Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Harry Potter, the character, settings or plots that have been born from the magnificent mind of J.K. Rowling. For those too incompetent to understand words longer than two syllables: I do not own Harry Potter.
This is Parseltongue
Beta: angelhitomie
It wasn't going according to plan.
Panic washed over him with the all-consuming strength of a tsunami when Harry found himself standing in front of the Veil.
Over the strange whispering from the portal looking device Harry was aware of the sound of people fighting behind him.
His feet refused point blank to follow any command his brain was supplying it with to get him away from there. It was as if they had been nailed to the spot.
Frustrated Harry clenched his fists. He was supposed to find Draco, not stand here, waiting for the push that would lead him to fall into the silver coloured substance. As fascinating as it was to look at, he had experienced the fall enough times for him to grow bored with it.
Then he realised that something was different from all the other times he had viewed this scene. Normally, he would not be able to make as much as a muscle twist before he was pushed, and yet he could feel nails dig into his palms.
Did this mean that something in the vision had changed? Had something happened which meant that he would not actually be at the Ministry of Magic? Perhaps he was only here to observe.
But as he tried to step backwards, something strange occurred. Harry separated from himself.
For a moment Harry could only stand there, staring wide-eyed at the back of his frozen other self. This was weird beyond words, even for him. Why was it that there had to be two of him all the time? Was there some deity out there who had nothing better to do than to mess up his life? At least the last vision had made more sense which had been with Draco Polyjuiced as him, rather than this. Harry doubted very much that the same was happening now. After all, even then they had been separate persons.
It could be because of the added ingredient. He had expected a change in his visions, but this was not exactly it. He should be able to control them, to see visions about whom he wanted, and not merely add a strange tweak to his visions.
But maybe the consequence of losing his virginity had finally decided to show itself?
And there was something different about the other him, which further convinced Harry that Polyjuice was not being used. The other's hair was short and only a little longer than his father's had been by the time of his death, but it was nowhere near his hair's current length. Puzzled, Harry stared at himself, circling the person and wondering what this could mean.
The person he'd split from was definitely him. Other than the different hairstyle, there was no difference between them. They could have been twins for all he knew.
How curious, was he supposed to be the good or the evil twin? He supposed that it depended on who was asked.
That, however, wasn't what he should be thinking about right now. He had to find a vision that could tell him something about where Draco might be. So, as much as he would like to stick around to find out who would cause him to fall through the Veil, and maybe also why his hair had gotten so short, he couldn't.
Turning away from his still self and the Veil, Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to concentrate.
According to Slughorn's theory he should be able to control this, to be able to decide whom or where he viewed. Being separated this way gave him some control, but it wasn't what he was looking for.
This wasn't the way to go if he wanted to find Draco.
Perhaps, he merely needed to approach this from another angle. Severus would have been able to tell him how he was supposed to do this. The man was a genius when it came to the mind, it was necessary, being a master in the mind arts.
Alas, Harry was well aware that it was not a possibility. Severus wasn't there, and Harry would rather not have to go through this again. Though, if he didn't have any luck, he would keep trying until he got this right.
He would have to work with what he had.
He wanted to see something, something which would reveal where his friend was being held by Dumbledore and his Order members. He wanted to see his friend, someone he greatly cared about.
Without even opening his eyes Harry felt how his surroundings changed. This method was actually working. He couldn't believe that luck for once was in his favour.
"James!" Horror filled green eyes snapped open at the desperate yell. No, this wasn't true.
But James and Lily Potter were indeed in the same room as him, in a scenery which Harry had witnessed so many times that he would be able to recall the whole happenings without even closing his eyes.
"Run, Lily. I will hold him back." Hearing his father speak, Harry yelled in frustration, he grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled hard at it. How difficult could this be? He didn't care about those two people, so why was he even seeing them? They had died, end of story. This was something he wouldn't bother to change, even if given the chance to do so.
And yet Harry couldn't help but sneak a glance around when he noticed that he was standing somewhere else than he normally would when seeing this.
He easily looked past the two well-known people and to the other side of the room.
There he was, once again standing frozen in place, not even wincing when the door passed through him and a new person entered.
But with the dark cloaked person, who seemed to be a part of the vision, something else was there as well. Something which was touching his shoulder and turning his other self around. He couldn't see it properly, but from where he stood, it looked rather much like an actual person.
Before he could get a proper look at the person, Harry was whisked away.
His hands were still in his hair when the sound of crying reached his ears, and white wall were all around him.
Unclenching his hands and letting his arms fall to his side, Harry turned around to face the source of the noise.
Blood drained from his face at the sight which met him.
He was in the Hospital Wing, standing in the doorway and watched people dressed in healer robes bustle around in the hall. He ignored those as they were doing nothing of interest. Instead he found his attention drawn to the bed below a window, which provided him with the sight of Narcissa Malfoy sitting on a small wooden chair next to the bed.
Moving closer Harry observed her closely.
The witch's hair was mostly undone, and tears had ruined her make-up. Her eyes were red rimmed and stared constantly at the unmoving figure on the bed.
Unable to contain his curiosity Harry moved closed until he was standing right next to the lady. He had a feeling that he would not like what he was about to see, and yet he could not get himself to step away.
Draco's face was the only part of him not covered by a white blanket, but this was more than enough to make Harry's stomach roll.
Placing a hand over his mouth in hope that it would prevent himself from vomiting, he had done so before in a vision, and it was absolutely not pleasant to wake up to that mess, Harry felt his eyes grow moist.
The usually pale skin was marred with bruises in all shades, and wounds in different states of healing. It almost looked like someone had taken a knife and decided to see how much of the blond's skin they would be able to peel off with it. Was it the result of a spell, or had the one responsible for this decided to do it by hand?
Harry wasn't quite sure if he really wanted to know.
Harry's gaze stopped at Draco's nose, which was crocked and bloody, as if someone had smashed it with a blunt object to make sure that it was broken.
Was the rest of Draco's body like this? Because of the duvet pulled up to the blond's chin, Harry didn't have a way of knowing.
No matter what, it was bound to be painful once Draco became conscious enough to sense everything.
Though, Harry supposed that it wouldn't happen seeing as Draco's chest was not moving, indicating that his friend was not breathing.
For a moment, Harry felt like he was back to being petrified. He was merely staring at the still form on the bed, barely aware of the sound of crying coming from the distraught mother.
Why was Draco dead? This wasn't meant to happen. Had his friend been beaten to dead, or was it a part of his torture before he had finally been killed with the Killing Curse?
Gulping down big mouthfuls of air, Harry tried to calm himself. What he saw was only a possible future, it wasn't set in stone and this wasn't the first he had seen Draco die.
But the last time he had seen this kind of situation, he had been provided with plenty of clues of how he could stop it. This dead body told him nothing of what he wanted to know, and the flashes of Theo's impaled neck and half-crushed body speeding past his eyes were not helping either.
Harry stumbled backwards, wrenching his eyes away from the sight in front of him. "What do you want me to do? How do you want me to stop this, if I don't know how it happened?!" He was not even sure of who he was yelling to, and neither did he receive any kind of answer.
Then again, who was supposed to hear him? As far as he was aware, he couldn't partake in his visions in a way that would change them. Not even the potion could allow him to do that.
He had found Draco, though it had not been the kind of vision he had wanted. If he tried again, he might have better luck this time around. He would be able to see something which would lead him to where Draco was being held captive, and then this possible future would be naught.
He would make sure of that, even if it was the last thing he did in his life.
)00(
The sound of crying followed him out of the vision, and it took Harry a few moments to realise that it came from him and was not just the memory of Draco's mother.
He didn't have time to find out whether this was a part of another vision or not, before his stomach decided that it had had enough.
He just made it to the edge of the bed before starting to vomit. Since his stomach contained no food, it was stomach acid which hit the floor, leaving him with a burning throat.
Harry heaved, but nothing more came up, much to his relief. Slowly he pulled himself back onto the bed, whipping his mouth clean. The taste lingered, but Harry knew that he could do nothing about it until he got something to drink.
It would have to wait, because right now, he needed to gather himself and figure out where the hell he was and what had happened.
He wasn't in Myrtle's bathroom any longer, considering that the last thing he remembered seeing was Voldemort; it was in fact not so surprisingly. Despite how angry the Dark Lord had looked, the man would not have left him on a dirty floor.
He was back in the room he had been granted by Voldemort, the one connected to the other's bedroom.
"Stupid hatchling, master warned us that you wouldn't be feeling good. Why would you do something so stupid and hurt yourself?" A forked tongue flickered against the tip of his ear, as Nagini travelled over his body to get on the other side of him. Harry was glad that she didn't try to wrap herself around him. He wasn't sure if his stomach had calmed down just yet, and he wasn't a life sized teddy for the reptile to enjoy.
The last time Harry had seen either of the snakes had been a few hours before he had left for Hogsmeade. Having managed to convince them to stay with Voldemort had seemed like a necessity at that time. If anyone, the snake duo would have been able to figure out that they hadn't been following the real him, as Draco was no Parselmouth, and the Polyjuice Potion did not give you the abilities of the one you looked like.
Now Harry was wondering if it would have been better if they had just let them in on the plan.
"Go away." He wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone. And he knew Nagini well enough to know that she would rattle him out if she got any wind of what he planned on doing.
"Little speaker, calm down." Diablo's voice sounded from his right, the opposite side of where Nagini was resting next to his body. But Harry didn't pay the snakes any heed. He attempted to push himself up.
It didn't go as well as Harry had hoped that it would. The snakes, sensing what he was about to do, moved so both of their bodies were on top of his.
Despite the weight pinning him down, Harry didn't halt his struggles. He needed to make another batch of the potion. With that he would be able to see something that would ensure that the last vision would never become a reality.
He would make sure of that.
Someone stepped into his range of vision, causing Harry to jerk his head up in an uncomfortable angle to look at them, stopping his struggles momentary as he did so.
Voldemort waved his wand nonchalantly over the puddle of vomit, vanishing the mess together with the smell which helped Harry's stomach to calm a bit. "You have some explanation to do." The lack of the usual nickname told Harry more than anything that he was in deep water. Despite a voice in the back of his head advising him to step down for now, Harry didn't lower his eyes or show some other sign of submission.
He wasn't suicidal, but neither was he weak. No matter what his current position was suggesting.
Red eyes narrowed, a hand carting through his lose hair, the fingers entangling themselves in the strands and twisted harshly, forcing hisses of pain over his lips in protest of the harsh treatment. "What were you thinking?" Voldemort carried on as if he was speaking to himself rather than holding a conversation with Harry. "Let me guess, you decided that this was the optimal time to show those Gryffindor genes you inherited from your parents and decided to act like an incompetent, thick headed fool. The Hospital Wing and a great part of St. Mungo's are already filled with patients, and more are incoming. Yet you seem to find it a brilliant idea to brew and drink a dangerous potion, forcing me to assign people, who could spend their time on much more important matters, to figure out what you had drunk. Each of them could instead have focussed on the victims of the recent attacks." At no point of his rant did Voldemort raise his voice at him, which only made Harry feel worse than the words already did. It didn't help that Harry very well knew that Voldemort was right.
But the anger void from Voldemort's voice was only too evident in his eyes.
By the time he stopped speaking, Voldemort face was so close that Harry could have headbutted him if not for the hand in his hair.
So, the Order of the Phoenix had decided that they were done with sitting idly by. What had brought this change? It couldn't merely be because of Draco's capture. Other of Voldemort's followers had been taken before, without it making any difference for the rebels.
Harry mused that it could be to draw him out. Did they think that he would come running to them to stop them from attacking strangers?
Draco, on the other hand, was a whole other matter.
Harry put his hands under him, trying to get up, and dislocate Voldemort's hand from his hair in the same move. "It wasn't like I didn't know what I was doing." He ground out, already knowing that he didn't have much of a chance to make Voldemort see his way. Still, for Draco's sake, he would try. "It was supposed to make me find where Draco is."
The words had barely left his mouth before Nagini and Diablo were shoved off the bed by a burst of Voldemort's anger. Harry's eyes widened in realisation of how serious this was. He could feel the magic lick over his skin like angry tongues, which fuelled him with new energy in his struggles to get free.
In a desperate move he kicked his lower body up from the bed, hoping to catch Voldemort with one of his feet despite the impossible angle he was working with.
Voldemort moved his head to the side, effectively avoiding both of his feet.
Before Harry could lash into another attack, he found himself turned around so he had his head on the middle of the bed, with Voldemort on top of him, straddling his hip and keeping his arms captured between Harry's sides and the man's knees. Somehow, though Harry had yet to figure out how it was possible, the hand had yet to leave his hair, and now it was pressing his face against the mattress, constricting Harry's breathing until black spots were dancing in front of his eyes.
Realising that the seer's breathing was becoming desperate, Voldemort loosened his grip enough to allow Harry to lift his head and breathe in deeply, but it was not enough to give him the hope of getting away. "Let go."
Deciding that violence would get him nowhere, Harry forced his body to go lax. Perhaps it would go better if he went back to try and explain to Voldemort what he had planned. "I knew what I was doing. I nearly had the method down when the potion stopped working. All I need is one more try, well, maybe two more, but then I'll be able to tell where Draco is. I won't let him die!" His face was pressed down against the mattress, cutting off Harry's air supply, and forcing his body into a new bout of struggling as he tried to free his face so he could breathe.
He felt Voldemort lean forward, and the man's warm breath was huffing against his ear. It seemed like he wasn't the only one affected by this. "The Malfoy heir's state of health is, as of yet, unknown, and until something is known for sure, the search parties will be looking for him, alive."
Black spots had formed anew when the hand lifted his head from the mattress and Harry wasted no time sucking in several deep breaths. "Bastard, stop this or I'll make you regret it." It would have sounded more threatening if he hadn't been painting for air, but Harry meant every word of what he said.
Voldemort would come to regret this, though it was far from as high on his priority list as other matters were right now.
When no reaction came, Harry continued, knowing that now was the time to reveal the vision he had seen. "He was dead. Do you understand or do I have to spell it out for you? D.E.A.D., that means dead! Beaten up and dead and I won't allow that to happen. Just let me have one more chance. I need another batch of the potion. I'm sure I can find Draco, but I need it to do so!"
Harry fell silent, waiting to see what Voldemort would do. He was no fool, and knew that lots of things depended on Voldemort's move.
But, one way or another, it would lead to Draco being freed.
He startled when Voldemort shifted and leaned over him and a warm breath washed over his ear. "Do not take me for a fool, my little seer." The voice did not raise over a whisper, and yet Harry heard every word perfectly fine due to the physical closeness between them. "It might have a different way of working, but I am well aware that you drank the same potion which the rebels fed you. Do not for a moment believe that I will allow you to do something so incredible stupid to yourself again. I studied you during your stay in the Hospital Wing, and Severus provided me with the details from when you first ended in his care."
A surge of betrayal licked his inside upon hearing this. The memories of how scared and weak he had been back then made him scowl at the faraway wall. That had been something he hadn't wanted Voldemort to know about. In fact, it was something he had hoped that Severus would have Oblivated from his mind before he would ever think of sharing those memories with someone else.
"I find it doubtful that Dumbledore would share the recipe with anyone if it would not be absolutely necessary. So, pray tell me, how did you know how to brew it?" Voldemort asked, his tone nonchalant as if he was merely discussing the weather.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry felt a smirk form on his face all on its own. "The old man realised that it was necessary when I refused to cooperate." He admitted, keeping his gaze at the same spot on the wall he had been staring at for the past five minutes. Of course they had tried other methods at first. Withholding food, water and human contact, nothing the Dursleys hadn't already done to him.
They had not dared to take a step further, probably because he had only been a kid at that time, and the rebels did claim that they had some kind of moral. "In the end I was allowed to visit Slughorn, and observe his work. The man was rather talkative when one first got him started. One of his theories was about how I should be able to control who I saw in my visions. Given how stubborn I had proved to be, Dumbledore decided that it would be worth the effort to test the theory."
The hand in his hair twisted when he ended the story, and Harry was sure that he felt more than a few strands of hair leave his scalp. If Voldemort kept this up, Harry would have big, bald spots once this was over. "So, you decided that it would be an excellent idea to mix several ingredients together in an unclean environment, on the off chance that you might find your small friend?"
Harry kept himself perfectly still, feeling that what had happened next depended on his answer. But, as Voldemort had been so kind to point out for him, Harry had Gryffindor genes running in his blood. "Of course, he annoys me, but Draco is my friend. If it means that he will be safe, I would gladly give up my own life for him."
The hand let go and left his hair, much to Harry's relief.
The weight on top of him left together with the hand, though it took Harry's mind a few moments to register that fact. Twisting around, he found himself alone on the bed, and with Voldemort already by the door, though the man was looking at him over his shoulder. "Your recent actions have proved that you cannot be trusted, especially not with your own health. Until this matter has been solved, you will remain here, and you will not be allowed near potions or potions ingredients in the near future. Understand that this is for your own good."
With that, Voldemort left and Harry stared, gaping at the closed door.
"Th-that bastard!" He grabbed the nearest object and flung it through the air. The pillow hit the door before falling uselessly to the floor, not doing anything to lessen the pent up frustration raging through him. "Bastard, you can't do this!"
Getting off the bed and onto two unsteady legs, Harry leaned against one of the bedposts, until he was sure that he would not fall over when he attempted his first step. Judging from the tingling sensation in the two limbs he had been out for a while, though he doubted that it had lasted as long as when Moody had forced the potion down his throat.
It was a small, but comforting thought.
Rather wobbling Harry got to the door, banging his fists against the surface. "You can't do this, it's against our deal! You hear me Voldemort? Let me out right now or I swear by the Founders that you won't get another vision from me, understood?! Let me out right now, so I can find Draco!" Harry kicked the door, howling in pain as he jumped around on one foot, clutching the other limb between his hands.
Balancing on one foot Harry used every single curse word he had picked up from Severus through the years. If the man had been around to hear him, Harry would have found the vile taste of soap in his mouth. But Severus was not there, and it was just as well, because Harry knew that the Potions master would have sided with Voldemort on this matter.
As the pain lessened Harry dropped his foot. It seemed like Voldemort was perfectly fine with ignoring him for now since his small bout of self harm had not summoned the man.
He sat down, forgoing the furniture in favour of the floor. With a sigh Harry grabbed his shins and rested his forehead on his knees. He was determined that Voldemort would get no more visions from him. By locking him in like this, Voldemort had broken their agreement.
He wasn't safe at Hogwarts any longer, especially not when Voldemort figured this out.
It hurt to admit, but Harry would not deny himself the truth. If Harry didn't hand over the visions by free will, what reason did Voldemort have not to force them out of him? The man would certainly be more ruthless than the Order of the Phoenix had been.
He didn't want that to happen, not after all what Voldemort had done and become to him.
Voldemort wouldn't be given the chance to betray him further, he wouldn't risk that.
Lifting his head and looking down at himself Harry frowned at the green pyjamas he was dressed in. It was kind of amusing how Voldemort insisted for him to dress in Slytherin colours. Almost like a child showing its ownership of a favoured toy.
The smile died off his face, perhaps it was for the best if he focussed on something else.
Instead he glanced out of the window, frowning at the sight of the setting sun. It irked him, that he didn't know how long he had been out for. Hell, he did not even have an idea for how long Draco had been missing. It could have been weeks, and he wouldn't know since people seemed to get off by keeping him out of the loop.
Harry would do his dammed best to prove their effort wasted.
Glancing at the two snakes still at the floor, Harry cracked a smile and got on his feet. "Might as well take a long, warm bath." There were spells to take care of such matter, but Harry still felt sweaty and the disgusting taste of stomach acid was still in his mouth. "Are you coming?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to see that Nagini and Diablo were hot on his heels.
Getting inside, Harry stepped aside, allowing the reptiles to get in as well. "Sorry about this, but I'm afraid that it's necessary." A pair of heads turned in his direction as Diablo and Nagini realised that they had just been tricked. Harry gave them a small wave as he stepped out of the bathroom, quickly closing and locking the door from the outside. The thumps that sounded as he did this, told Harry that the snakes hadn't stopped before they hit the door in their haste to stop him.
He let the key stay in the hole, wishing that his two friends would not suffer in the time they were locked in. No doubt that they would be out again in a few hours, and they had plenty of water, and each other as company.
It did nothing to soothe the guilt gnawing his stomach from the inside.
Wiping his hands clean of sweat on his pants, Harry looked around, contemplating what his next step of action should be. He needed to get out of here before he could do anything. He didn't bother to try with the door again. It was locked and that little thing wouldn't have changed. And even if he got the door open, Voldemort would be alerted by the enchantments the man had probably placed to prevent Harry from running of.
So, the option was out of the window.
Harry groaned in protest, even if he knew that it was the best choice.
Looking at the window, Harry's frown deepened. The sun had almost disappeared behind the line of trees.
He really didn't feel like crawling around on the outdoor walls like an Acromantula, and yet he knew that he would be doing just that because he didn't see any way around it.
"I hate when it goes like this." Despite his own words, Harry went to the window. Since Voldemort had made it clear that he would not be let out in the near future, he would have to do this. Severus wouldn't be inclined to help him either. After all, Severus had helped him through the after effects of prolonged use of the vision generating potion. If he added the stress about Draco's missing status, there was no doubt in his mind that Severus would be furious right now.
If he at least had known Draco's whereabouts, he might have been able to soothe Severus' ire. Then again, if that was the case, then he wouldn't be needing help in the first place.
Since Severus would be keeping his potions ingredients under lock after his last stunt, he couldn't brew the potion again. It would take too long to gather the ingredients on his own, time he didn't have if he wanted to make a difference.
Opening the window Harry was taken by surprise by the blast of cold wind hitting him straight on. Now he was looking closer, Harry noticed that dark clouds were gathering in the horizon and moving this way.
It would work for him. The darker it was, the harder it would be for anyone to spot him, either by accident or because they were looking for him.
Glancing around the room one last time Harry felt a brief touch of regret. His latest actions had worried enough people as it was already. And yet he was about to do something which would give people more grey hair than he had already given them.
As he had said to Voldemort, he was willing to give up his own life if it meant that Draco would be able to live.
And that was pretty much what he intended to do.
Harry climbed onto the windowsill and dropped his legs over the edge before he turned around so his whole weight was on his arms. Letting out a breath, Harry lowered himself, his feet searching for somewhere to stand on and then he was climbing.
It was a good thing that Voldemort had chosen this location for his rooms. Since there was no wall opposite the one he was climbing, it lessened the risk of being spotted. The quickly falling darkness would help him hiding and because of the increasing wind, most people would be inside for the night now.
On the other hand, if he slipped and fell, there would be no one to save him. Currently he was three story above the ground, the landing would hurt.
Harry cursed when he stretched his right leg to its limit, yet finding no crack or ledge he could place his foot on. Glancing to both sides he tried to find somewhere else he could move to. Finding none, he gnawed on his lower lip, trying to figure out which of his two options he should choose.
First, he could climb up again until he found somewhere he could move to one of the sides. Then he could climb down again and hope that he would not find another blind spot.
Or, he could jump.
It seemed rather far to the ground, but surely it was just a part of his imagination. If he was at the ground, he would know that he was not that far up. And it would get him faster down than option number one.
Not giving himself more time to mull over it, Harry let go. Gravity set in right away, pulling Harry downwards. Harry kicked out, creating distance between himself and the wall, and twisting around so he was in a position he hoped would lessen the impact with the ground.
He landed harder than he had counted on, wincing at the impact. A quick check proved that nothing was broken, but he would be sore come tomorrow.
Getting on his feet, Harry couldn't resist looking up at where he had jumped from. Even from the ground he had been pretty high up, good thing that he had jumped before he had realised that.
The sound of gravel crushing under feet alerted Harry that he was not alone. Desperate he looked around, trying to find a hiding place. He couldn't afford to be seen. In his current attire he would gather too much attention and he very much doubted that they would believe that he was merely sleepwalking.
No, it was better to hide, but where?
The footsteps neared, and now Harry could see light come from around a corner, meaning that its source was near, much nearer than he liked to think about.
He dived into a bush, biting down on his tongue to prevent any sound from leaving him as thorns dug into his skin and got tangled up in his hair. It had been at the last moment, because two people, both women by the look of it, rounded the corner as he tried to find his balance in his crouched position.
Harry froze when he realised who it was that was coming towards him, Narcissa and Bellatrix. One looking rather red-eyed, while the other sister held a comforting arm around her. Neither said anything as they came to a stop not far from where Harry was hiding.
As Bellatrix lifted her wand so the light spread over a bigger area and stepped towards him, Harry knew he was in trouble. Either they had heard him fall, though Harry doubted that, or the witch had a freaky sixth sense that told her where he was. Considering that it was Bellatrix, Harry wouldn't be surprised if the latter was actually the case.
As she came closer, Harry leaned backwards, trying to move away from her without making too much noise.
As he reached behind him, Harry fingers brushed over something furry and soft, sending it into movement and it darted past him and out of the bushes they both had been hiding in. In the short moment the creature passed through the light, Harry got a good look at it and had to bite back laughter from the relief he felt.
"Just a rabbit." The disappointment in Bellatrix's voice was clear as she lowered her wand, now only lighting up a small area around the duo.
Narcissa stepped forward, her eyes not moving from where Harry was hiding, almost as if she knew that he was there. Unsure of what else he could do, Harry placed a finger over his lips, signalling for her to not out him.
Whether Narcissa actually was able to see him or not, Harry didn't know, but the witch placed a hand on Bellatrix's arm, giving her sister a strained smile. "It is cold, let us go inside."
Bellatrix pushed her lips, looking ready to protest. But the woman nodded and led Lady Malfoy along the patch they had been following before they had come to a stop.
Harry waited until the sounds of their footsteps were gone. He couldn't believe how lucky he had been. Narcissa could easily have ratted him out, and yet she had not.
He didn't sit around and mull over it, as it was he already wasted enough time. If he kept up like this, he wouldn't even get to leave Hogwarts' ground before his absence was noticed.
So, he rose to his feet, the thorns ripping clothes and skin alike and he felt small drops of blood flood from the ruptures. He remembered that Aunt Petunia once had told Dudley that it hurt less to simply rip off the first aid than taking it slowly. He wasn't sure if it applied for this kind of situation, but it was worth a try if he didn't want to stay here the whole night and try to untangle his legs from the bush.
He half stumbled out of the bush with one move, determined not to follow anymore of that kind of advice if he should remember more. That had hurt.
With a hand on the wall Harry limped down the patch, choosing the opposite direction of which the two witches had gone.
Each step send small flames up his sides, alerting Harry that he might had damaged more with his fall than he first had believed.
Gritting his teeth Harry changed course and left the wall he had used as support. Before he left there was something he needed to get in order.
He went for the shed where students could store their brooms away when they were not being used. After all, he needed some kind of travelling device if he didn't want to take the tour on foot. And he doubted very much that his guide, or his still tender stomach for the matter, would appreciate flooing.
That was, if he could convince her to help him.
Wards were put up to prevent students from gaining entrance without permission by using magic on the heavy lock on the door. Picking up a fist sized stone and weighting it in his hand, Harry gave the lock a speculative look. It looked rather heavy and new, not yet weakened by the weather, though that could be magic's doing.
Smashing the stone against the lock several times, Harry watched with satisfaction as the lock broke and fell to the ground. It felt good to take his frustrations out on something which did not hit back.
He kicked the lock into the tall grass where it would not be in his way, before opening the heavy door and stepped inside.
Broom after broom was lined up after each other in a room which was much bigger on the inside than it had looked to be from the outside.
Harry passed the first fifty brooms or so without as much as a glance. Having been there that time Draco had decided to teach him how to fly, Harry was very much aware of how it was organised. The better and pricey brooms were kept in the back of the room, and those were the ones he needed. While the ones in front would be steady, perfect for a beginner, they lacked the speed he needed.
In the very back of the shed he found what he had been looking for, Draco's Firebolt standing among six others of the same kind. It was the fastest broom on the market and exactly what he needed for the plan he had in mind.
Dropping the stone, Harry grabbed two of the brooms, Draco's and someone else's, though he wasn't sure whom it might belong to and then he left. No alarm had sounded, but it didn't mean that someone was not on their way. He needed to hurry if he didn't want to be caught.
As soon as he was out of the door Harry jumped onto one of the brooms and set off, keeping the other broom close to his side as he flew through the air, heading off to where he hoped he would be able to find the help he needed for the next step in his plan.
Stopping at one of the holes in the walls Harry peeked inside, ready to move on if someone was in there.
But the Owlery was empty of people at this time, which was lucky for Harry as he had no idea what he was supposed to do if he ran into someone.
He only knew that he would not allow anyone to stop him.
Seeing as owls were nocturnal it didn't surprise him to find the birds awake at this hour. Knowing that the hole was too small for him to go in through with both of the brooms, Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably on the one he was on. The door was locked, and if he got it open, it would be in a way which would set off the birds, something he didn't desire.
He was still hovering outside the tower when a white form detached itself from the resting masses, flew down from its perch and landed in the hole Harry had been looking through.
Golden eyes watched him with an intensity Harry was quite sure that an owl shouldn't be able to. On the other hand, this one was supposed to be smart so maybe he wasn't that far of. "Listen." He spoke gently so not to spook the owl. "I know that you don't like me, but I really need your help. They said that you could track anyone down, no matter what kind of wards they were hidden behind." It didn't hurt to praise the snowy owl and the moment Theo's name was brought up, he had Hedwig's attention rather than the cold attitude he had been regarded with so far.
"Theo's friend, Draco, is missing. I need you to lead me to where he is."
The words had barely left his mouth before Hedwig took off, forcing Harry to lean backwards in an awkward angle to avoid getting a face full of owl.
Not wanting to be left behind, Harry turned the brooms and sped after her, the owl already having moved quite the distance in the time it had taken Harry to regain his balance so he wouldn't fall off the broom.
He flew up at the side of Hedwig, who disregarded his entire presence after a short glance in his direction, and lay down so his upper body formed after the broom's lines. They would be flying for quite a while, he suspected, and there was no reason for him not to try and get comfortable while they were on the move.
Before passing through where he knew the wards of Hogwarts should be, Harry couldn't resist taking a last glance backwards. In the darkness, Hogwarts was breathtaking.
Even with him this high up, the castle towered over him, a magnificent picture. It was black against a dark blue sky, the windows illuminated every bit of the castle, it almost looked like taken right out of a fairy tale.
It broke his heart to know that this time might be the last time he saw what had been his home for over six years.
Forcing his gaze away from the impressive sight, Harry instead focussed on the dark clouds they were heading towards.
A long flight, indeed.
)00(
One and half an hour later Harry regretted that he had not taken the time to change his clothes before taking off. While pretty, the pyjamas did nothing to protect him from the cold air this high up. He wished that the wind would numb the rest of his body instead of only his hands and feet, because the falling raindrops made his body shiver in an uncontrollable way which had Harry fearing that he would lose his grip on the brooms if he did not pay attention all the time.
And forty-five meters were quite the length to fall.
Hedwig was flying ahead of him, though not so far that he couldn't see her all the time.
The owl seemed mostly unaffected by the way the weather had turned bad on them. She followed the wind in a way it helped her moving in the direction she wanted to, instead of throwing her around like she weighted nothing.
He had found that the position Draco had taught him was not meant for long distance flights and changed his position every so often in hope of finding a more comfortable position.
He had long ago lost any sense of where they were heading. It was a little hard to keep track of where he was, when he was flying high up and only had the lights of the cities and towns they passed far below them that sometimes broke the otherwise constant darkness around them.
Harry's eyes didn't waver from Hedwig's small, white form ahead of him. Losing sight of her would mean losing sight of his mean to find Draco, which was unacceptable.
So, when Hedwig suddenly nosedived, Harry followed without a thought, having to roll with the brooms to avoid hitting some of the many branches he suddenly found himself surrounded by.
Dropping lower, and trying to keep an eye on Hedwig, who was moving unbothered forward, Harry found himself free from the branches and used a moment to look around.
It was dark, but his eyes had had time to grow accustomed to it, allowing him to see far more details than he would normally have been able to.
He was in a forest and a rather old one if he should judge from the trees he was surrounded by. Down here far less of the rain reached him, the drops stopped by the heavy treetops.
Looking around, panic rose inside his chest. In the time he had been distracted, Hedwig had continued moving, and now she was nowhere to be seen.
She couldn't have gotten far, so maybe he just needed to fly around a little and then he would be able to see her. With the kind of colours her feathers had, it would be hard for the owl to hide from being spotted.
Angling the brooms he flew up so he was just below the treetops. Up here there was less of a risk of being seen by someone unwelcome. There had to be a reason to why Hedwig had led him to this forest, and Harry doubted that it was because she wanted to hunt for a late night snack.
So he started circling, moving further and further from the spot he had descended into the forest from. His eyes darted around, trying to catch sight of Hedwig's body. What use did she have as a guide if she didn't wait for him to follow her?
He ducked under a branch, pausing to look around. There was still no sign of where Hedwig had gone. He couldn't continue like this or he would be flying around all night without finding anything of use.
If not because he didn't know how long he had before Draco died, he would have been inclined to stop for now and wait until dawn so he could better see where he was flying.
A red light came from below, causing Harry to roll sideways to avoid getting hit by it. In the move, he let go of the second broom he had brought with him.
Cursing Harry threw himself and the broom he was on towards the other one. He couldn't afford losing the second broom. It was the one Draco was supposed to ride back on. Two people on one broom would slow them down too much for them to escape once he got Draco.
A heavy forced slammed into Harry's side, sending him spinning downwards, his fingers clenching in a death grip around the broom he somehow managed to stay on.
He was nearing the ground with a dangerous speed. If this kept on, he would crash, and with the way it was going right now, he wouldn't get out of it unscratched.
Harry rolled with the force, though he could not see anything that should cause it, he certainly felt the weight pressing against his whole being, forcing him downwards and out of the safety he had in the air.
The tip of his toes brushed against the crisp grass, kicking leaves up before he managed to get the broom back on course.
The world took a few seconds to stop spinning around him, and by that time Harry was up in the air again. He was well aware that he couldn't stop here. Whoever was here was serious about their attacks, and he held no desire to see what should happen if they actually got their hands on him.
Glancing down Harry was able to make out his attackers' silhouettes in the light from the spells they were throwing at him.
There were three people below him that he could see. Spread out they each covered the biggest spaces between the trees, those spots he would have been most likely to slip out through. At this point the trees were standing too close for him to slip through other ways.
Cursing Harry glanced upwards, knowing that it would do no good. If he tried that way, it would take time to get through the many layers of branches which were entangled in each other.
He was trapped.
His short moment of inattention costed him dearly.
A red beam caught the handle of the broom, causing it to come to a shuttering stop before it dropped and Harry fell along with it.
Unlike when he had jumped, Harry had the strangest sense of foreboding when he fell through the air. He reached out for the branches, wanting to grab hold of them so they could stop, or at least slow down, his fall, unfortunately it was too late and they were already out of his reach.
Much sooner than it should have been possible fromthe height he had fallen from, Harry hit the ground hard and painfully.
The wind was knocked out of him and dizziness set in, making him feel nauseous. When he tried to move his head Harry was surprised to find it hurting. Had he hit it when he crashed? It wouldn't surprise him if that had happened, but he couldn't remember it.
As he lay on his side, Harry didn't dare to open his eyes, fearing that the world would be spinning around him. One hand was resting on the ground while his left one still had a secure grip on the broom he had been riding.
Harry knew that Draco's broom wouldn't be any good now. He had felt how it broke under the landing, no magic was able to fix that kind of damage done to a broom such as a Firebolt.
People were approaching him, though he was facing the wrong direction, Harry could still hear them coming. They were moving with caution, as if they expected him to jump up and attack them.
Harry was quite surprised that they hadn't bothered to stun him, but maybe that would work in his favour. He just needed to get one chance.
Gritting his teeth, Harry rolled around so he was facing his ambushers. He blew a few strands of long hair out of his face with a frustrated huff, ignoring the pain that was shooting through his body at this. If he hadn't been sure that he would be bruised come tomorrow before, he sure as hell was now.
Some of them ran they were the ones to first enter his range of vision.
Someone crunched down next to him and cold hands were on his cheeks, stopping Harry from moving his face away from them. The person's mouth was moving, but it took him a moment to gather himself enough to be able to listen to what was being said.
"-Potter kid." Harry blinked, knowing that this wasn't good as he found himself looking up in the face of a tired Remus Lupin. The golden eyes were watching him keenly, almost as if the man believed that Harry would disappear between his hands if he looked away for a moment.
Feeling his left arm being picked up Harry looked away from Lupin and at the person holding his limb. "It is a bonding bracelet. It has to come off before we can take him to the camp, otherwise the one who put it on will be able to find us all." There was a touch of desperation in the other's voice.
Rage consumed him from seemingly nowhere at the sight of Peter Pettigrew, and Harry tried to yank his hand back while using the other to scratch the man at as many possible places as he could reach.
A hand placed on his chest pinned him to the ground, making tears well up in his eyes as stones and roots pressed against his bruised back. "Sorry pup, but it is best if you're not awake for this. Stupefy."
The last thing Harry thought before losing consciousness was that Lupin's voice sounded much like the one who had helped Astoria and him when they came out of the fire.
Then blackness consumed him.
Next: Harry meets Dumbledore and we get to see some of Harry's and Severus' early time together.
Until next time