A/N: ::big grin:: I would
like to thank The Great Hermione Fan, Landry Anne, KNA, for their spiffy
reviews! You get a cookie! ::gives them a cookie:: Follow me all to…
Part 5: In the House of
Voldemort
Draco stood
in front of the mirror, smoothing his dark green velvet dress robes. He scowled at the mirror, trying to avoid
going down to the private dinning hall for dinner. Dreselda, Dreselda Coeurnoire, I'm going to have to marry Dreselda
Coeurnoire. Damn it. He heard his father's heavy tread coming up the stone
stairs and quickly finished getting ready.
"Come, son.
Your bride-to-be is waiting for you."
Draco
shuddered inwardly. "Yes, Father."
"Where is the
Rod, Draco?" asked Lucius severely.
"Over on the
table, why?"
"You should
wear it to dinner. It's mark of your status, and one of the reasons Vincent
Coeurnoire was so eager to give his daughter to you."
"Of course,
Father." Said Draco, attaching the Rod to his belt. Blasted thing, more trouble than it's worth.
He and Lucius
walked through the stone corridors in silence up to the dark wood doors of the
private dinning hall. Through the doors they went, into a dimly lit room where
four people were seated around a medium-sized table. One was his mother, two he
presumed were Dreselda's parents, and the fourth was,
"Draco, may I
present to you Dreselda Coeurnoire." Said his mother rising from the table and
leading a young woman with her.
If any woman
ever deserved to be referred to as "ice queen" it was she. Her face was set in
cold, stern features: proud cheekbones, a thin, delicate nose that was perfect
for looking down at people, and ice-blue eyes that seemed to convey that she
found everything in the world lacking to her standards. She managed to make a
thin, cruel smile and sweep into a perfect curtsy, murmuring, "I am glad to
finally meet the man that everyone talks about." in a cool voice.
Draco, trying
not to grimace, bowed stiffly, and replied, "I'm sure the pleasure's all mine."
Not!
He was the
introduced to Dreselda's parents, Vincent and Nicea, and the six sat down to
eat fancy, unsatisfying food, and make polite conversation. This is probably what the rest of my life
will be like. Fan-bloody-tastic.
* * *
"I'm nervous,
oh I'm nervous, why am I so nervous?" mumbled Hermione her voice gradually
scaling up in pitch.
"Calm down,
you're making me nervous." said Ron with a small grin.
"But what if
it doesn't work? What if we get caught?"
"Well," said
Harry, "I guess we better hope that Voldemort is a James Bond type of villain,
leave the heroes en route to death without making sure that they actually get
killed."
Ron and Fae
gave him odd looks. "Muggle stuff," he explained.
They were in
the Library, engaged in various activities. Ron was absentmindedly inspecting his
wand for and chips, scratches, or other flaws. Fae was searching through some
of the older-looking books, trying to find any information about the Rod,
Hermione alternately helping her and pacing around the room while wringing her
hands and mumbling things. Harry was staring up at the ceiling with his hands
behind his head, trying to keep his mind clear of thoughts such as, "This will
never work," and "we'll never get out of this alive."
Dumbledore
entered the room. "It is time. Come, I'll take you to Hogsmede." He then walked
out of the room, the four of them following him.
At the great
front doors of the castle, they got into slightly larger versions of those
musty carriages that used to take them to and from the train station when they
were students. Dumbledore looked more serious than Harry had even seen him. The
twinkle in his eye was still there, but it looked more stern and purposeful.
This only served to make Harry more apprehensive.
At Hogsmede
they went down into the cellar of Honeyduke's, (where their bodies would be
kept while they were Projecting.) Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Fae, sat down together in a circle. Closing
their eyes, they called up two mental pictures. One was of those warm, golden lights
that shone like miniature suns. The other was of the dungeon to which they were
headed. As they concentrated, the image of the lights super-imposed itself onto
the image of the dungeon, and they felt that familiar rippling sensation, as
well as a new sensation: one of being blown in a breeze, like a leaf or a seed.
The last thing they heard was Dumbledore's voice wishing them good luck.
It felt
darker, colder, and ominous. They opened their eyes and found themselves in the
very dungeon that they had imagined. They were not alone.
"About time
you got here," muttered their old Potions master, "I've been waiting half the
night." He might have been, without question, on their side, but he was still
the same, old, sour Snape.
"Well we're
here now," said Ron. Looking like he was fighting back a glare.
Snape glanced
around at the new arrivals. "Who's she?" he said, pointing an accusing finger
at Fae.
"My name, dear sir, is Fae. I was sent here to
help you get the Rod back," she said with a half-annoyed, half-amused look.
"Sent? By
whom?"
"By Niamh,
Queen of the Unicorns. I assume her word and judgement are trustworthy to you,"
she added pointedly.
"Yes, they
are. Now, I've figured out who is in possession of the Rod."
"Who?" they
all asked at once.
"Draco
Malfoy."
"Figures,"
muttered Ron, slamming a fist into his hand.
"Who is Draco
Malfoy?" whispered Fae to Harry.
"An evil git
we used to go to school with," he replied.
"How was he
evil?" she asked.
"He was a
magical purist, and his family's full of Dark wizards. Not to mention his dad
is one of Voldemort's closest supporters."
"Oh. This is not
good," she replied.
"Tell me
about it," said Harry.
"As much as I would love to stand here while you two whisper, I think we ought to be looking for that Rod. I suggest we try Draco's room since he is at dinner right now."
"Of course,
sir," said Fae with a forced smile. "Is he always like this?" she whispered to
Harry
"He's usually
worse," he replied with a half-grin.
They found
their way to Malfoy's rooms with only a small amount of difficulty in the form
of two guards who Snape just walked past, and the other four clarified
themselves while following him. However, the Rod was nowhere to be found.
"Great!" said
Ron. "Now what?"
Hermione
paused, thinking. "Malfoy's probably not going to let the Rod out of his sight.
I think we'll need to Project back and then Apparate here. Professor, you can
find him and tell him that you need to talk with him about something. We can
sneak up behind him, wearing the Invisibility cloak and steal it from him."
Snape
scowled. "I can think of at least a hundred things that could go wrong with
that plan, but as it's our only hope, we'd better try it."
"Alright,"
said Fae, "now where's some water?"
"What? What
do you need water for?" asked Snape.
"To Project
back, of course," she replied.
"Hey there's
a pitcher over here-Hey! I can see the lights in it!"
"But of
course," said Fae. "Come on, let's gather around it."
They did, and
they all saw the points of silver and blue light dancing in the water, except
of course for Snape.
"Meet us back
in the dungeon, and we should be there fairly soon," said Hermione.
Snape nodded,
turned and walked out of the room.
"Ready?"
asked Harry. The others nodded. "Let's go."
The focused
on the lights and felt the pulling sensation of returning to their bodies, only
stronger since they were being pulled over a larger distance. They opened their
eyes and found themselves in the cellar of Honeyduke's once more. Hedwig was
perched on the stair rail.
"Hedwig!
Thank goodness you're here! I need you to send a message to Dumbledore." He
found a scrap piece of parchment on the basement floor, and Hermione lent him a
quill, always having one in her pocket "just in case." He quickly scribbled
Professor-Malfoy
has the Rod, we're Apparating back to Voldemort's castle to try and steal it
from him. –Harry
He then tied the note to Hedwig's leg and she flew up the stairs and out of sight.
"Time to Apparate," he said,
taking the Invisibility cloak from behind the boxes, where he had hidden it
that morning. They got under it, but all four of them couldn't fit without
being seen.
"Damn it! What are we going to
do now?" said Ron irritably.
"Well, that's easy," replied
Fae. "You three get under the cloak and I'll go visible. Don't look at me like
that, Hermione! No one will recognize me as one of the good guys, they'll
probably just think I'm a servant or something."
"I still don't think it's a good
idea, but at least it's an idea," said Hermione resignedly.
They Apprarted into the same
dungeon, just as Snape was walking through the barred door. He looked around
for the other three.
"We're here," said Harry from
under the invisibility cloak.
"Follow me, I'll take you to
where Draco is dining tonight."
They walked up several flights
of stairs, and down several passageways to a large, empty dining room with a
porter standing outside. The crumpled napkins, crumbs, and pushed back chairs
showed that it had just recently been vacated.
"I'm looking for Draco Malfoy,"
Snape told the porter. "I was told that he was dining here tonight," he added
pointedly.
"Young Master Malfoy has just
left. He is currently escorting Miss Coeurnoire back to her rooms."
"And where might Miss
Coeurnoire's rooms be?" asked Snape.
"In the East Wing," Snape
started to open his mouth but the porter continued, "and no, I can't give you a
better answer than that. My domain is here, in the Dining Halls, I never go to
the East Wing. Now, I have several rooms to tidy and I must bid you goodnight."
With that he trounced into the room and slammed the door in their faces.
"Cheerful bloke ain't he?" said
Ron disparagingly.
"Bet he wouldn't talk to me like
that if he knew some of the Potions I could give him," muttered Snape bitterly.
"So," said Harry, "Can you take
us to this East Wing?"
"Unfortunately, no. Voldemort is
a big fan of keeping people in their places. So I've never been there either,
and I would probably attract suspicion if I went."
"So how are we going to get
there?" asked Ron.
"Just go east, you'll run into
it eventually."
"You call those directions?"
said Ron irritably.
"Well it's the best you're going
to get, so take it or leave it," Snape replied with a glare in Ron's general
direction. "Someone over there will be able to help you find Coeurnoire's
rooms."
"This ought to be exciting." Ron
muttered. "Well, let's get on with it."
"I'll do that Compass spell,"
said Harry. "Point me. Let's see, east would be, to our left."
"Goodbye, Professor. It
was…interesting meeting you," said Fae.
Snape arched an eyebrow. "The
same to you."
The four headed to their left
and Snape headed to the right. After getting turned around, lost, and just
generally confused, they finally reached the East Wing. They found a footman
sitting in a chair in the hallway. Fae walked up to him.
"Excuse me, I seem to have
gotten lost. Could you direct me to miss Coeurnoire's rooms?"
The porter stared at her for a
moment, and Fae was worried that he was going to start raving about how this
was the North-East Wing, not the East Wing, and how was he
supposed to know his way around the East Wing since he'd never been there; but
he replied, "Down that hall, turn left, the door in the right just before the Hallway
takes a right-hand turn."
"Thank you," said Fae, heading
in that direction, hoping the others were following her.
* * *
Draco
walked throughout the rabbit warren of the East Wing, arm-in-arm with Dreselda.
She had a death-grip on it, and he was very tempted to try and chew it off, if
for no other reason, to escape her vapid conversation, and constantly hearing
phrases such as "Now when we are married," "Our children will," and "Doesn't
that sound simply marvelous, my Draco." I'm not "your Draco." I would
rather stand in the middle or Diagon Alley in magenta robes, and make-up, and
sing "I Feel Pretty" while doing ballet than be "your Draco." At least
I've almost got her to her room. But of course she'll probably invite me in.
he shuddered.
They turned the corner to her
hallway and-
"Ow!" cried Dreselda.
"Ow!" cried another girl who ran
into her. The girl fell over onto the floor.
"Stupid wench!" cried Dreselda,
kicking the girl, "How dare you plow into me, you clumsy servant!" she
tried to kick her again, but the girl rolled out of her way, and got to her
feet. Draco thought he saw a brief flash of anger pass through the girl's eyes.
And what nice eyes they are. He thought, looking at her. She was, he
thought, an extremely beautiful girl. And, she doesn't make my body temperature
drop just looking at her. Damn it! Why can't she be Dreselda?
"I'm sorry, Mistress," the girl said, curtsying. "It won't happen again." Draco thought her heard her gasp and saw her eyes fixate on the Rod. She looked at him. "Would you be Draco Malfoy?" she asked
"Of course he Draco
Malfoy, you pitiful idiot! He's my little Draco." She said Grabbing he arm and
batting her eyelashes at him.
I think I'm gonna be sick. "Yes,
I'm Draco Malfoy, why?"
"I, uh," she hesitated, and it
seemed to Draco like she was doing some fast thinking, "I have a message for
you from…your father." She glanced at Dreselda, "He…said it was for your ears
only."
"I understand completely.
Goodnight, Dreselda." He said, bobbing his head, and quickly hurrying down the
hall with the girl. "Thank you," he said once they were down another corridor
and out of hearing. "I can't stand her."
"I can't say I blame you," said
the girl, angrily, as she glared back down the hallway and rubbed her side
where she'd been kicked.
"I'm sorry about that," he said,
and, strangely enough, he was. He didn't usually care what happened to the
staff, he'd even kicked one or two very stupid ones.
"Um, let's talk in here," she
said leading him over to a room whose door was ajar.
"Alright," he replied, following
her into the room. She held the door open for a moment after he had entered and
them shut it.
A/N2: Yes, that's kind of a odd
place to end the chapter, but this thing is already nine pages long, and if I
don't end it here I'll have to go on for a few pages more…Looks like Draco has
a little crush, will his affections be returned? Will the others steal the Rod
back? If so how? (I have no idea…) Stay tuned to learn more about the
Rod and Fae.
