Chapter 35

Draco found himself once again trailing behind the churlish, black clad Professor Snape through the many dark and hidden passageways to the same hidden, enchanted door they had been through only two nights before. Had it really only been forty-eight hours since he'd taken the Mark? It seemed like a life time ago, so much had transpired since.

Draco noted, with grim dissatisfaction that Snape still felt they needed to move through the night like they were being chased.

But, having once before been this route, he felt confident to let his feet go on autopilot, while he contemplated the meaning of this upcoming meeting with the Dark Lord. He thought it very interesting that he had received a letter from his father only moments before his Mark began to burn. How much did his father know? And, more importantly, what was it all about? One thing was certain, it wasn't anything so harmless as…what… a surprise party for Voldemort's birthday…Draco chuckled mirthlessly at the thought of the Dark Lord wearing a brightly colored party hat, and eagerly pawing through party favors.

"What's so funny, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape cracked out menacingly.

"Nothing, Sir," Draco said wiping a lopsided smile off his face...not that Snape could have discerned his expression in this inky darkness.

"I think we must be prepared for a fairly big announcement," Snape continued in clipped tones.

"What do you suspect it's all about, Sir?" Draco asked, not really expecting a satisfactory answer.

"I do not know, Mr. Malfoy," he growled. "But, I think we've all sensed something was coming ever since the Azkaban breakout. I, for one, didn't expect it to come so soon, though."

Draco and the potions master were moving along at an even faster pace as they neared the dark and forbidding edge of the Dark Forest. Draco rolled his eyes at the remembrance of how hard the trek through the brambles and tangled underbrush had been the night of his initiation.

As it turned out, for some reason, the trip was not as difficult as he remembered. Perhaps he had gotten used to it. At any rate, it seemed no time at all before they had arrived at the spot Snape deemed appropriate for disapparating.

"Take my arm, Draco," Snape said punctiliously

Draco obeyed immediately and they were off, with the same crushing, squeezing sensation taking him in its hands and wringing him out. This time Draco landed on his feet at the end of the ride. It gave him a strange sense of accomplishment.

Looking around, he realized they had come to the same spacious clearing ringed around by the extravagantly tall trees, who seemed to be keeping out unwanted observers like sentinels on duty. The eerily greenish half light cast an ominous glow upon the other black clad Death Eaters who moved about like so many black, cumbersome beetles, murmuring amongst themselves excitedly. It was apparent that they were looking forward to their Lord's announcement.

Looking to the front of the evil gathering, Draco saw Lord Voldemort's silver, velvet draped throne, and he couldn't suppress the shiver that rippled through him. Phantom pains shot over him as his mind paid homage to the excruciating pain he had endured only two nights prior.

"Draco."

The smooth, calculating voice of Lucius Malfoy penetrated Draco's musings.

Draco turned, keeping his movements deliberately slow and controlled. His face was emotionless as he beheld the cruelly pleased face of his father.

"Father," Draco returned respectfully, slightly inclining his head.

Lucius moved smoothly toward his son, placing something bulky in his hands, with careful reverence.

"Put this on," he said imposingly and without further explanation.

Draco lifted the object into the light. It was the skull-like Death Eater's mask. He tried to look pleased at his father's unwanted gift. He put it on without examining it, being very much afraid his revulsion would show too plainly on his face.

Lucius looked infinitely satisfied.

"Come, Draco. Stand beside me," he said as he swept Draco away toward the front of the group awaiting Lord Voldemort's arrival. Draco sincerely hoped Snape was right behind them. He did not wish to be surrounded by his father and the other Voldemort devotees should the situation go awry and require a quick exit. To his immense relief, Snape appeared on his right, while his father occupied his left.

The Death Eaters behind them were now quieted down. The sense of eager anticipation in the air was palpable. All eyes were to the front, so no one missed the form of Lord Voldemort slipping gracefully out from behind a cadre of very large, very imposing Death Eaters, his personal guard. He did not address his now absolutely silent followers until he had proudly ascended to his thrown. His face was slightly more animated than the first time Draco had laid eyes on him, but he still looked as menacingly aloof and unapproachable. He was once again wearing a black robe, but it was of a more dense material and conservative cut than what he had worn two nights ago. It almost looked like a priest's cassock, except for the deep purple cape that cascaded from his thinly corded neck to the heels of his black leather boots.

"My friends," he rasped, with a graceful, all-encompassing wave of his arms. "You have been summoned for a very specific purpose."

Draco noted that Lucius shifted excitedly in his place, making his son roll his eyes heavenward, despising his father's obvious display of fanaticism. Draco was glad, for the first time, that his expression was hidden under the Death Eater's mask.

"You see," Voldemort continued coldly, "I have been planning a little display of power designed to keep the venerable ministry of magic on its toes."

Draco heard Snape clear his throat quietly at this point, as the Dark Lord paused for effect. The silent fervent curiosity of the Death Eaters could be tangibly felt in the air.

Then, Voldemort's eyes went very hard as he spoke again.

"In two days hence, I will expect all Death Eaters to descend upon King's Cross Station for a bit of a confrontation with our esteemed Enemy," he rasped out, his eyes roaming over the company imperiously.

There was a soft eruption of anticipatory murmuring throughout the group. Draco felt his heart pounding almost out of his chest.

What on earth could this mean, he thought frantically.

Voldemort seemed to be enjoying the effect of his announcement upon his audience, for he sat back on his throne gazing appreciatively at the quiet uproar for several moments.

Finally, he raised his hand for silence. He was obliged immediately.

"The rest of this meeting will be spent in planning for the attack," Lord Voldemort continued icily. "We want to be sure we are at our best when the Dark Wizard Catchers arrive…don't we?" he hissed, smiling evilly, eyes alight with maniacal mischief.

Low wicked laughter rumbled throughout the assembly.

One hour later, Professor Snape and Draco were racing through the Dark Forest, having apparated just outside the magically protected school grounds a minute before.

Draco was in such a hurry to get back to Dumbledore and Hermione with the evil tidings, that he barely noticed the stolid resistance the impossibly thick and grasping undergrowth was giving him.

Snape had said nothing since they'd begun the return trip home. Draco knew the professor was going over the meeting in his mind, trying with all his might to remember every minute detail. Draco decided that it was a worthy cause and began to do the same. Holding his wand up higher to spread a wider beam of light before him, he continued on while rehearsing mentally everything he had seen and heard.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione had carried out their assigned duty. Dumbledore had read Lucius Malfoy's letter with great interest. And, now he sat with his hands steepled and resting against his lips, looking gravely thoughtful. Harry and Hermione, their gazes locked on the lined face of their headmaster, tried not to wriggle impatiently in their seats.

For several minutes, the warm room was silent except for the homey crackling of the fire in the grate, and the soft, lilting singing of Fawkes, Dumbledore's beautiful scarlet and gold plumed phoenix, who was perched regally in his corner by the door.

Finally, the professor let his gaze rest on the two messengers before him. He jumped a little in surprise, giving the definite impression that he'd just realized there were others in the room.

"Yes, well," he began, recovering himself quickly. "There can be no doubt that we have quite a situation on our hands, I think," he said, waving the letter about gracefully. "First, this letter, and then the summons of Draco and Professor Snape shortly thereafter…"

His voice trailed away, as though he might become lost in his own thoughts again.

"Yes, that's what we thought, too, Professor," Harry affirmed, looking to Hermione, who nodded encouragingly. "Tonight's events coupled with whatever news you've been privy to…"

Harry left his statement unfinished, hoping Dumbledore would fill in the blanks.

"Yes, Sir," Hermione continued eagerly. "Maybe you could tell us a bit about what you've heard?"

She left her question boldly hanging in the air.

"Well, Harry…Hermione," Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling knowingly. "I'm afraid there's very little else I can say," he paused. "I could, I suppose tell you what I suspect might be the case…"

Harry and Hermione snatched at this dangling carrot like starving rabbits.

"Oh, yes, Sir!" they cried in union.

Dumbledore smiled again, his eyes laughing at their insatiable curiosity.

But, the next moment his mouth was a grim line, his eyes somber.

"I think the obvious answer is that Voldemort is planning an attack of some sort."

Dumbledore thoughtfully rubbed at his chin with one finger.

"The thing is I can't help but believe that there's something else happening here," he said, looking mildly frustrated.

"Why would you think that, Sir?" Hermione asked, moving forward quickly in her chair.

Harry stared at his mentor questioningly.

"For one simple reason," Dumbledore answered mildly, "there's been too much information leaked out about this."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Harry asked, obviously looking for elaboration.

"Well, just this…I'm very used to bits of helpful information on the Enemy's activities falling into my hands now and then," he said, looking suddenly pensive, "but, with this particular event, it seems to me that there is too much evidence being just given away to us."

Dumbledore thought a little more. Then, he began again, tentatively, slowly.

"Too many people seem to know about this attack. I've heard from no less than four people about it…and that is quite a few informers, when you think about how tight security has been in the Dark Lord's camp in the past. It's almost as if Lord Voldemort wants to be sure his enemies know exactly what he is about to do."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, eyes wide with sudden fear.

Just then, there was a loud, frantic rapping at Dumbledore's office door. Fawkes, who had continued his melodious singing throughout the preceding conversation, stopped abruptly.

"Come," Dumbledore intoned pleasantly.

Harry and Hermione turned in their seats just in time to see Professor Snape and Dumbledore, both of them wild eyed and out of breath, burst through the door.

"Gentlemen, what's the news?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Snape and Draco moved as one man toward Dumbledore's large, dark wood desk. Draco nodded curtly at the potions master, therefore electing him spokesman on the spot. Then, he stepped back to stand beside Hermione's chair.

"Professor Dumbledore, it is as we feared," Snape began, his breath coming in ragged pulls. "Voldemort is planning an attack..." He paused here to catch his breath. "We have less than two days to prepare!"

Hermione gasped and reached up for Draco's hand. He looked down at her reassuringly, and then locked eyes briefly with Harry, before returning his full attention to the two professors.

"Give me the details, Severus," Dumbledore replied in quiet weariness.

Everyone in the room sensed it was going to be a long night.

An hour later, Professor Snape, with Draco's frequent helpful interruptions, had laid out the whole sordid tale, along with the details of the plans made that night. Only then did the potions master consent to sit down and drink the tea Hermione had magicked up, while trying to listen intently.

Professor Dumbledore, seemingly intent on getting every detail right, questioned Snape and Draco for several additional minutes after the story had been told.

Then, he stood abruptly and turned to the large and heavy cabinet behind him.

"I think we must begin making our own plans now," he said, firmly in command. "First off, I think we will need a map of King's Cross station," he said, quickly finding a large atlas of England. "It would be well if we knew the lay out of the battle ground."

Everyone in the room nodded agreement, as Dumbledore laid the book open to the appropriate pages. Then mumbling a spell he jabbed gently at the map, and lifted his wand into the air above him. Immediately, the map materialized clearly, so that everyone present could read it easily.

"I think we should look for appropriate hiding places for our people," he said easily.

"How many Death Eaters do you estimate we will be facing, Severus?" he asked, turning to Snape inquiringly.

Snape looked briefly at Draco before answering.

"Voldemort made it clear that he wanted all Death Eaters present, so I would say there will be a couple of hundred at least," he said darkly.

"Hmmm," Dumbledore said meditatively. "The ministry does not have that many Aurors on hand, do they?"

"Not to my knowledge," Snape answered quietly. "But, we have at least that number of members in the Order."

"That we do, Severus," Dumbledore answered with a solemn nod. "But, I believe we had better estimate high, don't you?"

He did not wait for Snape's answer.

"We will, in my estimation, need to call upon Dumbledore's army to fight in this battle," he said firmly, letting his gaze rest on Harry, Hermione, and Draco. "You will fight with us, will you not? That is if I can convince the Ministry officials of the need?"

Yes, sir," the three said firmly.

"Of course, Draco and I will not be able to fight in the open, Professor," Snape reminded the headmaster. "We will have to practice some subterfuge, I'm afraid, if we are to continue in our capacity as spies for the Order."

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore said evenly. "But, as you have seen on the map, there are plenty of places within which you could hide yourselves, only engaging when the heat of the battle was directly before you."

Draco tore his eyes away from his professors to gaze at Hermione for a moment. Yes, he would definitely want to be at the battle, even if he could not fight openly. It would tear him apart to be left behind wondering how the conflict went. Especially since he knew Hermione would never agree to stay behind with him. She would be compelled by her courageous spirit to be there, no matter what the cost.

He looked at Harry now, and saw that his eyes were as hard as flint as he listened to the discourse. Harry would not be left behind either; not on any account. Even if the Ministry refused to have Dumbledore's Army participate, Harry would find a way to be there. Draco could not doubt it.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not hear Dumbledore address him. As a result Hermione gently squeezed his hand to bring him back to himself.

"Draco," the professor was saying, "I must have your word that you will remain well hidden, if I am to feel comfortable with the decision to let you be at the confrontation."

Dumbledore eyed Draco over the rim of his glasses.

"You will only do what you can from your hiding place. Is that clear?"

Draco looked steadily at the venerable old wizard.

"Yes, Sir," he answered without hesitation.

Dumbledore observed his Head Boy for a moment more, and then nodded, seemingly satisfied with Draco's firm answer.

"Good," he said, obviously preparing to turn to other things. "Now I will ask you to leave me to contact the ministry with this information. I will procure their permission to prepare Dumbledore's Army to join in the fight. I should hope to have secured said permission by early morning, at which time I will ask you to contact those members of the D.A. which you believe would be most useful. Then we will have a final planning meeting with them in attendance. It is quite possible that Mr. Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, will also be here to represent the Ministry. And, I will ask Arthur and Molly Weasley to come, so that they can inform the other Order members of our plans, as well."

Dumbledore looked at his three students officiously.

"You may go now. Try to get some rest. You will wish to be fresh for the fight!" he said forcefully, but with a smile on his wizened face. "Oh, and do not discuss anything we have talked about with anyone else just yet. Do you understand?"

Dumbledore peered at them meaningfully.

Draco, Hermione, and Harry nodded, and left their seats to head for the door.

"Good night, Sir," they said together.

And with a polite nod in the direction of Professor Snape, they left the two professors to continue their planning session.