Hello all!
Sorry for the delay. My laptop broke, and I couldn't figure out a way to upload to FFN from mobile, so this chapter has been only on AO3 since last Friday.
Small note: for timeline reasons I have edited the events of the previous scene to take place in mid/late afternoon instead of around noon. In practice this consisted of changing about six words.
OK. Onward!
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They landed hard in the front garden of the Potter Cottage.
Draco breathed shallowly through parted lips. The air smelled like pollen, felt thick and unbreathable. The only sound was the ripple and flap of the tents around them. No one was speaking, although the others were all facing his way.
He couldn't meet any of their eyes. What was there to say? They all knew the truth. There would be no antidote for his father, miraculously procured, to save him from the venom of the sword. Lucius was already losing consciousness when they'd escaped. By now, he was dead.
Draco knew this, and yet it couldn't be true. His father, the cornerstone on which he'd built his identity for so long, couldn't have crumbled away from the world within a number of confused seconds. He couldn't be gone.
He found himself looking to Dobby the house-elf first, who was gazing up at him with those tennis ball-sized eyes. "Ah, sir," Dobby said, looking away. Draco heard a hint of sympathy, but there was no sign of regret in the elf's face.
The elf's words seemed to puncture the shock. Ron swallowed and gave his head a little shake. "What are we going to do?" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Hermione …"
But their arrival had attracted attention. The door of headquarters burst open, and a terrified-looking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ran into the garden, followed by a dozen members of the Order.
"What on earth happened?" Mrs. Weasley demanded. "Ronald Weasley—where did you go? What were you doing? You should have been back twenty minutes ago! You said you were going somewhere safe, you said—"
She broke off mid-tirade, scanning their group. Everyone gathered seemed to come to the question at the same time.
"Where's Hermione?" said Bill in a quiet voice.
"Bellatrix has her." The words came from Draco's mouth, but his voice sounded like a stranger's.
Mrs. Weasley's hands clamped over her mouth, but she was one of the few who moved. Most of the Order froze in place as though Petrified.
Remus was the first to recover. "Bellatrix will not kill Hermione," he said, grave-faced but steady-voiced. "We know that much. She will be an immensely valuable prisoner."
"How did it happen, Potter?" said Kingsley. "Why were you near Lestrange?"
Harry explained the broad strokes, omitting details of the Horcrux. The news that they'd gone to Gringotts caused an immediate babble of questions, but none of it meant anything to Draco. He stared unseeing into the veins of ivy upon the walls of the Potter Cottage. His father's body was probably still lying there on the steps. Who would claim it? And even now, Bellatrix might be whisking Hermione or his mother back to the Lestrange House to torture them. There was no room in his mind for anything else, not even the Horcrux or how they would destroy it.
Remus was right, though. That was one comfort: Bellatrix would keep Hermione alive. She would want to trade Hermione for the cup, and now that they had stolen it from under her nose, Bellatrix wouldn't dare to summon Voldemort. Another shred of hope that Draco clung to like a drowning man to a scrap of driftwood.
Still, none of this would stop Bellatrix from hurting Hermione in ways that only his aunt could devise. Nausea churned in Draco's stomach. He wanted to run, to yell, to shatter something. He fixed the Lestrange House in his mind. Yes—they had to storm the place. They had to rally the hundreds of people from the safehouses to Bellatrix's doors. It would invite open warfare upon her grounds, but Draco didn't care. He was ready to burn down all their plans for this one chance—to save the only two people left in the world that he loved.
He was opening his mouth to demand that the Order act when Harry staggered and clasped his palm to his scar. In the next instant, Harry's knees had given out. Draco and Ron caught him, but Harry was twitching, mouth wide open.
"What's happening to him?" said Fred, striding forward as they lowered him to the grass. The rest of the Order crowded around, Ginny kneeling at Harry's side and taking him hard by the hand.
It was a full minute before Harry's eyes came open.
"What is it?" Draco demanded. "What did you see?"
"He's back," Harry gasped out. He struggled to sit up. "Voldemort. He's back in the country, he's just heard about Gringotts. … He heard that Bellatrix was there. He's worried that …" He shot a look to Ron and Draco. "He's worried."
"What's his plan?" Ron said.
"He's going there," Harry panted. "To Gringotts. And once he finds out that we've got—he'll go to—" He glanced around at the Order and made a frustrated sound.
"To where the others were," Draco supplied, ignoring the Order's confused murmurs.
"Exactly." Harry swallowed. "Then Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" said Luna, her voice much less dreamy than usual. "Why would he go to the school?"
Draco's hand tightened on the Elder Wand. "There's something he wants on the grounds."
"You four," said Ginny quietly. "You haven't been working on Occlumency at all. This is what you've been doing. It has to do with what Voldemort wants. What he's been up to this past year."
The look that Harry gave her was apology and affection at once. "Yeah."
"Plotting," Pansy sighed, picking at a fingernail.
"Why didn't you bloody tell us?" George said with an accusatory stare.
"Yeah!" said Fred. "You mean we could've been helping you four stop You-Know-Who from getting some—some secret weapon, or something?"
"It was too much of a risk," said Harry impatiently, pushing himself to his feet. "And Dumbledore told us we mustn't—"
"Albus put this on your backs?" said a rough voice from the fringe of the group. Aberforth was standing between Dobby and Winky, his brilliantly blue eyes boring into Harry. "And even now that your friend's neck is on the line, you're still backing up his saintly memory?"
Harry's fists balled up. "Look, I haven't got time to argue about your brother. We have to get to Hogwarts right now. We've got to beat Voldemort there, because there's something we need, too."
His eyes strayed to the cup-shaped lump in Ron's pocket. Draco knew he was thinking of the Chamber of Secrets.
Draco's heartbeat began to thud in his ears. "No," he said loudly. "What about Hermione? We're supposed to leave her with Bellatrix, are we?" He took a step back from Harry and knocked into someone. He forced his way out of the grouped Order, feeling claustrophobic, needing space to breathe. "You can all do what you want. I'm going to the Lestrange House, and—"
"Draco," said Harry sharply. "Bellatrix is going to bring Hermione and your mum right to us."
Draco stilled. "Why?"
"Because we're going to stand and fight at Hogwarts." Scanning the gathered Order, Harry raised his voice. "We need to start sending word. Everyone who's on our side has to get to the castle. It's now or never. We know that's where Voldemort's headed, and if we don't stop him now, his next move is to come out of the shadows and take over as Minister for Magic. This is our chance."
Harry looked back to Draco. "Once Voldemort realizes I'm waiting for him in Hogwarts, he'll call the Death Eaters there. Bellatrix will be at the top of the list, and she'll have them with her."
Draco tried to wring sense out of the words. He tried to force logic into his thoughts, tried to feel anything besides fear and panic and the need to act.
There was some sense in the plan. Draco knew every inch of the Hogwarts grounds and its security measures, whereas the Lestrange House and its protections were unknowns. It might be easier to stage an ambush upon Bellatrix's arrival at the castle, if they could only control where she came onto the grounds, or where she planned to keep Hermione …
The final piece slid into place: the mirror.
The whole plan unfolded before him. They would get to Hogwarts and take control of the castle. They would destroy the Horcrux, then Transfigure a copy. They would use the mirror to stage a trade with Bellatrix—the cup for Hermione and his mother.
Draco, finally, nodded.
But Aberforth hadn't had his last say. "So, your plan is to go to that castle and use yourself as bait, Potter?" His face was reddening. "You'll take all your friends, all these kids"—he swept his hand toward Draco and Ron, toward Ginny and Luna and Pansy—"out onto the front lines and watch them die?" He rounded on the older members of the Order. "Maybe the boy doesn't know better, but you saw what happened last time. You know how many made it out alive."
"I can speak for myself, Aberforth," said Harry, his voice hard. "And I'm not going to sit here in headquarters and let everyone else risk their necks for me. I can decide what kind of world I want to live in—or die for. I made that choice years ago."
Aberforth's eyes, so remarkably like Dumbledore's, bored into Harry's. At last he lifted his hand to his forehead and smoothed the wrinkles there with his fingertips. "All right, then. You follow my brother's commands from the afterlife. But when you follow Albus, you follow on faith."
Aberforth looked from Harry to McGonagall, then to Remus, then to Hagrid. He shook his head, tugging at his long, scraggly beard. "Secrets and lies and master plans," he muttered. "I know where it gets you."
"So, you're staying here, then?" Ginny said coldly.
Aberforth looked weary. He stumped toward the cottage, his immobile arm swinging heavily at his side. "I'll come to Hogwarts, girl," he muttered. "It'll be the end of all this, one way or another."
The door to headquarters closed heavily behind him, leaving a pregnant pause. Harry stood stiffly, looking after Aberforth. Draco noticed that his hand had fastened around the mokeskin pouch where he kept the Snitch.
Eventually Fleur cleared her throat. "We must act quickly. Tell me: 'ow are we meant to get into 'ogwarts? Surely ze front gates will be too 'eavily guarded, and will draw too much attention?"
Harry hesitated, still seeming absorbed by Aberforth's words.
Draco turned to Hagrid and said, "That gamekeeper's gate in the Forbidden Forest. Can we use it? Or will Snape have tampered with it?"
"Can't tamper with that gate," Hagrid scoffed. "Been around as long as the castle, that has, an' it only opens to the Keeper of Keys and Grounds. Tha's still me, mind," he added with a proud pat to the front pocket of his overcoat, which jangled.
Professor McGonagall spoke with a shrewd air. "Still, Snape will undoubtedly have cast advanced charmwork around the gate, so that he will be informed if anyone attempts to enter by that route. But Snape, for all his master's teachings"—her nostrils flared—"is only the second-most powerful caster of Charms in Hogwarts. … Dobby, Winky, if you are willing to assist us further, I would ask that you find Professor Flitwick and bring him to the gate to meet us. I daresay that between the two of us, we can undo whatever our dear Headmaster may have prepared for us."
#
The second vision struck as they were beginning to smuggle their safehouse allies into the Forbidden Forest.
Draco and Ron sat beside Harry in the trees for five full minutes, waiting for him to come back to himself. But Harry did not gasp and jerk this time, returning to himself. His eyes slid open as though he had slipped back into his body with intention.
"He knows?" Draco said.
"He knows," said Harry.
"So he's going to check the cave?" asked Ron.
"The shack, next."
They sat with the information for a while. At last Voldemort knew they were hunting the fragments of his precious soul. And soon he would be here, seeking the wand that Draco held tightly in his palm.
Draco looked out from the tree line, past Hagrid's hut, across the lake. There stood Hogwarts with its turrets and towers, its ramparts laying geometric shapes across the rolling lawns.
Draco could almost see himself strutting up the lawn at his father's side, six years old. He had visited Hogwarts often as a child; his father's governorship had given him free rein of Hogwarts. Lucius had introduced him to all of it: to the magnificent gates, to the Slytherin Common Room, to the delicious meals in the Great Hall.
Draco couldn't stop turning over the hesitation in his father's face before Bellatrix had started goading him. For one instant, his father had known the truth and tried to understand.
Draco's throat was very tight. He ran his fingertips over the handle of the mirror in his pocket. Would he have been met with the same shred of understanding if he had simply told his parents the truth months ago? They had been at headquarters together. They had been safe. Could he have used those months to explain, to wear them down, instead of deciding to use them as props for their plans with Bellatrix?
He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of Hogwarts, shutting everything out but the present. He squeezed the handle of the mirror so tightly that he could feel its brass filigree making impressions in his skin. He could do nothing for his father. All he could do was focus on Hermione and his mother.
Not long after they'd left headquarters, Bellatrix had tried to contact them through the mirror, speaking Draco's name, then Harry's, and even Ron's, sounding livid. It had taken every ounce of Draco's self-control not to answer—but they needed control of Hogwarts before they told Bellatrix to meet them here, or she would inform the Death Eaters and the Ministry that the castle was under attack.
Draco rose and began to pace. He would not picture what might be happening to them. He couldn't.
As the afternoon sank into evening and their allies filled the forest, not just from the safehouses but from pockets of resistance across the country, Harry was taken by vision after vision. He saw Voldemort journeying to the Gaunt shack, where he spent upward of an hour undoing the complex enchantments that concealed the ring. Then, in the beginnings of real fear, he travelled to the cave, over the lake full of Inferi, to discover an empty basin awaiting him—one that had been emptied long ago by Regulus Black. Harry described rage and disbelief erupting from him in a swirl of destructive magic like a tornado.
Minutes after this vision, Pansy, Ginny, and Luna stepped out of the darkening trees. "There you are," said Pansy, sidling up to Ron to lean against the tree beside him. Ron's ears went predictably red at her sudden closeness, his eyes softening as he looked down at the top of her dark-haired head. Draco wouldn't have predicted it from Ron, after he'd carried on the most humiliatingly public relationship in Hogwarts with Lavender Brown the previous year. But whatever he had going on with Pansy, it was so obsessively private that—had it not been for the way they looked at each other, as though they'd just detached from the surface of the earth—no one might have known they were involved. Maybe it was a reaction to the twins' teasing.
Draco tried not to remember the night they'd all collided in the side garden, the way he'd felt Hermione's heart beating hard against his fingertips as they'd kissed. The way she'd been safe, the way he'd known he would do anything to keep them together. He dug his fingernails into his palms.
"We've just arrived from the last safehouse," said Luna. "They're looking for you three."
She'd barely spoken the words when Kingsley, McGonagall, Remus, and Tonks materialized out of the forest's gloom. "We've rallied everyone we can expect right away, Potter," said Kingsley. "Now, what's this plan of yours to get us into the castle?"
"Plan, you say?" said Fred, jogging up from behind the others.
"I think that's our plan you're talking about," George added.
"Go on, then," said Tonks.
"Well, we do owe it to Harry," said Fred. "In his last year, he showed us this really top-notch room in the castle that does whatever what you need it to do."
"So," George said, "we ran a few experiments. If I were to, for instance, set loose a load of Engorged centipedes on the lawn when Headmaster Umbridge was taking her evening stroll …"
"And if I were to be inside the Room of Requirement at the time, asking the Room to create a passage to the grounds, which George could use to escape …"
"Would it work?"
"It did," Fred added. "So, we've asked Dobby and Winky to get in there and open up a passage into the Forbidden Forest."
Remus smiled, looking between Fred and George. "Very impressive, you two."
Fred and George beamed and swept a bow in unison. "An honour to have the approval of Mr. Moony himself," said Fred.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "I suppose I should be grateful that you only had the one year to take advantage of this."
"Where's the passage, then?" Draco said sharply.
"You're leaning on it," said George.
Draco turned to regard the tree behind him. It had been marked with a white chalk 'X,' and as Draco studied it more closely, he could see fine cracks in the bark forming the outline of a door.
He splayed a hand on the bark and pushed.
The door in the tree opened into an enormous, vacant hall, suitable to fit hundreds. Just inside stood Dobby, Winky, and Neville Longbottom.
#
Sweat burned Hermione's eyes as she staggered to a stop in front of the Hogwarts front gates. The two winged boars that flanked the gate seemed to burn, reflecting the brilliant sunset.
Bellatrix hissed something to the contingent of Aurors on the other side of the gate, and one set off toward the castle at a run.
As Bellatrix began to pace before the gate, Hermione watched warily, not daring to move in case it drew her attention. Hermione's wrists ached. She didn't know how much time had passed since they'd left Gringotts—two hours? Three?—but the ropes binding her hands had chafed the skin raw.
Hermione had spent the hours anticipating torture and interrogation that hadn't yet come. When Draco, Harry, and Ron had disappeared with the Horcrux, Bellatrix's demeanour had transformed into utmost terror. She had taken Hermione and Narcissa to the Lestrange Manor, where Hermione had been stripped of her beaded bag before being locked in a windowless room. In the time since, Bellatrix had dragged them to half a dozen locations, among them the street outside the Ministry of Magic, a dusty house that smelled like rot, and a field in the middle of nowhere. They had spent the most time in the field, where Bellatrix had paced while the sun began to sink, lips moving soundlessly as though she were preparing excuses to give to Voldemort.
But now Bellatrix seemed to have made up her mind what to do. Soon enough the Auror returned, accompanied by Severus Snape.
Hermione's mouth went dry. She had expected he must be the reason they were here, but she hadn't fully prepared herself for the sight of him. The last time she had seen Snape, he had struck Dumbledore dead in that wind-torn night above Surrey. She could still see his face twisted with loathing as he'd spoken the curse.
Snape lifted a hand to dismiss the guards. As the half-dozen Aurors retreated up the lawn out of hearing distance, he approached the gates. "Welcome, Bellatrix," he said in that soft, sneering voice. "To what do I owe the honour?"
Bellatrix seemed to war with herself to speak. "Snape. I require information of the most delicate, the most …" She paused, then forced out through clenched teeth, "I seek your assistance. It is of the greatest concern to the Dark Lord."
"I see. In that case …" Snape flicked his wand. The enchanted chains on the gates glowed and slid open.
Hermione let out a cry as Bellatrix seized her by the hair and dragged her through the gate. She flung Hermione to her knees at Snape's feet.
Snape looked down at her, exactly as he always had been, his sallow, impassive face framed by greasy black hair. The cold, pitch-black eyes had never betrayed anything other than dislike or contempt. Now they scarcely even seemed to show recognition.
Hermione averted her eyes immediately. She fixed her gaze to the clasp of his cloak instead, mentally reciting the steps toward Occlumency that Draco had repeated so often to Harry. Clear away your thoughts … possess yourself … submerge any fear, doubt, or self-consciousness …
Snape turned his head to Wormtail and Narcissa as they sidled through the gate. At the sight of Draco's mother, Snape's face showed surprise for the first time. "Narcissa. This, I will admit, is a shock. You survived the Order's attack on Malfoy Manor a year ago? If that is the case, where have you been?"
"Do not question her, Snape," Bellatrix said sharply. "My sister has suffered a great betrayal. She allowed me access to her mind. I saw exactly how she was deceived."
The claim caught Hermione's attention. If Bellatrix had used Legilimency on Narcissa, Narcissa must have concealed some truths from Bellatrix. Hadn't Draco's mother suggested giving information to the Order to play both sides? That should have made Bellatrix disavow her forever, yet Bellatrix was standing at her sister's shoulder, defending her.
Hermione dared one look up at Narcissa. She looked as though she might faint. She did not glance down at Hermione.
"Please," Snape said, "enlighten me."
"That whelp of hers has gone over to the Order. He fed her lie upon lie. All that Narcissa tried to do for him, and for the Dark Lord, and she was met with this thanks! As for her fool of a husband …"
Narcissa let out a tiny sound.
"He was never worthy of you," Bellatrix said with powerful disdain, seizing Narcissa by the upper arm. "He may have been loyal at the end, but he was weak. Now you are free of the Malfoy stain. Be grateful, Cissy."
"You mean to say that Lucius is dead?" Snape was considering Narcissa. "And Draco has joined the Order? I would not have expected it of him."
"He has done worse than join the Order, Snape. He was taken in by this scum." Bellatrix thrust a finger toward Hermione. "This Mudblood somehow ensnared him."
"Is that so?" Snape murmured, his cold eyes boring into Hermione again. "I was under the impression that Ms. Granger had all the charm of a wilting house plant."
Hermione's jaw clenched, her body filling with heat. But it was not humiliation. It was a powerful pulse of spite. Did Snape really think his pathetic barbs could have any effect on her anymore? She had spent this year rebuilding the Order from nothing after he had torn it apart. She had survived the hunt of a Ministry bent on stripping her out of Wizarding society. Did he think she was still the girl in fourth year who had burst into tears when he'd looked at her magically-grown buckteeth and said, "I see no difference"?
The moment of hatred offered her clarity. Hermione fixed her eyes on the castle behind Snape. Unknown to him, the elves within were freed and sympathetic to the Order. And the Gryffindors she knew so well were probably dining in the Great Hall at this very moment. Was it so impossible that she might find some way to escape within?
"The Malfoy boy's disgusting habits are nothing to me," Bellatrix said. "What matters is what they have done—what Potter has taken!"
"Indeed? Yet it seems you have valuable collateral. Why not offer Potter his friend in return?"
"You think I have not already done so?" Bellatrix began to stride back and forth across the pass. "I made the same plan, Snape. I Apparated to the street in Godric's Hollow where I know their headquarters to be hidden. I declared that I would kill the girl unless they returned what they stole … but there was no reply! Either the Order have vacated the place, or they have decided her life is a worthy price for this blow."
Bellatrix stopped a foot from Snape. "But you know Potter," she whispered. "You taught him for six years; you penetrated his mind at Dumbledore's request … you must have some idea of how we could lure him into the open. The Mudblood is one bargaining chip, but perhaps we might take his little friends in the school hostage?"
"Hostages at my school?" said Snape, his lip curling. "Do you mean to frighten Hogwarts parents out of the country, Bella?"
"If I must!" Bellatrix's eyes bulged. She dropped her voice to a whisper, although the Aurors were fifty yards out of earshot. "It is not safe to discuss here, Snape. Take us to your office and I will tell you all."
"Very well," said Snape.
Bellatrix flicked her wand. A long rope materialised, connected to the bindings at Hermione's wrists. She tossed the end of the rope carelessly to Wormtail, who gave it an experimental yank, not looking Hermione in the face. He darted sour looks at the other Death Eaters, clearly resentful of being given such a menial task. As Hermione staggered to her feet, she felt a fresh surge of loathing, this time toward Pettigrew. He hadn't deserved Harry's defence of his life in their third year.
Bellatrix cast a Silencing Charm on Hermione, followed by a Disillusionment Charm. Then they started up the path to Hogwarts. Hermione's eyes moved from the front door to the windows of the Great Hall. At this time of evening, the Great Hall would be full for dinner.
Hermione's pulse quickened as they walked through the great front doors. Looking through the threshold to the Great Hall, she saw none other than Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown eating dinner at the end of the Gryffindor table.
She waited. They were coming closer, twenty feet away, now fifteen.
Hermione threw herself against the rope. It burst free of Pettigrew's fumbling hands, and he let out a startled cry. With a burst of hope, she raced toward the door to the Great Hall, screaming Parvati's and Lavender's names, though no sound could be heard. She was close, so close that she could smell the dishes at the end of the nearest table—
"Crucio," said Bellatrix's voice.
Hermione was blasted off her feet. She could not see. She could barely even feel. Her mind compressed into a pounding lump of nerves the size of a fist. Her skin was being shredded, her bones broken, the pain at once fine and deep. Her fingernails scrabbled at the floor of the Entrance Hall, and she thought absurdly of the day nearly seven years ago that she had entered with nervous excitement for the Sorting.
The spell lifted. Hermione tried to lift her head. Parvati and Lavender were right there, speaking to Seamus across the table. They were saying something about Flitwick's exam. It seemed so unreal. Help, she croaked, trying to crawl toward the threshold, but she couldn't move. Help me … The pain was still racing over her like the horrible, scurrying legs of a thousand insects.
"Very careless, Wormtail," said Snape's sibilant voice. "One would almost think you wished Ms. Granger to escape."
"No!" Pettigrew spluttered. "Me? Me? What do I care for a—a Mudblood like that? Anyone can make a mistake, she caught me by surprise …"
"No more accidents, then," said Bellatrix. She pointed her wand at Hermione. "Imperio."
#
Longbottom let out a roar that was returned by the Gryffindors. They piled into the hall and into a hug that nearly knocked Longbottom off his feet. As Draco slipped through after them, Longbottom thrust a finger toward him and let out a choked sound of surprise.
Draco strode past, ignoring Longbottom. He knew he should probably be trying to get on Longbottom's good side, to show him that they were on the same team now, but all he felt was impatience. The sooner their forces had control of Hogwarts, the sooner they could use the mirror, which seemed to weigh a stone in his pocket.
Ten minutes later, the hall was packed with nearly a thousand people, the door sealed behind them. "All right," said Harry to the gathered Order. "Neville, everyone's still at dinner, right?"
"Right," said Neville. "Except—Harry, I don't know where he's gone, but Snape's not there."
Harry swore quietly.
"That will pose a problem," said Kingsley.
"We can't find where he is with the Marauder's Map?" said Ginny.
Ron shook his head. "It's in Hermione's bag."
"Then," said Remus, "I think we should move in groups of four rather than two, in case anyone is to meet Snape on the way."
"Good idea," said Harry with a nod. "Everyone remember where they're going? We've covered everything, haven't we?"
Percy Weasley cleared his throat, reading from a sheet of parchment. "We're to wait in the four common rooms, the staff room, the teachers' offices, the library, and the detention rooms in the dungeons. Filch, the Carrows, and Professor Snape should be Stunned on sight. Younger students will be informed of their evacuation through the Room of Requirement, while older students and teachers will be invited to stay and join the Order's efforts. We aim to have the castle ready for attack within the hour."
"And," said Dobby, bouncing on his toes so that his batlike ears wiggled, "Dobby and Winky has already spoken with the house-elves, Harry Potter, sir. They is prepared to assist in whatever way they can."
"Perfect. Thanks, Dobby. Professor Flitwick—when you're ready."
Tiny Professor Flitwick stood on a plinth near the exit door. As each member of the Order passed beneath, the Charms Professor rapped them on the head, Disillusioning them so completely that when Draco looked down at his hands, he could scarcely discern any substance there.
Silently, they crept into the Hogwarts halls. While the rest of the Order scattered for their posts, Draco waited with Harry and Ron by the windows.
"Ron," said Harry. "I'd better keep the cup in here, just in case." Ron handed him the Horcrux, which he thrust into the mokeskin pouch.
"Come on," said Draco, already striding toward the stairwell, the Elder Wand drawn.
"Where do you think Snape's gone?" Ron whispered as they hurried through the fourth-floor corridors.
"No idea," said Harry, "but if we see him …"
"We run," Draco cut in, not liking the vengeful edge in Harry's voice. "We get to the Chamber. He might not kill you, Potter, but me and Weasley?"
Silence from Harry's general direction, which Draco took as disgruntled assent. They moved faster, out into the Grand Staircase, and hurried onto one of the moving stairways, which glided out into nothingness.
Just as the section of stairway slowed, preparing to attach to a new landing, a dark silhouette turned through the threshold ahead. They all froze. Draco prepared to see black hair and Headmaster's robes.
But it wasn't Snape. It was Crabbe, tall and burly and wiping something red off his hand.
Crabbe, with a glinting Head Boy badge fastened to his robes.
At once, Harry's arm rose to hex him. Crabbe must have seen the motion in the air, and he must have taken to the Carrows' teaching in a way he'd certainly never taken to their other teachers', because he dove out of the way onto another departing stairway and bellowed, "Finite!"
Their Disillusionment charms melted away. Several shocked gasps came from the portraits around them, and Crabbe's jaw dropped. His eyes moved from Harry onto Draco.
"You," Crabbe said, soft-spoken as he always had been. "You're alive."
"Yeah. That's right." Anger twisted in Draco's stomach as he remembered what Crabbe had said at the Manor—that he'd deserved to die. For a mad instant, staring into the face of an old best friend, he wanted to demand whether Crabbe had meant it.
Then Harry and Ron yelled, "Stupefy!"
Crabbe ducked behind the stairway's stone rails. The hexes hit a set of stairs behind him. Chips of stone whizzed off through the Grand Staircase.
"I can't get an angle," said Harry, darting to the very edge of the landing, trying to aim his wand behind the rails.
"Hey, Crabbe," jeered Ron, obviously trying to goad him into showing his face, "who in their right mind would make you Head Boy? Transfigure that pin yourself, did you?"
"Macmillan got a few too many detentions," said Crabbe's deep voice. "But I helped teach him how to act right."
The Gryffindors' faces filled with anger. "Here," Ron said, leaping onto the next section of stairway to arrive. "I'll go after him. You two have to get to the Chamber before he raises the alarm. Go!"
But hardly had Ron's section of stairway taken off when Draco heard Crabbe's slow laughter echoing through the immense vertical hall. In another lifetime, Draco had once done all he could to get those laughs out of him and Goyle. Now the sound made his stomach turn. "What's so funny, Crabbe?" he said sharply.
"Nothing. Just that you're alive. I like that."
For the briefest moment, Draco thought Crabbe was admitting that he'd missed him.
Then Crabbe stood up to reveal that his left sleeve was rolled up. Branded on his forearm was the Dark Mark. "Now you get to see me do everything you couldn't," he said.
Crabbe lowered his finger to the Mark just as Draco snarled, "Stupefy!"
The spell sped through the Grand Staircase and struck Crabbe in the shoulder. He staggered back and slumped over the opposite rail. But the spell had arrived too late. With Crabbe's arm draped over the stone, Draco could see the edge of the skull burned jet-black.
#
Hermione lay very still on the rug in the Headmaster's office, trying not to draw attention to herself.
For now, the others' focus was elsewhere. Narcissa and Wormtail were sitting in the two chairs before the desk, and Bellatrix, pacing behind their seats, had just finished recounting the incident at Gringotts to Snape, who sat in the Headmaster's seat as if it were a throne.
"So, you see why I must flush Potter out," she said, turning her wand in her hands as though she itched to use it again. "The Dark Lord must know that he was not wrong to trust me. I did everything in my power to prevent the theft; I went to the place myself; I took Gringotts in his name—"
Bellatrix broke off. She, Snape, and Wormtail all moved in the same way: they clutched their left forearms.
Hermione didn't dare to breathe, fear plunging down through her. If Voldemort summoned Bellatrix … if she was taken to him …
But whatever feeling had seared through their Dark Marks had not been a summons. "It seems you are in luck, Bella," said Snape quietly, rising to his feet. "Neither the Carrows nor the Crabbe boy would press their Mark for anything less than Potter's appearance. He must be in the castle."
Hermione went very still. She understood at once. Harry, Ron, and Draco must have come to retrieve a Basilisk fang, to destroy the cup … but they would not expect Bellatrix to be here. They would not be prepared.
"Of course," said Snape, "the Dark Lord will also be on his way, now that he knows that Potter has returned."
Bellatrix, whose face had begun to shine with momentary delight, lost every ounce of colour within an instant. She rounded upon Hermione, terror written in every line of her face. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me what Potter was planning, why he has come here. You must know, Mudblood. Tell me what he means to do!"
Hermione's thoughts swarmed together. She knew what was coming. She tried to cling to the Occlumency precepts, but the fear of pain consumed her completely.
"Legilimens!" Bellatrix cried, slashing her wand out. But Hermione, having cast the spell so many times, saw how sloppy Bellatrix's wandwork was. She saw the terror in Bellatrix's bloodless face destroying her concentration. "Legilimens—Legilimens!" Bellatrix screamed, slashing her wand out again and again, but Hermione felt the spells glancing off like sloppy blows.
"Never mind," she snarled, striding toward Hermione. "There are other methods." She seized Hermione by the ankle and dragged her into the centre of the circular room.
"No," Hermione cried out, "no, please! Please, I don't know! I have no idea why Harry's here!"
She threw a wild glance to the others. Wormtail was now rigid in his seat, staring at the Headmaster's desk as though waiting to be disciplined. Snape and Narcissa were both looking down at her, motionless.
"Please," Hermione whispered.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix snarled.
It went on and on. Hermione sobbed out that she didn't know why Harry had come, trying to form any thought, any coherent lie that might make it stop, make it end—she just wanted it to end …
"Tell me why!" Bellatrix screamed, kneeling by Hermione and working her wand into the crook of Hermione's jaw. "Tell me why you little wretches stole the Cup of the Covenant!"
In the moment between curses, a snippet of text that she'd read floated back to Hermione … the Revels of Goodwill …
"Because," she sobbed, "Harry wanted t-to use it to bind people to the Order, the way Y-You-Know-Who did to the Death E-Eaters. That's why, please … that's why …"
The pressure of Bellatrix's wandtip lessened. Hermione cracked her streaming eyes open. "I see," Bellatrix said, gazing into Hermione's face. "Then he will have gone to Gryffindor Tower, to find those who are loyal to him."
New fear coursed through Hermione as Bellatrix rose to her feet. What had she done? Draco, Harry, and Ron might be able to reach the Chamber of Secrets, now—but what if Parvati, Lavender, Neville, Seamus, and the rest of Gryffindor House were thrown into Bellatrix's path?
"No," she croaked, reaching for Bellatrix. "It isn't … that's not …"
She didn't even know what she was trying to say. Bellatrix looked down at her with a curl to her lip. The wildness of mere seconds ago had receded into her. She was all arrogance again, all pride. "You have been most useful." She turned to Snape. "I will go to meet Potter at the tower. I suggest you prepare for the Dark Lord's arrival."
She swept out of his office without another word. Wormtail muttered something about "I should help …" and scurried after her, closing the door behind himself.
There was a long silence. Hermione lay slumped, unmoving.
The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaching her. Then Snape crouched at her side, looking down into her eyes.
No, Hermione thought with dread. No … would Snape use Legilimency on her now, to gain an advantage over Bellatrix? She must not think about the Chamber—she must not—and yet even as she tried to suppress the thought, an image of the girls' bathroom on the second floor passed across her mind's eye, as clear as a photograph.
There was no change in Snape's face. Yet she was sure he had seen it. Fear struck her in the gut as he rose to his feet.
"Bella is right," he said to Narcissa. "I will go to the gates to meet the Dark Lord. I trust you will take care of the girl. She is no threat in this condition."
Narcissa inclined her head.
With that, he left the office.
Hurry, Hermione thought desperately, thinking of Draco, Harry, and Ron, travelling down into the heart of the castle. Hurry, before Snape welcomes Voldemort and ambushes you there …
Long minutes had passed before Hermione found the strength to sit up. Her whole body tremored as she did so; she could see muscles jerking in her forearms. She gritted her teeth and straightened her back, though her head spun.
Finally, breathing hard, she leaned against the wall—and realised Narcissa was watching her.
Hermione looked back, not caring, every drop of energy drained of her. For minutes more, she watched as Narcissa continued to study her: her hair, mussed from where it had been rubbed upon the floor; her sweaty face; her robes, pulled askew.
Then Narcissa rose to her feet. When she walked, she moved like water over a flat surface, impossibly smooth.
One thought rose to the surface of Hermione's mind. It circulated over and over: She lied to Bellatrix.
It could mean any number of things. It could mean shame or self-preservation. It could mean hatred of Bellatrix or fear of the Dark Lord.
But it could also mean that she had more to shield than anyone knew.
Narcissa stopped feet away. "I know he is here," she said quietly, "in the castle. If Draco went with Potter to Diagon Alley, he will have come here, too. I believe you know where they are."
Thud. Thud. Each beat of Hermione's heart was painful. Yet if Narcissa was planning on hurting her for the information, surely she would have voiced this doubt when Snape and Bellatrix were still in the room?
It didn't keep her from flinching as Narcissa crouched in front of Hermione and lifted her wand.
"Rennervate," Narcissa whispered.
Hermione felt warm energy flow through her body, soothing her jittery muscles, clearing her mind. Long fingers wrapped around her elbow, and Narcissa stood, taking Hermione with her. Cramps laddered through Hermione's legs, but she stabilised herself against the wall and rose to her full height.
"You care for my son." Narcissa's face was rigid. "I will stand by him to the end. I have lost my sister. I have lost my husband. I will not lose Draco, too." She let go Hermione's elbow. "Take it," Narcissa said in a harsh whisper, pressing the wand into Hermione's hand. "Take it and tell me where he is."
It was not until then, her fingers curling around the handle of the wand, that Hermione really dared to hope.
"Come with me," she rasped. She made for the door, testing the limits of the energy Narcissa had given her. She still felt wobbly, but she could move quickly enough. "They've gone to the Chamber of Secrets. If we hurry, we can—"
She opened the door and sucked in a sharp gasp as a Disarming Charm struck her. Wormtail was standing in the threshold, triumph in his watery eyes. He snatched the wand from the air and said, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Hermione's hands snapped to her sides. She teetered backward. The last thing she heard before she hit the ground was the slam of the door and the click of the lock.
#
The chains slithered away from the Hogwarts gates as the last light left the grounds.
In the simmering dusk, Lord Voldemort stepped up the path. He paused as Snape bowed beside him.
"I have business on the grounds, Snape," he murmured. "Make certain that I am undisturbed."
"Yes, my Lord. It will be done." Snape hesitated, eyeing the snake who was slithering over the path behind Voldemort. A web of enchantments glittered over the snake's immense body; they reflected in Snape's dark eyes. "Perhaps, while you attend to your business, I might bring Nagini up to the castle? We can feed her, groom her …"
"No," said Voldemort sharply. "Nagini stays with me."
"Of course. … Then I ask your leave," said Snape, bowing once more. "Potter has found a way into the castle, but the boy knows Hogwarts well. I will ensure he does not wriggle away."
"Yes," said Voldemort, already moving toward the lake, his eyes fixed on the distant tomb. "Find him, Snape … and bring him to me."
#
"Just—a little—farther," Harry panted.
Draco, running after him through the dark, dripping passageway, flinched as the heel of his foot broke through the skull of a small animal. Somewhere he could hear the skittering noise of other creatures down in the Chamber.
They rounded another bend and broke out of their run. Before them was a wall engraved with two entwined serpents. Emeralds the size of grapes were set into the sheer face, forming their eyes. As Harry and Draco lifted their wands, the eyes glinted in the shifting light.
A soft hiss came from Harry's mouth. Draco stood back, mouth dry, as the door to the Chamber of Secrets cracked open and slid away.
For the first time since they had left Gringotts, thoughts of Hermione and his mother were jolted completely out of Draco's head. He stepped into the Chamber, his eyes riveted on the goliath skeleton of the Basilisk that gleamed beneath the statue of Salazar Slytherin.
The sockets that had once held the snake's deadly eyes gaped, immense pockets of shadow that seemed to suck away the light that stretched from their wandtips. Its fangs curved down from its bleached white skull. As he and Harry stopped in front of it, Draco could see that the longest would have stretched from his elbow to his fingertip with inches left over.
"If we use Diffindo," said Draco, eyeing the spots where the fangs connected to the skull, "the venom might drip onto us."
"Yeah. I think it's safest to snap the whole thing off. Here." Harry handed Draco the Horcrux, reached up to the serpent's jaw, and took hold of one of the smaller fangs. He worked it back and forth a few times before it snapped free. "Hang on, I'm going to take a few more. We could need one for the snake, too."
Draco looked down at the golden cup in his hand with the elegant H engraved on its side. He could feel the living energy of the Horcrux, but it was not cool and seductive like the delicate diadem; it was not pleasurable and luxurious like the heavy locket. The cup was warm and welcoming. A caring friend.
He gripped it at its neck as Harry turned from the Basilisk's skeleton, extending one of the fangs carefully toward Draco. "You hold it," he said. "I'll—"
"Expelliarmus!"
The sound of someone else's voice made Draco feel a cold shock all over his body. Had the Carrows followed them here? Snape? He had no time to react before both cup and wand were whisked out of his hands. Harry let out a yell and grabbed for his own wand, but to no avail.
They whirled around, and Draco saw, lurking in the gloom, a thin, balding man with wand outstretched in his silvery hand. The items he had summoned hovered in the air around him before settling slowly downward: the golden cup into his left hand, their wands into his pocket, the Basilisk fangs scattered on the floor around him.
"Wormtail?" Draco and Harry said together.
"That's right." Wormtail took a step out of the shadows, and they could see that his small, watery eyes were glittering with excitement. "I've done it … and no one else can take credit, no one else can say I didn't …"
Yet Draco saw his wand hand wavering. He was perhaps ten steps from them, which seemed to be too close for his comfort, and his eyes kept straying to Harry's face.
"Wormtail," said Draco, stalking toward him, "you have no idea what you're—"
"Don't come any closer!" Wormtail's voice rose high, his wand rising again. From the panic on his face, he might have been facing down an armed battalion, not a teenager without a wand. "I'm warning you! I'll curse you! I'll—"
"Yeah? And then what?" Draco said, although he did stop. "Do you even know what you're holding?"
Wormtail glanced down into the crook of his arm.
"It's the Cup of the Covenant, boy," he said resentfully. "Of course I—"
"It's more than that, Peter," said Harry, approaching to stand at Draco's shoulder. His voice was much more level than Draco's had been, although Draco could hear the dislike in his tone. "You've gotten in the middle of something really dangerous. Something Voldemort would kill you for even knowing."
Pettigrew blanched. Draco couldn't tell whether it was at the threat or at the sound of the name.
"And Draco's right," Harry went on. "What will you do next? If you Stun us, you'll have to bring Voldemort here to find us, or you'll have to get us out of the castle. The only problem is, there are a thousand members of the Order spreading through Hogwarts right now. That's why we're here. You'll have to get past all of them to stand a chance."
Pettigrew glanced upward, swallowing, the last hint of excitement turning to fear. "Then—then …" Pettigrew stammered.
"I'll tell you what you can do instead," said Harry. "You can stay here in the Chamber and wait out the battle. No one can get inside this place; only I can open the door. You give us our wands and that cup, and you can come out in a day or so when it's all over. If the Death Eaters have won, they'll assume you fought us and survived. If we've won, I'll tell the Order you helped us. Either way, you'll be safe." He couldn't keep the disgust from his voice now. "That's all you want, isn't it?"
Pettigrew's lips quivered.
"But … but I've done it," he said in his wheezy voice, more to himself than to them. His wand hand, shining brilliantly silver in the gloom, shook. "What they all wanted to do … Snape, Bellatrix …"
Draco felt his heart plummet. "Bellatrix. Is she here? Is she in Hogwarts?"
Pettigrew hesitated, then jerked his head in a little nod.
Draco exchanged a look of alarm with Harry. "Does she have a girl with her?" Draco demanded. "Hermione Granger? And my mother, is she here, too?"
"Yes, yes, they're all here! Your mother, the girl, they're locked in the Headmaster's office, Bellatrix brought us all here …"
Draco was ready to run out of the Chamber right then and there, but he forced himself to stare into Wormtail's face, because there was something dreadfully familiar about this moment. He had stood on the other end of the wand, facing down a wandless Dumbledore—offered mercy by a wandless Dumbledore.
"Look," said Draco, voice low and controlled, "you gave the Dark Lord back his body."
A hint of pride entered the man's expression. "Yes. I did."
"But they still treat you this way."
The pride was snuffed out.
"Take it from me, all right? It never gets better than this. No matter what you do. No matter who you are." Draco looked over at Harry. "Take Potter's deal, Wormtail. It's the best chance you've got."
Harry took one more step toward him. "You owe me, Wormtail. You owe my parents."
Pettigrew looked up at them, so small and frail, and lowered his wand.
It happened before they could speak another word. Pettigrew's dazzling silver hand let go of his wand—then turned on its owner. Pettigrew let out a cry, trying to beat the hand away with the cup, but the hand slammed backward into Pettigrew's chest, knocking him to the ground. Harry and Draco moved for him, but the silver hand seized one of the Basilisk fangs from the ground. They froze mid-step, wondering whether the hand would attack them with the deadly fangs, whether they should dive for cover.
Instead, the luminous fingers crushed the fang into the cup in Pettigrew's other hand. Fine powder mixed with clear venom, filling the tiny cup to the brim.
Pettigrew let out a howl of fear and realisation. He moved as if to fling the Horcrux away, but too late—the silvery hand had taken hold of the cup. Pettigrew seized another fang from the ground and stabbed it into the cup, into the shining hand, making the Cup of the Covenant twist and smoke, deforming and drooping, but the silver hand was already pushing the golden relic between his lips—pouring the deadly poison between his clenched teeth.
Draco and Harry stared, riveted and horrified, unable to look away. But as Pettigrew's convulsions grew weaker, the deadly poison claiming him, Draco's eyes fixed on the handle of the Elder Wand protruding from his pocket.
He tasted bitter disgust as he crouched at Pettigrew's side and drew the Elder Wand from his pocket, reclaiming it. But once crouched there, Draco could not stand. He could not tear his eyes from the way Pettigrew's face spasmed and his burned mouth twitched—the way he finally went still, only then set free from of the Dark Lord's service.
The dazzling silver hand faded, then dissipated altogether, leaving only the stump behind. The twisted remains of the Horcrux clattered to the floor of the Chamber of Secrets.
Draco looked up at Harry, whose face was filled with pity and revulsion. Draco held the holly wand out to him, which Harry took.
They heard a scraping sound near the head of the Chamber. This time, they reacted instantly. They whirled, wands raised—and saw Severus Snape standing in the entrance.
"Wait!" said Snape. The command rang around the Chamber.
They didn't. "Impedimenta!" yelled Harry, at the same instant that Draco said,
"Incarcerous!"
Snape deflected the spells with an impatient swipe of his wand and strode forward, his teeth bared. He waved his wand, and for an instant there was a burst of light from his wandtip—a brilliant, indistinct shape beginning to coalesce into something—
"STUPEFY!"
Harry's spell shot through the forming magic and struck Snape in the chest. Draco broke into a run down the length of the Chamber, Harry at his side. They both stopped above Snape, staring down with disbelief at his unconscious body.
"What was he playing at?" Harry murmured.
"I don't know," said Draco, eyes narrowed. They both knew that Snape should have been able to outduel them with hardly any effort.
Draco shook the question. Hermione and his mother were in the castle. "I'm going to his office. Now."
"We'll bring him." Harry nudged Snape's body with his toe. "We can keep him locked up there."
Draco nodded. With a flick of the wand, Snape was bound; with another, he rose up into levitation, his head lolling.
"And … what about …" Draco cast a look back at the huddled form in the shadow of Slytherin's statue.
"Leave him," Harry muttered. "We can come back for his body."
It was as they were emerging back into the girls' bathroom that Harry leaned hard against one of the sinks. He did not make a sound of pain, although Draco knew at once that he was entering Voldemort's mind. His eyes rolled beneath his closed lids as though in deep sleep.
A minute later his eyes came open.
"He's opened Dumbledore's tomb," said Harry. "He's guessed we have the Elder Wand."
Draco swallowed. "So he's called them."
"The Death Eaters, the Ministry. All of them. They're coming."
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thank you for reading! reviews always make my day :)
-sw