Author Name: creamtea-from-FAP
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OoTP, HBP.
Genre: Book 7. Adventure, thriller.
Main Character(s): H. D. Beta: Anise. Some test-reading by SUM.
Ship(s): Ships are touched on as part of the narrative, but the story isn't about the ships. Ships are: H/L, D/Hr. These ships: H/G, R/Hr, D/G are included – but not in a good way!
Summary: ALT BOOK 7: STORY ALREADY WRITTEN AND BEING PUBLISHED WITH FREQUENT UPDATES. FORTY CHAPTERS. What's it about? Love potions; emotional shoot-outs, expulsions, hex-fights, fist-fights, kidnappings, bank-jobs, secret weapons and castle-battles. And … DRACO!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter 34
"You sodding wanker, Potter!"
It had been a split-second decision: to do or not to do, and given a choice like that, Harry Potter had always chosen 'do'. And now they were suspended upside-down in bowl of blazing fire. Beyond the flames were reaching, scaly hands. The stench of decaying seaweed and putrefying flesh. Hollowed, sometimes missing, eyes. The dark chorus of mindless moans.
"You pigging moron, Potter. If we get out of this, I hope Voldemort fucking-well kills you!"To his whisper of 'Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?', it had been the responding statement of 'Giving up Harry Potter's little friend eh? And before I've even had my wicked way with her, too', containinghis name which had established the connection. That and silvery grey eyes cutting a downward glance, peering into the concealed mirror at an almost impossible angle as the glass had jangled in Malfoy's inside-cloak-pocket.
After that there had been the sudden jarring close-up of a glassy-nailed, pale hand giving him the finger, effectively telling him to shut up, then a mish-mash of unseen, hardly-heard conversations, with most of the words missing.
Hermione and Malfoy had clearly gotten themselves ensnared among Death Eaters, with Malfoy trying to bluff his way through.
There were mysterious gurglings and chokings, cheers, jeers and cat-calls, odd talk of 'pets', Voldemort banging on about having got his Horcruxes back and all culminating in what was, unmistakably, Hermione's voice incredibly offering the Death Eaters a way into Hogwarts! Across the Inferi infested lake and through a secret tunnel, down into the Chamber to a weapon which would 'annihilate all those unworthy to be called wizard'!
The Inferi in the lake now reached up out of the water to try and grasp Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, who bobbed upside down in the air above them. Harry was roaring in his efforts to keep he and Malfoy levitated above the waterline whilst Malfoy screamed as he shot a ragged stream of flame from his wand, encompassing he and Harry in a shell of protective fire that might at any second burn them as much as it burned the Inferi.
"Get a move-on, Potter, you complete dickhead!"
Harry had told Phineas Nigellus, via his miniature, to raise the alarm at Hogwarts and then had taken his 'do or not to do' decision. He had mounted up, Cloaked, and charged across the lake to intercept the flotilla of Death Eater boats – with about a hundred Death Eaters on board, evidently all those available had been summoned - which slid silently across the smooth, night-time waters. Voldemort was in the lead boat, half-standing in the prow, hand gashed open, wand dripping with his own blood and veering in his hand like a compass needle - somehow pointing the way.
He could hear Malfoy on the still-open mirror connection, keeping up a running commentary on where they were, disguised as taunting Hermione: 'What on earth do you think Potter would say if he knew I was leading you astray, Granger? Taking a girlie down into a deep, dark tunnel to do bad things in a chamber, possibly showing her his big, nasty snake?' … Then there wasMalfoy telling him how he could get Hermione away under cover of Darkness: 'Oh, come on Granger, let me slip you some wood while no-one's watching. I've got my hand and my Darkness Powder. Want me to throw some in the air so we can snog each other senseless without being seen? Just think: you could hold my Hand, Granger, I always knew you wanted to touch my dirty thing in the dark.' And about how Malfoy wanted Harry to somehow scoop Ginny Weasley to safety: 'We could have a foursome: Potter could swoop in and grab the Weasel-bint.'
But It had been a split-second decision: to do or not to do and … Ron, Luna, good people were already dead, he couldn't bear to do nothing.
Catching up with them as they almost neared the sheer, rocky shore near the underground lake, Harry had determinedly ridden into them.
It had been chaos.
The hull of a rowing boat in the water, heads bobbing about in the lake – screaming, arms thrashing, the drowning Death Eaters being yanked under by Inferi. McNair in the water ruthlessly forcing another Death Eater beneath him, drowning him as he used the body to elevate himself out of the lake even as he drifted away into the night. Malfoy on his feet in a boat, grabbing Hermione and reaching for his wand to Disapparate, or grab his Darkness Powder or do something. Away in another boat, Ginny Weasley screaming. Hermione struggling with Malfoy, half standing in their rocky rowing boat. Didn't she realise that Malfoy was trying to get her away?
Harry had veered about wildly, spinning his broom almost in a circle, wobbling violently as he tried to fire, steer and keep his Cloak on all at once.
A dust-storm filling the air as Voldemort gathered some dried sand from his boat and flung it into the air, whipping it into a churning cloud of swirling dirt which showed Harry as a hollow shape, edged about by swirling sand. Hermione, convulsively gripping a seated Death Eater and toppling them over the side so that they lurched against Voldemort's boat, rocking his aim as he steadied to shoot Harry.
A spell caught him off-balance and he veered and lost his Cloak. There was screaming and panicking as Death Eaters took aim – but the air went black and in the darkness, Harry veering wildly out of control, hitting hard against the rocky face of the far shore, hurled from his broom.
The Darkness clearing in patches, blown away on a turbulent wind called up by Voldemort. In the half-visibility, Voldemort pointing his wand at the sheer rock-face. His, thin, high laugh … 'Ahhh! It wants proof – it will only open for the blood of a Slytherin heir'. Slashing his hand anew with a spell, pressing the blood to the rock, and a passage opening into a cave area.
A struggling Ginny Weasley was yanked into the cavern. Hermione seemingly willingly stepping into the cavern. Snape hovered, gaze darting about – looking for Harry? –before following Hermione. The Death Eaters streaming into the tunnel, Bellatrix Black looking nervously about for her sister.
Panicked, Draco Malfoy noisily defending himself against suspicions about the Darkness Powder. Voldemort staring at Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy's lizard-gaze darting between his son and his Master, then barking at his son, voice like a knife-blade. Harry, unseen in the patchy Darkness, bursting up and aiming to smash into Voldemort or at least Lucius Malfoy, but slipping and catching the startled Draco Malfoy instead. Both flailed wildly in a patch of thick Dark and toppled backwards into the Inferi-infested lake with a splash that rose up and wet the rock ledge.
Lucius Malfoy crying out to Voldemort even as his son disappeared to his death, "My Lord! My apologies! We can still get him back! My -" But Voldemort cutting him off, his voice thick with disgust, "Come! There is no time! I can always find another Draco Malfoy. I am used to the failures of the Malfoy family!"
Unwanted, it rang within Harry that Professor Dumbledore's insistence upon not changing time because it would affect how Harry viewed Snape, was right.
If Harry hadn't thought that there was a chance that Snape was against Voldemort, he would have pushed Snape over the ledge and let him take his chances with the Inferi, the way Ron had done.
And now Malfoy and he were upside-down in a bowl of fire: Harry grunting as he hauled them across to the rock ledge, wincing against the heat, levitating his own heel even as he almost dislocated his other shoulder suspending Malfoy's body-weight.
Malfoy screaming out swear-words whilst using his wand to shoot jets of Inferi-repelling, water-proof fire.
"Potter! You stupid-arsed, toss-pot!"Malfoy gave one last scream as Harry unceremoniously dropped him to land clumsily on the safety of the rocky ledge; Harry collapsed practically on top of him.
An ugly tangle of limbs and floppy hair, Malfoy lashed out, kicking Harry off.
"Get off, Potter, you prat!"
"Get off? I just saved your life, didn't I?""What from? I was getting away with it!"
"Getting away -? I saved you from Voldemort because you were in trouble over the Darkness Powder! He's already got Hermione – he's already taken her into that Chamber, I've lost Ron, I've lost Luna - what was the point of giving him you?"
"Got Granger? – she has a plan! I don't know what it is – but she quite clearly has a plan! And now she's down there by herself! And why haven't you mentioned Ginny Weasley? She's in there too! I know that little Lovegood girl is dead, Potter, and that Weasley probably is too – but you've got to think of the living! You were at the other end of that mirror, weren't you? You must have had a rough idea what was going on from what I was telling you. I could have rescued me and Granger! All you had to do was swoop in and save Ginny Weasley! You must have known that!"
Harry's face coloured red.
"You threw away the chance to do some real good by lashing about, being flashy and 'heroic' and tipping up boats, when you should have been picking up just one girl! You must have known that!"
Harry fought to rally, "I saved -"
"You saved me because you didn't want to save her! It was an ABG rescue: Anyone But Ginny Weasley!"
xxxx"Shut up and stop lying!" Malfoy yelled. "You don't care. You only wanted to save me because Dumbledore did. You're just finishing his job for him!"
Draco Malfoy was ranting about Ginny Weasley, about Harry's failure to save her at what had possibly been their last chance.
"For God's sake – I couldn't save everyone!" screamed Harry.
"I wasn't asking you to save everyone," yelled Malfoy, "it isn't your job to save everyone! I was asking you to save her!"
They were standing inside the slimy, rocky tunnel opened by Voldemort that led past the underground lake and down to the Chamber. An underground waterfall saw tons of water a minute crashing down from the lake outside. Any noises from outside went unheard. The place was deafening.
Harry had gotten inside the tunnel but he had been prevented by going along it by something unexpected: the same type of Dark Mark barrier that had sealed off the tower that time from all but Death Eaters.
Malfoy, branded, could get through, but Harry could not.
It was clear that the tunnel ran deep and Harry recalled his own long helter-skelter ride back in his second-year, back when he had been a child and had gone down to the Chamber: the Chamber was miles deep. Walking, it would take the Death Eaters an hour to get there, and he had already warned the castle.
Hence he and Malfoy stood just outside the barrier, screaming at each other. Malfoy had restrained himself enough to start telling Harry all about the unknown Death Eaters – he got as far as Cuffe, Dawlish, Bagman – but had cracked under tension and fear and they had fallen back to roaring.
Six years of unresolved animosity spewing out on both sides.
"The Chamber?You've heard the rumours! She secretly knew all about it! I was in the Chamber. I know what Tom Riddle said down there. He said she didn't know what was going on with the diary 'at first' – so that means that she did later!"
Malfoy almost choked, "You're taking his word for anything? I bet you're just remembering it the way you want it to be instead of the way it was!"
Harry mentally stumbled. He had bits of memory of it really: clashing, smashing, jumping pictures. But had she really come-to in the Chamber and immediately started sniveling about how it was all Tom Riddle's fault? Or had she indeed, just in those first defenceless seconds, just before her self-interest about 'being expelled' had kicked in, had she really said: 'it was me'?
"The first words out of her mouth were 'it wasn't me'!" he roared. "Never mind anyone else: it wasn't me! All she cared about was not being expelled. She's just a deceitful, self-centered -" Harry practically ran out of words. "And after that, moping and gawping and then practically changing her whole personality to attract attention to herself and 'get' me! Using boys left and right! Using Corner, setting up Dean -"
"So? Anyone with eyes to see knew that! Anyone could see – anyone except you, because you couldn't be bothered to look!"
"Why should I? Anything I did, she would have twisted it to 'mean' something!"
"So what? She was taken over by one of the most evil bastards who ever lived! Lured in, buttered up, and then pounced on when she was eleven years old! He was the friend in her pocket and he turned on her! I don't care if she was stupid for not holding her hand up about that bloody diary straight off. I don't care if she was deceitful. She was a home-schooled little girl lost in her first year at Big School who was having horrible blackouts and being preyed on and bullied by her only 'friend'. Her days must have been full of dread. She must have been living in fear. Those blackouts? She must've thought she was going mad! No wonder she made real efforts to go out with you – she wasn't interested in you, she just wanted the protection of The Boy Who Lived!"
"I – she - she drugged me!"
"Oh for -! That's what this is really all about, isn't it? The fact that you snogged her! You just cannot take the fact that you were lusting. That you finally got your precious dick dirty, you pious little Gryffindor Virgin!"
"She's a liar and a coward!" Harry waved his arm wildly in the direction of the hidden Chamber. "This mess? The mess she's in? It's all her own fault! If she hadn't dressed herself up as my girlfriend, she wouldn't have become a Death Eater target! If she hadn't pretended to be someone she wasn't, she would have been okay now!""Oh, sure, I can see you're right. I can see that it's all her fault," Malfoy's face suddenly creased with wrath, "because she's so smart when she's thinking with her knickers!"
Stunned and smarting, Harry mentally flailed about for anything he could sling at Malfoy.
"WHY DO YOU CARE? She didn't care about you! To her, you're just the 'class creep'! She knew you fancied her and she didn't want you! All you were to her was some bloke sniffing around for it! You were to her was what she was to me: nothing! You meant nothing to her! NOTHING! She cared about you about as much as I cared about her, and I DIDN'T!"
There was suddenly a long silence that wasn't a silence: no words from either boy, but for each just a sort of inner, rushing noise, like the sound of seashells held to the ear.
And then … no wands, no spells, no fancy wizard's dueling – it was bare fists and feet and rolling over and over and snarling and punching and gouging.
And within seconds, Harry started to panic.
Malfoy was so frighteningly and unexpectedly strong!
He could not believe that the slight, pale, frail-looking Malfoy could struggle so wildly or hit so hard. He had fought him once before, well, twice, well, three times if you included the awful Sectumsempra incident. But once had been two-onto-one on the Quidditch pitch when Harry had punched him over and over, using the snitch as a knuckle-duster as George Weasley had more or less held Malfoy down. The other time was when Malfoy had outwitted him, magically out maneuvered him, and then stamped on his nose on the train. The third had been an unspeakable clash of wands and spells ending with a bloom of blood on a bathroom floor.
Somewhere along the way, Harry had wished that he could just have a punch-up with Malfoy that was one-on-one, no wands, no magic, no-one else, just a straight out fist-fight where a single winner could finally be decided.
Well now he had it, and as he struggled to hold on, his blood was singing with horrified panic at the sheer, screaming, feral, rage which Malfoy was hurling at him.
He had been foolish enough to tickle a sleeping dragon, and it had awoken.
He had never really wanted to hurt Malfoy – just smack some sense into him. But Malfoy had no such compunction and was gouging, clawing, biting and snarling as Harry was reduced simply to the level of just holding on.
Harry had tried to wrap his arms and legs about the threshing Malfoy, but at one point Malfoy had his thin, sinewy fingers reaching for Harry's throat, his face a raging mask. Harry's shoulders and head had desperately reared back, legs and hips still tangled up with Malfoy's as he continued to try and pin him down against the slippery rock ledge. Alarmed, he'd drawn back, panting, even as he'd kept a desperate grip of Malfoy's skinny wrists and forced the clawing hands away from his windpipe.
Terrified at what he'd unleashed, Harry had thought that Malfoy was going to tear his throat out.
Malfoy was furiously arching, flexing, wildly heaving, shoulders now pinned down but rearing up from the hips. Harry was suddenly unbalanced and sliding sideways, with Malfoy threatening to upend the scales and bear down on him. For a kaleidoscopic second, a fixed point in the swirling pattern of the fight, Malfoy was on top, hair all over his face, snarling mouth and flexed fingers, his narrow forearm actually jammed across Harry's throat, pressing down, blocking his windpipe, Malfoy's sharp white teeth a row of gritted determination. And then the balance shifted again as Malfoy over-rotated and Harry was on top.
Malfoy twisted sideways and caught Harry's wrist, biting down hard. Harry hissed and instinctively wrenched his hand back only for Malfoy, released, to lunge upward again, raring and darting like a snake.
Harry desperately caught a fistful of abundant, white-blond hair. Malfoy wrenched his head sideways, tearing himself loose, and strands of hair yanked free, wrapped up in Harry's fingers.
Harry redoubled his grip and smacked Malfoy's head back into the rock.
There was a gasp, and Harry thought Malfoy had stopped, shocked, but then Malfoy wrenched a hand free and viciously raked his glassy nails down the side of Harry's face and then Malfoy reversed, Malfoy's back suddenly now to Harry, legs and feet scrambling under him, rising up and throw Harry off, head jerking backwards, trying to butt Harry in the face, one hand planting square down against the greasy rock as the other arm elbowed back to catch Harry hard wherever it could.
More practiced at the rough stuff, Harry lurched out of reach, bent his own elbow, and smashed it down into Malfoy's back, winding him, and sending Malfoy sprawling into the rock.
Malfoy collapsed against it, lungs wheezing in the sudden exhalation.
Done.
Finally.
Over.
Harry closed his eyes – suddenly spent.
Then Malfoy turned and smashed him in the face with a lashing kick from one of his storky, jack-in-the-box legs, driving him back even as Harry felt at least one tooth come loose.
Malfoy rounded on him, crouching, on the rock. "Don't you get it?" Malfoy's face was wet with the moisture off the rocks. "Don't you get it? I used to look up to you – you little fuckwit!"
Harry's eyes went wide even as his hand cradled his swollen jaw and his own gore dripped from his mouth.
"You'd done what nobody else had, Potter! - even when you were just a baby! Everyone knew your name. And then when I met you on the train, you turned on me. And now you're just a stupid - you stupid -" Malfoy's voice was hitching now, whether breathless or crying, "- you stupid, you useless …" He kicked at Harry again, lashing out, driving him back, "You fucking waste of space!"
As Harry looked on, blinking, astounded, Malfoy was now almost half-weeping from sheer raging anger.
"You never gave me a chance! Not even from the start! Not from the first time I met you in Malkin's! I was trying to talk to you – and you were just ignoring me. You were some unknown short, scruffy, runt wearing ill-fitting hand me downs, your glasses were broken and I was still trying to speak to you, because yeah, I'm such a snob - but you weren't listening!"
Harry's mouth shifted silently. He didn't remember it like that – he remembered Malfoy being rude and arrogant …
"And I bet I was one of the few people who ever bothered to speak to you before knowing you were the Famous Harry Potter!"
That wasn't true – Harry was sure that wasn't true. Hagrid had … Hagrid had known precisely who he was, from the very start. But Ron had … Ron had spotted his scar on the platform and had suspected he was Harry Potter before he'd even sat down in Harry's compartment.
Harry was stunned that Malfoy remembered all that so clearly, when he had almost forgotten their first meeting in Malkin's. It was as though Malfoy had somehow hoarded all the slights he felt Harry had passed him, as though they must surely have meant something. He recalled seeing Malfoy that time at the start of second-year in Borgin and Burkes, when Malfoy's dad had been offloading hot property. Malfoy had been moving about the shop, picking things up and putting things down, yaddering on to himself, annoyed: Harry Potter and his famous scar … Harry Potter and his fancy broom … Malfoy's dad had been bored and irritated, having clearly heard it all a dozen times before. It was though Harry had been on Malfoy's mind all the time, as though Malfoy had carried him around with him, some warped mirror image of an 'invisible friend'.
" … And I knew something was wrong on the train coming in with that Dementor – horrible memories -"
Harry became aware that Malfoy was still talking, well, still ranting.
"– awful un-named things. And I even nicked Longbottom's Remembrall but it didn't help. But it was okay – because you'd fainted. And when you fell off that 'effing broom with that Dementor, I was so scared because you were the one who was going to hold the pass for the rest of us!"
Harry was astounded. Malfoy had done nothing but take the Mickey when Harry had got back to class after coming out of the infirmary! Taunting, gleeful, arms wind milling, doing spirited renditions of Harry falling off his broom, doing Dementor imitations until Ron had flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at him.
The exuberation of sheer relief?
"That sodding great Hippogriff, it nearly cut my arm off! My arm was killing me for months – but later I still tried to help you and bloody Granger at that Quidditch World Cup. I told her to get out the way. I said to keep her head down …"
Harry recalled the World Cup when the Death Eaters had sparked a riot among the drunken, laughing wizards, whipping up a disturbance, releasing repressed wizard disdain against Muggles.
Malfoy had stayed out of it, somehow distant, leaning against the trunk of a tree in the dark, arms folded, regarding the riot coolly, making no effort to get involved even though, at that point, the Death Eaters had been 'winning'. Malfoy had stared the ugly situation flat in the face and said that the rioting wizards would be after the Muggleborns next – Mudbloods, he'd said - and that Hermione should keep her bushy head down.
Harry and Ron had bridled at Malfoy's implication that Hermione was in any extra danger, they hadn't wanted to see that some people did think Muggleborns were inferior, resisting Malfoy's advice because they hadn't wanted to see that anyone could make a blood distinction. But Malfoy had no qualms about telling the truth. He saw the ugly side of life, and wasn't afraid to keep looking at it. In a way that was a strength.
"– and even after fourth-year and Moody and being half-killed with that ferret thing -"
Quite clearly that was something which weighed heavily with Malfoy.
"- I still warned you about the Death Eaters spotting that idiot, Sirius Black, on the platform at Kings Cross. I as good as told you: 'I'll be dogging your footsteps' … And then I tipped you off to the Death Eater's in that Herbology lesson, them knowing about that moron Hagrid being out East looking for giants. And I was surethe Ministry was planning on locking you up as a nutter, and I practically told you that too, that same time I tried to warn you that time in the corridor, shouting about being expelled if you played Quidditch without permission …"
Harry was astounded. He did not remember any of that stuff happening in that way!
"… All the times I tried to stop things going over the edge, trying to hold some balance … and then you go and get Father arrested!"
Harry realised that Malfoy hadn't even mentioned that time he'd been beaten up on the Quidditch pitch, as though he'd just accepted that as 'stuff that just happened'. Two onto one, Harry using the Snitch like a knuckleduster – Malfoy had gotten beaten badly but he'd still managed to give George a swollen lip. Of course, Malfoy had won what he'd wanted: an advantage over Gryffindor - getting Harry banned. Strategy over strength. The Lion and the Serpent.
Then Malfoy had actively tipped his lot in with the Death Eaters when Harry had gotten Lucius Malfoy banged up – as Draco Malfoy saw it.
"Everything I've tried to do – everything -" Malfoy's voice was hitching in his throat, "- just a complete mess …"
"Malfoy, just join me! It's easy. Just take my hand – it's not too late!"
"It's been too late for six years!"
"Just switch sides!""My Father -" There was a silence, then Malfoy shouted, "Dad was only in jail because I let you go!"
It was Harry's turn to look puzzled.
"I gave Weasel-face and that lot their wands in Umbridge's office. Have you forgotten? If I hadn't been so stupid and done it, you couldn't have got to the Ministry – none of it would ever have happened!"
Malfoy was feeling guilty about that?
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Malfoy! Hermione said -"
"Don't quote Granger at me! Because you've never even got that Granger must have a plan right now, or she would never have let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. She's taking them in for a reason! It's something to do with that weapon!"
"What weapon? I destroyed the Basilisk!"
"The Basilisk was just guarding the weapon in the Chamber!"
Harry was aghast. "There's a weapon in there that's supposed to annihilate all the Muggleborn? And that's a good reason for Hermione letting them in?"
"Oh -! Bloody typical! It never said 'annihilate all the Muggleborn'! That's not what the book said! It said: annihilate all those unworthy to be called wizard! That's not the same thing! 'Unworthy to be called wizard'? That could mean anything! It depends what you regard as unworthy, doesn't it – you cretin! But no – you'd never think of it that way! You get an idea in your head and it's just stuck there! Especially if it's black and white because that's the only type of thinking a thick little git like you can grasp!"
At that, Malfoy crawled to his feet: split lip, blooming bruises, the lot. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I'm going down this tunnel. The Death Eaters think I'm still one of them: if I go in now, willingly, then it proves it to them. When the action starts – and I'm sure it will – if something weird is going to go off, I want Mother, Father and Aunty out of it."
He straightened, wincing, his leg hurting from the fight, breath shaky as he wiped his face clean with the palm of his hand. His voice firmed. "Warn the school: tell them not to strengthen the wards when they think they are under attack. Tell them not to irretrievably lock themselves in. Tell them to sedate all the kids and kill all the Puffs -"
Harry started, it seemed such a bazaar suggestion.
"No time to explain, just do it. It's about pets."
Harry jolted, he recalled Voldemort saying that word.
"Those Puff things aren't natural," continued Malfoy. "They're a Death Eater shake'n'bake, they're some kind of control device that sends kids psycho. The Death Eater plan is to use the Inferi and giants to stampede the Hogwarts staff into sealing the castle. And when they are sealed inside, they'll set the Puffs off, send all the kids who have them as pets mad, and then with all that distraction, do what they like in the Chamber because then everyone will be too tied up to stop them even if wards in the Chamber went off."
"I'll use Nigellus to tell everyone. I'm coming in with you."
"You can't get in, you time-wasting idiot!"
Malfoy regained control of his temper, "And besides, what if I don't want you!"
Harry bridled.
"Oh don't give me that 'effing righteous act, Nobility Boy. I mean it: what makes you think I'd want you? What use are you going to be to me? You're rash, you're stupid. And when it gets to it, when it gets to the really dirty stuff that just needs to be done no matter how foul, how awful -" Malfoy's voice fractured but then re-hardened into a hissing anger, "I bet you're gutless!"
"I've been fighting Voldemort since I was -!"
"You haven't been 'fighting' him – you've been lucky!"
"Malfoy, I saw you on the tower. You're so tough, so calloused? You can 'do whatever it takes'? You couldn't kill Professor Dumbledore. Even the Felix backfired all that year because you didn't want to kill. What makes you think you can kill anyone else now?"
"Because I already have, Potter. I killed someone tonight. That choking you must have heard? It was me killing Slughorn!"
Harry felt something abruptly slip within him. Malfoy had killed …?
"It was him or me! Him or Granger! I had to do it! They'd already killed Mrs. Weasley when they'd grabbed Ginny Weasley, they weren't going to stop at us once the truth came out!"
Mrs. Weasley …?Harry felt as though he'd been pushed over a cliff and was falling through mid-air, his stomach not quite able to catch up with him.
"Granger and I got swept back to the Death Eaters by accident. Slughorn was there. He knew I'd been trying to walk both sides of the street. I had to get him before he got me. I had to kill someone – so I killed him!"
But Professor Dumbledore had refused to turn back time and save Ron and Luna because he hadn't wanted Malfoy to kill … and now that had all been a waste …?
"I'm already up for a Lifetime in Azkaban, Potter," Malfoy's voice was a cracked laugh now, "I'm going to pay for it anyway, so it might as well be: commit one crime, commit one thousand free. And besides, Mother and Father are down there -"
Harry felt a blaze of anger. Malfoy had killed? The Professor's refusal had been for naught?
Harry hurled his wrath at Malfoy.
"Your father? Will you give over about your dad! He treats you like a dog! I saw you together that time in Borgin and Burkes in second-year! He didn't even waste whole sentences on you!"
"Do not criticise my father!"
"Why not? I'm sick and tired of hearing 'my father' from you! You're always saying it, always quoting him. It's like you're trying to convince everyone that he loves you and cares about you – convince even yourself!" Harry lashed about for some deep core of reality that he could fling at Malfoy to wake him up. "Trying to convince, because deep-down you know it's not true!"
Harry felt his lip split as Malfoy's fist hit him in the face.
Harry was expecting another roiling, over and over set-to, but instead there was only a hot-eyed silence from Malfoy as they other boy glared at him, breathing noisily through his nose.
"I've had it with you, Potter," Malfoy's voice was an angry, tearful hiss now. "I don't care if you're Prophecy Boy – if that turns out to mean anything in the end anyway. Calling me about my dad? What about you and that Godfather of yours?"
Harry started – Sirius?
"I heard what Granger said – she only dosed you because you were out of hand and getting people topped."
"I – I wasn't – I didn't -!"
"You did! I know the story: you blundered in there and then that Order lot had to run in after you. Sirius Black got killed – but he wouldn't even have been there if it wasn't for you!"
"I did not kill Sirius!"
Malfoy was suddenly livid.
"You did and you know you did! Because if you weren't so sure you were guilty, you wouldn't be screaming so hard that you weren't!"
Harry took a staggering step back as though he'd been pushed.
Malfoy's expression darkened, scowling. He took a single step back which took him beyond the invisible Dark Barrier. Without taking his eyes off Harry, Malfoy reached into his cloak-pocket, drew out his half of the two-way mirror set, dropped it to the floor and, with a grim set to his mouth, shattered the glass under his boot-heel.
He had severed the connection between them.
Malfoy gave him a disgusted look and turned on his heel and limped off into the dark.
Harry blinked and stared after him.
And then ran from the tunnel. Ron, Luna, Professor Dumbledore and … Sirius …?
But he had only been doing what he thought was right!
He had not killed Sirius!
He raced out from the tunnel as though he was trying to outrace his own thoughts, because at least he could warn Hogwarts not to seal itself shut, not with the enemy already within.
But it was all too late for that.
Harry and Malfoy had been thundering at each other in the echoey tunnel, deafened by roaring water, and had not heard what had been happening outside: with the Death Eaters well inside the tunnel, the Inferi and giants and Dementors had already attacked.
The castle was already under siege.
About him, Harry felt the shudder of rocks and the great grinding sounds of stones shifting as mighty defences were deployed, gates and locks were barred and wards were redoubled.
The tunnel behind him closed, as did every other entrance into Hogwarts.
Hogwarts had just sealed itself: but its inhabitants were not protected from without, instead they were now exposed to the danger from within.
"Phineas! Phineas Nigellus!" Harry was screaming into his currently blank miniature portrait, but it was all too late.
An insignificant speck on a rocky ledge by a lake, Harry looked up into the black night sky as it churned with Dementors, the walls besieged by giants, the grounds a seething mass of Voldemort's pushing, grunting Inferi who had overwhelmed the wards at the school boundaries: too dead to be damaged by them.
The glittery black night sky was alight with the flash and smoke of wand-fire as those manning the Hogwarts battlements shot wildly down at the press of attackers below.
The air was alive with panicked yells.
And then above all that, came high-pitched screams as a little girl ran, panicking, along the battlements, her hands to her hair, trying to tug something off her.
A Pygmy Puff.
And from within the castle more screams could be heard: more children running about wildly as they now wrestled with the demons at their shoulders.
Dementors. Inferi. Giants. A red-streaked, spell-strewn night. The whole scene was a horrid, heated, heaving, daemonic morass.
Hieronymous Bosch had come to Hogwarts.