A/N: Happy Sunday! I've got 47 pages of schoolwork left to write until May 18, the last day of finals... but that won't keep me from writing this too! In fact, my draft is now only 3 chapters from the end... ::evil cackle:: I just finished typing up chapter Thirty-One, which has enough angst/drama to make even ME depressed. And I'm the writer! To quote my beta, "Mmm.... angsty-goodness...."
Oh, if you're anywhere near Iowa City, go to Masala, a little Indian restaurant near the university. Best food in the entire world. I had basmati rice and curry (and nan. Mm). I'm in heaven. Curry and Harry Potter — what could be better? Well, more Harry Potter, I suppose...
Chapter Nineteen — A Breath Away from Hell
"It's a world, where the dogs eat the dogs
Where they kill for the bones in the street
And God in His Heaven, he don't interfere
Cause He's dead as the stiffs at me feet."
-Les Miserables, "Dog Eats Dog"
Saturday, November 8, 2003
She was confined to her room. Blaise moaned softly to herself, squeezing her eyes shut against the memories of Fred, memories which had been haunting her ever more often. She'd made a terrible mistake, one which would cost Draco his life, not to mention the lives of herself and the unborn child of Fred Weasley.
There had to be a way to warn Draco. Anything to get him to stay away from the house. And then, salvation came, in the form of one Narcissa Malfoy.
The other woman slipped into the plush bedroom which had become Blaise Zabini's prison, and set a tray of food on the table. "Hello, my dear... you looked quite bored the last time I made an appearance, so I thought I'd play house-elf for a bit and pop in with your lunch."
"Thank you, Narcissa," Blaise replied, her grateful tone not an act. "Has Lord Voldemort given new orders for my keeping?"
Narcissa waved the implications away. "He's just worried that Draco's gone and made a fool of himself. I know my boy, Blaise, and I know he's smarter than that. He's well aware of what our Lord would do if he turned."
Blaise made a murmured noise of assent, hoping to keep from betraying herself yet again. She picked her words carefully, taking a bite of chicken before setting up for the gambit. "I was hoping I might write him a little note... I promised to send him a letter every day, to tell him how the baby is, and all. If I write it with you watching, would you make sure it is sent by owl? Then you can tell Lord Voldemort whatever he wishes to know of it."
"A note?" Narcissa's gaze turned cold and calculating. "I'll read the letter before it is sent. That seems enough to me — though if it says something odd, I'll destroy it. You'd best not be trying to charm it, or I'll know."
Blaise gave an affronted glare. "Narcissa! I thought you knew me better than that!" Mrs. Malfoy gave a snort of derision in return, but sauntered away to attend to something else. Blaise snatched up pen and paper and scribbled down the first things which came to mind.
Draco-
Sorry about the argument Wednesday. Lovely visit with Davie on Thursday. Baby's fine. Keep safe, I'm fine, visiting your Mum at the manor.
With love, Blaise
She read over it again with a nod, hoping the hidden clues would be obvious enough for even Draco to find. Blaise called Narcissa over for approval to send off the owl.
Draco Malfoy sighed into his lunch, trying to avoid the glares sent his way by Ron, from across the infirmary. Finally sick of it, he pushed to his feet and yanked shut the curtains around his bed, put there to hide the spy's identity from students. Every day he spent hidden away at Hogwarts was one more chance for Voldemort to discover what had happened — and each day gone was probably one less chance of living out the month. Suddenly, the food stacked neatly on the hospital tray looked a lot less appetizing.
The curtain was pushed back to admit the form of Madame Pomfrey, a large spotted owl perched on her shoulder. "An owl for you, Draco."
He gave a curt nod, snatching the scroll as politely as possible, turning it so the gossipy healer couldn't read over his shoulder. However, on the second sentence, he stopped short. David Avery had been at Blaise's manor. Alarm bells went off in his brain, twice as loud when he read about the baby and her "visiting" the manor. "Shit, shit, shit," he growled, ignoring the shocked look from Poppy's direction. "Madame Pomfrey, I need your help. Please, bring Dumb- er, Headmistress McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Ginny Weasley here right away. It's life and death." He kept his voice steady and serious, hoping to convince Poppy of the enormity of the situation.
Luckily, she seemed to accept his need and turned to hurry from the room, sending off the owl as she went. While it could be that the note was harmless, it seemed more than likely that Blaise was being held at Malfoy Manor, rather than visiting his mother, as the letter stated. What proof did David have of her loyalty?
Draco didn't have long to wait before McGonagall slipped into the curtained enclosure. "What is it, Draco?" He tossed the scroll to her, waiting as she read it. Her confusion turned to disapproval. "It's a letter, yes?"
"Davie is David Avery. Blaise and my mother don't get along. I think my cover's been blown wide open." He slumped back against the pillow on the bed, scowling at his hands.
"Do you think they had someone waiting for you in Verona? That was your cover, correct?" At Draco's curt nod, Minerva sunk to a seat on the end of the bed. "We shouldn't have kept you here for so long. If you showed up in Verona now, might there be a way to salvage your position? Or... might there be a way to come up with a cover story for your disappearance?"
He shook his head. "If I'd been gone a day... Damnit, I wonder if someone saw me at the Ministry riot?"
The curtains were shoved aside to admit Severus Snape, followed closely by Ginny Weasley. Draco caught sight of a dark glare from Ron, who was having a broken jaw attended to by Poppy, before the linen was jerked shut. Snape rounded on him immediately. "This had better be worth sending a class of Hufflepuffs back to their dormitories for, Draco."
"Blaise is being held at Malfoy Manor. Voldemort knows, Severus." Draco grabbed the parchment from McGonagall and offered it to Snape, who read it and gave a snarl.
"Are you going to find a way to get her out? You have to get her out, Malfoy, that's my niece or nephew she's pregnant with!" Ginny hissed, keeping quiet due to Ron's presence across the room.
"Draco, you can't go back in there. They'll kill you the moment they see your face," Snape sighed. "We can put together a rescue party, send them in on Sunday, when we'll be sure there are few Death Eaters present -"
"There are traps around the house. I know, I set most of them up. I can get in, I can lead her out — but I have to do it alone. Taking a large group would only inconvenience me." Draco rose to his feet, grabbing his wand from the bedside table. "I'll stay the night elsewhere and spend tomorrow gathering the tools I'll need. Is that satisfactory?"
Ginny opened her mouth to comment, then turned and fled the enclosure, leaving Snape and McGonagall staring after her in confusion. Draco could only smirk and hope. "Hmm, maybe she'll miss me when I'm gone?"
McGonagall shot a disapproving frown in his direction. "Draco, this really isn't a good idea."
"And sending a team of Aurors into the fire is? If they capture me, all they'll know is that Snape's a traitor. Wow! They already knew that! And that you've taken over Albus Dumbledore's role as spymaster for the Light? They may not know for sure, but they've guessed. If I'm lost, it's just one life. If I can get Blaise out, that's two saved. And it's the baby of your precious Gryffindor Weasley twin, how can you pass that up, Professor?" Draco yanked open the drawer of the bedside table, ignoring the hurt expression that flashed across the woman's face before being replaced with a mask of impassivity to rival Snape's best.
"That was entirely uncalled for, Draco."
"I'm an adult, you're an adult. I know your bias. I know what Albus' bias was. Don't try to hide it, Minerva McGonagall — I've spent too many years dealing with Voldemort to let the wool get pulled over my eyes." Draco finished cleaning the drawers. "I'm going down to the library. If you get a better idea, find me there. I'll likely have left the castle before nightfall." He touched his wand to his hair and shifted the color a pale brown, effectively hiding his identity, before storming off.
Snape chortled softly. "My, Minerva... he seemed brazen as a Gryffindor for just a moment, there." Minvera, for her part, gave a snort and stalked off as well, leaving Snape laughing uproariously in the presence of a confused — and most likely frightened — Ron Weasley.
A/N: Next time: Ron and Harry bicker, Ginny muses, and Draco chooses.
Role of Honour: smile7599 (I'm just not a Ron lover... especially after GoF. He's so mean to Harry! Well, that, and I've read Ebony's "Trouble in Paradise". Absolutely wonderful fanfic — Go read it! — but Ron's no angel... well, none of them are, in that fic...), ljp (Hold your horses, dearie. I'm a confessed D/G shipper. I'm not leaving them out. It'll just take a wee bit...), S.Maldiva (Yup! Thick plot! Thick as molasses! By the time I'm done with it, it'll be thick enough to make a spoon stand in — much like Dining Hall cuisine ::shudder::), The Perfect Drain (hopefully this chapter answered some of your questions), Swim Freak (Hehe. Lemon Curry. I had to... Monty Python references rock...), sunnycouger (Yup! Georgie the boxer! ::grin::), Karna (Indian! I want Masala! Mmmm... curry.... ::drool:: Oh, and Voldie isn't that stupid. Far from it... he knows EXACTLY what he's doing....), durendal (Thanks much! I love Blaise, too :) Too bad she won't be around for the whole story.)
