hear a reference to Ginny – and the relationship that almost but never was – without the usual piercing pain through his belly.
Does that mean I'm getting over her, or does it mean that I've just accepted it?Draco shot a neutral look at a clearly horrified Ron, who was waiting for an explosion – or worse, a patented "Draco-sulk", which Draco knew Ron didn't want to deal with.
He decided to let Ron off the hook.
"No, that's just proof that at least one Weasley is smart enough to take advantage of a shallow but incredibly charming and wealthy twit like myself."
Ron smiled, obviously relieved.
"So, what's the plan?"
Draco's voice was all business.
"Harry can't remember if he told them the secrets behind the wards when he broke under torture. So, he wants us to reinforce them and add a few twists."
Ron nodded. "Easy enough. Let's go introduce ourselves. Those two witches look like they're getting ready to hex us."
"Forget about the witches, I'm more scared of the children."
"I would have thought that after Sirius and Elizabeth no children could scare you ever again."
"Bite your tongue, Weasel-boy, I'm still having nightmares about that night I babysat them."
"Well, at least – "
Draco suddenly felt something odd – could it –
Shit.
Draco yelled out, "TRIGGER!"
Simultaneous with Draco's words, both Aurors pulled their wands out.
Several things happened at once.
The two witches watching the children moved as a team, as one shot a Stunning spell at Ron – who easily blocked it – as the other witch actually accio'd several children and tried to direct them into the house.
Draco spun around and shouted out, "We're Aurors, get inside!"
The witch holding a dozen children in the air with a single wand – a pretty impressive feat, actually – seemed to believe Draco, because she shouted out something to the other witch who turned her wand away from the two Aurors and directed it towards the empty field that Ron and Draco had walked past.
Draco knew instantly what Ron had sensed – somehow, one of the many wards around the house had been altered somehow to react to something about Draco and Ron – there was some common trait between them that the ward had detected, and he didn't know what it was, but his Auror training and sensitivity to changes in magical wards had felt it only a split second before Ron had felt the same thing, making Draco's shout of warning unnecessary.
Trigger Ward, set to respond to a specified presence.
Scanning the sky and grounds, Ron muttered to Draco.
"Who do you think it summoned?"
"Three guesses who. Harry was quite specific about what wards he put in place, and he sure didn't put a Trigger Ward keyed to us here."
A commotion behind them made Draco turn.
"Oh, just lovely, the house has closed itself so the children can't get inside."
Ron sighed.
"I think we better get these kids out of here, now."
Draco's response was typically sarcastic.
"Oh, of course, Einstein. I'm sure that whoever set the Trigger Ward and keyed it to a Repelling Spell on the house's doors undoubtedly forgot to throw an Anti-Appariton and Anti-Portkey spell into the mix."
"Call for help?"
"Ok, I-"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" "REDUCTO!""MADALTO!"
"LAHALITO!"
"MAPORFIC MAXIMUS!"
Draco felt the wind get knocked out of him, as a spinning kick by Ron right into his belly sent him flying to the ground, even as the bright, sickly green light of the Avada Kedavra curse went streaking through the space Draco's chest had been a split second before Ron's kick sent him to the ground. Draco didn't know who had sent the curse, but there was no mistaking Ron's booming voice calling out Maporfic Maximus as Draco scrambled to his feet.
Draco was immediately aware of three things.
First, eight Death Eaters were firing multiple curses at the orphanage.
Second, all of the curses were breaking apart on an invisible ward-line around the property, and the angry voices of the Death Eaters did not quite cover the sounds of screaming and crying children huddling together in front of the house.
And third, Ron was kneeling on one knee, with one hand dug into the soil and one thrust upwards into the air. He also looked like he was under a great strain.
He looked at Ron.
"Why aren't we dead, and what the hell is Maporfic Maximus?"
Ron's reply was half-spoken, half-grunted.
"Neat…little..trick I learned…from Hermione."
"Of course, what the hell does it do?"
"The…bastards must have compromised the wards…sometime back. The wards…contain a bit…of Harry's…magical…essence. With…enough…time, they were able to neutralize it…so they would look like they were…still functional…but…they could bring them down…whenever they…wanted."
"So what have you done?"
"I've replaced….Harry's essence…with my own…and anchored it…to the earth. The wards…are functional…but they are drawing power…through and from me. I think…a few curses…got through before I could…get the wards back up…I really feel…pretty shitty…Draco."
"How long can you keep it up? I note my dear Aunt Bella is out there, screaming her usually nonsensical bullshit at us."
"For…maybe…a half hour. Heh. Tell your Aunt that she reminds me…of Sirius's mom."
"I do hope you are referring to Sirius Black."
"Yeah…"
"Any suggestions on what to do?"
"No…bloody…idea…check on…the kids."
"Right."
Draco ran back the twenty meters or so to the house, to find chaos and two very angry and very scared witches.
"Stupid Aurors! Why did you lead them here?"
"What are you going to do about the children?"
Several children were obviously injured. The most severely injured child was staring at Draco, who bent down next to him. He had obviously been hit by at least one curse, and had also been struck with shrapnel created when the Avada Kedavra curse had struck the house after missing Draco.
At a loss, Draco decided to treat some of the children as best he could, and hope that some idea would come to him as to how to get out of this mess.
No problem, right? Ron says he can hold out for a good half hour. I'm sure I can think of something in that time.
"You look banged up a little bit young man, let's see what I can do for you."
The brown haired boy – no more than ten – looked at Draco with seriousness, as Draco used his wand to sterilize a shirt so he could use it as a bandage to stem the boy's bleeding arm.
"You're Draco Malfoy!"
Draco was a bit surprised at being recognized.
"Why yes, I am, and I need you to be brave so that I can try to fix your arm."
"You're my favorite Auror."
Despite the situation, Draco laughed.
"Really, now, and do you know a lot about Aurors?"
"Sure! I had to trade two Potters, a Shacklebolt and a Williamson for you!"
Draco was baffled by this statement until the boy reached into his pants pocket with his good hand and pulled out a small toy, which Draco recognized as an Awesome Aurors™ Action Figure. The boy put the small figure on the ground, where the miniature Draco started walking in a circle, occasionally dodging imaginary threats and pointing his little wand at the sky.
Draco vaguely remembered Harry coming to him, years ago, asking him to sign a paper giving him the right to produce the toy.
The money's going to a charity that is very important to me, Draco. Orphaned kids. I have half the Auror staff on board, won't you sign?
Draco looked at the boy, who even though he was obviously in great pain was looking at Draco with something approaching worshipfulness.
"You're going to get those bad guys and save us, aren't you, Mr. Malfoy? I know you can! I read about how you got four Death Eaters at the Third Battle of Diagon Alley! And that's Mr. Weasley over there! He's almost as good as you are!"
I took down four Death Eaters that day, sure, but the street was already cleared of civilians – I didn't have to worry about defending a dozen children at the same time!
Wisely, Draco didn't voice this thought. He was more concerned with the fact that if he was reading the diagnostic spells properly, the kid was dying.
"Yes, Ron and I are going to get you out of here. We just need a plan. What's your name?"
"Fred. My name's…Fred."
Fred's voice was getting weaker. Draco wasn't sure what curse had hit him, and the boy's injuries were way beyond Draco's basic field medic abilities.
Draco called out to Ron.
"Ron! How you doing?"
"Just…bloody…peachy…any ideas yet?"
"I'm forming one."
Draco thought that the two teachers seemed to have some idea what they were about, judging by the way they had moved quickly to attack Ron while trying to shelter the kids.
Eight Death Eaters…they can't get us through the shield, but we can't attack through the shield, either. If Ron drops the shield, if we could get each teacher to take on one Death Eater, and Ron and I take three apiece…it just might work…
Although sound had a bit of trouble passing the active shield ward, which was still flashing many colors as the Death Eaters continued to rain curses on it, Draco lowered his voice.
"Ron, if you drop the shield, will you be able to roll and attack instantly?"
"No can..do, mate…this damned thing is tied to my…life force…when I drop it, I'll be lucky if I can stay..conscious….it'll be at least a minute..or two…before I'll be able…to…stand."
So much for that bright idea. Me, against six Death Eaters? And having to make sure they all focus on me, and not attack the children or Ron? That's not happening.
I better see how Fred is doing.
"How are you holding up, Fred?"
"It…hurts. Can I go inside?"
"I wish we could."
Draco turned to one of the teachers.
"Any luck getting past that Repelling charm? If we can just get in that house…"
Both of the adults knew that the house had multi-layered defenses, and the means to communicate with the outside world to summon help.
"No, none at all…I'm sorry for what I said earlier, you didn't lead them here, did you? They must have been here before for them to alter the wards like that."
"Right in one. Harry sent us here to reinforce the wards because he was afraid of something like this."
The teacher dropped her voice.
"Fred's dying, isn't he?"
Draco looked helplessly at the young boy.
"I'm afraid so. I don't even know what curse hit him."
The other teacher, who had been tending to a less-injured child, suddenly shouted, "LOOK!" and pointed towards the sky.
Draco looked up and saw a heavyset figure with bright blue hair streaking on a broom through the sky towards the house, coming up behind the Death Eaters.
I don't know why she's carrying that extra weight, but there's no mistaking that blue hair anywhere. Tonks. We're saved.
Draco smiled as the figure withdrew her wand, and pointed it towards the house – and then, much to Draco's astonishment, instead of attacking the Death Eaters, a burst of light struck the ward, and the figure swooped right through the shield ward where the light had struck. The broom skipped along the ground and the woman fell off the broom and rolled, screaming out in pain as she slid along the ground.
The Death Eaters immediately focused their attack where the woman had breached the ward, but instead of absorbing their curses or letting them through, the ward in that area reflected the curses right back at them, disabling one of the Death Eaters.
Draco was furious. He rounded on the woman with blue hair, who had slowly lifted herself off the ground.
"God DAMNIT, Tonks, you could have taken them ALL from behind, what the HELL were you thinking, and how the HELL did you get through the ward? And why are you carrying three times your normal weight in a combat zone?"
The woman, now standing, got right into Draco's face, shouting right back at him with a clear American accent.
"I don't have a single clue who this "Tonks" person you're referring to is, as for what the HELL I was thinking there are injured children here, I have NO idea how to "take out a Death Eater from behind", I'm a Healer, not an Auror, and I'll have you know you insensitive prick that this IS my normal weight and if you know how I can get it off I'll be more than happy to listen but I doubt it because it seems that you don't have the brains that God gave a Jarvey and it's none of your DAMNED BUSINESS how I got through that ward!"
As Draco was attempting to wrap his mind around the woman's incredibly disjointed but furious monologue, one of the teachers called out, "Oh, Sharon, thank God you're here, Fred is very badly injured!"
Draco watched in astonishment as the woman turned away as if he didn't exist and started to wave her wand over Fred. He was torn between fury at this arrogant woman and gratefulness that Fred was at least receiving some sort of medical care.
He knelt down next to Fred, who was glaring at Sharon.
"Don't you be mean to Mr. Malfoy, he's going to save us!"
Sharon looked up at Draco, and said, "Draco Malfoy, the Auror?"
He nodded mutely.
"Well, is it always your policy to battle Death Eaters where there are innocent Aurors around?"
Draco smiled at that.
"It's been a while since I've been called innocent. Are you sure you don't mean innocent children?"
The witch actually blushed, and said, "Yes, innocent children, thank you, well, you still haven't answered the question."
Thankfully, one of the teachers saved Draco the need to reply.
"It's not his fault, Sharon, this is a planned attack. If they weren't here, we'd be dead. Mr. Weasley over there is keeping the ward up."
Sharon looked at Ron, who was still in an odd position with one hand dug into the soil and the other thrust out towards the air. She squinted, frowned and then said, "He's tied that ward to his life force – that's very dangerous for him."
Draco's droll response was to the point - "Not as dangerous as having those eight Death Eaters out there swarming over here to kill us."
Sharon sighed in resignation. "I suppose so. I'm sorry for accusing you of starting this mess. I'm a bit rattled. I'm terrified of flying and I've just flown into a Death Eater ambush to boot. Any ideas how to get out of here?"
Draco looked around him…the injured and uninjured children, all obviously frightened, the three witches, also obviously scared but trying to hide it from the children, his partner, who was clearly barely holding on…funny…the way that Healer flew, you'd never think she was scared of flying.
He looked at Sharon, who was shaking slightly even as she worked on Fred.
She didn't want to come here – but she knew children were in trouble. She had no choice. And, neither do I.
"Yes. This ends now."
He walked towards Ron, and said to him, "Ron, I think it's time to go Article 13 on these bastards."
Article 13 – Rules Of Engagement for Aurors In Totally Hopeless Situations
Ron grunted affirmation. "You want to Avada them?"
"No, I have something far worse in mind."
"Count me...in."
"Just keep that shield up and I'll do the rest"
Draco turned towards the taunting Death Eaters and slowly let his mouth form a thin, evil smile.
Bellatrix Lestrange stepped right up to the ward and shouted at Draco.
"YOU BLOOD TRAITOR! The Dark Lord has special plans for you, young Malfoy! You better hope you die today, for I am going to do my best to take you alive for my Master!"
Draco looked at his mad aunt, and in a clear, firm voice said, "Bellatrix Black, je, l'héritier de Malfoy, vous marquent en tant que mon ennemi."
He then repeated in English, "Bellatix Black, I, the Malfoy Heir, do mark you as my enemy."
Bellatrix started to sneer, and suddenly turned pale.
She turned towards the Death Eaters.
"All of you, quickly, break through! YOU MUST BREAK THROUGH!"
The Death Eaters redoubled their attacks, even as Draco looked at the Death Eaters and shouted, "Je vous marque tout en tant que mes ennemis!"
Draco's eyes were alight as he again shouted in English, "I MARK YOU ALL AS MY ENEMIES!"
He then spun around, and blasted a nearby tree to splinters with his wand.
Ron called out, "What did you…do that for…that tree…never hurt anyone…"
Draco said flatly, "We're going to need wood when this is all over."
He looked at the children, and took a drink cup from one of them with a muttered apology. He then cut himself and drained a bit of blood into the cup.
A teacher looked at him, and asked what he was doing.
His voice was cold.
"Tell all the children to look towards the house, and no matter what they hear, they are not to turn around – at all."
He knelt down to Fred, who was looking noticeably better after Sharon's efforts. Sharon was looking at Draco with suspicion.
"Fred…I need your help."
"You need MY help?"
"Sure do. I need some help to get the bad guys. I need to call a monster, and I need a bit of your blood to do it. Is that ok with you?"
Fred looked at Malfoy with wide eyes.
"I trust you. Take what you need."
Without a word, Draco squeezed Fred's discarded bandages until a small stream of blood ran into the cup.
He produced a small vial from his robes, dumped its contents into the cup, and stirred it, before turning to Sharon.
"I need you to take your bra off."
Sharon looked at him in astonishment, and gave a loud, barking, nervous laugh before replying just quiet enough so that the children couldn't hear, "Uh, well, you know, I've heard about this casual sex thing and always wanted to try it, but don't you think the timing's a bit off for this?"
Despite himself, Draco smiled, and said, "I need a way to catapult this potion outside the wards. Your bra should do nicely"
Sharon shrugged, and pulled her arms out of her sleeves and made several odd motions under her large blouse before producing her bra triumphantly.
Draco took it with a muttered "thanks" and poured the potion into one of the cups, and spun in a circle before hurling the bra outside the wards, where a bit of the contents ran into the ground.
He then chanted out an incanation that made Ron's blood run cold.
"Blood of the innocent, freely given, joins with the blood of the Heir, invoking the ancient covenants. Sataki, I, Draco, son of Lucius, descendant of Pierre de la Mal Foi, summon you forth to smite my enemies and take them to yourself."
There was a flash of light, and a foul stench wafted through the air.
Ron was dimly aware that Bellatrix, seeming to know what was coming, had Apparated away, leaving the seven remaining Death Eaters confused and leaderless.
It didn't really matter.
Something not quite visible, some sort of phantom, had materialized outside the wards.
An otherworldly laughter rolled over the grounds, and the Death Eaters looked at each other in confusion and fright.
There was the sound of spells being cast – to no avail - and then screaming. Adult wizards, Death Eaters, screaming in stark terror.
The screaming intensified, and then dropped off, as it mingled with the sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones.
Ron watched in horror as he saw something, something he couldn't quite describe or define, constantly swoop out of the sky and literally tear into the Death Eaters. Parts of their bodies were literally shredded – arms torn off, legs gnawed on – even as they collapsed in death.
What has Malfoy done?
Finally, all the Death Eaters save one had fallen. The remaining Death Eater was backed up against a tree, his wand held out in front of him, shaking wildly. Ron saw that a dark wet spot had formed in the Death Eater's crotch.
Malfoy's voice rang out again.
"Sataki, begone!"
With an agonized screech, a cry of some otherworldly desperation, there was a sense of something leaving this world, very much against its will.
"Ron…drop the shield."
Ron didn't question Draco, but simply collapsed on the ground. The earth started to spin around him as he vomited, and he struggled to remain conscious. He forced himself to watch Draco, who strode purposefully towards the lone remaining Death Eater wand held at his side.
He's walking like some sort of ruler of old, his wand isn't even at the ready because he knows no one will dare challenge him.
Ron had never seen anyone – save Dumbledore – walk with such easy, confident superiority.
Draco stopped about a meter away from the terrified Death Eater.
"Imperio Minmalis."
Ron watched in fascination, curious to see what Draco was going to do to the lone Death Eater.
He slammed the Death Eater against the tree.
"I've left you alive for one reason. I need you to deliver a message for me."
The Death Eater stammered, "A…a..message?"
"You will tell all your fellow Death Eaters what happened here. Tell them what I have done. Tell them what you saw. You will make sure when you address Tom Riddle-"
"Tom-Tom Riddle?"
Draco screamed, an inch from the Death Eater's face, as the Death Eater flinched.
"VOLDEMORT! TOM RIDDLE IS VOLDEMORT! You will tell him that I am coming for him. You will tell him this will end one of two ways – either he will deliver himself to Harry and die quickly, and painlessly, or Harry and I will come for him, and I will torture him before turning his barely alive Mudblood carcass over to Harry for disposal! YOU WILL TELL HIM THAT, IN THOSE EXACT WORDS, AND YOU WILL DO IT IN FRONT OF AS MANY WITNESSES AS POSSIBLE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
"Yes…yes…"
"Now, go. Run back to your fellow Death Eaters."
Without a word, the Death Eater disappeared with a POP!
Ron found his voice.
"What was that for? You know Voldemort will never surrender."
Draco shrugged, as he walked to the remains of the tree he destroyed.
"I don't care. I'm just thinking what it's going to do when that Death Eater tells off Voldemort in his own court. With any luck, it will severely impact Death Eater morale and maybe even inspire a few directions."
"Voldemort's going to know that the Death Eater you let go is speaking under compulsion, and he's going to kill him anyway, you know."
Draco reply was short and to the point.
"I don't really care.
"Well, at least this battle is over."
Draco started picking out the six biggest, longest pieces of wood from the shattered tree.
"Almost."
Ron climbed to his feet, wand at his side.
"Almost?"
Draco muttered, "yeah", even as one of the Death Eater corpses slowly rose upright.
Draco charged towards the animated corpse, driving a chunk of wood through the heart.
Ron paled.
"Damn, Draco."
Draco smiled, and tossed Ron three pieces of wood.
"C'mon, Ron, stake the remaining corpses. Standard anti-Vampire protocol, they're Undead, but not real vampires yet, and they're really weak. Then we'll have a little bonfire. No problem, we'll be done in ten minutes."
Ron looked towards the house, which looked peaceful – apparently the Repelling Charm had deactivated with the departure of the last Death Eater, and the children, their teachers, and the Healer had all rushed inside.
Ron looked around at the slightly quivering remains of the Death Eaters and called out to Draco.
"Remind me of this mess next time you ask me to run some simple errands with you, you bastard."
Draco laughed, even as he drove a stake through the heart of yet another Death Eater corpse.