Okey-dokey, you know the drill. So, I won't waste your time today...not too much, anyway. Before I go, there's someone here who wants to say 'Hi'--Oh, yay! It's….Sombrero Harry! c|~8] Sort of…Anyhoo, he's stopped by to say, "Happy Cinco de Mayo, Amigas! Now let's go get wasted away in Margaritaville!" Gasp! Uh, oh, looks like someone's had one too many Butterbeers already…

Adios, for now! ~8]

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Disclaimers: What, do I look like J.K. Rowling? No. Therefore, I own nothing of hers. Comprendes? Bueno.

Chapter 18: (En Español!) Búsqueda y Rescate

It wasn't much later when Ron found himself before the Knight's statue for the second time that night. He tried to dampen his somber exterior and focus intently on the task at hand. The redhead was grateful, however, that this time they wouldn't have to pussyfoot around Filch if he happened upon them: they had Dumbledore's approval.

Hermione prodded around the statue as Harry had, searching for the 'entrance' as the three Weasleys looked on. Raising herself up on her toes to look inside the knight's helmet, she looked over her shoulder at Fred and George. "I thought you said you knew how open this thing?"

The twins looked at each other and shrugged. "Well, we're assuming it opens. We don't really know all the details," George explained. Hermione turned around to face the statue, hands on her hips. "Well, you know what happens when you assume…" she muttered under her breath. Before either of the twins could respond, she stepped back, shaking her head.

"I haven't the slightest clue. Maybe we should go ask Dumbledore--"

"No way, Hermione," Ron interrupted, "We told him we could handle this, and that's just what we're going to do." He then walked forward, and began to pry open the knight's breastplate. Several strained grunts later, the piece of metal still remained intact. "Oh, this thing'll open, alright," he commented sarcastically, "when muggles fly."

Fred then took a turn, rapping on the opening of the angular helmet. "Hullo? Anyone in there? Maybe we could just ask him to move--"

They were all startled upon hearing an unfamiliar voice, one rusted with age. "Oh, alright! But only if you ask nicely. I've 'ad just about enough o' you soddin' teenagers."

Jumping back with a cry, Fred searched the hallway surrounding them. "Um, alright. Could you please move…wherever you are…?"

Suddenly the sound of metal grating against itself erupted before them, the loud screeches echoing painfully throughout the corridor. The four Gryffindors covered their ears and gaped in amazement as the previously stationary statue of the knight came to life before their eyes. They took several steps back as it advanced, sword unsheathed and shield at the ready. It then stopped when it realized that its presence seemed rather frightful, and slid his long sword carefully within the metal sheath.

"Sorry 'bout that. It's been awhile, as you migh' imagine. Instincts took o'er, I suppose." The Knight then stood at attention, introducing himself. "Tasso MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald, at your service."

Tasso…?

Hermione shook the thought off before speaking on their behalf. "Um, yes…Tasso, was it? We're having a sort of a problem. Are you by any chance the guardian of a tunnel of some sorts?" A deep laugh erupted from the hollow of the armor. "Ah, you've discovered my secret, you 'ave. My congratulations and thanks t'you. My joints were gettin' to be awfully stiff from standing so long." The four shared a furtive glance when the Knight turned his back to them, facing the wall he had been positioned against.

Tasso then rubbed his metallic hands together briskly as he prepared himself, ignorant of the screeching sounds produced by the motion. "Right. That doorway's around 'ere…somewhere." He then began to press against each of the individual stones with burnished steel fingers, the action reminding Ron of how he had entered Diagon Alley on Floo Powder-less occasions. "Almost…nope, not tha' one…this one, perhaps? Nope, nope…"

George rolled his eyes, wandering if the archaic statue hadn't in fact lost his mind. Then again, he mused, there wasn't exactly a body present. Finally, the Knight rapped a fist on a particular stone. "There it is. Step back, now…"

With a shriek of metal the Knight unsheathed his sword again, and brought it high above his head. He plunged it into the stone on the wall with a forceful grunt, crushing the solid brick into dust. They saw a hazy light shoot out through the few cracks before the Knight drove his sword into the wall twice more. On the third try the wall before them collapsed inward, resulting in what resembled a roughly rectangular doorway.

"Well, there you 'ave it. I'd widen it a bit more, you understand, but I fear my strength's been gone some two 'undred years, now." It then stepped to the side, motioning toward the entrance with a steel hand.

Ron stepped forward apprehensively, peering within the gaping hole in the wall. Inside he could see a pale white light coming from some torches lining the corridor, rife with cobwebs and dust. He turned to Hermione, who stood in amazement behind him. "Ladies first?"

She gave him a lop-sided grin, shaking her head. "Not a chance."

Climbing over the rubble which rose to almost his full height, Ron jumped through nervously. Landing in a squat, he then turned to Hermione in order to help her down. Behind them Fred all but pushed George through first, then followed suit. "You four 'ave yourselves a good time, now!" the Knight called after them, "I'll just be standin' here…waiting for you to come back…take your time, really…"

Fred glanced over his shoulder nervously, hoping the Knight didn't decide to follow them. They soon rounded a corner, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Bit of a nutter, wasn't he?" he commented to George, who nodded slightly. "Mm, just a wee bit, yes."

As they walked on the light began to grow dimmer, until they each had to draw their wands and light them. Ron unfurled the Map in the meantime, checking their course. Noting this, George asked impatiently, "Are we there yet?" Ron smiled, shaking his head.

"Not even close. I'll be sure to let you know when we're near."

George sighed. "Well, I will admit that this is better than having to serve detention with McGonagall. It was less…dusty in her classroom, I have to say," he remarked, swatting at a cobweb that neared his face, "though not by much." With that Ron took a long, good look at the Map before he tucked it away, and lead the small party down the seemingly endless maze of corridors.

A few paces behind Ron, Hermione walked along only half-aware of where her feet were taking her. Inside she was numb, a pit of growing despair deep within her. Her only hope was that Draco would have any information on Harry's whereabouts…if they found him alive.

* * * * * *

Within the barren cell, Harry scooted himself into the nearest corner as the Death Eater neared. Suddenly the cloaked man disappeared, apparating back only moments later with Goyle by his side. Each withdrew wands from their respective robes, uttering "Lumos." Harry then saw the unlit candles that lined the cell walls flame to life when individually touched by the Death Eaters' wands. For some reason, creating a light source within the room didn't comfort Harry in the least bit.

He looked up as the Death Eaters encroached on his space, faces obscured by their cloak hoods. "I'm not afraid of you," he spoke defiantly, wondering himself just who he thought he was kidding. One of them laughed derisively.

"Oh, no? You'll feel much differently about that in just a little while, we'll make sure of it." He reached forward and tore off the sweater Harry wore, and then the overshirt, leaving only his T-shirt on underneath. "Can't have any extra padding, now can we?" They both chuckled, tossing the clothes aside. The same Death Eater then reached down and hefted Harry up by the front of his shirt, shoving the smaller figure against the wall as he held tight.

"All of this can be avoided if you'd simply accept the Dark Mark as your own."

"I'd rather die than become one of you," Harry spat in disgust.

The Death Eater, Crabbe, hissed menacingly into Harry's ear. "We'll just have to see if you're one to stand behind his convictions, won't we?"

Harry gritted his teeth as he shouted back in Crabbe's face. "I will not be broken by the likes of you. Not now, not EVER!"

Crabbe spun around and slammed Harry onto the floor. The Death Eater dropped to his knees beside him, shaking an angry finger at the younger wizard. "You bloody Gryffindors think you're so damned self-righteous--" Harry eyed the finger inches from his face, and in retaliation lunged forward and bit into it.

The larger man hissed in pain, his face twisted with livid anger behind the cloak. He brought his finger close for inspection, which was now indented with reddened incisor marks. With clenched teeth he addressed his partner, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "Hold him." Harry was hoisted up by the front of his shirt again onto his feet. From behind did Goyle pull him into a crushing embrace, arms like a vice atop his chest.

Harry scarcely had time to flinch before Crabbe rammed his clenched fist directly into the center of the boy's glasses, snapping the frame across the bridge of his nose. Once the two halves had clattered broken and mangled to the floor, he continued to hammer his knuckles repeatedly into Harry's face. Harry gasped in anguish when he felt his nose break, screaming when Crabbe backhanded him across it with his fist a moment later.

Once the Death Eater had stopped, he dismissively waved a hand towards his restrained captive. Goyle then removed his arms and stepped away, leaving Harry to crumple backwards. He gasped and sputtered when he felt blood trickling down the back of his throat, pooling in his gullet. Panic set in when Harry began to choke on it, unable to take in a decent breath of air without his lungs filling with the thick fluid. Once he got his senses back in order, he was allowed unheeded to roll over onto his side to spit it out. Wiping at his blood-flecked lips, Harry then felt himself being lifted up off the ground again, but not by human hands.

Goyle and Crabbe stood a few feet away from Harry as he was suspended in mid-air by Crabbe's wand. He hadn't even heard him command the spell, though he reckoned it was somewhere along the lines of 'Mobilicorpus.' He floated awkwardly, like a marionette being puppeteered without strings. Goyle approached, and even though Harry couldn't see him clearly, he heard the larger man giving his knuckles a good crack.

"Do me a favor, lad," Goyle asked, "and try not to lose consciousness. It's really quite impossible to hear you scream when you're out cold." With the first blow to his abdomen, Harry was surprised that he didn't go sailing across the room. Instead, he stayed right where he was, suspended nearly two feet off the floor as if he had been strung up by some invisible rope. He bit hard onto his bottom lip until it split open as he was punched in the kidneys, refusing to utter even a single sound for them. The longer he held out, the harder and faster Goyle's fists came. Rolling with the punches was soon realized to be a futile effort, Harry's movements too slow to deflect the blows. He even tried to kick his attacker in the face, but wasn't fast enough. After a few minutes of this Goyle stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion.

Harry's breath came in short, wheezing gasps, as he tried his best to curl up protectively in mid-air. As Harry fought to stay conscious, he felt Goyle squeeze an unforgiving hand around his throat and jerk him forward. Though his vision was blurred, even a blind man could tell the Death Eater was seething in anger.

"Why aren't you SCREAMING?!"

Harry said nothing and simply glared. Goyle then released his grip, belting him across the face with a fist. The hooded man then withdrew his wand, thrusting it deeply into the hollow of Harry's throat. Harry's breathing became more labored than it already was as his heart raced in fear.

Then, all in one breath, did Goyle shout, "Crucio! Crucio! CRUCIO!"

The Cruciatus Curses tore into Harry instantly, the agonizing pain wrenching his body into various contortions. Head thrown back, his shrieks reverberated deafeningly against the walls of his prison, no doubt making their way to Voldemort's ears. Although he thrashed about wildly in the air, he never once budged from where Crabbe's wand held him solidly in place. Only when the effects of the curse began to ebb could he hear the sounds of his heart-wrenching sobs, now mingling with the sharp ringing in his ears.

No sooner had he been able to suck in a gasping breath when the second of the curses began its course anew. Again Harry's body convulsed torturously, his wails more pitiful by the second. He managed to scream a few words to his torturers, but they fell upon deaf ears.

"NOT AGAIN! PLEASE!"

Harry wanted nothing more than to pass out, ram his head into the stone, or even die by the time the third curse picked up immediately after the last left off.

"NOOOOO!" After that, Harry had no more air left with which to scream. Simply trying to breathe was agony in itself, the convulsions rendering him asunder. Then, finally, the series of curses ended as Goyle's wand lowered. Harry was only aware of the hot tears clouding his vision even further, and the feeling of something warm and wet trickling from his ear. He saw Goyle clasp Crabbe heartily on the shoulder and give him a slight nod before finally exiting the cell.

Crabbe then raised his wand up suddenly, causing Harry to careen into the ceiling with a muffled cry. An instant later the wand was pulled away altogether. Already blinded by pain, Harry was thankfully unaware when he was dropped to the floor from twelve feet in the air, a few bones crunching sickeningly as he landed.

It was quite apparent to Harry in the instant before he passed out that neither Voldemort nor Death Eaters were going to hold anything back this time around.

* * * * * *

Within Hogwarts, a lone figure snuck about the Owlery quietly, not wishing to disturb the resting birds. Approaching a tawny, medium-sized owl chosen for its inconspicuous markings, the figure roused the bird from its near slumber with a gentle shake. With a low hoot it blinked open its eyes, piercing with curiosity those of the one who had woken it.

Ruffling the disgruntled owl's feathers calmed it down somewhat, and it then allowed without protest for a parchment to be fastened with a leather strand to its leg. Testing the security of the loose knot, the sender picked the winged creature up and carried it to the open window. The sense of urgency emanating from its sender was not lost on the owl as it prepared to take flight. With another hoot it was off, beating its wings silently against the gentle breeze.

Hands on the window sill, Dumbledore watched as the bird rose to greet the full moon before it sped off into the night. He could only pray that his call for help would be answered in time.

* * * * * *

Dong…

Dong…

Dong…

Hermione sighed softly as she counted out the rest of the late night bells, their chimes faintly echoing against the walls of the chamber she and the Weasleys were currently occupying. The Map had led them there after the four had wound their way through one corridor and tunnel after another, only to end up within an inner chamber roughly the size of the Gryffindor Common Room.

Even though the Map displayed both theirs and Draco's names nearly one atop the other, the latter was nowhere in sight.

"Draco? Draco? Can you hear us, Draco?" she called out to the otherwise empty room surrounding them.

"Oy, Malfoy! Where're you hiding? Maybe they walled him up alive--"

"George!"

"Alright, maybe he was already dead when they walled him up. Feel better?"

Hermione ignored this last comment, looking over Ron's shoulder to glance at the Map. "I don't understand," the youngest of the boys sighed, "he should be right here." To punctuate his words he pointed his finger at the empty space where Draco should have stood.

Fred glanced around the room, then cocked an eyebrow in confusion at the Map. "And it shows he's moving--reallllly sloooowly, but still moving. Only there's nowhere else to go." George began to circle the room, swiping and grasping at the empty air around him every so often. "Maybe he's wearing an Invisibility Cloak--"

Ron huffed in exasperation. "Even if he was, he'd have to be right here," he said, stamping his foot upon the floor.

As the three Weasleys continued to study the parchment, Hermione noticed something on the ground move from the corner of her eye. Bringing her attention to the floor, she watched the something move again, a small, minuscule creature she had never seen before.

Shaking his head, Ron scrutinized the Map with a sigh. "Maybe there's a hidden door, or something, that we'll find by pressing on some bricks," he shrugged, nodding at the wall. "It worked for the Knight--" Not quite paying attention to what her friend was saying, Hermione watched in horror as Ron raised his foot to take a step forward, the shadow of his boot hovering like an eclipse over the small entity…

She had only time to gasp before she propelled herself forward, shoving Ron backwards quite forcefully. "Hermione--!" He landed in a heap within Fred's arms, who quickly hoisted him aside. "I've told you before, Ron, you're not my type--" He was interrupted by George's hand atop his shoulder, who gave it a slight squeeze.

"What, and you are?" Fred's laughter was cut short as he met his brother's eyes, fixed with fascination upon the ground near where Ron's foot had been. Fred turned to stare as well, his eyes slowly growing wide in disbelief.

Whatever Ron had been about to step was picked up and placed on Hermione's outstretched palm. With a bewildered yet amazed expression she brought her hand forward to give the Weasleys a better look. All three gasped, not quite believing their eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," George grinned with a surprised laugh.

"I wouldn't believe it if I weren't here looking at it," Fred remarked in amazement.

Ron only squinted in confusion. "How in the hell did that happen?!"

The dumfounded expressions gracing the countenances of the four friends was quite easily understandable, for standing rather unsteadily atop Hermione's palm was a two-inch tall and equally shocked Draco Malfoy.

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Ah, the plot thickens…Muah-ha-ha-ha-haaaaa…and so does the gratuitous use of ellipses……….

And an explanatory note, if you will: I'm not really sure if glasses do in fact break that easily when hit, as I'm not about to do "research" and ask a complete stranger to punch me right 'tween the eyes to find out. You'll just have to take the word of the all impotent, I mean, omnipotent author on this…unless anyone has had first-hand experience, that is.

And gracias mucho for the reviews! SIXTY! Ay Carumba! ~8] Oh, and the title? Its translation is "Search and Rescue." See? It would have been too obvious in plain old ingles, so, I've done gone and wrote it in es-pan-ol.

Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Je suis le Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Mel! c|~8]