Disclaimer: This story is written for the purposes of my own amusement and, hopefully, that of my readers, and no profit of any kind is being generated by it or by either of its prequels. All characters and history belong to J.K. Rowling and to whomsoever she has licensed her creations at the present time. I own the plot and the odd original character, nothing else.
Sorcerors' Endgame A Harry Potter Fanfiction by Penpusher Sequel to "By the Pricking of My Thumbs"Chapter Twelve: Through a Glass Darkly
"Reducto!" MacNair threw the curse at a tall tree standing in his way. It shuddered through the whole of its frame then with a groaning, rending sound, toppled thunderously to the forest floor, opening a temporary gap in the canopy. Sunlight poured in. Lucius eyed the destruction with approval.
"Good show." he said briefly. "I must say, MacNair, when it comes to curses, you can knock Pettigrew into a cocked hat. He has a distressing tendency to trip over his own feet in a crisis." MacNair nodded, his grim mouth betraying a faint curve of satisfaction. A man of few words, his association with Lucius was fairly recent but all the stronger for MacNair's solid conviction that Harry Potter had to be stopped. He'd heard enough from his Ministry sources to convince him that if Potter succeeded in his goal, it was only a matter of time before the Dark Forces would lose their stranglehold on the magical world. MacNair ground his teeth; they would just have to make very sure that Potter and the Weasley girl never returned from Bali, wouldn't they?
"What the …?" MacNair heard Lucius splutter in surprise. His eyes widened as he watched another member of their team approach the fallen tree, kneel at its side and extend a hand almost in benediction to the smashed and broken trunk.
"Miss Valentin!" Lucius moved into view, eyes snapping with irritation. "You're on point – get back what you were doing!" The girl rose reluctantly, shaking her head. The face she turned to Lucius was smooth and expressionless as usual, but her eyes were wary. She gazed thoughtfully at the two wizards, then turned to MacNair.
"Don't do this again." her voice was low. MacNair made a sound of disgust and turned away. Lucius frowned.
"Miss Valentin," he began with exaggerated patience, "we are here to pursue Harry Potter, to capture him and his fellow travellers, and to make sure that none of them ever sees the light of day again. We are not on a Sunday School nature walk! Now, cease this sentimental maundering and do your job!" Katia stood her ground, ignoring him and addressing herself to MacNair.
"Take heed." she replied, outwardly composed but the urgency of her tone betraying an inner unease. "There is a power here; a very great force, so great that my abilities are but a drop in the ocean by comparison. It is a foolish thing to use magic in this area. I sense a displeasure, almost an anger at what you have done." MacNair looked at Lucius, unsure as to how to respond. Lucius glared at the girl.
"Fairytales!" he spat scornfully. "Moonshine meant to rattle us. Getting a little of your own back after I bested you so thoroughly, eh?" He exchanged an insinuating grin with MacNair. Katia's eyes flashed.
"You did not best me!" she hissed. "When you couldn't get the better of me by force, you used an enchantment. You enhanced your puny physical strength to a level at which you could hold me, a mere weak woman, at bay. A very cheap trick, but then you are worth nothing better!"
"However much you protest, my dear, it worked!" Lucius was back on balance now, grinning openly and insolently. Irritation contorted the girl's sultry features and she shook her head.
"I gave you the warning honestly," she said, "now listen to me: I have spent most of my life in forests and swampland. I know the signs and the seasons, the rhythms and the rhymes of these places, and this one is different. If you value your lives, use no more magic." But MacNair's attention had been distracted. Abruptly he stiffened, pointing a finger into the distance.
"Malfoy." he said without turning. Lucius followed his line of sight and made a sound of deep contentment.
"Smoke!" he breathed, smiling broadly. "For once, Potter has made a mistake! Attention!" He turned to the rest of his party, which consisted, in addition to themselves, of two Deatheaters and three muggle heavies who were beginning to wonder exactly what they had got themselves into.
"Potter has given himself away." he said. "Katia, take a reading on their position and plot a route." Katia did not move. Lucius scowled.
"Oh, very well then, MacNair – you do it." Impassively, the large, dark man muttered under his breath, drawing carefully with the tip of his wand. At once a glowing map appeared in the air, automatically mapping out a route to intercept the party ahead of them.
"Excellent!" said Lucius exultantly. "If we keep walking through the night, we'll be practically on top of them by morning. All right, then everyone – prepare to move out!" There was a certain amount of protest, particularly from the muggles who were all prepared to bed down for the night. Grumbling, wizards and muggles re-stowed their gear and set to with a very bad grace. All except Katia.
She stood watching the others prepare to move out under the leadership of MacNair, making no attempt to join them. Finally, when the stragglers were just about to disappear into the forest, she bent to retrieve her pack. Swiftly, she moved to the front once more, shouldered MacNair out of her way, and continued to trailblaze through the forest, pushing aside the small amount of intrusive vegetation, skirting large trees and copses. Behind her, MacNair incessantly practised his destructive curses to relieve the boredom of the journey. Katia winced as the vibrations around her became more and more disturbed.
~oo0oo~
"The Holy Place is not far now. I can feel its power." Syrinx concentrated, a small frown gathering between her sightless eyes. Guru nodded.
"We will bivouac here for the night. Some water and a light meal would be very welcome." he replied, immediately beginning to forage for firewood. As the others followed suit, Fred crouched down beside the sightless girl and took her hand.
"What is it?" he asked softly. She gave a small smile and shook her head.
"Syrinx, please." he urged. "You told me my powers were strong. Don't shake my faith in them already. Come on, I can feel what you're thinking. Not very clearly, mind, but the gist of it's coming over. You're disturbed by something." The girl sighed.
"The emanations from the Holy Place, they are – confused." she began, wrinkling her forehead in an effort to understand. "I can see many timelines, many outcomes. It's difficult to decide which is the most likely." The girl stared up at him. Once again, Fred found it difficult to believe in her blindness.
"It's something like static on a muggle radio – do you know what I mean?" Fred nodded vigorously and gave a quirky smile.
"Dad used to play around with muggle artefacts for years before the Ministry relaxed the rules enough to allow a little interaction." he said in affectionate memory. The girl returned his smile.
"My vision is clouded." she explained. "There is – interference of some kind. The Balance has been out of alignment since Harry first set foot on Bali, but this is something different. It's a slow burn, a mounting impatience." She sighed in defeat and shrugged apologetically. "Even I have my limitations." Fred smiled, taking her other hand in his.
"They are very few and far between," he replied gallantly, "and, close to perfection as I am myself, I would find it difficult to live with someone who was totally flawless!"
"It's just as well then." the girl replied gravely, her eyes twinkling. Fred chuckled.
"Do you know," he began conversationally, stroking her hand, "if anyone had told me a week ago that I would travel to the other side of the world to meet an extraordinary woman who knew my whole life – past, present and future – I would have told them to pull the other one and listen for the bells." She reached forward to smooth his over-long red-gold hair away from his face without comment. His eyes were serious.
"You told me I was your destiny." Her hand lingered on his cheek.
"That I have known for many years now." she replied solemnly. "My prescience told me my own future would become intertwined with that of a man whose own origins were very far from my home. I didn't exactly know your name and address, but the gist was clear enough."
"Intertwined, eh?" Fred's smile was warm as he brought her pale hand to his lips. "I like the sound of that." Syrinx met his gaze with a glance of her own at once shy and knowing, and returned the smile.
~oo0oo~
"You okay, man?" Mouse's easy, confident grin broke into Draco's reverie. He clenched his teeth and smiled awkwardly.
"Never better." he replied, looking behind him for the umpteenth time. "Uh, Mouse, how do you know where Potter and his friends are heading?"
"Easy, man! Their trail ain't exactly hidden, if you get my drift. In fact, we should be happenin' upon 'em real soon."
"That's great work, Mouse. Well done." Draco unconsciously nibbled at a fingernail. To tell the truth, this place was beginning to spook him. Unsure exactly about the position of his father's pursuit group, he was equally in the dark as to the exact location Potter's final destination. He felt trapped, stifled. Squashed between two highly undesirable situations, like the meat in a sandwich.
"Why do the words 'rock' and 'hard place' come to mind?" he muttered to himself. Suddenly he froze, listening carefully. Mouse also stopped walking; his face cracked into a beaming grin.
"It's Harry!" he exclaimed. Instantly, Draco clamped a hand firmly over the other man's mouth. Surprised into submission, Mouse glared at his companion. Draco slowly removed his hand.
"Hey, what you doin', man? Where's the big problem?" Draco took a deep breath, his mind working at speed.
"Mouse," he began in a whisper. "Harry doesn't know I'm following him. Now, we really have to take this very gently indeed, otherwise he might be startled into attacking us by accident, okay?"
"You mean come in real quiet? Sure, I dig. That's okay with me." The spell was still holding strong, Draco observed with a sigh of relief.
Carefully, he took the lead, using the woodcraft he had learned as a child to conceal his presence rather than employing a camouflage charm. Strangely, Draco felt an inexplicable disinclination to cast any kind of spell in this place. His antennae were twitching, picking up faint traces of dark magick, but it was the curious slumbering impatience he could feel deep within the very fabric of the forest that unsettled him most.
The sound of quiet voices alerted him to the presence of strangers ahead. Glaring meaningfully at Mouse, and placing a finger firmly against closed lips, Draco peered carefully through a screen of undergrowth.
A little way distant from the others, Harry stood gazing sightlessly out into the forest. Despite the fatigue of the long journey, he felt no desire for rest. His brain was spiralling, working overtime, backwards and forwards on itself in a kind of fugue. Dumbledore betrayed us. He could have killed Voldemort. He let him live to go on to kill Cho and countless others. He shook his head violently.
"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny's soft voice broke into his reverie. "Would you like some tea?"
"No!" said much too loudly. She flinched then gave him a puzzled glance. He forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath
"I'm sorry," he said, with an ironic smile. "I didn't mean to shout at you. I'm just tired, I guess." He sighed and glanced once more into the forest.
"Can you talk about it?" Ginny wasn't buying, not at all. He turned to her, taking her hands in his.
"Not yet." he replied quietly. She nodded wordlessly, standing in silence with him for a few moments longer.
"Are you sure about that tea?" she asked in a small voice. He nodded without looking at her.
"Thanks for asking, but no." She gave a soundless sigh and walked away, pausing to gaze up at the moon and the unfamiliar stars.
Draco watched silently through the curtain of brush as the moonlight fell across the contours of her face. The pale radiance made her skin seem almost translucent; Draco could smell her perfume, feel her skin against his like a whisper of silk.
And he was caught.
~oo0oo~
It'll be sunset in a couple of hours. Sirius strolled aimlessly around the clearing, supposedly keeping watch. His eyes fell upon Fred deep in conversation with Syrinx. He snorted quietly to himself: no sense in interrupting that little tete a tete. Odd thing to happen to Fred, of all people. I really wouldn't have tagged him as the type to suffer from 'love at first sight'.
Sirius sighed, only partly out of fatigue, and looked over to where Harry was standing on the edge of the clearing. Now, anyone with even the remotest sensitivity to body language could see that boy wants to be alone. What's eating him, I wonder? Even Ginny's failed to bring him out of it. Sirius watched the slender, red-haired girl walk slowly in the opposite direction until he lost sight of her in the bushes. He frowned; she ought not to be out of range with night coming on. Walking swiftly towards her, he noticed Guru sitting alone, his eyes closed, his expression serene. Oddly calmed by the prospect, Sirius stood for a moment watching the holy man in prayer, then started to move away.
"If you wish for conversation, Sirius, I will only be a minute or two longer." Sirius jumped at the sound, then turned to Guru with a smile.
"You have as much second sight as your daughter." he told him. Guru shook his head.
"Not even close." he responded, his eyes still shut.
A few minutes later, Guru rose from the ground, dusted off his robes and beckoned to Sirius.
"You are restless." he told him without preamble. Sirius gave him a hard stare. Guru smiled.
"I do not have my daughter's gift, thank Merlin," he continued, "but I am sensitive to the emotions broadcast by others in my immediate vicinity. I'm what muggles would probably call an Empath." He shook his head with a faint smile.
"They insist on trying to force magic to conform to their rules." he said ruefully. "They cannot accept that there are more things on this earth than can be explained by their science." Sirius nodded in agreement.
"I agree." he replied. "In fact, I can say that I have met a number of very talented wizards who deny that they have any special powers. They prefer to believe in the powers of 'luck' or 'probability'. When push comes to shove, none of their muggle scientists can explain why certain parts of this planet are awash with floodwater, while others labour under impossible drought conditions, or indeed why a single coin should fall on its face rather than its tail." Guru was nodding.
"Very true," he agreed. "My daughter's sight, or the absence of it, was a case in point." He smiled reminiscently. "When she was born, an enthusiastic young surgeon with a great future ahead of him – muggle, of course – became very interested in my baby daughter's problems. He recommended a series of operations that, if successful, would give her a 50% chance of some peripheral vision in one eye. I refused. He accused me of bad parenthood. I had no defence to make." Guru sighed. "If I had told him the truth – that my daughter has a very powerful inner eye, and that to possess outer sight would very quickly drive her insane – he would immediately have labelled me as deranged. He certainly would never have believed that there are other ways to see than merely using one's eyes."
"What happened to him? The muggle surgeon, I mean." Sirius was intrigued. Guru shrugged.
"The muggle authorities agreed with his assessment of the situation." he replied. "They seemed to think it worthwhile to subject a baby to months of operations, disfigurement and pain merely to give her some vague semblance of organic sight. They put together powers to take Syrinx away from me." Guru shrugged. "She and I simply – disappeared." Sirius smiled.
"You're on no muggle or wizard database that I know of. I checked." Guru nodded.
"Records concerning either of us just seem to – vanish without trace. It's very confusing. For others, I mean." His tranquil smile did not falter one millimetre.
"I loved my wife very much." he began suddenly. "Throughout my life, I had taken it for granted that marriage was out of the question. My calling was too exposed, too risky a vocation to share with a wife and family, but from the moment I saw Pandora, I knew that we would never be parted." He shook his head wistfully in remembrance.
"She was beautiful, intelligent and a witch," he said, "and to my surprise, she felt just as strongly, just as quickly, for me. We married a matter of weeks after our first meeting, and within a month she came to me to tell me about the daughter she was carrying. I was amazed." Guru turned to Sirius.
"I was surprised," he continued, "but it wasn't just the swiftness of the conception. Pandora looked different. She was – somehow luminous." He broke off, shaking his head.
"I can't explain it any better than that." he said. "Her skin was radiant, her eyes glowed, the little magic she allowed herself to practise was effortlessly easy. It became clear, to me at least, that she had formed a close bonding with the unborn child. Together, their magic was incredibly powerful." He stopped speaking for a moment, lost in his story.
"She died," his voice was a whisper, "giving life to our daughter."
"I'm sorry." Sirius said haltingly, breaking the silence that followed.
"Mmm? Oh, I see!" Guru smiled at Sirius. "No – I was not asking for your sympathy, although it is much appreciated. I am an old man, Sirius, and old men tend to live in the past." He sighed.
"I truly believe that Pandora knew she was going to die," he continued, "and she passed her formidable powers to her daughter, strengthening what was already a very potent talent. When Syrinx was born blind, I felt no surprise: where a great gift is given, something is always withheld." He looked Sirius straight in the eyes.
"I am grateful it was merely one of her outer senses and not something more important." Sirius stared.
"Hang on a moment, Guru." he protested. "Blindness is a very great affliction …" Guru held up his hand.
"Firstly," he began gently, "Syrinx is not blind; her knowledge of the future gives her a detailed comprehension of current and future events that rivals anything you or I could boast with out 'normal' sight. Secondly, having spent my life in a vocation that nearly robbed me of the inestimable joys of a wife and family, I am grateful that my daughter's talents did not deny her that privilege." The holy man smiled at Sirius in sympathy.
"Your friend is not mistaken." he said quietly. "Destiny had marked him out for my daughter as surely as if he had been born and bred here on Bali." Sirius was puzzled.
"How did you know …?"
"That you were uneasy about the relationship between your friend and my daughter?" Guru smiled. "I told you – I am an Empath. Please rest easy, Sirius. Fred Weasley has come home. He has led an uncertain life; my daughter will give him the stability he craves, and in return he will protect her from those who would use her talents to the detriment of the world." He was silent.
~oo0oo~
Ginny bit her lip trying hard not to cry. She did not resent Harry for being unable to discuss his worries with her – Merlin knew, she had enough secrets herself to understand the inability to confide in anyone, let alone someone whose good opinion she wanted to retain. She just wished she were closer to Harry, close enough for him to open to her completely.
Despairing, she gazed up at the moon in its fullness, willing it to somehow help her overcome her present problems. She was oblivious of the stealthy movement in the undergrowth by her side. Swiftly, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth, an arm hooked around her neck and she was dragged unceremoniously off the path and into the concealing brush.
Almost immediately, she was set on her feet and the hand removed. She stared angrily at her abductor and gasped in astonishment.
"Draco!" she exclaimed. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" His eyes on her were curiously intense, but his mouth lifted in the old sardonic smile she remembered so well.
"My friend here said he'd take me on a tour of downtown Denpasar." he drawled sarcastically. "However, we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Could you direct me to the Three Mages' Karaoke Bar?" Ginny turned swiftly to find Mouse grinning inanely at her.
"Hi Ginny!" he said. "How's things wid you?"
"Mouse?" she whispered in astonishment. "What the – what are you doing here with him? Why are you going along with this? You're supposed to protect me!" Mouse smiled an even wider smile.
"Sho' I's protectin' you, Ginny, but you don' need protectin' here. Marcus, he's one of the good guys!" Ginny frowned, turning furious eyes on Draco.
"Imperius?" she spat contemptuously. Draco shook his head; he seemed somewhat embarrassed.
"Er, no, actually." he admitted. "I'm afraid I can't do that one." Ginny snorted indelicately.
"A likely tale."
"No, really." he protested. "It's an All Will be Well charm. Inferior to Imperius, of course, but it's the best I can manage after my Hogwarts education." Belatedly realising the precariousness of her situation, Ginny quickly went for her wand, only to find her arm held tightly in a vice-like grip.
"Easy, easy." murmured Draco, strong fingers depressing a pressure point. Ginny's hand opened; he caught her wand and pocketed it swiftly. She bared her teeth in frustration.
"You've come after Harry, haven't you?" she whispered. "I was right about you after all; no principles whatsoever. With all your damnable pride in your history, the Malfoy family honour – pah! Malfoy family claptrap!" She glared at him.
"I helped you escape from your father!" she continued angrily. "I was the one who sent Dobby – even you can't be stupid enough not to have worked that out. I told you then – all debts are paid: a life for a life." Draco dropped his gaze.
"If only it were that simple." he murmured softly, shaking his head.
Ginny was nonplussed. By rights, Draco should have at least stunned her and then hidden her body. Harry was almost guaranteed to come looking for her at some stage. Draco could then take him out at leisure and go home with no one else the wiser. Wiping Mouse's mind of the incident would be simplicity itself. So why was he hesitating? She shook her head.
"I'm sorry." she said, realising that Draco had been speaking. "I wasn't listening properly." Draco sighed in an exaggerated fashion.
"Story of my life," he complained, "women never listen to me. I told you, I haven't come after Harry. In fact, I have no ill intentions towards anyone in your party."
"And you expect me to believe that?" she sneered, "After what happened the last time we met?" Draco had the grace to look slightly shamefaced.
"Ginny, I …" he began, but she overrode him in her anger.
"Don't talk to me!" she told him. "How dare you come near me after what you did? You're lower than a slug – do you know that? No one with any pretensions to anything better would dabble in that kind of magic!"
Draco's cool exterior was starting to crack. He had anticipated having no further dealings with this girl, no contact, no conversation, no interaction, period. He would suffer in lonely isolation and bear his pain and humiliation like a Malfoy. However, try as he might, one sight of her and he found himself doing exactly the opposite. She was so close, close enough to touch; separation from her was a torment, but being near her was worse.
"Listen Weasley!" he snarled, "If I could cheerfully plot both your demise and that of your lover, I would do so. If I could destroy your entire family without a second thought, I'd do it. If I could hate you, I'd embrace the feeling with gratitude. I can't do any of these things. They are as impossible for me as – as becoming a Gryffindor!" She stared at him, puzzlement dawning beneath her anger. He shook his head, turning from her and sighing in deep frustration from several sources at once.
"The last time we met, I failed to ensnare you in a very complex enchantment." he drawled, trying to regain his sang-froid. "Suffice it to say that it backfired on me."
Ginny's eyes widened as she absorbed the full import of this.
"So you fell in love …" Draco flinched visibly.
"Okay, okay, Weasley, you don't have to say it out loud." he sighed in exasperation. "The long-term effects have been catastrophic enough, I assure you, without stating the obvious."
Ginny could not remember the last time she had been so aghast, so completely at sea. She stared at him, her jaw slack, her eyebrows practically meeting her hairline. Draco glared back, and suddenly the fatigue and strain of the past few weeks caught up with him. His eyes rolled, he sagged limply and he would have collapsed if Ginny's arms had not automatically outstretched to catch him before he fell. Draco leaned his head on her shoulder, biting back waves of nausea. I will not throw up over her! I am humiliated enough as it stands, any more would be unbearable! He gritted his teeth, forcing his vision to stabilise. As the world came back into focus, he raised his head.
In retrospect, he was unsure whether to blame it on his temporary loss of composure, the emotional effects of having lived on a knife-edge for far too long, or simply his body's response to that cursed enchantment. Whatever the cause, he was suddenly far too aware of the Weasley girl's close proximity; the gentle strength of her hands, the fragrance of her hair, the softness of her skin against his cheek, the lines of her back through the thin cotton shirt. These things flooded into Draco with overwhelming intensity, forcing an all too physical reaction from him. Before he could get a grip on himself, he was nuzzling her neck, mouth wet against her skin, lips tracing the tendons in her neck, moving upwards, onwards. Ginny struggled, trying to push him away.
"Draco." she warned, her face twisting with effort. "Draco, stop!" He paid no attention. He was kissing her now, slowly, passionately, as though his life had been spent waiting for this, the culmination of his existence. And somewhere deep in the cold heart of Draco Malfoy, a hunger was satisfied, a thirst slaked, a desire assuaged.
Then he yelled in pain. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Ginny shoved him away from her, hard.
"Hell's teeth – what are you, some kind of vampire?" Draco put a hand to his bitten lip and glared at her with frustration.
"Bitch!" he muttered furiously. Ginny swiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and snarled back at him.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Draco felt hollow, cold; empty once again. He pulled a ragged black silk handkerchief from of his pocket and dabbed at the oozing cut. Shaking his head, he struggled hard for control.
"No joke, Weasley," he replied ironically, "at least, not for me." She stared, speechless with anger.
"So you think you can just waltz into this place and ravish me at your leisure?" Draco raised a sardonic eyebrow, mask now firmly back in place.
"Did I miss something?" he asked politely. "I'm sorry to be dense, but I wasn't aware you had let me get that far." Ginny's rage exploded. She drew back her hand and dealt him a slap around the face that rattled his teeth. Draco absorbed the pain, staring at the ground, and slowly raised eyes that could neither hide nor master his inner desolation.
"I'm sorry." he whispered.
At once, Ginny was assailed by a frightening mixture of emotions. Anger, resentment and humiliation were top of the heap, closely followed by indignation tempered with more than a little fear. However, she was reluctant to probe deeper into her own feelings for fear of what she might find. Pity for Draco's plight was definitely a factor, but another emotion, undefined but significant was giving her pause.
"Ginny? Ginny, where are you? It's getting late, you shouldn't be out of sight." Harry's faint call was getting louder. Suddenly aware of how quickly the sun had set, Ginny glanced around her, startled at the sudden darkness. She opened her mouth, the breath catching in her throat as Draco made a convulsive move towards her, checking himself at the last moment.
"Don't …" he whispered, but it was too late; Ginny had had enough. Disturbed, humiliated, rattled beyond endurance, she filled her singer-trained lungs with air and screamed. Both she and Draco visibly ducked as Harry hurled himself through the brushwood into the copse. Pausing to brush the leaves from his face, Harry's eyes focussed, then narrowed.
"Malfoy!" he hissed between his teeth, going for his wand. Abruptly a thin cry echoed through the woodland.
"No! Please, for your own safety, no magic!" The intervention was timely. Harry swallowed on a dry throat, forcing his hand away from his sleeve. He glanced uncertainly and almost disbelievingly at Ginny. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. She was compulsively rubbing her lips. Her eyes met his and he could read the guilt in them. He turned back to Draco, murder in his heart.
But Draco wasn't there – at least, not quite. His body seemed to be thinning out, expanding, becoming translucent. Suddenly the hazy form coalesced into something quite different; a huge black and silver snake towered before them, lazily flicking its forked tongue as it weaved its head back and forth, never taking its eyes off Harry.
"Shit!" said a voice close to Harry's ear. He turned his head to see Fred, eyes as wide as saucers, staring mesmerised at the apparition. Sirius stood at Harry's other elbow, equally at a loss.
"What now, Harry?" he asked. Ginny's gasp was enough to alert him. Harry was no longer there. In his place was a huge, beady-eyed, golden lion.
"What the …?" Fred backed away quickly, grabbing Ginny by the arm. Sirius didn't need telling. The two creatures circled each other warily, sizing each other up for battle. Then finally the snake sat back on its coils, eyed the menacing lion confidently and spoke.
At least, thought Sirius, I assume it's speaking. Seeing as Harry's the only one around here who understands Parseltongue, it's a bit difficult to tell, but I guess Draco's decided to parley rather than fight. Let's hope Harry can still understand in lion form!
Harry was surprised on two counts. Firstly, he had expected Draco to let loose a volley of Dark Magick on sight, and still didn't understand why he hadn't. Secondly, he had never once rated his old enemy as Animagus material, so the appearance of the snake was a complete surprise. Harry himself had transformed in the heat of anger and the process had drained his energy reserves. He was willing to listen to Draco, if only to use the respite to regroup.
The Lion Harry growled his assent to parley. The snake hissed quietly, then began to speak in the slow, sibilant snake language.
"I have no quarrel with you, Potter," were the surprising first words, "and a sorcerous duel in this place would be, to hazard a guess, catastrophic." The Lion growled menacingly then proceeded to answer in parseltongue. Harry may have cooled slightly, but he was no nearer forgiving Draco.
"How dare you enter this place?" he spat. "You are the scum of the earth, beneath my notice, beneath even my contempt! Your presence offends against everything I hold sacred. You defile the very ground upon which you stand!"
"Potter, calm down." The snake even had Draco's mannerisms. "You're beginning to sound like some third-rate muggle soap opera. I had no intention of gatecrashing your little party, I'm after bigger prey."
"Then why are you here?"
"I was, er, distracted."
"By Ginny, yes! I saw exactly how you were distracted!"
"Potter, if you had the sense lettuce was given, you'd realise that the Weasley girl was entirely innocent; anything that occurred between us was entirely my own doing." The Snake Draco paused, puzzled; why was he defending her? The Lion Harry used the other's indecision to leap in again.
"So you admit to interfering with her?" The Lion roared suddenly, causing the others to shrink away. Only Syrinx stood her ground. Draco gave the snake equivalent of a heavy sigh.
"What can I say?" He stared helplessly at the lion. "I came upon you and your companions by mistake. I should have turned on my heel right then and walked away from you, but instead I looked. And I saw Ginny." He fell silent.
"I think I can imagine what happened next without any further elaboration" Harry's words were polite, but his tone was dangerous. "The question, Malfoy, is why?"
It took a little while for the Snake Draco to make up his mind to answer, and when he finally spoke, his tone was quiet, defeated.
"The nearer I am to her physically, the stronger the enchantment becomes." he began quietly, then sighed. "I was ensnared by my own charm, Potter. I would as soon cut off my right arm than admit this to you, of all people, but it is the truth. Your woman holds the keys to my very existence on this plane – and there is nothing whatsoever I can do about it."
The Lion Harry stared silently in utter disbelief. He growled low in his chest, paused, then began to speak again.
"Malfoy, are you truly expecting me to believe that – that load of tripe? My owl, you've told some seriously inventive lies over the years, but this really takes the biscuit! Are you honestly suggesting that, far from seeking to prevent me from completing my quest, you were irresistibly drawn here by the charms of Miss Weasley alone? That you were so incompetent at casting your enchantment, you inadvertently incorporated a reversal?"
Before Draco could retaliate, Syrinx leaped between them, her arms outstretched. Her face was pale as the moonlight, but her mouth set in a determined line.
"I hear you," she told both creatures, "every word! I understand your arguments and your lifelong enmity. You are both aware of the precarious balance of magic in this place. I beg you, for all our sakes, not to battle with each other but to try to resolve your differences in some other manner. Draco, you are completely outnumbered, you cannot hope to prevail under such conditions, but to pursue a magical duel in this place could have devastating consequences for everything. Please, I beg you – do not fight!"
There was a long, long pause; then the snake hissed and very slowly morphed back into Draco Malfoy. The slim, blonde man reached into his sleeve and produced two wands, both of which he tossed to the ground. The lion seemed to glare at Draco, tossed its mane and growled a low rumbling sound, but then morphed reluctantly back into Harry. Ginny tugged at his sleeve.
"You didn't tell any of us you were an Animagus!" She was more annoyed than overawed. Harry stared at her and gave a sudden hiccup of laughter.
"Did you really think I'd let Fred and George get one over on me? Particularly after all the help I'd given them?" He shrugged dismissively. "To be honest, it's not a particularly useful shape." He sighed. "Why I couldn't I have morphed into a squirrel or a mouse is beyond me. Even a snake is less – conspicuous."
"Think yourself lucky, Potter." the familiar sardonic drawl broke into their conversation. "A lion is an oddity. A snake that size causes riots – you should know." Harry turned swiftly and skewered Draco with a glare that would have flayed skin.
"Does your father know you can do this?" he demanded coldly. Draco laughed and shook his head.
"I know your opinion of my brainpower," he replied, "I've known it for years. However, I hoped you'd at least give me credit for some street sense. My father knows as little about me as I can get away with. That's how I've stayed alive for so long." Harry stooped to pick up the two wands from the forest floor. He passed one of them back to Ginny without looking at her; the other he weighed lightly in his hands, his mouth twisting with distaste.
"Is this supposed to buy you your life, Malfoy?" he asked. Draco shook his head.
"No," he replied, "it's merely to convince you that I'm telling the truth. I have no quarrel with you – not since I parted company with my father and his immediate interests." Harry stared speculatively at the blonde wizard then looked away with a disbelieving chuckle.
"And that's what we've come to, is it?" he said, flexing Draco's wand between his stiff fingers. "The classic showdown where you stand in front of me unarmed and unprotected to proclaim your innocence, as a result of which, of course, I will believe your every word, greet you like a lost son and extend the hospitality of the house." He laughed, an odd, humourless sound.
"And you expect me to fall for that one?" he continued. "Malfoy, I endured your endless insults, plotting, sarcasm and spite for seven long years at Hogwarts. What makes you think I'm likely to have any more sympathy with you now? If Ministry Intelligence is to be believed, you haven't changed much in essentials, just in scale. Your reputation isn't exactly an encouragement to mercy, you know."
"And don't forget, Harry," a stony-faced Fred added, "He apparently had no qualms about using an illegal Coercion enchantment on a muggle." He pointed to where Mouse was sitting, head in his hands, obviously coming down from some serious bewitchment. Harry's face twisted in distaste.
"By rights, I should kill you now, without a second thought." he spat, turning away.
"Ah, but you won't, will you, Potter?" Draco's voice cut through the overcharged atmosphere like a whiplash. Harry froze but did not turn around.
"You may find my very presence intolerable," he continued, "like an itch you are unable to scratch, a mosquito you cannot squash. You may have no earthly reason to trust me over anything at all. You may consider yourself fully justified in cold-bloodedly striking me down, not only for my past crimes, but also to prevent any inside threat to your current safety. However, despite all that, you still won't do it. You're too much Dumbledore's pupil, Potter. You won't kill me, unarmed and defenceless as I am. At least, not without hearing me out first." Harry was silent, then slowly he turned to face his enemy. His face was calm and grave, but his eyes glittered with malice.
"Convince me then." he said quietly, but the menace behind those simple words was unmistakeable.
~oo0oo~
"I'm sure she won't be long."
The pretty, blonde Receptionist at the Embassy had obviously recognised Oliver Wood as soon as he set foot in the foyer. She had been extra helpful, and was now favouring him with dazzling smiles every time he so much as glanced in her general direction.
A pity really. mused Oliver. I'm not usually attracted to blondes, but with this much attention … behave yourself, Wood! Giving himself a mental slap, Oliver turned away from the luscious blonde to where Julie Wu was already striding towards him. Moving to intercept her, a happy smile lighting up his entire face, he was somewhat taken aback when she strode past him, ramrod straight, her expression as black as thunder. Scarcely breaking stride, she flung something at the Receptionist so hard it bounced off the desk, landing at Oliver's feet. With the reflexes of a keeper, Oliver quickly scooped up the object and gasped in astonishment.
"Julie, this is your Ministry ID!"
"Not anymore it isn't!" This last was shouted over her shoulder as she exited through the revolving door. Exchanging one astonished glance with the Receptionist, Oliver took to his heels in pursuit.
Outside, he looked frantically right and left, just catching the toss of a dark ponytail as it disappeared into the driver's seat of a long, low car. He dived for the passenger door and wrenched it open.
"Going somewhere?" he asked mildly, sliding in and fumbling for his seatbelt. Without answering, Julie jerked the car violently into reverse, storming off into the sea of traffic, which parted reluctantly to admit her amidst a volley of blaring horns. She greeted the protest with supreme indifference, dodging between lanes, cutting up slower vehicles, taking on huge lorries with total aplomb. Oliver hung on for dear life, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
It was only when Julie braked sharply, bellowing a torrent of invective out of her window that Oliver dared to sneak a quick look at their surroundings. To his surprise, they were miles out of the city, heading for the mountains.
"Prick!" his lady companion concluded, closing her window and accelerating away from the Porsche driver who had so offended her.
"Ah, what did he do?" She shrugged.
"Cut me up – nobody gets away with that when I'm driving this machine! And besides," she glanced across at Oliver, a ghost of a smile around her lips, "in my experience, there's only one reason men drive cars like that." She broke off, negotiating a hairpin bend smoothly.
"Oh, yes?" prompted Oliver when it was safe to do so.
"Yes." she continued. "Compensation." He raised his eyebrows interrogatively. She sighed.
"The flashier the car, the smaller the substance. Oh, for goodness sake!" she gunned the engine on a straight piece of road.
"It's a substitute. For something else not quite up to standard … Look, let's just forget I mentioned it, shall we?" Oliver opened his mouth to ask for further details then thought better of it.
A few minutes later, with a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust, Julie Wu brought the car to a standstill on a small, dirt parking area. She flung open her door, ignoring the sudden wave of heat and humidity, and stalked to the edge of the road, looking down on the city. Oliver approached rather more slowly and joined her. For a few minutes they were completely silent, then, despite the heat, Julie shivered, rubbing her hands over her goosefleshed arms.
"I come up here sometimes when things get too hairy." she began in a low voice. "Looking out over Singapore brings everything back into perspective. Y'know: why I do this job; where I find the resources; how I cope with the bureaucracy, the idiocy that makes the rules." she trailed off and unexpectedly reached for Oliver's hand. He brought her fingers to his lips.
"What happened?" he asked quietly. She shook her head.
"Just some asshole from the British Ministry of Magic." she replied. "Wanted every single scrap of information on Harry Potter's activities in Singapore and Bali, if you please! Ya don't say!" Julie snorted indignantly.
"I told him my sources are my own and no jumped-up little office boy who's been promoted beyond his level of incompetence is going to stampede into my network and ruin seven years of patient work in one fell swoop!" Oliver felt a sudden chill go down his spine.
"Tell me, Julie," he asked carefully, "did this particular asshole have a name?"
"Something Brown." she replied carelessly. "Tarantula? No, Tantalus – that's it. Idiot! These Ministry bigwigs, who have no idea of the process of information gathering, they think they can just waltz into another jurisdiction and start throwing their weight around." Oliver sighed.
"Julie, I'm sorry to say this, but I'm rather afraid he can!" She stared.
"What?"
"Tantalus Brown is First Secretary to the Minister of Magic. He carries a lot of clout. I'm surprised you didn't know of him." She digested this in silence then shrugged.
"I work at grassroots level." she replied. "I have as little to do with the bigwigs as possible. But," she bit her lip, "I admit, that was a mistake. I should have kept tabs on Ministry reshuffles." She was silent for a while, staring into the horizon. Then she sighed and gave a grim smile.
"So I'm permanently out of a job in Intelligence." she shrugged. "No big deal." Oliver couldn't believe he was hearing this.
"You'd give up your career – just like that?" Julie turned towards him slowly.
"No, Oliver." she said quietly. "Not just like that. I've worked on hunches before many times – I'm rarely wrong. As soon as I saw that man, I had a ba-a-ad feeling. Even if it weren't against my principles to expose my sources to another operative, however highly placed, every instinct I have was warning me in no uncertain terms to tell him nothing!" She smiled faintly.
"So while he had lunch, I did some lightning, uh, adjustments to the filing system." The smile reached her eyes and she turned her face towards him.
"Like most ministry wizards, that guy doesn't have the faintest clue how to operate a computer," she said quietly, "so I destroyed all the papers in my office which had even a vague connection with Harry." Her smile had spread into a broad, satisfied grin. "I went through the universal filing system too – nothing remains, except what's on computer." Oliver's jaw dropped.
"You mean," he began hesitantly, "you've destroyed Ministry property?" She shook her head vehemently.
"Certainly not!" she replied. "Perish the thought. I've merely made the first step towards a paperless office. We're always getting circulars about it." Oliver stared.
"You are joking – aren't you?" She shook her head solemnly.
"The information's still there, all of it," she replied innocently, "But if this guy Brown wants to get at any of it, he'll have to use an expert. There's a hotshot at the Ministry called Lee Jordan who should be able to crack my security system with one hand tied behind his back, but seeing as he's a friend of Harry's, I guess he won't be in any great hurry to deliver – especially if he reads my email first!" Oliver looked at her smiling, determined face and felt a sudden wave of love and admiration wash over him.
"Julie," he sighed, "you are simply – wonderful!" To his astonishment, colour flooded into her face and she ducked her head in embarrassment.
"Just doing my job." she muttered, looking anywhere but at him. Oliver put his arms around her, tilting her chin towards him to cover her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. He felt her smile then reach round to tangle her fingers in his hair. He had every intention of continuing with this eminently satisfactory way of spending an afternoon, when a shrill cry from the air alerted them both. A Post Owl was hovering overhead clutching a tightly-wrapped scroll. Oliver held out his hand and the owl sent its burden smacking down into his palm with an audible thwack.
It was a message from Arthur Weasley.
Lucius Malfoy has been spotted in Nusa Dua – Oliver gasped out loud – and no one has seen hide nor hare of Harry for two days; Mouse has also gone missing. I need urgent information as to Harry's whereabouts otherwise I cannot guarantee his safety. Peter Pettigrew has at last been apprehended under rather unusual circumstances, and I have had him transferred to a high security muggle prison. A certain person who has caused us anxiety in the past objected strongly to these arrangements, but luckily the Minister was with me on this one. Ministry wizards are investigating a curious set of binding charms which appear to be restraining Pettigrew, but so far with little success. Julie, I am sorry to write in such a terse manner, but I am in extreme haste. Trust nothing and no one that does not come from your own patch – I can put it no clearer than that. Regards, Arthur.
Julie lowered the message, met Oliver's worried eyes and let out a low whistle.
"Well, lookey here!" she exclaimed softly in an absurdly exaggerated Southern States accent. "Looks like I hit the nail plumb on the head, huh?"
~oo0oo~
"Why do you refuse to believe me, even now, Potter?" Draco hissed through his teeth in exasperation. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm not here to sabotage whatever little scheme you're party to. I've already admitted to my part in last year's debacle. That little scheme would have enslaved both you and Miss Weasley to the Dark Side had it succeeded. But this isn't about you – not everything is, you know – and it's not about her either, despite what you might think." He sighed.
"I needed you to get to my father, it's as simple as that. Where you are, so he is – simple. All I had to do was find you – and believe me, in my situation with the Dark Side, tracking you down was easier and a lot less risky."
"Why didn't you tackle him when he was in England?" responded Harry. Draco sighed in exasperation.
"Don't you listen, Potter? In England, he's untouchable, impregnable. That would be a rapid route to a slow and unpleasant death. The only way I'm going to get to him is to confront him when he's off his patch." Harry was silent, wrestling with his inner disgust. Draco threw a glance towards Ginny and made an impatient noise.
"Okay, Potter, so you can't stand the fact that I pissed on your territory." Harry's head jerked up. His eyes glittered malevolently. Draco returned the look full force.
"Well, it happened." he continued recklessly, ignoring the rising rage in Harry's face. "It's history and I can't change it even if I wanted to, so you'll just have to suck it up and swallow it, however bad it tastes. Rest assured, I will pay for that little piece of trespass – for the rest of my life." Harry stared at him as though he had grown two heads. His nostrils flared in anger.
"You dare to …"
"For Merlin's sake!" Draco was shaking his head. His eyes were urgent.
"If I had wanted a woman, don't you think I could have had my pick of hundreds more accessible than Virginia Weasley? I ask you, Potter, with my family name and money, not to mention the Dark Arts connection, was I likely to choose an impoverished nobody from a mudblood-loving family with no social connections whatsoever? Do you think I relish being tied to someone who is not only totally unsuitable, but also – " he swallowed convulsively, " – irrevocably pledged to you?" Draco paused and fought visibly for control.
"What other motive could I possibly have for pursuing you here bar that which I have already explained in tedious detail?"
"You could be acting as an inside man for your father." It was Fred who had spoken. His hands were clenched and his face was white despite the calming hand Syrinx held on his arm. Draco turned to identify the speaker. He nodded seriously.
"I could be," he agreed, "but I'm not."
"We only have your word for that."
"And you'd rather kill me now and worry about it later, seeing as it was your sister I very nearly violated – is that it, Weasley?" Draco laughed, a humourless, bitter sound.
"If you do kill me, you'll never know for sure – will you?" Fred glared at him with hatred then let his eyes drop.
"Why should we trust you?" it was Sirius who was speaking. "After all, we have nothing to gain from your inclusion in our ranks, and everything to lose." Draco nodded.
"All very true, except for one thing." He nodded towards Harry. "There is very little I can do without my wand – which Potter is currently bending with such energy as I fear for its survival."
"I hear you," it was Guru who now spoke, "and your presence fills me with foreboding. You say you came for your father, but you did not find him. Instead you have found us. How close is your father to us here?" Draco considered.
"I don't know exactly," he said slowly, "But according to Pettigrew, who I interrogated within an inch of his life yesterday, dear Daddy was supposed to have set out, with accurate knowledge of your destination, this afternoon. That puts him a maximum of twelve hours behind you, less if he travels through the night."
"I believe him." The words were softly spoken but silence fell in their wake. Slowly, all heads turned to look at Ginny. Pale, exhausted, but determined, she held her chin high and repeated her words.
"I think we should trust him." she continued. "He has imposed upon me, but he hasn't injured me – not yet at any rate – and I don't believe he intended to join us here at all. I think he was led here by Mouse and once he saw me, he was – unable to leave." She flushed deeply but stood her ground. She glanced around at the stony-faced men and knew that her contribution would not preserve Draco's life. Then, surprisingly, Syrinx spoke.
"I believe I must speak on this man's behalf as, without my intervention, I foresee that he will suffer summary execution." A shocked silence followed this chilly little speech. Fred gave Sirius a sidelong glance but held his peace.
"We must allow him to remain with us here." Syrinx told them, a note of finality in her voice. "I do not vouch for his good behaviour, nor do I guarantee that we will come to no harm as a result of his presence. All I can promise is that the Balance will only be restored if this man is allowed to live, here and now."
"Syrinx," Fred took her hands, a worried expression on his face, "this man is allied to the Dark Side. How can you justify taking sides with him?" A flicker of impatience crossed her beautiful features.
"I'm not siding with him – can you not understand the difference, Fred?" Syrinx took a deep breath as if trying to order her thoughts into a convincing set of words, but Sirius cut in before she could speak again.
"Much as I hesitate to advocate violence, we would be considerably safer if Draco were not part of our group." he said firmly. "I personally would be grateful to lose the itch between my shoulderblades. It's difficult to concentrate on fighting the enemy in front of you when you constantly fear being stabbed in the back." Guru shook his head violently.
"No, no! You are all missing the point." he silenced them with a gesture. "Draco here does not know how close his father is to us, but he says possibly less than half a day. Our major concern is to reach our objective before he can stop us. He knows our destination and our goal!" Draco smiled ironically.
"You're right, old man." he answered, skewering the entire group with his intense blue-grey eyes.
"Believe me," he said coldly, "Pettigrew sang like a canary, as the saying goes, before I immobilised him, and Pettigrew knows only what my father tells him. It was his information that brought me to the Bali Barat National Park. My father is already here, and he has all the information he needs. All that is left for him now is to follow your trail. Scary, isn't it?"
"What does Harry think?" All eyes turned to the dark-haired man standing a little apart from the others, brooding over the dilemma.
"Well, Potter?" Draco's voice was very soft. Harry raised his head and their eyes met for a long moment.
"Merlin help me if I'm wrong," he said in a low voice, "but I can neither carry out nor condone cold-blooded murder." Harry lifted his chin defiantly and stared Draco down.
"And if that's weakness, Draco Malfoy, then you had better start thanking your lucky stars there is still some of it left in the world – because without that 'weakness', your life would be spilling liberally over this forest floor – and with no one here to mourn your passing!" Their eyes locked in a long moment of enmity until Draco reluctantly lowered his gaze.
"Everyone, get packed up." Harry broke the silence. "We leave in twenty minutes. We must reach our destination before dawn or Lucius Malfoy will intercept us." He turned to his godfather.
"Sirius, I'm appointing you jailer to our friend here." he jerked his head
towards the waiting Draco. "As far as
I'm concerned, he's excess baggage.
Don't hesitate to use undue violence – any flimsy excuse will do."
Sirius nodded grimly. "But no
magic." Harry turned on one foot,
scanning the whole group.
"This means everyone!"
~oo0oo~
"So, did you get them at Hogsmeade, or had they got as far as Hogwarts?" The flickering face of George Weasley laughed at his brother's question as they firetalked.
"Do me a favour!" he replied. "They hadn't even got off the train! Honestly, fancy using the Hogwarts Express – talk about stupidity. It seems that even Lucius Malfoy is finding it hard to get good help these days!"
Ron smiled, accepting a cup of tea from Hermione who sat down next to him.
"Congratulations, George." she said, nodding briefly. "I understand that two out of the three you arrested had Ministry rewards on their heads."
"Indeed." George replied. "We owe Lee a big one for this. If he hadn't traced that muggle thing you got out of Draco Malfoy, those wizards would have turned up on your doorstep!" He shook his head. "Far better to get them so far out of their territory they could hardly even put up a fight." With a swift glance at Ron for George's benefit, Hermione gave a non-committal agreement. George, however, failed to take the hint.
"Yes," he mused. "Must have been a bit disturbing, that; Malfoy cutting that device out of his calf muscle without magic or anaesthetic. Not something you want to witness just after a meal." Ron frowned in puzzlement.
"In his calf muscle?" he turned to Hermione. "You didn't tell me about that?"
"Didn't I?" she feigned indifference, frowning heavily at George. "Well, I probably didn't want to dwell too much on it. It was, er, rather distressing, you know." George nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I expect it must have been," he replied, seriously, "and checking minutely through all of his clothes can't have been any picnic either." Ron opened his mouth to reply to his brother, then, as his brain caught up, closed it hurriedly. He stared at Hermione in disbelief; she winced.
"All of his clothes?" he asked. Reluctantly, Hermione nodded.
"Even – you know, even – underwear?" This time her nod was so faint as to be almost imperceptible. Ron drew breath.
"Do you mean to tell me," he began slowly, "that Draco Malfoy stripped naked in the middle of our apartment while you searched his clothes for surveillance devices?"
"Bugs." muttered Hermione with a sinking heart. George bit his lip.
"Have I said something I shouldn't?" he asked plaintively. Hermione gave him a curiously tight-lipped smile.
"Not at all, George." she replied, lightly but with an edge of steel. She bid him a pointed farewell between tightly clamped teeth and closed down the call with almost indecent haste. She rose from the sofa only to find her hand grasped and a pair of suspicious eyes looking straight into hers.
"Darling, isn't there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Ron asked softly. Shit! thought Hermione, feeling her smile congeal on her face. Now let's see you get out of this one, Granger!
~oo0oo~
"Finite incantatem!" MacNair watched in disbelief as the small monkey climbed unsteadily to its feet, then he whirled around in fury.
"How dare you!" he shouted. Katia was resheathing her wand. The monkey suddenly seemed to snap out of its daze, shrieked once and fled into the safety of the trees. MacNair advanced on the girl, wand at the ready.
"What gives you the right to interfere in my business?" he roared into her face. She flinched slightly at the touch of his breath, but held her ground, glaring right back at him.
"I have tried and tried to make you understand." she said, rage showing through with every word. "This is a Holy Place. If you idiots are too insensitive to detect its power, then you had better believe me before you get all of us killed. Use no more magic – of any kind!" But MacNair was in no mood to listen to reason.
"I'll conduct my affairs in whatever manner I choose," he shouted, "without reference to you or anyone else!"
"Only a complete imbecile would use one of the Unforgiveable Curses on Holy Ground!"
"I couldn't give two Knuts for your holy ground! I will do as I wish, and you will not dictate to me!"
"Fool! Do you want to die?"
The exchange had reached screaming pitch. Lucius decided to intervene. Pushing them apart, he glared into the woman's face.
"Katia, you will kindly keep your opinions to yourself unless they are asked for," he snarled, then turned to the other wizard, "and use of the Cruciatus curse on a mere monkey seems to me something of a waste of energy, MacNair." The other wizard growled, not quite meeting Lucius' eyes.
"Just keeping my hand in." he muttered. I'll bet, thought Lucius. Katia snorted in disgust and walked away.
"Remember, I warned you." she hissed back at him as she shouldered the heavy pack once again.
"Rest break over." she shouted, oblivious of Lucius' scowl. "All of you – get underway." She strode off into the forest, leaving the others to scramble together their baggage and follow haphazardly in her wake.
~oo0oo~
Syrinx dropped her water cup with a gasp. Her eyes flew wide with dismay.
"Someone is using magic close to the Source!" her voice was a horrified whisper. She sprang to her feet. "An Unforgiveable Curse – oh, Flamel's Stone! The Balance, the Balance!" Fred gathered the distraught girl into his arms, horrified by the rigid immobility of her body. He exchanged a worried glance with Guru. The old man nodded.
"We had better make haste." he said. "I would hazard a guess that pursuit is not far behind us." Harry gritted his teeth and gazed intently back at the route they had just traversed.
"Lucius Malfoy." he muttered savagely. "I just know it. I've never really been free of his influence since I came home from LA." Ginny put a gentle hand on his arm.
"Let's get moving – while we still can." she said quietly
~oo0oo~
The Oldest Place, thought Harry Potter as he eased his pack to the ground, was a bit of a disappointment.
After several miles of walking on high ground, above the level of the treetops, they had plunged back down into the dimness of the forest. They continued a little way further, their eyes gradually adjusting to the gloom, when without warning, Syrinx stopped, bowing her head reverently. She looked up, her blind eyes shining with an inner light.
"We are here." she announced quietly.
It was a clearing like any other. There was little undergrowth and the canopy of leaves was as impenetrable as ever. Nothing special, thought Harry. At least, until his eyes travelled to the centre of the clearing, and he saw the Tree.
It was huge, even by giant standards; quite the most enormous tree Harry had ever imagined, let alone seen. Its trunk was the width of an entire copse, and its outspreading branches must have spanned an area of at least half a mile. In a forest of giant redwoods, this tree would have reduced its companions to mere weeds. With a dawning sense of awe, Harry realised that they had travelled under its sheltering foliage for miles; in fact, ever since they had re-entered the forest.
"What …?" whispered Ginny. Harry turned to look at her. Her face registered nothing so much as blank astonishment. As if hypnotised, she moved towards the tree, stretching out a hand. Just prior to contact, she turned to Syrinx as if for permission. The blind girl nodded. Ginny placed her hand upon the smooth bark and closed her eyes, concentrating. She remained there for a long moment, but when she withdrew, her face was puzzled. Harry moved to her side.
"What is it?" he asked softly, ducking his head to intercept her eyes.
"I don't know." she replied. "There's a power here. Massive … awesome. It reminds me of something …" she trailed off, looking towards Syrinx. The girl smiled.
"It is the power of the Old Magic." she said simply. "It recognises you."
"But how?" Ginny couldn't take her eyes of the Tree.
"You have felt its presence before – in another place, another time."
"Stonehenge?" queried Harry. Syrinx nodded.
"I am the Dryad." Ginny whispered half to herself, then she turned to the other woman, her eyes shining.
"That's right!" Harry's face was alight with interest. "The High Magic came to our aid, just when we were at our most desperate. That was the first time we felt the bonding, wasn't it Gin?"
"That is wonderful!" Syrinx smiled delightedly. "It is good to hear that more of the Old Magic survives in other parts of the world."
"Actually," interjected Fred, "it called itself the High Magic the last time we looked. And besides, we were reliably informed, when the hue and cry had died down a bit, that episode had never actually happened – or didn't happen on this plane – or something."
"Oh, Fred!" Syrinx laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Shame on you for not keeping up with your studies. Surely you realise by now that The Essence of Magic is known by many different names, and all planes are joined in oneness with the core of Magic? That's elementary stuff!" Fred shook his head, an indulgent smile spreading over his face.
"Elementary to you perhaps." he muttered.
Harry stepped up to the towering edifice and stood scratching his head, staring into its branches.
"This is all very well," he began in a slightly peevish tone, "but Ginny's the one who is sensitive to all things natural. I've never felt so much as a tremor from a tree in my life!"
"But you're a Parselmouth!" protested Fred. "I know that's not trees, but it's part of the natural world, you have to admit." Harry frowned.
"Fred," he said patiently, "we all know how I got that particular talent – and it didn't come naturally. I think we can count that one out." Syrinx shook her head.
"All parts of you are relevant in this process." she told him. "You will be opening your soul to another presence – your very essence, and all that goes with it. All your natural talents and understanding, all your life experience, everything you have learned, consciously and unconsciously will be laid bare for another spirit to absorb and understand. If a Joining is ever to take place between you, it will happen here."
Ginny bit her lip.
"What happens if we can't meld?" she asked.
"No harm will come to you," replied Syrinx, "but you will still have the knowledge of each other and this will almost certainly affect your future relationship." Harry's face had become graver and graver during Syrinx's recital.
"So that means – no secrets? Ever again?" he asked uncertainly. Syrinx nodded solemnly. He looked away, dragging a shaking hand through his hair.
"Harry?" Ginny timidly put a hand on his arm. Without looking at her, Harry shook his head.
"I can't go through with it, Gin." he said in a low voice. "I just can't – let go like that." If he allowed another person into his mind, another presence into his psyche, the deep shame of Dumbledore's betrayal would have to be faced, solved, accepted. So much of what made Harry Potter what he was had come from the enigmatic Mage; to fully accept his duplicity struck at the core of Harry's very existence, threatened everything he stood for.
Ginny felt as though a stone had sunk heavily to the pit of her stomach. This was the end. If he could not accept the gift she had offered – a complete sharing of everything that had been, was or would be Ginny Weasley – then it was all over between them. Finished. Ended. There was no way she could stay friends with him after this. Perhaps he would go back to LA – the opportunity was still there, so she understood. If he didn't go, she would have to leave. She certainly couldn't stay living in his house knowing what could have been.
Ginny swallowed, feeling sick, and tried to look Harry in the face. He refused to look at her, turning away in deep shame.
"What's the matter, Potter?" the nasal drawl penetrated the silence like a buzz-saw. "Scared?" No one had spotted Draco moving stealthily into the clearing. Harry stiffened then turned.
"None of your damn business, Malfoy!" he said tightly, balling his fists. Draco smiled insolently.
"Absolutely." he agreed. "Oh, I totally agree; no question about it. However …" his voice trailed off interrogatively. Harry looked up sharply.
"However what?" he demanded. "Malfoy, if you've got something to say then spit it out." Draco raised his eyebrows.
"You really do have a delicate turn of phrase when the mood takes you, Potter." he replied in an offhand manner. He straightened his sleeve, taking note of a number of small tears in the fabric. "I was merely postulating that the Famous Harry Potter, Vanquisher of He Who Must Not be Named, has finally met his match." Shaking his head, Draco minutely examined his fingernails.
"Strange really." he continued in a conversational tone. "Such reputed courage, such vaunted nerve, such alleged combat skills, yet fear of the unknown keeps the Famous Harry Potter skulking in the shadows, when even his little mistress is straining at the leash."
"You don't understand what's at stake, Malfoy." muttered Harry. Draco laughed out loud.
"Oh, but I think I do!" he replied, grinning broadly. "How good are you at memory charms, Potter? Is that how you got your reputation? Something of the Gilderoy Lockhart about you, is there?"
"Malfoy, I'm warning you!"
"Oh, but I'm just getting started! Tell me, Potter, was it really Black who helped Dumbledore defeat the Dark Lord – only he's just forgotten about it? Or was it Remus Lupin? Did he give his life to banish You Know Who, only to have the glory snatched from under his dying nose? Or perhaps it was Weasley? No, no." Draco shook his head violently. "No. That particular scenario is beyond even my fertile imagination."
The next moment, Draco landed flat on his back on the forest floor. He raised himself onto his elbows, shook his head in a dazed fashion then brought a hand to his face.
"Ow!" he said, gingerly feeling the flesh around his left eye. "Powerful right hook you have there, Potter. I'm going to have a beautiful shiner for a couple of weeks." Harry stood over Draco's prone body, breathing heavily, massaging his bruised knuckles.
"Shut up, Malfoy." he managed in a low voice. "Just – shut up!"
Harry set his jaw. With one final disdainful glance at his fallen adversary, he turned his back on the group. He walked over to where Ginny stood, anxious and white-faced, and held out his hand.
"Well?" he said tensely. "Are we going?" Ginny looked carefully into his eyes then, with relief flooding through her whole body, she took his hand. Together they moved towards the enormous tree, stretched out their hands, Harry with only a momentary hesitation, and together placed them on the massive trunk.
With their eyes riveted to the couple by the tree, no one noticed a small, rather sad smile spread over the tired face of Draco Malfoy. Maybe now all debts were paid? Maybe.
The tree began to glow. Slowly, gradually, a warm golden light suffused the clearing. The very bushes and plants seemed to glimmer in sympathy, absorbing the energy, creating radiance of their own. Suddenly, as though someone had struck a match, the light flared up to an intolerable intensity. Reeling with shock, they cried out, hands over their eyes.
"What's happening?" Sirius staggered forward, tears streaming down his face. When his abused eyes could finally register an image once again, he found himself standing in front of the tree. He stretched out his hands to touch the bark; it felt rough and warm. Ginny and Harry were nowhere to be seen.
~oo0oo~
Author's Notes: Thanks very much for the reviews Cinnamon Oatmeal, Dreamgirl, Annie and quota. Keep 'em coming – they keep me going!