28. Revelations
Harry didn't feel like moving and he wasn't really sure if he was awake, asleep or dead. He seemed to be lying on a cushioned surface on his stomach and his cheek was pushed into what could have been a pillow. Jumbled up nightmare images flashed through his head as grim murmurs slowly drifted into his hearing.
"…Poppy. Are you saying that the sap was trying to liquefy his muscles?"
"Nasty stuff Minerva, and hard to recognise according to Professor Sprout. The Eucapatholyptus looks exactly like a harmless Blood-wood. I dread to think what would have happened if she hadn't been up here when he was brought in."
"How did Pomona know what it was?"
"One of the two fellows that helped Mr. Weasley bring him back'd already removed quite a vicious curse that had Potter pinned to the ground, but nothing he cast helped Potter's paralysis. When I asked about the wound in his shoulder the Professor noticed the splinters in his clothing. He was hardly breathing by then."
Harry tried to open his eyes as the murmuring voices echoed over him lingeringly, but nothing happened. Not even a fluttering of eyelids.
"The shard entered his shoulder… just there. See? It was pulled out rather roughly going by the tear, though nobody seems to know by whom. If it'd stayed in there any longer he would have been beyond my aide. He will need complete bed rest, of course. For the next few days at least."
"You are aware of how difficult that will be under the circumstances?"
"Mm, yes. Unfortunately I am quite well acquainted with Mr. Potter's… determination."
Groggily, Harry tried to move, to roll over in an effort to ease the ache in his limbs, but it wasn't just his eyes that didn't work. Not even a finger lifted off the bed.
"How long will the antidote take to work through his system?"
"He'll be a bit wobbly on his feet for a time, but he's breathing normally already. He should be able to make it to the bathroom and back but not much further than that for a few days, I'm afraid."
"What about Smith?"
"Heavily sedated until we can get two coherent words out of him." Harry felt the mattress lift slightly on one side as a sheet was drawn up and tucked in. "The Ministry's hounds will be back tomorrow to question him fully. Its hard to believe a young man like that would lead poor Miss Granger into…"
"Yes. Well we do not have all the facts yet, Poppy. I imagine there is more to this than what Mr. Weasley has so far informed."
As thoughts of Hermione bombarded him, Harry tried to push out some of the sickening pressure building in him. It would likely come out as an awful groan and Harry wouldn't have cared. Any sound would have been a release, helping him to escape this waking prison he found himself in. But nothing, not even a whisper passed his lips. His whole insides were swirling with anger, frustration, and sorrow slowly rotting inside him.
"I would have worried about Smith's safety tonight except for the fact I gave young Ronald something to calm him before I sent him off as well. I've never seen a student look so murderous–"
"Thank you, Poppy. I believe Mr. Weasley was … very close … to Miss Granger. She was … an exceptional … young woman."
McGonagall's voice sounded strangled and Harry started to lose grip on whatever it was that had woken him.
"I must be going, Poppy. I do not like to leave but some things will not wait. … I will notify the Grangers … before I leave for the Ministry. You will be able to handle things here until I return?"
Harry registered McGonagalls anguished tone at contacting Hermione's parents and guilt forked through him like lightening. It was his fault she was gone. He had been so busy worrying about Ginny being a target that he had neglected to watch out for his other two highest priorities. Ron and Hermione. His Hermione. And now she was gone. Sweet kind compassionate lovingly loyal impossibly bossy and always right Hermione.
Best friend for ever Hermione.
How could he have let this happen…
"He's out of danger Minerva. Don't worry, neither of them will be going anywhere this evening."
Harry no longer wanted to hold on. To think about how she had slipped so violently away from him. Because of him. He let go and felt himself fall. Footsteps faded into nothing.
… Potter …
Harry was dreaming of rain. So much rain, that he could no longer see the ground, just a dark ocean and grey storm clouds. The murky water pooled around his thighs as large blobs continued to fall. The droplets dented the surface causing rippling ringlets to expand and collide in a never-ending cycle. Harry wondered if he too was made of water.
The tips of his fingers swirled lazy patterns through the spitting swelling, volumous surface, as he stood not moving, just watching the water rise. He thought about how peaceful it would be to just stand there and let the water keep coming. To let it swathe him. Envelop him.
He watched as it bloomed higher and higher. Maybe when it covered him completely it would finally shut out the awful sobbing that persistently echoed around him.
"…Potter…"
Harry ignored the intruder to this grey, wet and empty place where he didn't have to think about anything except the rain.
Warm wet salty rain.
He lifted his face to the weeping haze and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the water seeping up his body. It was up to his elbows and he let it keep coming. Willed it to come.
As the rain sprinkled onto his face he slowly became aware that he was leaking. He looked down and saw salty water seeping through his shirt and running in rivulets down his chest. At the same moment … he realized the incessant sobbing had stopped.
"Potter!"
Harry opened his eyes. The second he did he wished he had let the water take him. He was lying on his back in the comfort and safety of the dimly lit hospital wing at Hogwarts and it was wrong. It was so wrong. Like everything since… since…
He closed his eyes again and sucked in a breath.
"Don't you dare go back to sleep!"
Harry knew that voice and the acidic tone with which it spoke.
"Sod off Malfoy." He croaked as he rested an arm over his eyes.
"Oh. No. You. Don't!"
The blanket that was covering Harry's only half pyjama clad form was yanked off the bed and the cool night air settled on him like a cold hand across his chest. Stiffly Harry rolled onto his side and curled his knees up.
He had no idea how the Slytherin had got into the hospital ward, and didn't care to know, but he did know why the other boy was there, and Harry found he no longer cared about that either. He closed his eyes to the outside, unconcerned if he never opened them again.
"Potter. Get up!" Malfoy whispered hoarsely as he walked around the bed until he was standing in front of Harry.
Harry ignored the Slytherin but Hermione's accusing, lifeless form seemed burned into the back of his eyelids and with a sinking feeling, he decided he couldn't look at it anymore. He opened his eyes slowly, scowling at his own cowardice, and stared blankly at nothing in front of him.
An impatient huff came from Malfoy. "Its already past ten. We have to get moving."
Harry didn't move.
Nothing he did made anything better. Maybe if he stayed here and didn't move at all then his friends would be safe. Maybe if he stayed here long enough he wouldn't have any friends to worry about keeping safe.
Maybe then no one else would have to die.
One of the hospital wings metal chairs was scraped noisily into view. Malfoy then threw an invisibility cloak over one of its arms and dropped into it. He lifted a knee to rest his foot up on the edge of Harry's bed before sprawling back and raking a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. He was quiet for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. Harry's gaze was drawn to him long enough to take in the Slytherin green pullover and black pants the boy was clad in and the weary, uncertain look on his face. Harry looked away to stare at nothing again.
"I hope this isn't going to take long." Malfoy deadpanned. "I have plans at midnight."
Harry almost closed his eyes again at Malfoy's attempt at humour. But the fact that the Slytherin tried to make light of the pain the boy suffered nightly only tugged at the pit of his stomach. Only the thoughts of seeing her again kept them open. He was so tired of the pain – of his own, and of everyone else's.
"Look." Malfoy sighed again and looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably. "Neither of us is any good at this Potter. So why don't we skip the part where I act convincingly like I care, bypass the whole woeful outpouring of Gryffindor sentimentality that, Merlin forbid, we both know I don't have a hope of tolerating without taking the mickey, and you just come right out and tell me exactly what it'll take to get you off that bed and out of the dump of self pity you are currently wallowing in. Because – quite frankly – it's boring and it's selfish and I don't have the bloody time for it."
Harry should have felt mild shock and would normally be affronted at Malfoy's words, and yet he remained unmoved. It was going to take a lot more than Malfoy's lack of tact to pierce his numbness.
It must have become clear to Draco that Harry had no intention of continuing on with their plans tonight, because the Slytherin's casual façade shattered suddenly. He kicked out his foot; jarring the bed Harry was lying on and sending his chair skidding backwards. Harry was jolted out of his revere while Malfoy leapt to his feet and lunged forward, grabbing Harry's arm and yanking the wary-eyed Gryffindor up to bring their faces within inches of each other.
"You pick tonight of all nights to give up!" Draco hissed through his teeth. He searched Harry's face impatiently and then tightened his grip. "I know what you need Potter. Revenge."
Before Harry could gather his wits he was thrust backward onto the bed again. Malfoy turned and stalked away. Harry lifted himself onto his elbows with difficulty, still incredibly stiff and sore from the poisonous sap and watched as the Slytherin stopped beside a bed some way down and opposite. The angry blonde drew his wand and pointed it at the unconscious sandy haired Hufflepuff that lay oblivious in the sheets.
"No!" Harry croaked out, not at all certain what Malfoy had in store for Smith. He thought he ought to keep the seething Slytherin from doing something that Harry would surely regret.
Malfoy looked over his shoulder disgustedly at Harry. "He has to pay for what he did. It's the only way you'll be free of that pointless and emasculating guilt that you're infested with." The Slytherin reached forward and grabbed a fist full of Sandy hair, yanking the other boy's head up so he was in a sitting position. He snarled at Harry. "And if you won't do it, I will. I need you on your feet tonight, Potter. I cannot afford you to be weakened by self loathing and pity."
Then suddenly a yellow flash darted from Malfoy's wand and Smith gasped in a breath of air, clutching at his chest, his eyes remaining eerily closed.
Harry swung himself onto the side of his bed, ignoring the sharp pains coming from his stiff limbs. "What did you do?" He demanded.
Smith sagged again, the weight of his torso only being held up by Malfoy's grip on his hair.
"A little pick me up. Guaranteed to break through most common sedatives." Draco eyed Smith with interest. "It's a tad painful, bit of a shock to the system, but nothing a pure-blooded traitor like Smith here couldn't handle." Malfoy pulled Smiths head up higher and grinned malevolently as it hung forward. "Dear oh me, some people just can't get up in the mornings."
Before Harry verbally protested, he was wincing at the effects of another yellow flash Malfoy sent Smiths way. Smith's eyes flew wide open and he drew in a rattled breath that sounded like it could be his last, his arms still clutched at his chest. Harry suspected the only thing keeping Smith from falling backwards onto the bed was Malfoy's unyielding grasp of his hair.
"Malfoy! Let him go." Harry ground out, finally managing to work his way off the edge of the bed onto his feet.
"You don't need to worry about being found out. I put a silencing charm on the doors when Poopy Pomphrey left. Oh Come on Potter. You know what he did as well as I do. I was here when they were trying to mend you. He's a traitor. A blood traitor but also a double-crosser who betrayed his own side – hell, his own girlfriend – at the first sign of trouble." Malfoy yanked Smiths head back so the boys face was tilted towards him. Smith was panting and dazed from his rude awakening, and growing more frightened by the second.
Malfoy's lip curled dangerously in distaste as he moved in closer to the scared boy.
"Do you know what my side does to traitors?" The Slytherins voice hissed dark and threatening. Not waiting for an answer he continued on slowly, relishing the other boys fear. "They peel the skin from you body, layer by layer, magically so you don't pass out from the pain and horror, and then they just walk away and leave you." Malfoy moved his head round so he was speaking with soft venom into Smiths ear. Zach was shaking so badly the metal bars on the bed were rattling. "Do you know why? Why they don't torture you further? Because skin is the bodies largest organ, and when it's simply taken away, all of your other organs begin to shut down from shock."
A change was slowly coming over the Slytherin as he spoke. The malicious bravado was gradually being overcast with repulsion. "They say you can feel your outer flesh shrivelling as it dries out. But not the face. A lipless mouth tends to drool rather a lot, and the salt in the tears that leak from raw, sagging eyes, burns like acid as it drips. It's slow and agonizing… And the worst suffering you can imagine before you die…" Malfoy's expression was laced with pain and bitterness as he trailed off.
Smith let out a whimper and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Clear wet drops fell down his flushed and anguished cheeks.
"Malfoy. That's enough. Let him go." Harry said croakily under his breath, sickened by what he had just heard.
Malfoy glanced round at Harry and then back at the pitiful Smith and then he finally let the boy go, his sneer plastered back in its usual place. Harry rested his full weight on his feet and stood for a moment to get his balance. He took a tentative step to the bedside cabinet and grabbed his glasses before pushing them up his nose and picking up his wand, feeling somewhat more secure in Malfoy's presence now it was in his hand. Then he turned slowly and began lifting himself back onto the bed.
"What the hell are you doing? Why are you getting back into bed?"
Harry sighed and without meeting the incredulous stare he was sure to be getting from Malfoy, he rearranged the bed covers and settled back against the propped up pillows.
"Potter!" Malfoy spat. "Did I not make myself clear? Shake off this quagmire you're stuck in and hex Smith until he's the slobbering blob he deserves to be and you feel better. Then we can go."
Smith made a keening noise.
"I'm not going anywhere Malfoy." Harry pushed his hands up under his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Don't you get it? Hermione's… They're all dead or dying, and I don't want … to know about it anymore. I don't want to… to be the cause … anymore."
Zach started mumbling incoherently in the background, rocking back and forth on the bed, clutching at himself as Malfoy advanced on Harry.
"You are a part of this whether you want to be or not. You always have been and always will! And you're not the only one so stop being so weak and pathetic." The Slytherins face twisted angrily. "You should count yourself lucky! Not all of us have a Secret Society and Ministry officials covering our backs. I haven't exactly been served a dish full of dancing Veelas either. But did I give up when…" Malfoy stopped and struggled to get the words out. "When my mother died."
Harry recognized that Malfoy wasn't associating his mother's death with the truth. Murder by Voldemort. Maybe that's how he managed to still serve his Dark Lord.
"Of course not!" The Slytherin continued. "And you. You're The Chosen One." He mocked with his lip curled. "Oh… but of course. How terribly insensitive of me. It must be insufferable to have a world full of hero worshippers fawning all over you and jumping to your every need. Over protective mobs racing you off to the hospital wing whenever you do no more than stub your big toe. It must be the absolute pits to have a world of people at your fingertips ready to help you – fight for you – take you in and…" He mouthed without sound for a moment in search of more words and then said even louder. "The difference between you and me is that they mistakenly see you as the saviour of the wizarding world, while its people like me that are really trying to preserve it!"
Zach gave another whimper at Malfoy's raised voice and continued to murmur something over and over again that neither of them could understand. (Not that they were listening. They had both sunk into eyeing each other off challengingly like they had habitually ended up doing since they were eleven years old.)
"One day they'll understand." The Slytherin narrowed his eyes, his passion clearly visible. "One day they'll see what it means to allow fools like Dumbledore to make the rules. Muggles will never accept wizards. They fear our magic, they fear our spoken word, and they even fear that we live longer than them. Its jealousy – nothing nobler – and muggles destroy everything they fear and envy. If we don't do something now there'll be no more wizards left to–"
"PUT A CORK IN IT MALFOY! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SAYING THAT THAT CRAZED PSYCO TOM RIDDLE – THE ONE THAT PUTS YOU THROUGH HELL NIGHT AFTER NIGHT – IS YOUR ANSWER?" Harry's outburst had surprised even himself, but he was so sick of hearing Malfoy's oblivious hypocrisy.
"He's the only one powerful enough to do anything about it." The Slytherin said quietly, avoiding Harry's glare. "I trust Fathers judgment."
"This would be the same Lucius Malfoy that placed a dangerous book into eleven year old Ginny Weasley's hands – a pureblood remember – so that the entire 'impure' student body could be systematically wiped out? Only she told Riddle about me, didn't she? And in his infinite wisdom he was no longer content to just lie and manipulate Ginny and kill hundreds of kids – sorry – mudbloods. He abandoned 'the noble cause' for consuming her soul, leaving her for dead so he could have another go at me, a near-powerless twelve year old, all because he learned I had somehow almost killed him when I was one." Harry watched as Draco's expression faltered into an uncertain frown. "Funny how he can ignore his 'noble calling' without a second thought when he thinks his own existence is under threat."
Harry had Malfoy hooked. The Slytherin was listening in spite of himself. Harry continued, taking full advantage of the moment.
"I don't imagine he looks too kindly on his Death Eaters valuing their own lives as much. It's probably in some Death Eater handbook somewhere that you have to sacrifice yourself 'honourably' for your fellow pure-blooded comrades future glory. Still, I suppose it makes sense that Voldemort wouldn't have to hold to that – having a muggle father and all." Harry heard the hiss from Malfoy but continued on as if he hadn't. "Of course Voldemort would like everyone to believe he's warring for pureblood supremacy, but that's hardly likely since he's a halfblood, don't you think? But your father must know all about it. He wouldn't be gullible enough to commit his whole family into the service of the darkest wizard of all time without being certain of Voldemorts agenda. Your father is surely smart enough to know the real reason Voldemort needs his Death Eaters."
Harry's gaze drifted over Malfoy's decidedly pale face. The Slytherin was frowning in quiet fury and confusion, reflecting his inner turmoil as he stewed over what he had just been told. It was almost enough to make Harry wish it wasn't too late to care whether or not he'd made a difference. "Anyway." Harry said resignedly, pulling the blanket back around him. "You'll forgive me if I don't want to hear any more of your Death Eater 'Youth Training'. I don't care about any of it anymore."
This seemed to bring Draco out of his thoughts. He narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Of course you care… or you wouldn't be behaving like such a coward!"
"What?"
"You finally lose someone close to you and you-you can't stomach it anymore!"
"F-Finally? …" Harry blustered in disbelief but he was not prepared to get into the long list of people he'd lost so he went on the attack. "Hermione's dead you sodding insensitive prat! DEAD! She died because I couldn't save her!" Oh no no no no no… Harry could feel the salty sting prickling at his eyes and he did not want to do this in front of Malfoy. He whipped his glasses off and lifted his palms up to his eyes. He was not ready to open these floodgates. Maybe he would never be ready. Maybe if he started crying for Hermione, he'd never stop. Just drown in the tears like in his dream.
"It's always the same story with you, isn't it Potter? Oh what?" Malfoy bit out impatiently over his shoulder as Zach's mantra became more urgent. "What are you on about Smith?"
"She's not d-dead."
The Slytherin turned to face the distressed Hufflepuff. "The mudblood?"
Harry dropped his hands away from his face where they had been pressing in violently in an effort to hold back his grief and stared at Zach.
"Sh-she's not dead." He stumbled out. "Just … knocked out."
Harry slipped off the bed and began walking stiffly towards Zach, barely even registering the pain caused by his movement. "But… but there was a green light. The killing curse … I saw it."
"Snape." Zach sobbed as Malfoy approached, watching on in interest. "One of them went to fire the k-killing curse… at me …and he shot the wand out of their hand… just in time. It barely missed me."
"Snape did that?" Malfoy demanded, frowning intently as the other boy nodded. "How do you know it was him?"
"I didn't – not for certain – until his mask came off when Harry hit him with a stun."
Malfoy didn't let up, now seeming as interested in what happened as Harry, who was temporarily struck dumb, afraid to speak in case Hermione's reprieve was broken.
"So Snape didn't kill Granger but he took her with him?"
Zach nodded at Malfoy and wiped the back of his pyjama sleeve across his wet face, sucking in air to catch his breath. "He stunned her. Knocked her out. He wouldn't tell me why he wanted her, just-just that I had to do as I was told or they'd come for my family next."
"How did you get her out of The Three Broomsticks?" Harry asked grimly in a sudden need to know the details. He finally allowed a tentative relief to wash through him.
The Hufflepuff had the decency to look ashamed. "Snape appeared at my house a week ago. He said they knew about our relationship and that I was to insist on meeting with her to break it off. Then he gave me something to put in her drink – a Confundus powder I think – and told me to lead her to the forest out by Shady Lane."
Malfoy was now level with Harry and both of them were frowning intently at Smith, and going by the panicked glint in Zach's eye as he flicked his glance between the two young men, they must have looked a formidable pair standing side by side united against a common enemy; Zach…
"Er… ak!" Zach shrivelled back under their heavy gazes into the headboard with his knees hugged protectively to him and began twisting his hands and mumbling under his breath that they couldn't harm him for trying to protect his family… no way, Of course not… They wouldn't…
"Well." The Slytherin said with bright impatience. "Now there's no excuse, Potter." He lifted his wand and flicked it carelessly at Zach. The boy's eyes rolled back in his head and it flopped back with a hard thump onto the headboard, passed out cold. "Can we go now?"
"What did you do that for?" Harry asked angrily, eyeing the unconscious Hufflepuff.
"You don't want him to know what we're up to do you?" Malfoy said, dismissing Harry's concern with a wave of his hand. "Besides, if he was awake he'd be calling Madame Pomphrey in here demanding room service and then we'd have to deal with her too."
"You know, you wave that thing at people way too casually for my liking. Have you ever tried talking to people, reasoning with them?" Harry asked, eyeing the Slytherins wand warily as he headed in search of his clothes.
Malfoy looked surprised as he raised an eyebrow. "Reason with them Potter? Why on earth would I bother? We're finally going then?"
Harry nodded and delicately picked up his jeans, wincing at the sharp pain in his neck and arm and leg and … well pretty much everywhere. "I have to make a stop on the way though."
"What? No! There isn't time." The Slytherin protested.
"I'm not leaving Ron believing Hermione's dead. So save your breath. We see him first – then we'll go to McGonagall's office." Harry held up a hand as Malfoy opened his mouth scowling. "And turn around so I can get changed."
The Slytherin's expression suddenly changed and gone were any traces of anger and impatience. He lowered himself onto the edge on Harry's bed looking in the opposite direction and plucked at the corners of the pillow lightly. "You could give me the passwords we'll need up there then I could get started while you're busy petting a morose and leaky weasel." (He shuddered)
Harry sent the back of the blonde's head a warning look and started awkwardly dressing. "We're going together – or not at all." He warned the Slytherin grimly. There was no way he was going to let Malfoy loose in the Head's office to pick his way through Dumbledore's pensive and precious memories. Who knows what he's left in there?
"Just a thought." The Slytherin answered casually, yet there was a vague undertone of defensiveness. Harry frowned to himself. Surely Malfoy didn't think that the last two days changed everything between them? Certainly they had seen another side to one another, but ultimately, neither of them was about to change who they are – Malfoy least of all. Harry only had to see him with Zach a moment ago to know that.
It was slow and painful going for Harry trying to get up to the Gryffindor tower. Malfoy seemed twitchy and agitated at the amount of time that was passing, knowing he was going to have to get back to the Slytherin common room before midnight. Although the fact that they were both squeezed under Malfoy's invisibility cloak, unavoidably rubbing shoulders and thighs in an effort to stay hidden could have been said to antagonize the blonde further, it wasn't doing much for Harry's comfort either.
Malfoy stopped grumbling and kept his mouth shut while Harry poked his head out at the Fat Lady. Tapping his wand on her frame a couple of times to wake her up, he gave her the password and speedily grabbed the frame as it swung open before the tired pink-clad woman dropped off again and it closed leaving them still on the wrong side of the door. Once inside and surrounded by the deep reds of the furnishings and the golden glow from the lamps and the fireplace, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and took a quick look around. Seamus and Dean were sprawled on the large couch before the fire and Pansy was huddled in a secretive chat with Crabbe and Goyle in what had unofficially become the Slytherin corner of the common room.
Harry slipped off the cloak carefully; expecting Malfoy to stay covered and made his way over to Seamus and Dean. They both wore the same punctured expression that went with their deflated bodies. They looked up as Harry eased himself up to lean on the couch. The walk had left him feeling very wobbly indeed and he was glad to have something to rest against.
"You shouldn't be here." Said Seamus in concern. "You look bloody awful."
Dean wriggled forward into an upright position so he could see Harry better. "Seam's right. You look like the walking dead. You should be resting back in hospital. There's nothing you can do up here, mate."
"Listen." Seamus began, a sombre tone to his voice. "We really don't know what to say…"
"Yeah." Dean's voice cracked and his eyes looked excessively watery. "I still can't believe it, you know?"
"Ron." Was all Harry managed to croakily get out before Seamus jerked his thumb up the stairs.
"He's in the room, with Ginny."
"He's taken it pretty bad." Dean added cautiously. "He needed company, but not the sort me or Seamus can give, so we're dossing down here for the night. Ginny's taken your bed."
Harry nodded at Dean and let go of the couch, swaying and shaking as he turned and made his way to the stairs.
"Harry."
He tossed a look over his shoulder at Dean.
"You really ought to go back to Madame Pomphrey's mate. There's nout you can do and you don't even look like you'll make it up the stairs."
"Of course he will." Came a clipped voice. They all turned to see Malfoy who had discarded the cloak and had been huddled with Pansy and co. He was straightening from the table and heading over to Harry with raised eyebrows. "I can levitate you if you like?"
Not on your life!
"Er… um… no, really. I'm fine. Really." Harry couldn't imagine anything worse than being at Malfoy's mercy at the end of his wand. If anything clarified what sort of relationship the two boys had in the last few days, it was Harry's unwillingness to trust Malfoy as far as he could safely toss a fully-grown blast-ended Skrewt.
Malfoy smirked as he joined Harry at the foot of the stairs. "You Gryffindors are supposed to be all trusting and noble, aren't you?"
"Trusting and noble, we are." Harry said as he started the agonizing ascent. "Blithering idiots, we're not."
"Doesn't say much for our new found friendship, now does it?" Malfoy cocked an eyebrow and placed a hand under Harry's arm to help propel him along a little faster.
"Speaks volumes really." Harry replied without meeting the blonde's eye as he limped and winced his way along. "It might surprise you to learn, considering you see me as some dopey senseless underachiever smothered by a hero complex with no idea how I even get up in the morning let alone blunder my way through escaping your Dark Lord time and time again, that I actually have enough Slytherin in me to recognize an extraordinarily risky offer made by you Malfoy – The Slytherin Personified."
Malfoy snorted and genuinely smiled in amusement as he shook his head. "You have about as much Slytherin in you're whole body as I do in my little finger. Less, in fact."
"Tell that to the sorting hat, since I had to fight with it to stay out of Slytherin." Harry stopped at Malfoy's barefaced incredulous start. "You should speak with Pansy about being to quick to label people."
Malfoy growled. "Where do you think she got it from in the first place? That dosey cow doesn't have a single thought of her own. The perfect girlfriend really." He added in realization.
"Is there anyone you know that you have a kind word to say about?" Harry asked grumpily.
Malfoy smirked as he searched Harry's face. Then he grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him forward again. "Come on." They didn't stop again until they reached Harry's dorm room.
"You stay out here."
"I've no desire to see the Weasel blubbing over his mudblood." The Slytherin's lip curled in distaste but it lacked its usual venom. "But get on with it. We've wasted too much time already!"
Harry turned his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breathe before knocking lightly on the door. He waited a moment but no sound could be heard from within and when he shot a look at Malfoy, the other boy was flicking his head, urging him to go in. Harry sighed and opened the door, stepping into the dimly lit room and closing the door quietly behind him.
Ron was not in bed asleep as he'd imagined, but sitting up at one of the windows, silhouetted by the almost full moon. He didn't turn to face Harry as he crossed the room, though a slight shift in his arms hugging tightly to his knees let Harry know the red head knew he was there.
"Ron…" Harry said quietly and moved until he was as in-front of his best friend as he could get. He gratefully took purchase of the sills opposite edge, perching himself there and trying to calm down his shakes. He leaned forward to try and draw Ron's eyes from the emptiness beyond the window. "She's not dead."
At first Ron didn't react. Maybe he had already closed off to whatever it was that Harry might have been going to say. Harry could understand him not wanting to hear any more damning admissions or explanations, or worse, apologies that only drove Hermione's death home even further. So Harry watched and waited, and when Ron finally turned his head very slowly away from the window and met Harry's gaze, Harry leaned in even further to make sure it got through this time and spoke in a low voice. "She's not dead, Ron. They didn't kill her. Hermione's alive. Snape took her alive."
Ron sat as still as rock for a moment, and then his breathing suddenly became heavy as he continued to stare at Harry. A small sob came from off to the side where Harry's own bed was. He turned to see Ginny sitting up and watching them silently with silvery streaks glistening down her cheeks. She climbed out of bed and wordlessly walked to Harry, leaning into his chest and letting him embrace her in his arms that trembled as he tried to tighten his grip around her.
"Are-are you…" Harry looked up at Ron's attempted question. "H-how do you know?"
"Smith." Harry said. "Malfoy woke him up and he told us what happened. The Avada curse was meant for him. They wanted Hermione alive."
"Snape took Hermione alive." Ron's voice suddenly changed. He seemed unable to allow himself any real relief over the news and now his face curled in bitter anger. "Snape." He said the name like he was spitting poison. Harry could guess the next lot of questions out of his best friends mouth. Harry was the one who'd had recent dealings with Snape and had even had to trust him with certain things, like helping Malfoy for instance, but Harry did not want to have to sit through the onslaught and accusations right now, when he was feeling just as betrayed and had no answers either.
Ron was opening his mouth to start his rant when the door opened and Malfoy strolled in. Ron's attention was immediately diverted to the blonde and Harry was actually thankful he'd disobeyed Harry's order to stay put.
"You've molly-coddled your followers enough. Let's go."
In his weakened state, Harry almost missed catching hold of Ron in an effort to stop him using Malfoy as a punching bag to de-stress on.
"Malfoy." Harry said wearily as he continued to hold a shaky arm across Ron's chest, barring his way. "I think you should leave."
"Why?" He asked coyly. "So you can all talk about me behind my back?" He pouted ridiculously and slipped both of his hands in his pockets, slouching against Harry's bedpost.
"What have they done with her?" Ron bellowed too close to Harry at Malfoy. Harry winced and eased away, waggling a finger in his right ear.
"How should I know Weasel? I've been here at Hogwarts haven't I?" The Slytherin replied lazily.
"Bollocks!" Ron barked. "You and Snape are thick as thieves and he's the one that's got her. You know Malfoy! I know you do." Suddenly Ron lunged forward and fisted the front of Malfoy's jumper, yanking the blonde's face closer to his. "And you're not leaving here until you spill everything you know." Ron threatened.
"Ron, he was just as surprised about Snape as we are. I was there when Smith told him and he even questioned Smith himself what Snape was doing there." Harry interjected calmly.
Ron eyed Malfoy who merely flicked his tightly set jaw up in a move to indicate agreement. The Slytherin still looked calm and composed with his hands still in his pockets, but Harry could see the long line of the boys wand already in hand under the fabric and the glint of fear and adrenalin in his eyes. He needed to diffuse this situation fast.
"Snape obviously wanted Hermione alive specifically." Harry went on quickly. "It couldn't have been as bait to get to me because I was right there. The whole exercise would have become pointless and they could have taken me there and then but they didn't."
Ron's grip was loosening slightly and Malfoy edged back where he could without seeming like he was.
"There's got to be a reason Snape wants her. And the sooner we figure it out, the sooner we can start looking for her."
At Harry's words, Ron released Malfoy completely and turned his attention on Harry and Ginny. Malfoy adjusted his jumper with one hand and leaned back against the bedpost, his wand hand never leaving the pocket.
"Why her though Harry?" Ron asked, a pained expression on his face as he wracked his brain. "How are we ever going to figure out why Snape took her? She's just a school kid. Merlin I wish she were here. Its time like this we need her. She's always been the smart one."
"Exactly." Ginny said tonelessly. They all looked at her and she shrugged, her eyes still red and puffy, flicked between them. "Well, she is. And Snape knows it. Without her, getting in and out of the next stronghold alive will be almost impossible. I mean, you couldn't have got the last Horc–"
Three sets of eyes suddenly widened in shock, while one pair narrowed.
Ginny had only just managed to stop herself from giving away to Malfoy what Harry, Ron and Hermione had been doing for months now. She looked mortified as she clamped a hand over her mouth, but at least she had managed to stop herself in time. But that was now the least of her problems.
Ron's mouth gaped open and Harry turned a furious glare on her after he darted a look at Malfoy. How could she know what they had been doing? She had always been aware that something was going on, but she'd never been privy to the details. Yet somehow, she had just made it known that she was fully in the loop about past happenings, and hang on a minute – how does she know they'll need Hermione to get to the last Horcrux when they have no clue as to what it is – let alone where to find it?
Ginny began to shrink under Harry's piercing glare. They would need to have a talk. A talk? They needed more than a little chat to get this all out in the open, but with Malfoy here, and Harry on a mission, now was not the time. Harry could have roared aloud in frustration. What had Ginny been up to?
"H-h-h-how…"
"Not now Ron," Harry cut off the stunned and semi-speechless Ron, still frowning intently. He flicked his head in Malfoy's direction and Ron closed his mouth and swallowed. It was then that Harry noticed Malfoy's demeanour had completely changed. He was no longer slouching and eyeing them all in disinterest; he was standing rigid and intensely eyeing three Gryffindors expressions. But he said nothing.
"Er… Malfoy and I have to… go." Harry trailed off as he began walking to the door.
"Snape would not have gone to Hogsmeade in broad daylight to abduct Granger just because she's the smart one out of you three."
Harry, Ron and Ginny stared at Malfoy blankly. No one had expected him to offer any sort of opinion on the matter, certainly not one that appeared to be trying to be helpful.
Malfoy sighed exaggeratedly. "Think about it. Firstly, if that's all they wanted to do – hinder your progress in whatever it is you're doing – then killing her would take far less planning and manpower – much easier. And why Snape? A high-ranking Death Eater, not to mention one of the most wanted men around. He killed your beloved Dumbledore who, lets face it, has more allies than The Dark Lord has enemies. It's risky for him to show up in Hogsmeade. Very risky."
"So what are you saying?" Harry asked cautiously.
Malfoy shrugged a shoulder. "I'd guess that Snape needed Hermione. For something important. Something worth the risk. And its not you, Potter. Like you said, you were there, they could have taken you – but they didn't. What's she been working on?"
The question was directed at Harry, but Ginny answered.
"No one knows. She's been holed up in her room night after night ever since we got back to Hogwarts. She hasn't told any of us what she was doing."
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "If it was me, and I'd just lost my best friend – forgetting the fact that I'd never have a mudblood as an actual friend, let alone a best one – then I'd be looking to find out what she'd been up to before she disappeared."
Harry and Ron exchanged looks.
"I'll check her room." Ginny volunteered. "I'll try tonight, but it might have to be in the morning. Lavender was pretty upset about… well, you know."
"I'm coming with you." Ron said flatly.
"You can't." Ginny said hesitantly. "Boys can't get into–"
"I'll fly." And with that, Ron dug his broom out of his trunk and headed to the door.
"Oh, all right. But I'd better go and warn Lavender. She's likely to hex your ears off if you just go bursting in there. Especially after what's happened."
"I'll see you both later then." Harry said quietly as he opened the door and waited for Malfoy to go through before him.
As the two of them descended the spiral stairs Harry almost felt like he was going into the Gladiators ring. He knew there was going to be confrontation tonight, he'd known it for days, but as the time drew nearer to getting to the memory in the pensieve, an awful dread was gathering, hanging over him like a black thunder cloud.
As they stepped back into the common room, Pansy rushed up to Draco and whispered urgently and Draco swore loudly. A second later his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his right hand gripped his left forearm as he dropped to his knees with a gutteral moan.
