It was true what they say. It takes losing it all to make you value the things you have in life. Now, years after the event he was still having nightmares of the fucking year he had spent caught between two worlds. An existence of his own making, a personal hell that had been created by those bastards to torment and break him.
Looking back at his capture he could only wonder what made him believe the lies they spouted. But then his all consuming grief had overtaken him and everything seemed so real.
Those awful looks, the pitying eyes and those damned condolences. They had acted as if one small touch or wrong word would bring him off the edge. He could still remember all the apologies, the words intertwining with snatches of memories.
We're sorry to inform you...
It couldn't have been helped. I'm sorry. If we had gotten wind of it in time maybe we could have...
We couldn't reach you. Please understand, you've been in incommunicado for weeks. There was no way to get to you in time...
And Harry's voice, dripping in sympathy, telling him that he would deal with it, telling him that the pain would ebb with time. But he didn't want to deal with it. His whole world had been snatched away from him and he couldn't see any way out of the darkness that he felt. And then Harry had to go on to say it wasn't as bad as it felt. It was as bad and worse. Ron could remember thinking how the hell would Harry know what he was going through and it was at that moment that he realized that Harry did know. Harry had lost everybody that he loved, but what was different from Harry and Ron was that Ron had friends -- what were remain of them to help him through it.
But he had been too consumed with the pain and his grief to care about his friends good intentions. Suddenly, without warning, everything he knew and loved was gone. Noting else mattered. Nothing.
He had immersed in his sorrows, wallowing in booze and anything else to take the pain away. He had isolated himself and retreated, not caring about anything anymore. What was the point? He had nothing to fight for anymore. His friends, his family, his beautiful wife...they were the reason he fought. Without them there was no reason to even care who lived or died. Not when he wanted to die himself.
The limbo he had been in ended, eleven months, twenty-eight days later, nearly a year he had spent there. How he had gotten out was a blur in his memory. He had been pretty doped up during that time. All he had now were flashed that came to him every one in a while, but he had no definite memories of his time at Faugwa.
After he had gotten out he had pretended that it was the Grey Dragon who had been the one to save him. It was as plausible as any other explanation of his escape. The Gregon was his favorite hero after all. With no hard facts about his rescue escape from Harry of from his memories he was free to believe in whatever he wished. After all, there was no one to tell him false, was there?
He wanted to say that his time spent at Faugwa hadn't changed him, that he was still the same Ron as he was before. God knows his friends and family had gone out of their way to make sure they didn't treat him any differently. But the problem with that was that it did change him. It made him realize how he felt about the people closest to him and how much more he hated Malfoy. His capture was pure Malfoy -- only he could have thought of something like that.
But now, knowing what he knew...
And now he didn't know what to think. The man to be his savior and the man who was responsible for the year in hell was one in the same. How the hell do you reconcile the two of them?! He really didn't know.
It was annoying to fell so conflicted all the time. To deal with one issue only to have another pop up demanding attention. It was times like these that made Ron long for the simpler days when Harry was good and Malfoy bad, You-Know-Who evil and afraid of Dumbledore. Now it seems like that good weren't so good, the bad not really that bad after all, but still bad. Just thinking about it made his head spin -- even more so than it was at the moment.
Ron breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. The gentle rocking of the boat was something he could do without. His stomach was still on the fritz and his head felt as if it had been slowly filling with air and was about to explode under the pressure. He didn't want to leave the comfort of the sofa but he knew he had to talk to Harry -- figuring out this dilemma was going to need more than his thoughts on the matter.
Cautiously he sat up, carefully not to move too suddenly in case of another bout of vertigo should over take him. He turned his body and then maneuvered his legs over the side of the couch until his feet were firmly on the floor. Ron got up, holding his arms out to steady himself. When he stilled, he still didn't feel to steady on his feet.
Unsteadily he wobbled his way towards the door to the outside. He had hoped that Reynard would pay him no attention but it wasn't that way. Just as he was about three paces from the door he heard Reynard's beckoning voice.
"Hey! Weasley is it?"
Ron paused and turned. The craggy man was staring at him expectantly. "Yeah," Ron answered.
"You going out?"
Ron rolled his eyes. Why does he have to involve himself? He had heard the talk between the older man and Harry. He knew about Reynard's history and while he didn't mind that he was practically a Muggle-born -- his wife was of Muggle descent after all --, there was something about a long line of squibs that didn't sit well with him. "Yes, I am."
"You shouldn't. But if you are, tell your friend to get on inside. It isn't exactly safe to be out on deck when we're getting closer and closer to Malos Island."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it isn't safe to be outside. Do you really think they would leave the waters near the island unguarded?"
Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember if they had broach the subject of something in the sea protecting the island. But we should have, Ron realized.
Reynard went on. "From the specs Draco's been giving us, we know that they at least have hydras, one or two charybdises and maybe a scylla. We don't want one of them getting a hold of you even before make it to the island."
"Charybdis? Scylla?" Ron questioned, trying to remember if these were some of those magical animals he was supposed to have known about.
"Never read The Odyssey?"
"The what?"
"I guess that answers my question," Reynard muttered, not bothering to be discreet. "Kids these days..." He sighed. "A charybdis is a sort of magical sea monster that at certain times of the day open up and becomes a whirlpool. It's hell to get out of and unfortunately for you, the next time it opens up is coming up. We should reach it in..." He glanced at a clock on one of the boat's panels. "Fifteen minutes. A scylla is something different though. A nine-headed monster that would just love to snatch you up with it's long neck and eat you alive. Nasty little things, they are. Just in case we happen on one of them, it'll be safe for you to be indoors where they can't get to you."
Ron shuddered, thinking about being gobbled up by a sea monster with nine-heads. Doesn't sound like a good way to die... "Is there anyway to kill them? Or at least disable them so we can get through?"
Reynard looked thoughtful for a moment, but then answered, "They aren't invincible Weasley. How would you deal with an evil Wizard? You deal with a sea monster the same way. But there are some other things to consider. There are ways to kill them and then there are ways that they can kill you." A smirk settled on his lips and Reynard took a few step closer to Ron. "The trick is killing it, while not helping it kill you."
Ron glared at the old man, not liking the roundabout ways he was telling him to do his job. But he forced himself to endure it. While Malfoy had given them detailed information about island itself, he failed to mention about the waters around the island.
Seeing that Weasley didn't understand by the blank look in his eyes, Reynard chuckled softly to the fury of Ron. "Take the hydra. When you sever a hydra's head, two more pop up in it's place and if you go after a scylla, you'll have all the heads after you. A charybdis is somewhat hard to fight, but a stilling spell should be able to stop it easily, but it's a bit hard to concentrate on a spelling when it's sucking your boat and gushing water at you like a broken faucet. Just keep that in mind when you're out there, all right?" He smirked again, his eyes filled with humor. "We can't exactly have you failing Draco." And with that, Reynard turned away, the conversation clearly over at his end.
Ron glared at the back of the old man, his mind full of curses directed at him. No word about our safety. Just bloody Malfoy!
He calmed down a bit and after checking that he had his wand on him, Ron started towards the door again. Only this time, his steps were a bit less confident, his mind on the danger that lay in the waters in front of him. A tad anxious, Ron looked at the door that lead to the deck with apprehension. His sea-sickness was just getting worst and not for the first time he was debating the chances success of this mission. What the hell are we getting into?
While Ron had been having his little chat with Reynard, Harry had been thinking some more. Being outside, under the stars and moon, it was hard not to bask in the moonlight. But his mind was occupied at the moment and if it were any other time other than before a dangerous mission that had the odds stacked against it, he probably would have allowed the luxury to just revel in being out in the night.
The oxymoron that was Draco Malfoy needed to be solved. He knew that he would never be able to go on if he didn't. He would never be able to do his best if he had mixed feelings about the person he was trying to save, especially if you weren't sure if you wanted to save him. Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy... Just who the hell are you?
Looks could be deceiving, isn't that what they say? But then again there was actions speak louder than words and Malfoy's actions clearly tell of a sadistic, depraved man. Gregon's actions however, spoke of a man who was committed to the public, a man risking personal injury to himself in service to the people. But Malfoy? Risking his life for another? If you had told him that a few days ago he would laughed himself silly and thank the person telling him for the comic relief.
Malfoy was a Slytherin. Any Slytherin is committed to pursuing his own goals, no matter what the costs. They were sly and cunning and would do anything to do to get what they want. But how did saving innocents help him? How did working as a double agent help his goal?
What is his goal anyway? Harry thought, his forehead furrowed. Is he hoping to convince people that he should be exempt from the atrocities he had committed? Actually, that sounded about right and the more correct it sounded. It would be just like Malfoy to play on the sympathies of others.
It made sense. But then there was the matter of Dumbledore. He seemed to believe in the man wholeheartedly and while Malfoy was a conniving bastard, Dumbledore had a heart of gold and a perception that equaled no one. He may trust too easily -- Snape coming to mind -- but the trust he placed in people had never been wrong. If Dumbledore trusted Malfoy, then he had to be sincere. Harry mentally groaned. The feeling that he was missing key parts of the picture nagged at him. There's got to be something Dumbledore is keeping from me... I just wish he'll just tell me everything. It'll probably help me through this easier...
Hermione seemed to like Malfoy enough. During his earlier talk with her, he had sensed nothing but good feelings in regard to their old classmate. Hermione also seemed to believed that Malfoy was sincere and was absolutely positive that somehow Dumbledore had become a father figure in Malfoy's life. How he had become that, Harry had no idea.
For his entire life he had heard of the doting that went on with Malfoy and his parents. They adored him -- gave him everything. Yet, Dumbledore had suggested that Malfoy had been abused by his parents so maybe Malfoy's life wasn't such a paradise… He himself should know it felt to live with abusive parents, even though it pained him to even suggest that the Dursley's were his surrogate parents. But they were in a way. They were the ones to raise him, to clothed and protected him, but the things that should have came freely, Harry had to get it with a heavy price. It was a wonder, being in their influence for so much of his life that he didn't end up just like them. But he supposed it was because of the utter contempt he held for Dursely's and would rather have the Crucio curse cast upon him a hundred times than be ever compared to them. If Dumbledore was the telling the truth -- wait, Dumbledore doesn't lie... Of course he's telling the truth! Draco had been mistreated, just as he was, yet his adored his parents, his Malfoy name. He was ever doing things to impress his father. Stockholm Syndrome? Harry questioned, remembering hearing about it a while back. It had been named for the Muggle who had diagnosed where in which the abuser would abuse the victim for a long period in time so that in time the victim would come to rely on the abuser and do anything to please him or her. God knew how many times Harry had tried to please his aunt and uncle for even the smallest scrap of affection... Could...could Malfoy be the same way...? Harry thought with dread. They were so much alike... Both of them had caregivers who were everything but and both had been mistreated. Both of them had the hate they felt for the Dursely's and the Malfoy's and it could be the one thing that was driving Malfoy do what he was doing. It made sense that he would work with the Light just to spite his father.
Unconsciously, Harry nodded. He now had a reason, the why behind Malfoy's motives and that made him one step closer to understanding the man that was Draco Malfoy.
Ron threw open the door and, like Harry, felt the cold blast of air as it hit him. Sucking his breath, Ron didn't allow a little cold air defer him. He forged on, walking on to the deck. There he spied his friend towards the end of the boat.
It was quiet as he moved over to his friend, the only sound was that of the motor humming slightly and that was only in his mind. There had been a silencing spell placed on the boat, but the spell didn't quite cover the vibrations of the small craft. Of course they had a spell that masked it to the outside world, but on the boat they could still hear it -- or rather feel it -- quite easily.
Harry didn't stir as he moved closer but Ron knew he was not unaware of his presence. It was very rare that Harry would allow his guard down. Hell it's very rare anybody these days let their guard down. It was a luxury none could afford.
His friend was clenching the metal rail and briefly Ron wondered if it wasn't cold to the touch. But that didn't matter. It seemed if he wasn't the only one who had a restless spirit.
"Anything in particular you're look at?" Ron asked casually as one might do if they were out for a peaceful stroll.
"Nope."
Well, well... It seemed as if the Boy Who Lived wasn't in the mood to talk. Too bad... Ron thought, not the least bit sorry. He needed to get a few things off his chest and he knew Harry did too.
"Heavy thoughts?
The still figure didn't answer. Instead he turned away from the rail, finally releasing his white fingers from the rail. Leaning against the bar, Harry looked as if the fight had been taken out of him. "I guess you could say that."
"What about?"
"The usual things," Harry replied off-handedly. "Malfoy, the mission, Malfoy some more. What we have to expect from the mission and what we least expect because I would bet that they have that covered. That sort of stuff."
Am I supposed to believe that? Ron wondered. Though the first parts rang true, he doubted that Harry would worry too much about simple risks that were present in every mission. On one level, it could be true. But it wouldn't be as bad as to get Harry so grim. "No, what's really bother you."
Harry gave him the ghost of a smile. "What are you doing here anyway?" he avoided. "I thought you were ready to hurl even at the sight of water." At the glare that Ron sent his way, Harry chuckled softly. He sank down until he was sitting on the wooden deck, but not before checking if it was wet. If it had been wet, he never would have sat down in the first place.
Bending his head, Ron looked down at the sitting figure. Deciding that his neck would most likely cramp if he kept it up, Ron got down to his haunches to sit down beside Harry.
"God!" Ron yelped. He glared offhandedly at the deck and whipped his head back to glower at Harry. "How the hell can you sit on that...that ice block?!"
Harry shrugged. "It's not so bad with your robe under you and it doesn't bother me that much anyway."
Still perturbed, Ron resigned himself to sitting on the cold wood, barely restraining a grimace as his body met floor. Harry's wrong... It is so bad even with your robe on. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath.
Harry was trying to hide a smile at the long suffering look on Ron's face. A simple pleasure, but he'll take them as he got them.
"Why are we torturing ourselves like this?"
"Because you wanted to sit on this bloody floor and I want to keep you company?"
"No," Harry urged. "Why do we keep going on these mission for Dumbledore? Why are we doing this?" And to punctuate his point his waved his arms around, gesturing wildly around him.
Looking straight ahead, Ron thought about the question. "You want to hear why I do what I do or do you want me to give you what you want to hear?"
When Harry didn't answer Ron shrugged. "Don't know. We must be masochists."
A silence fell over them after Ron's weak attempt at humor, the two of them not sure what to say. It was so thick that you could almost cut it with a fork. And when it stretched on and on, Ron knew one had to break first.
"Well," he began. "I can safely say why I'm doing it and I'll say that it's the reason you're out here with me." Ron turned his head to look at Harry because it made him feel less detached from his friend. He didn't want to be saying this like he would just indifferently tell it to a stranger. "My family," Ron softly said. "The people I hold closest to me and my wife, the person who is my life. I fight to keep them safe and alive. So do you." And to emphasize his point, he jabbed Harry on his arm. "You fight for your friends and you fight for your family."
Harry opened his mouth to contradict, but Ron cut him off with a waved of a hand.
"Yes, your family Harry. Can you honestly say you don't care for me like a brother, Hermione a sister?"
Suddenly Harry found his mouth going dry and he couldn't respond. Instead he just shook his head, not trusting his voice not to crack.
"You also fight for the memory of your parents," Ron continued, his voice steady. "I know you don't want talk it or even like to think about it, but it's true. Your parents gave your life for you and you are in return giving your life to the cause they believed in so completely that they would die for it." And then he shrugged as if it had not been a big deal. "Simple."
Just like that, Harry marveled. It was so clear for Ron. From the way he said it was like it should have been obvious.
Ron then turned back and breathed in deeply.
"Simple..." Harry mulled over. Simple.
"Yes simple," Ron affirmed. "It has to be simple or otherwise you'll start doubting yourself."
There was no answer from the body next to him and no indication that Harry had even heard it at all. Ron stiffened. "You...you don't...do you?" Ron asked hesitantly, a deepening horror in his eyes.
When Harry still didn't answer, Ron had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the water or the boat. Oh good God... He brought a shaking hand to massage his forehead. What Harry was inadvertently admitting to was scaring him, shaking his very foundations of truth. "Hell of a time to develop doubts, Harry," Ron cursed softly.
Harry gave a short, harsh laugh that was without humor. "Don't you think I know that?" he asked harshly. He thrust a hand through his unruly hair. "It's too much Ron... Too damn much. You know as well as I do that I'm the Boy Who Fucking Lived! But I'll bet you that no one, nobody, really believes I'm going to be the one to vanquish Voldemort and save us all."
"Bullshit!" Ron cursed fervently. He whirled on him. "Cut the crap Harry! Everyone had always believed in you!" Ron spat vehemently.
He didn't blink. He knew how Ron felt on the subject and he was his best friend so he had to say he believed in him.
Suddenly Ron's blind conviction, his blind belief in him that he could succeed enraged him and Harry jumped up onto his feet. "God damn it! I'm not a fucking hero! I'm sick of people being I am their fucking savior just because of a god damned fluke that happened so damn long ago! I'm just a regular guy, no better, no worse than any other guy in this world." With that Harry turned away abruptly. After a moment, he squared his shoulders, trying to calm down by taking in several deep breaths.
"What else?"
It had been said so softly that Harry wasn't even sure he had heard it. But then Ron repeated the question and Harry was sure he had heard the whispered words that time.
They had came out of no where and it caught Harry off guard. Confused, he didn't know how to respond. So he turned around, ready to ask Ron what he was talking about. But before he could say anything Ron asked his question once again.
"What else, Harry?" Ron was also on his feet now, standing before his friend.
His voice was level, almost tentative like Ron wasn't sure if a wrong word wouldn't set him off.
"What else, what?" Harry asked gruffly.
"What else!" Ron grabbed his friend's shoulders, his fingernails digging deep into flesh. He gave Harry several good, sound shakes. "What else are we to believe in, you bastard!"
He was still shaking Harry and when he saw Harry's eyes rolling back as Harry's head bobbed up and down, he abruptly dropped his hold. Horror swept through him like a wave. "Oh God, Harry. I'm so sorry..."
Harry held up a hand to stop Ron's apologies. "It's okay, Ron." When he saw that Ron was not convinced, he added, "Really." Still Ron didn't look too convinced but at least Ron had stopped apologizing.
Swallowing hard, Ron took a step away to distance himself from his friend. "I still mean it though. There's very little we can believe in and whether you want it or not, you're the person we look up to. We will fight for you, we will die for you and we understand that you, ultimately you will be the one to save us."
"I'm really not that great, Ron. And it's for that reason I don't want to be known as the Boy Who Will Save Us All. I'm just one guy."
"One guy can make a difference. And besides, you have me to help you. You have Dumbledore and even Malfoy's on your side." Ron's mouth curl in distaste as he spoke Malfoy's name. "No one expects you to do it on your own. But like it or not, you're a big part of this. And it's not as if we have a lot of people to believe in. We have you, the person who's the very reason why we've lasted this long. If you had died 26 years ago we would have lost the fight a long time ago. I probably wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for you."
"Don't say that!" Harry cried out.
"It's true," Ron stressed. "No one has ever survived an encounter with You-Know-Who and then this baby comes along and defeats him. Do you know how extraordinary that is?"
The wonder in Ron's voice moved him and for a while he could actually see himself believing his words.
"Like I said before, Harry. We don't have many people to believe in. We have Dumbledore, we have the Grey Dragon and...we have you."
The screaming had began once again, the very yells sending shivers on her spine. She heard them as they echoed off the walls and vibrated throughout the halls of the manor. Even being outside, she could hear them all the way out there, the sounds being carried by the wind, making them sound like twisted cries from the dark.
Briefly she wondered how long Draco could last under the pressure. Last night he had lasted longer than the night before and the night before that, each new night gaining more and more time before he lapsed away into unconsciousness. But then again he had lasted longer and longer not giving any reaction. Even at the age of twelve, Draco knew the consequences of showing any sort of weakness.
The tall woman shivered, her usually expressionless face barely concealing her anguish as she heard the distorted cries of the man she called friend. Whatever they seemed to be casting on him was definitely bad for it make him howl in such agony.
She had been afraid that they would cast the Heaven on Earth spell on him and had hoped because it had been newly developed that it wouldn't be put to use. But unfortunately it was. She doubted any other type of torture would break Draco, but if one were to, this one would be the one. It was a bit ironic -- it had been developed by Draco himself only a few weeks back. The person to devise the spell is now the recipient of it...
Wandering the dark wood, she was careful not to step on anything or come into contact with any plant. They had the island fortified with a number of deadly plants and animals so it would do her no good to fall prey to one of them on an 'innocent' night stroll.
They had spells to repel them, potions to render them harmless and countless little magical things to keep them safe, but safe was only relative and no one is truly safe. It was ridiculous for them to run around getting themselves inoculated and bend themselves back and forward for this and that every time they had a new thing on the island.
Of course it was understandable that they had to protect the island from intruders but sometimes, she thought, it just wasn't worth the work. On a monthly basis they would lose at least one or two people to the very things that were place on the island to protect it.
The moon was in the middle of the night sky, its light more than enough to light the path. She was circling the island, still debating whether or not to help Potter and Weasley when the time came. It was very tempting not to. To turn up at the landing site with a dozen Death Eaters waiting for the two of them -- to be the one who will be remembered that killed Harry Potter. Weasley would be a nice price as well -- the two of them had earned the reputation of being unbeatable. To kill them both would strike a blow within the Wizarding World that they can do anything and they can't do anything to stop it. This could be the thing that could not be rivaled by any of the petty attacks they were doing now.
But... and there's always a but. But, she knew she couldn't do it. She was too devoted to Draco and to Draco's resistance within the Death Eaters to do that to the people they were supposed to be helping.
Maybe I should just not show up at all... she contemplated. Immediately she squashed that idea. Potter and Weasley wouldn't be able to take two steps without getting tangled or attacked by something nasty. Hell most of the people here still need guides! It was why no one was allowed out on the island without being in pairs. Unless, you were one of the few on the island that knew it from the ground up and would never, even drunk and high, would ever fall into one of their own traps.
Besides, she thought. A bumbling Potter and Weasel messing up everything we've worked for is something I don't need right now.
"Psst!"
She froze, the tiny noise rooting her to her spot. She discreetly scanned the area around her, but she couldn't see anything out of place. Of course that doesn't mean there's no one out there anyway. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice guarded.
No one answered and all she could hear were soft footsteps that were descending upon her, closer and closer. She forced herself to be still when the footsteps finally stopped right behind her. She could feel the warm breath tickling the back of her neck, making the small hairs stand on their ends.
"It's only me," the whispered voice then came from right next to her, directly into her ear.
She turned, a look of surprise and shock on her face. "Vin?"
"Yeah."
She was about ready to reach out into the general area where the voice was coming from to try and get a sense of where he was when a sharp shout halted her.
"No!"
The hissed voice immediately stopped her arm and it fell awkwardly to her side.
"Just keep on walking," Vin directed.
She obeyed him, acting if nothing had happened, her steps steady and sure. "Invisibility cloak?"
"Yes."
She nodded slightly, acknowledging his answer. She had thought as much. It was one of the few things that they are not able to detect if used on the island.
"Why are you here Vin?"
"What are your plans for Potter and Weasley?" Vin shot right back.
"Haven't decided," she lied effortlessly. Well it's not as if I have much of a choice.
"What?!" he screeched, but it was an odd sort of screech for Vin was trying to be quiet and express his shock at the same time. "Why the hell haven't you?" he demanded angrily.
She shrugged. She didn't what to say to him that was believable. She had decided what she was going to do, but she couldn't let him know that. It was they who had ordered her to work with the two of them in the first place. She wasn't about to let them know she was going to do it their way without a fight.
"It's not our way Vinny, you know that. He's one of us, we should be the ones doing this," she implored, using the excuses she had used before.
"Yes, but Draco wanted it this way. You remember what he said before he was captured. He's stressed this again and again -- Let Dumbledore do what he wants done and give him any help needed. He knew he wouldn't be able to be anonymous forever. They can get him out to safety and most of all it's what he wants. That's what's important. He's relying on us to do his job once he's gone. He can't have one of us falling prey to the Death Eaters," Vin paused for a moment and she could hear a shuffle of material. She smiled. Vin's nervous, she sang in her head. It had been a habit that Vin had developed, a sure sign of his anxiety.
He spoke again, this time the tone of his voice was more commanding. "You've always trust Draco above all else. Trust him enough now to DO AS HE ASKS," he stressed, his voice hard.
She pursed her lips, offended. Who the hell is he to question my allegiance to Draco?! She shook her head in compliance. I don't have time for this. "Alright already. I'll do it," she sneered.
If it had seemed to Vin that she had given up too easily, he said nothing about it save for a final grunt of approval before moving off, leaving her to stand in the middle of the path alone.
She snorted and fumed at his sudden leave. He didn't even have the decency to say good-bye! she indignantly cried in her head.
Composing herself, she smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles out of her robe and she started walking again nonchalantly toward the coast where two outsiders were supposed to land.
Let's just get this over with, she grumbled.
"Boys!"
Ron and Harry's head turned when they heard the cry from inside the boat. There was Reynard leaning outside, half in and half out with one hand on the door frame. "We're at the border between the protected waters and open ocean. I assume you two have the spells to get us through undetected?" He looked down at them pointedly, almost expecting them to answer negatively.
The two young men fumed under his gaze until Ron finally said something. "Yes," he spat contemptly.
"We'll take care of it," Harry added pleasantly, sending Ron a diapproving look.
Harry thought he had heard a low grumble coming from Reynard before he moved back in to do things on his end, but he could have been mistaken.
When Reynard was finally out of the way, Ron turned to Harry and rolled his eyes. "I really don't like that guy," he groused, pulling his wand out.
"He just wants us to succeed and besides, Dumbledore trusts him." Harry too pulled his wand out.
The boat sped up for a few moments and soon the two of them heard Reynard yell that had arrived over the point. "Now!"
The two spells they were using were new to them and they had practiced most the day in mastering them. It wasn't enough time, but in their line of work it was often nescessary to learn spells at the spur of the moment with little or no practice. It was a dangerous thing to do to cast a spell that they were not familiar with because of the hundred and one ways to do something wrong. Even the smallest mispronunciation could mean the difference between the spell suceeding or failing and in their case failing was not an option.
One spell, the Breach spell was just as the name suggested. It was to breach the barrier, to make sure they moved through it without harm. Usually it would repel unsuspecting boats away from the waters of Malos Island -- either that or capsize the vessel. It was the easier of the two spells so Ron had volunteered to do it. Not because he was less competent to do the other spell, but because Harry had a natural knack for casting spells and it would have increased their chances to accomplish their goal.
The other spell had to be cast at exactly the moment they passed through the border. The Stealte spell was the spell to conceal the small boat once they got into enemy waters. If it was cast before or after they passed the border, they were screwed. The hard part of the spell was judging at what moment the right time was. There was no way to know exactly, more like an intuition type of thing. It was judging the right time by the feel of the air. The air being so frigidly cold was a mark on their part.
With everything he had, Harry focused on getting his part of this done. In the back of his mind he heard Ron yell his spell, but he was more focused on trying to distinguish the 'right' time for his spell to be cast.He raised his wand in expectancy, still waiting for that small moment that could mean their life or death. There! He felt it! It was a slight pull and Harry knew that he had to cast the spell now, before he felt pressure on his body or else he would be too late.
Without wasting any time, Harry gave his wand an impressive sweep. "Ebateis Stealte!" he cried out. Almost immediately later he felt the pressure on his body. They were so close that Harry didn't know if he had been quick enough or not and when nothing happened for a moment he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing for sure he had failed everyone.
It was just as Harry was about to crumble when Reynard popped his head out again. "Good job! You've done it but be on the alert." Harry barely heard Reynard over the roaring noise in his ears and missed the look Reynard gave Ron before he retreated back in.
Harry sighed in relief, the only thing on his mind was that he was okay, Ron was okay and they were back on schedule. There's nothing wrong, he told himself, trying to reassure himself that everything was okay.
It was like the energy suddenly decided to leave him and he leaned against the boat rail in relief. "Well," he started weakly. "That wasn't fun."
Ron clasped a firm hand on Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry. We knew you wouldn't fail us." Ron gave him a small smile, he too trying to reassure his friend.
Harry closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. It was amazing at the confidence Ron believed him and it was surprising that he could still feel so strongly about a particular mission. But Harry knew that if he didn't feel as if he wasn't going to succeed with every mission, he wouldn't have worked as hard as he had without the threat of failing. "Thanks, Ron," Harry thanked gratefully. It was nice having friends who believed in you, Harry mused as they lapsed into silence, the two of them content at enjoying what little amount of peace they had.
After a few minutes, Ron suddenly started.
"Did you hear that?" Ron asked curiously.
"Hear what?"
There was a splash of water and then another.
"There! And again! You hear it?"
"You'll have to be deaf not to Ron," Harry answered dryly. "It's just water, nothing to worry about."
"No," Ron insisted. "Not just water. Well, yes water but not water hitting the boat. More like something rising..." he trailed off, his head slowly rising, his staring at something just above Harry's head. "Oh shit," he cursed.
"What?"
Ron lifted a shaking arm to point at the thing above Harry's head. "I...I think...I think it's a..."
"What?" Harry questioned, annoyed and turned around. After he saw nothing, only a large shape to the front of him. Then he looked up. And then he saw what it was that had Ron so spooked. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His mouth suddenly dried up and he could only echo Ron's statement. "Shit!"
New A/N: You might have realized that this has an extra part in it. It as a mistake on my part when I forgot about it... It hit me an hour after I had turned the ocmputer off that I had forgotten to put that scene in and I hope that it wasn't that much of a problem for all of you.
Old A/N: Oh boy... I'm not really sure what to say. I tried to mess with my little nicely neat universe and this is what happened. I was talking to my friend Kara (HI KARA! =) and she pointed out that I couldn't make this as easy as I've made it so this is the result. I want to thank Kara for all her help, even though she hates slash and doesn't understand my love of placing Draco and Harry together.
Oh I have an announcement to make! My beta reader has come up with a cover to Gregon! It's up here: http://www.angelfire.com/or2/sherryillk/hp/cover.html
Please tell her what you think of it! It's great, no?
I think I should have said that this was going to be an eventual slash story. I mean Harry and Draco haven't even seen each other in like 9 years and Draco's out of his mind right now.
Zipporah: Glad you like it! That's exactly what I was going for. Same characters, but different because different things have happened to them. I might explain somewhat why they have changed but it'll most likely be in a different story.
I know what you mean about thinking a lot about each other. It's what I do, I suppose. I'm a thinker and I know people think, and I believe in knowing how someone thinks, you understand them a lot more. That's what I'm trying to do. I did try to get more talking in this chapter. Verbal interaction is not one of my fortes... I'll try to get more talking later on.
WildfireFriendship: Yes very much so. *veg* No... It's just that I have a lot to say. Next chapter will have something exciting though.
I've been thinking about this fanfic a lot lately and I'm starting to think I should summarize it as "an exploration of mind to further understand what drives the characters of Harry Potter", but it doesn't sound that good so I'm not going to change it.
A GREAT MANY THANKS TO MY BETA READER RED DRAGONS ORDER. You are such a dear and thank you and sorry again.
That's about it then. Remember, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! I live for your comments, good and bad! :) Until next time.