Chapter 8
The silvery moon filtered weirdly through the thick, warped glass of the window in Harry's room. He guessed that it was near midnight, judging from the silence of the house around him. The only sound was the rain pattering on the roof-how high above him was it, he wondered. It had been raining now for five days straight-he had begun to wonder if it was some weather spell put in effect by Malfoy, or Voldemort, or someone else, for no reason more than to dampen his spirits as easily as the earth outside.
Ever since he'd heard Narcissa and Isabel talking-long after he'd figured as much of the message out as he could-he had tried to find out who Isabel was. He'd even gone so far as to mention her casually to Narcissa, one rare occasion when she brought his breakfast tray into the room herself, instead of simply magicking it in at the appropriate time. Narcissa had gone paper- white, glared at him through cold grey eyes, and left without another word.
Several times Harry had attempted to keep a key-hole vigil, to watch for any passers-by whose appearance fitted Isabel's voice, but the key-hole was so small and the hall outside so large that it was quite hopeless.
Now he lay, staring at the moon, thinking of the horrid days he'd spent in the Malfoy Manor. Was it one month? Two? He could not remember exactly when he had been caught-it was that terrible day in Knockturn Alley, that was all he could remember-and he couldn't tell what the current date was, either. He knew only that it was well into the month of November, and this only because the first snowfall had covered the Malfoy grounds with a thick blanket of grey snow only two days before. Even the snow, white and sparkling at Hogwarts School, was dismal and grey here.
"Find Is."
Harry started and sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses. Surreptitiously he slid off the four-poster bed and, as his heart began to beat faster, lifted the skirt.
Why he'd expected to find the owner of the strange, murmuring voice there, he couldn't say-except for the fact that it had seemed to come from quite near, if not actually from, Harry. In any case, the carpet underneath was just as bare as ever, except for a few dust-bunnies that had formed in the corners.
Shaking slightly, he climbed back into bed as if he expected the owner of the voice to be in it. After he'd sat for several more minutes, collecting his scattered wits, he said softly, "Find is? What's is? Who're you?"
There was no answer, and Harry scolded himself fiercely for talking to a disembodied voice muttering nonsense phrases. He shut his eyes firmly, and fell asleep.
"Is-Is. Where are you? Is!"
Harry woke once more in a cold sweat. Is, what is is? He thought groggily. He didn't realize he'd said it aloud until the disembodied voice answered. Not answered, he amended, but-talked again.
"Is-must find you. Trouble-terrible trouble has come. Must-get you out. Is, where are you? Is!"
The voice was beginning to sound vaguely familiar, although Harry could not yet place it. "What is is?" he asked again, louder.
"Is?" the voice said in surprise, as if noticing Harry's question for the first time. "Do you know where Is is?"
Harry blew out his breath in exasperation. "No, I don't," he said crossly. "Since I don't even know what is is, how could I know where it was?"
"Not it-she. Is, short for-pain, terrible pain. I cannot speak for the pain- ,"
The voice began to breathe in harsh, ragged gasps. Now Harry was beginning to think that there was someone else in the room with him, and his skin began to crawl.
"What pain?" he asked cautiously, and then, "Who are you, anyway? Who's Is?"
"You know me, boy-you've seen me-oh, Is, where are you?" the person gave a wretched sob.
"You aren't-," Harry began, and then stopped.
"I'm not who?" the person stopped ranting about Is long enough to ask.
"Not-not Mr. Danady, are you?"
"Of course I am," the voice said. "Now will you help me find Is?"
"I can't help you find Is or anyone else if you don't come out and show me that you're really who you are," Harry said crossly.
"Well-all right, then."
To his horror, a hand began to edge its way out from under the bed, followed by another, and then a man's head. Soon Danady stood before him, looking much worse than when he had stood behind Lucius Malfoy and watched him torture Harry. His thick black hair was disheveled; his eyes were bloodshot and tear filled.
Harry stifled the urge to scream. Danady seemed to sense this, for he croaked hoarsely, "You're wondering where I came from, aren't you?"
Harry nodded, unsure of what to say.
"I need water-then I will tell you."
Soft footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and Harry pushed Danady under the bed once more, hissing "I'll get you water-just a minute-,"
A moment later the door opened, though no light filled the room. Harry could hardly see the figure outlined in the doorway, had no idea who it was- all he could see was thick, dark hair falling to her waist.
Harry was frozen to the spot in fear; scared that whoever it was had heard him conversing with the fugitive.
The woman did not speak, but silently padded into the room. She held an unlit candle, Harry now noticed, and her wand was clutched tightly in the other hand. As soon as she was far enough in she shoved the door closed once more with her foot, and the faint light that had come from the hallway receded until the room was completely dark.
"Who-who are you?" Harry asked finally, as the woman made no other move. It wasn't Narcissa, that was sure-and thank goodness, he thought in relief.
The woman prodded her candle with her wand, and a small, flickering flame took life on the wick. As it illuminated the stranger, Harry saw that she had finely cut features and large, infinitely dark eyes staring out of a gold-skinned face.
"My name-my name is Isabel Garcia," she whispered. Harry gave a start-this was Isabel, who he had heard talking to Narcissa just the other day.
Harry swallowed, remembering the nasty way she had laughed as Narcissa talked of the terror at Hogwarts. "What d'you want?" he asked, louder than he meant to.
"Ssh!" Isabel cast a frightened look around, as if the walls themselves could hear her. "Do not speak loudly-my brother-in-law will not be happy if he finds me here."
"Your brother in law?" Harry asked incredulously. "You can't mean Lucius Malfoy, can you?"
Isabel nodded. "Yes, I do mean Lucius," she said with a tone of contempt. As she made no more move to speak, Harry asked her what she had come for once more.
"I-I'm seeking my-my husband. He disappeared some time ago, and did not leave word. I-I've a reason to believe that he's-that you're hiding him."
Harry, who had begun to soften towards the frightened woman, clammed up once more. "I don't know who you mean," he said stiffly. "Now, could you please go out and let me sleep?" he turned over and lay down, hoping she would take the hint.
"But-please," Isabel began, a note of desperation in her voice. "I must find him, before I lea-before it is too late."
"Who?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of caution.
"My husband-oh, please don't give us away. He's-Arrlimon Mal-I mean, Arrlimon Danady," Isabel stammered. "Have you seen him? Oh, have you seen him?"
Harry watched her distrustfully. Finally he asked, "Are you Is?"
Isabel looked startled for a moment, and then the ghost of a smile flitted across her frightened face. "Yes," she said softly, "That's what he used to call me."
A tear dropped onto the candle flame, making it sputter horribly, casting Isabel's face into the shadows.
"I think I can help," Harry said decisively, "If you are Is."
"I am," Isabel said, nodding hopefully.
"Mr. Danady," Harry called softly, "You can come out."
For a moment nothing happened, but then Danady materialized in the corner of the room farthest from the window. A silvery invisibility cloak flowed around his feet, but he paid no attention to it as he gave a startled cry and ran across the room to where Isabel stood.
"Is," he croaked. He held her hands tightly, after placing the sputtering candle gently on the windowsill.
"Arrlimon," she whispered, and then turned to Harry. "Thank you," she said simply. "Thank you for not reporting me-us. If Lucius had found out-,"
She shuddered. Danady let go her hands and came to where Harry sat on the bed.
"Er.sit down," Harry said awkwardly.
Danady sat slowly at the foot of the bed, and Isabel came to alight beside him. "You deserve an explanation," she said to Harry. "We must go soon, before our noise is heard. But before that-ask us anything, we-I, at least- will try to answer."
Danady nodded.
"Er." Harry paused, thinking. "Why are you both here? I thought you were Malfoy's sister, Mrs. Danady-,"
"Please, call me Isabel," she said warmly.
"Isabel," Harry amended. "Anyway, I thought you were Lucius Malfoy's sister?"
"No," Danady said. "I am his brother."
Harry gaped at him. "You-then why-,"
Danady smiled thinly. "Why was he after me?"
Harry nodded.
"Because he figured it out, I suppose." A weary expression had settled on Danady's face. "After he-after I stopped him performing the Cruciatus curse again, he began to get suspicious. He turned on me after you left."
Danady shuddered uncontrollably. Isabel squeezed his hand reassuringly, as if to say Go on-no one will turn you in.
Taking control of himself once more, Danady continued his narrative, his voice bleak and desolate. "When he had finished he left me-for dead. I was deeply unconscious, could not move, could not think. When I woke it was dark, and the moon had gone behind a cloud. In the utter darkness I stumbled up the many flights of stairs to the only trustworthy person I knew of-Harry Potter, the Malfoy hostage.
"I'm sorry to have caused you all that trouble, Harry," he added. "Really I am. I didn't realize at the time what would happen."
"Er.it's all right," Harry said awkwardly.
Danady hung his head. "No, it's not," he whispered. "I'll make it up to you somehow."
Harry turned red. "No, really," he said. "You don't have to."
"But I will," Danady insisted. "I don't know what I can do, but I'm sure I'll find a way-,"
"Mr. Danady," Harry said suddenly to change the subject. "When you came in I dragged you under my bed, but you weren't there-not even under that Invisibility cloak-when Malfoy and his gang looked. Where'd you go?"
"I wasn't really unconscious, just fatigued," Danady replied. "I Apparated to a safe location, and spent a day there until I hoped the suspicion would clear. Then, not wanting to put the friends I was staying with in a dangerous position, I Apparated back here and wandered around under the cloak, stealing meager amounts of food and water to live by.
"But I haven't been myself these two weeks," he concluded. "In fact, I hardly remember any of it-I think I wasn't quite in my right mind, and I was set on finding Is to take her away from here. But even when I saw her, I dared not approach her-I was afraid she wouldn't want to go, that she had accepted the way of life here."
Isabel shook her head violently. "I could never do that," she whispered passionately. "The ways of life are-terrible here."
"Mrs. Dana-Isabel," Harry asked, "I heard you-well, I heard you talking to Mrs. Malfoy the other day and, if you don't mind my saying so, you sounded like you agreed." Harry reddened as he said it so bluntly, but Isabel nodded, her face tight.
"I can see why you'd ask that, Harry," she said consideringly. "I-when Arrlimon was sent here, I couldn't help but follow-this was several years ago. Of course, none of the household knew of our marriage, so we masqueraded as Arrlimon Danady-Lucius and Narcissa were the only ones who knew the truth about Arrlimon, that he was a Malfoy-and I as Isabel Cortez, a Spanish Dark-supporter of sorts. Thankfully, I was accepted without another thought."
"Wait, before you go on," Harry broke in. "What did you mean-"When Arrlimon was sent here?" That doesn't make sense. Sent here? By whom? For what? And when did he leave, and when did he change his name?"
Isabel smiled. "I see I am leaving a lot out," she admitted. "I will try to answer your questions before I continue.
"To your first: Arrlimon was sent here by the Head of the Aurors, whose name I cannot say for fear we should be overheard. I'll come back to that in just a moment.
"Next I'll have to answer your last question-when did he leave, and when did he change his name from Malfoy to Danady.
"Arrlimon, bless him, never quite agreed with the ways of his family, although he didn't show it. He tried valiantly to be passed off as just another Voldemort-supporter among his family, and even got himself sorted into Slytherin house at Hogwarts, but inside he knew it was wrong." Isabel smiled fondly at Danady and then continued.
"We met in his last year at Hogwarts. I was an exchange student for my seventh and final year at school, and we met and fell in love. Of course no one could know-I vehemently and openly opposed the Dark Lord and his supporters. That was what made it hard for me to pass off as a Dark- supporter here-I had to change my name and my attitude before Narcissa would accept me.
"When Arrlimon and I graduated, he left his family and we were married-and then he began the rigorous Auror's training. It was nightmarish-the horrible missions he'd be sent on to test his courage and endurance, while I waited at home for him to return-fearing all the while that he might not.
"Finally, though, it got better: he completed his training, and began the steady rise to one of the top Aurors in Britain. Now he'd be gone frequently, but I could rest more easily knowing that he had the skill to deal with the situations he was placed in. And then, five months ago, the Head Auror called on us one day with another, more dangerous and more time consuming request.
"He asked that both of us-not just Arrlimon-return to the Malfoy manor, not as a couple but as two Dark-supporters, and at different times. He feared that there was a plot hatching, and he asked us to watch for it. We agreed, and Arrlimon set off that day to re-establish family connections, but under the Auror name he had assumed: Danady.
"And here I come back to when we arrived. Arrlimon, thank goodness, was accepted quickly-he had only to present Lucius and Narcissa with false "evidence" of his Dark workings. I, arriving a month and a half later, was also taken in to the inner circle without question." She sighed. "Truly, all you need here is to present someone with proof of innocents you've murdered, and-," she shuddered.
"We, Arrlimon and I, had to become somewhat callous to survive here," she resumed. "We stood by and watched horrible deeds happening-tortures, murders, and more-without the power to interfere, or at least not yet. You must see," she said beseechingly, "We could not help those poor people-if we did then we would have put the whole wizarding world at stake by revealing our identity. There are ways to worm information out of even one so closemouthed as a top Auror. Do you see, Harry, why we had to do it?"
Harry nodded, his face drawn as he listened to Isabel recount her horrible story.
"What's more than that, we had to pretend to agree-there were even times when we had to suggest. Those were the worst." Her face wore a mask of agony, and she choked out the words now-it was evident that she hadn't liked the tasks assigned to her.
"That was why," she finally said, with effort, "Arrlimon made the first moves in the garden. Lucius is very perceptive-he would've guessed, had he seen you, that Arrlimon had seen you first-even if he hadn't. And then we would both have been discovered.
"Yet he couldn't bear to watch what Lucius did to you," she continued bravely, "And he-he knocked away the wand. Panicking, he made up an excuse about the Cruciatus curse being too powerful-but Lucius saw through it, and guessed what he didn't already know."
"You know the story from there," Danady said gently. "But-there is something that you do not know."
"First," Harry said, remembering something from Isabel's conversation with Narcissa, "Who is Christof?"
Isabel smiled. "Christof is our son," she said. "A second-year at Hogwarts. He shares are views, and he, like his father, managed to be sorted into Slytherin and befriended Draco Malfoy. He is a very brave boy, for he must keep up his guard always so that Draco won't suspect."
"Oh," said Harry. "Now-what were you saying before?"
But before either of them could begin, more footsteps-loud ones this time- sounded outside. "Go," Harry whispered frantically. "Go, now, Apparate!" A moment later, they had gone, and Harry scrambled to hide the Invisibility cloak Danady had accidentally left behind. The footsteps, however, receded along the hallway-obviously not headed towards his bedroom.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and lay back on the pillows, thinking on what Isabel and Danady had told him.
The silvery moon filtered weirdly through the thick, warped glass of the window in Harry's room. He guessed that it was near midnight, judging from the silence of the house around him. The only sound was the rain pattering on the roof-how high above him was it, he wondered. It had been raining now for five days straight-he had begun to wonder if it was some weather spell put in effect by Malfoy, or Voldemort, or someone else, for no reason more than to dampen his spirits as easily as the earth outside.
Ever since he'd heard Narcissa and Isabel talking-long after he'd figured as much of the message out as he could-he had tried to find out who Isabel was. He'd even gone so far as to mention her casually to Narcissa, one rare occasion when she brought his breakfast tray into the room herself, instead of simply magicking it in at the appropriate time. Narcissa had gone paper- white, glared at him through cold grey eyes, and left without another word.
Several times Harry had attempted to keep a key-hole vigil, to watch for any passers-by whose appearance fitted Isabel's voice, but the key-hole was so small and the hall outside so large that it was quite hopeless.
Now he lay, staring at the moon, thinking of the horrid days he'd spent in the Malfoy Manor. Was it one month? Two? He could not remember exactly when he had been caught-it was that terrible day in Knockturn Alley, that was all he could remember-and he couldn't tell what the current date was, either. He knew only that it was well into the month of November, and this only because the first snowfall had covered the Malfoy grounds with a thick blanket of grey snow only two days before. Even the snow, white and sparkling at Hogwarts School, was dismal and grey here.
"Find Is."
Harry started and sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses. Surreptitiously he slid off the four-poster bed and, as his heart began to beat faster, lifted the skirt.
Why he'd expected to find the owner of the strange, murmuring voice there, he couldn't say-except for the fact that it had seemed to come from quite near, if not actually from, Harry. In any case, the carpet underneath was just as bare as ever, except for a few dust-bunnies that had formed in the corners.
Shaking slightly, he climbed back into bed as if he expected the owner of the voice to be in it. After he'd sat for several more minutes, collecting his scattered wits, he said softly, "Find is? What's is? Who're you?"
There was no answer, and Harry scolded himself fiercely for talking to a disembodied voice muttering nonsense phrases. He shut his eyes firmly, and fell asleep.
"Is-Is. Where are you? Is!"
Harry woke once more in a cold sweat. Is, what is is? He thought groggily. He didn't realize he'd said it aloud until the disembodied voice answered. Not answered, he amended, but-talked again.
"Is-must find you. Trouble-terrible trouble has come. Must-get you out. Is, where are you? Is!"
The voice was beginning to sound vaguely familiar, although Harry could not yet place it. "What is is?" he asked again, louder.
"Is?" the voice said in surprise, as if noticing Harry's question for the first time. "Do you know where Is is?"
Harry blew out his breath in exasperation. "No, I don't," he said crossly. "Since I don't even know what is is, how could I know where it was?"
"Not it-she. Is, short for-pain, terrible pain. I cannot speak for the pain- ,"
The voice began to breathe in harsh, ragged gasps. Now Harry was beginning to think that there was someone else in the room with him, and his skin began to crawl.
"What pain?" he asked cautiously, and then, "Who are you, anyway? Who's Is?"
"You know me, boy-you've seen me-oh, Is, where are you?" the person gave a wretched sob.
"You aren't-," Harry began, and then stopped.
"I'm not who?" the person stopped ranting about Is long enough to ask.
"Not-not Mr. Danady, are you?"
"Of course I am," the voice said. "Now will you help me find Is?"
"I can't help you find Is or anyone else if you don't come out and show me that you're really who you are," Harry said crossly.
"Well-all right, then."
To his horror, a hand began to edge its way out from under the bed, followed by another, and then a man's head. Soon Danady stood before him, looking much worse than when he had stood behind Lucius Malfoy and watched him torture Harry. His thick black hair was disheveled; his eyes were bloodshot and tear filled.
Harry stifled the urge to scream. Danady seemed to sense this, for he croaked hoarsely, "You're wondering where I came from, aren't you?"
Harry nodded, unsure of what to say.
"I need water-then I will tell you."
Soft footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and Harry pushed Danady under the bed once more, hissing "I'll get you water-just a minute-,"
A moment later the door opened, though no light filled the room. Harry could hardly see the figure outlined in the doorway, had no idea who it was- all he could see was thick, dark hair falling to her waist.
Harry was frozen to the spot in fear; scared that whoever it was had heard him conversing with the fugitive.
The woman did not speak, but silently padded into the room. She held an unlit candle, Harry now noticed, and her wand was clutched tightly in the other hand. As soon as she was far enough in she shoved the door closed once more with her foot, and the faint light that had come from the hallway receded until the room was completely dark.
"Who-who are you?" Harry asked finally, as the woman made no other move. It wasn't Narcissa, that was sure-and thank goodness, he thought in relief.
The woman prodded her candle with her wand, and a small, flickering flame took life on the wick. As it illuminated the stranger, Harry saw that she had finely cut features and large, infinitely dark eyes staring out of a gold-skinned face.
"My name-my name is Isabel Garcia," she whispered. Harry gave a start-this was Isabel, who he had heard talking to Narcissa just the other day.
Harry swallowed, remembering the nasty way she had laughed as Narcissa talked of the terror at Hogwarts. "What d'you want?" he asked, louder than he meant to.
"Ssh!" Isabel cast a frightened look around, as if the walls themselves could hear her. "Do not speak loudly-my brother-in-law will not be happy if he finds me here."
"Your brother in law?" Harry asked incredulously. "You can't mean Lucius Malfoy, can you?"
Isabel nodded. "Yes, I do mean Lucius," she said with a tone of contempt. As she made no more move to speak, Harry asked her what she had come for once more.
"I-I'm seeking my-my husband. He disappeared some time ago, and did not leave word. I-I've a reason to believe that he's-that you're hiding him."
Harry, who had begun to soften towards the frightened woman, clammed up once more. "I don't know who you mean," he said stiffly. "Now, could you please go out and let me sleep?" he turned over and lay down, hoping she would take the hint.
"But-please," Isabel began, a note of desperation in her voice. "I must find him, before I lea-before it is too late."
"Who?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of caution.
"My husband-oh, please don't give us away. He's-Arrlimon Mal-I mean, Arrlimon Danady," Isabel stammered. "Have you seen him? Oh, have you seen him?"
Harry watched her distrustfully. Finally he asked, "Are you Is?"
Isabel looked startled for a moment, and then the ghost of a smile flitted across her frightened face. "Yes," she said softly, "That's what he used to call me."
A tear dropped onto the candle flame, making it sputter horribly, casting Isabel's face into the shadows.
"I think I can help," Harry said decisively, "If you are Is."
"I am," Isabel said, nodding hopefully.
"Mr. Danady," Harry called softly, "You can come out."
For a moment nothing happened, but then Danady materialized in the corner of the room farthest from the window. A silvery invisibility cloak flowed around his feet, but he paid no attention to it as he gave a startled cry and ran across the room to where Isabel stood.
"Is," he croaked. He held her hands tightly, after placing the sputtering candle gently on the windowsill.
"Arrlimon," she whispered, and then turned to Harry. "Thank you," she said simply. "Thank you for not reporting me-us. If Lucius had found out-,"
She shuddered. Danady let go her hands and came to where Harry sat on the bed.
"Er.sit down," Harry said awkwardly.
Danady sat slowly at the foot of the bed, and Isabel came to alight beside him. "You deserve an explanation," she said to Harry. "We must go soon, before our noise is heard. But before that-ask us anything, we-I, at least- will try to answer."
Danady nodded.
"Er." Harry paused, thinking. "Why are you both here? I thought you were Malfoy's sister, Mrs. Danady-,"
"Please, call me Isabel," she said warmly.
"Isabel," Harry amended. "Anyway, I thought you were Lucius Malfoy's sister?"
"No," Danady said. "I am his brother."
Harry gaped at him. "You-then why-,"
Danady smiled thinly. "Why was he after me?"
Harry nodded.
"Because he figured it out, I suppose." A weary expression had settled on Danady's face. "After he-after I stopped him performing the Cruciatus curse again, he began to get suspicious. He turned on me after you left."
Danady shuddered uncontrollably. Isabel squeezed his hand reassuringly, as if to say Go on-no one will turn you in.
Taking control of himself once more, Danady continued his narrative, his voice bleak and desolate. "When he had finished he left me-for dead. I was deeply unconscious, could not move, could not think. When I woke it was dark, and the moon had gone behind a cloud. In the utter darkness I stumbled up the many flights of stairs to the only trustworthy person I knew of-Harry Potter, the Malfoy hostage.
"I'm sorry to have caused you all that trouble, Harry," he added. "Really I am. I didn't realize at the time what would happen."
"Er.it's all right," Harry said awkwardly.
Danady hung his head. "No, it's not," he whispered. "I'll make it up to you somehow."
Harry turned red. "No, really," he said. "You don't have to."
"But I will," Danady insisted. "I don't know what I can do, but I'm sure I'll find a way-,"
"Mr. Danady," Harry said suddenly to change the subject. "When you came in I dragged you under my bed, but you weren't there-not even under that Invisibility cloak-when Malfoy and his gang looked. Where'd you go?"
"I wasn't really unconscious, just fatigued," Danady replied. "I Apparated to a safe location, and spent a day there until I hoped the suspicion would clear. Then, not wanting to put the friends I was staying with in a dangerous position, I Apparated back here and wandered around under the cloak, stealing meager amounts of food and water to live by.
"But I haven't been myself these two weeks," he concluded. "In fact, I hardly remember any of it-I think I wasn't quite in my right mind, and I was set on finding Is to take her away from here. But even when I saw her, I dared not approach her-I was afraid she wouldn't want to go, that she had accepted the way of life here."
Isabel shook her head violently. "I could never do that," she whispered passionately. "The ways of life are-terrible here."
"Mrs. Dana-Isabel," Harry asked, "I heard you-well, I heard you talking to Mrs. Malfoy the other day and, if you don't mind my saying so, you sounded like you agreed." Harry reddened as he said it so bluntly, but Isabel nodded, her face tight.
"I can see why you'd ask that, Harry," she said consideringly. "I-when Arrlimon was sent here, I couldn't help but follow-this was several years ago. Of course, none of the household knew of our marriage, so we masqueraded as Arrlimon Danady-Lucius and Narcissa were the only ones who knew the truth about Arrlimon, that he was a Malfoy-and I as Isabel Cortez, a Spanish Dark-supporter of sorts. Thankfully, I was accepted without another thought."
"Wait, before you go on," Harry broke in. "What did you mean-"When Arrlimon was sent here?" That doesn't make sense. Sent here? By whom? For what? And when did he leave, and when did he change his name?"
Isabel smiled. "I see I am leaving a lot out," she admitted. "I will try to answer your questions before I continue.
"To your first: Arrlimon was sent here by the Head of the Aurors, whose name I cannot say for fear we should be overheard. I'll come back to that in just a moment.
"Next I'll have to answer your last question-when did he leave, and when did he change his name from Malfoy to Danady.
"Arrlimon, bless him, never quite agreed with the ways of his family, although he didn't show it. He tried valiantly to be passed off as just another Voldemort-supporter among his family, and even got himself sorted into Slytherin house at Hogwarts, but inside he knew it was wrong." Isabel smiled fondly at Danady and then continued.
"We met in his last year at Hogwarts. I was an exchange student for my seventh and final year at school, and we met and fell in love. Of course no one could know-I vehemently and openly opposed the Dark Lord and his supporters. That was what made it hard for me to pass off as a Dark- supporter here-I had to change my name and my attitude before Narcissa would accept me.
"When Arrlimon and I graduated, he left his family and we were married-and then he began the rigorous Auror's training. It was nightmarish-the horrible missions he'd be sent on to test his courage and endurance, while I waited at home for him to return-fearing all the while that he might not.
"Finally, though, it got better: he completed his training, and began the steady rise to one of the top Aurors in Britain. Now he'd be gone frequently, but I could rest more easily knowing that he had the skill to deal with the situations he was placed in. And then, five months ago, the Head Auror called on us one day with another, more dangerous and more time consuming request.
"He asked that both of us-not just Arrlimon-return to the Malfoy manor, not as a couple but as two Dark-supporters, and at different times. He feared that there was a plot hatching, and he asked us to watch for it. We agreed, and Arrlimon set off that day to re-establish family connections, but under the Auror name he had assumed: Danady.
"And here I come back to when we arrived. Arrlimon, thank goodness, was accepted quickly-he had only to present Lucius and Narcissa with false "evidence" of his Dark workings. I, arriving a month and a half later, was also taken in to the inner circle without question." She sighed. "Truly, all you need here is to present someone with proof of innocents you've murdered, and-," she shuddered.
"We, Arrlimon and I, had to become somewhat callous to survive here," she resumed. "We stood by and watched horrible deeds happening-tortures, murders, and more-without the power to interfere, or at least not yet. You must see," she said beseechingly, "We could not help those poor people-if we did then we would have put the whole wizarding world at stake by revealing our identity. There are ways to worm information out of even one so closemouthed as a top Auror. Do you see, Harry, why we had to do it?"
Harry nodded, his face drawn as he listened to Isabel recount her horrible story.
"What's more than that, we had to pretend to agree-there were even times when we had to suggest. Those were the worst." Her face wore a mask of agony, and she choked out the words now-it was evident that she hadn't liked the tasks assigned to her.
"That was why," she finally said, with effort, "Arrlimon made the first moves in the garden. Lucius is very perceptive-he would've guessed, had he seen you, that Arrlimon had seen you first-even if he hadn't. And then we would both have been discovered.
"Yet he couldn't bear to watch what Lucius did to you," she continued bravely, "And he-he knocked away the wand. Panicking, he made up an excuse about the Cruciatus curse being too powerful-but Lucius saw through it, and guessed what he didn't already know."
"You know the story from there," Danady said gently. "But-there is something that you do not know."
"First," Harry said, remembering something from Isabel's conversation with Narcissa, "Who is Christof?"
Isabel smiled. "Christof is our son," she said. "A second-year at Hogwarts. He shares are views, and he, like his father, managed to be sorted into Slytherin and befriended Draco Malfoy. He is a very brave boy, for he must keep up his guard always so that Draco won't suspect."
"Oh," said Harry. "Now-what were you saying before?"
But before either of them could begin, more footsteps-loud ones this time- sounded outside. "Go," Harry whispered frantically. "Go, now, Apparate!" A moment later, they had gone, and Harry scrambled to hide the Invisibility cloak Danady had accidentally left behind. The footsteps, however, receded along the hallway-obviously not headed towards his bedroom.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and lay back on the pillows, thinking on what Isabel and Danady had told him.