10 days ago

"I'm not afraid of my enemy's weapon," Joey had said softly as she held a gun to her partner's head.

This was a lie. The moment Harry and Draco left Joey's room aboard the Blue Mercy, she sat down hard on the bed, wringing her hands.

The gun had been given on a velvety Athenian night by one of her mentors, whose name she had already forgotten. The weapon itself had drawn most of Joey's attention, with silvery craftsmanship, a wood-and-leather handle, six chambers - six chances to kill.

Joey hadn't loaded it before the ship, not expecting to use it. But as soon as Draco had affiliated himself to the Death Eaters - terrorists, murderers - Joey's mind had washed in red. All she could think of were the gunshots over her own head, the Muggle soldiers that kicked down the door of her hut and splattered blood on its walls. She had no pity for anyone like them. The gun wasn't loaded, but Draco didn't know that, and she used his fear against him.

But then, Joey had taken the time to listen to Draco's story. She realized, now, her awful mistake, that despite Draco's past wrongs, she had no right to hold his life in the balance. Still, Joey had no intention of letting the cold steel go, either in the barrel of the gun or in her own heart. So, she loaded its chambers and promised herself to pull it only to protect someone. No more threats, no more force. Joey had nearly become her worst enemy tonight.

She would rather die than let that happen.

• • •

Harry tripping and cutting his head in the dark was only one item on Joey's very long list of problems she could have solved with a wand. She heard him slip, a loud crack, then him inhaling through gritted teeth.

"Harry?" Joey groped around in the darkness, finally finding enough purchase on his uniform to pull him to his feet. "Are you…" Okay died in her throat as she felt blood seep onto her sleeves. "Oh, shit."

"'M fine," Harry mumbled, sounding more stunned than hurt. "Let's go a little slower."

The narrow gap in the cliff had turned out to be the entrance to a broad stone passage carved by nature. Joey heard a stream rushing by, but the cave itself was nearly pitch-black, and she kept one hand on the right wall, carefully logging the mercifully few turns they came across.

After a few more minutes of Harry clinging to Joey, his breathing growing more and more labored, she squeezed his arm and stilled.

"We're far enough now," She soothed and felt around; a ledge of slippery rock stuck out just enough for them to sit.

Joey strained her ears, searching for stray footsteps or the sizzle of magic, but no enemy wizards had followed. Instead, there was only the steady drip of rainfall, the occasional rumble of thunder, the burbling of the stream.

Then, sniffling, choked breath. It took Joey a minute to realize Harry was crying.

The hopelessness of their situation suddenly seized Joey, and she clenched her fists, tears stinging her eyes. They'd been so close to declaring their terribly drawn-out mission finished, to returning to safety and home.

This thought gave Joey pause. Even after residing in Cambridge for six months, she'd never really considered it home. Home was the sisterhood. Home was she and her best friend sharing muffins on a cold New York morning. But now she had Draco and his careful brilliance, Harry and his protectiveness, their twin shares of stubborn loyalty.

"Don't apologize. We're your teammates; we're honor-bound to stay. And… Well, you're our friend, too."

Joey wished she could see Harry in the darkness, to look him in the eyes when she said, "We'll be all right." Perhaps then it would sound less like a lie.

Harry made a noncommittal noise. A beat of silence. Then, a dim glow appeared, and Joey could see it came from Harry's hands. The light grew, unfurling into emerald-green flames. An expression of shock crossed Harry's face.

"So much magic," He muttered, and when he pointed it out, Joey could feel it. The caves had a feeling of being untouched, untapped, the rock humming silently with power - no wonder the Following were stationed so closely.

Tear tracks glistened in the firelight, and it wasn't long before new ones traced Harry's cheeks. He choked out a sob, closing his hands and extinguishing the fire.

"What are they doing to him?" He whispered, anguish cracking his voice.

Joey had no wish to answer that question. She could only imagine and doing so scared her. "We'll help him," Joey said, though her conviction faltered. She wanted badly to pull off an epic rescue with wands blazing. "We'll save Draco, I promise you."

"But how?" Harry winced again, and though Joey couldn't see him, she could imagine him pressing his sleeve to his head, blood darkening the gray fabric. "I…" Harry mumbled, seemingly to himself, "I'm so tired."

The truth of it resonated through the cave, pooling in Joey's chest. Tears of helplessness and exhaustion poured down her face. Joey knew she'd been in situations like this before - in Athens, when she and Latifah had nearly met their match, in Cairo, when she was cursed by a sand demon. In Nigeria, when Joey tore through the forest, pure will carrying her from the range of bullets.

"Me, too." Joey hesitated, then reached out, her hand finding Harry's. She heard his breath catch in surprise, but his fingers curled around hers. They were cold.

Don't give up yet. Joey had been traveling with Harry and Draco for scarcely a month, but she could tell how much they depended on each other; their lives were linked. Joey knew such a connection wasn't possible, but she had the eerie feeling that if one of the couple died, the other would go with them. Joey almost wished she could feel that way about someone. Perhaps the strength between loved ones was merely disguised as weakness.

"We'll think of something," She muttered, but right now, her mind was numb, empty. She had no ideas, and based on Harry's silence, he didn't, either.

There was only one thing to do.

Joey's other hand pressed her sternum, finding the shape of the cross that hung from her neck. She'd never much believed in any god, but when Latifah had given it to her, with eyes shining bright with faith and a whisper of salvation, Joey had wanted to. She wished so badly for any kind of reassurance, even if it was one she couldn't see.

Joey fell willingly from the ledge, kneeling upon the uneven ground. Then, one hand in Harry's, the other clenched near her chest, she whispered, "Please." She felt a little stupid, but she shut her eyes tight, reaching her consciousness skyward, begging for any sort of help. "Please. Help us save him."

Behind her, Harry shifted. "What are you doing?"

"Something better than nothing." Joey waited for a few long minutes, but the drip-accompanied quiet yielded no answers. She sighed, hand sliding down her chest.

And her fingers hit the shape of a vial.

Joey's eyes flew open. "Harry." The name shook with hope.

"What?"

"The teleportation potion."

Any hint of excitement in Harry's voice leached away. "Oh. I don't think that will…" Then it came surging back, and Joey heard the rustling of cloth as he stood, letting go of her hand. "But it could! It could work. But hold on…" Pacing footsteps echoed through the cave, and Joey smiled slightly despite their grim situation. If anything, she'd gotten Harry to start thinking. "Couldn't we just Apparate out of here?"

Joey held out her hands, feeling the darkness. The cold magical barrier that had surrounded them in the forest seemed to have gone. "I think so. But we don't know what's out there. We don't know where we are, and we can't Apparate across national borders."

"We just need to get to Draco," Harry said fiercely.

"We need help," Joey told him firmly. "There's no way we can fight that many on our own."

"Can't we?" Harry said recklessly.

"You're injured. Sit down," Joey ordered, and to her surprise, she heard Harry do just that, not without a huff of impatience.

Joey felt for the chain of the potion and lifted it out of her shirt. "This isn't registered with any Apparation offices," She said softly. "If it works, this could take me all the way to Cambridge."

The pause was heavy with possibility. If it works. If it worked, Joey and Harry could theoretically have the entire Auror force at their disposal. If they were willing to fight against enemies they'd never heard of to save one wizard, and if they could get permission to teleport to Thailand on such short notice. And if it didn't work… Joey didn't think she'd enjoy having half of her body in a damp cave and the other at the Academy an ocean away.

"The day before we left," Harry began, "Draco said he was really close to a breakthrough on the potion. When Draco says 'breakthroughs,' he usually means that the potion isn't as exact as possible. He's quite the perfectionist."

"Potioning is exact," Joey pointed out.

"I don't think he would have brought it if he didn't think it was useful," Harry countered. "That's not like him."

Joey could only take Harry's word on that; after all, she hadn't known Draco for over ten years. "Are you willing to take it, then?"

"Yes," Harry said automatically. "But I think…I need to stay here. I need to go out there and help how I can."

"You're injured," Joey reminded again.

"We're down to wandless magic," Harry pressed. "Draco and I…together, we can do things others can't." His tone was delicate, trying to be modest, but Joey knew the truth. She was speaking to the Chosen One, for Christ's sake, who had figured out two-way mind-reading with his lover, who may or may not have been a Dark magic amateur.

"Fine."

"You'll take the potion," Harry said, with an air of ominous finality. "If you think it's safe. It's your call."

"I do not think it's safe," Joey decided. "Have we got any other ideas?"

The dripping had increased. It must have started raining outside.

"No." Joey answered her own question with a dour mutter and gripped the vial. One swallow, a focus on the destination, presumably, then…what? Run screaming through the halls of Cambridge Academy like some sort of Paul Revere?

"The British are coming! The British are coming!" They'd better be, Joey thought and stifled a delirious giggle.

"Find Antigone," Harry instructed, referring to their division head. "She can get people mobilized fast. I'll give you twenty minutes. I don't want to risk staying hidden for any longer." Though he sounded level-headed, Harry couldn't quite mask the tremble in his voice. He was worried for Draco, and rightly so. Joey shuddered to think of what would happen if the Following hadn't warded off the dementors in time.

"Okay." Joey uncorked the potion, steadying her breath, thinking of the courtyard at Cambridge Academy.

"Joey," Harry blurted, then hesitated. Joey wished she could read his expression. "Never mind. I'll ask you later."

When we've gotten out of this mess. When we're home. Joey didn't need to mind-read to know that was what Harry meant.

Joey felt Harry's hand on her shoulder, a brief but reassuring touch. "Good luck, Clarke."

"Ditto."

The temperate breeze, the worn cobblestones, the ancient arch of the portal. Joey held them in her mind and downed the potion in one nervous, full swallow.