"Oooohhh," Hermione moaned, rubbing her hands at her temple. The blinding headache just wouldn't seem to quit. Somehow she knew it was attributed to the hours she didn't spend sleeping. But such was the life she led -- she was lucky if she had one day in a week with enough sleep under her belt.
The throbbing wouldn't leave her so she was left with no choice but to ignore it. If only that was as easy as it sounds, Hermione muttered in her head. It was easier said than done.
She looked down at the pile of work placed on her desk all in a disarray. Normally, she didn't tolerate disorder, but ever since she had started this particular job... She had found that the mess was more orderly than any of her specified filing could ever be. There was order in disorder, which was an oxymoron if she had ever heard one.
Just looking at the number of briefs, of reports and of depositions she had to look over made her want to cringe and hide. When she had first started, she never knew just how much paperwork was needed. Her earlier jobs, while rising up through the ranks held some amounts of paperwork she had to oversee, but this one...It was just ridiculous. And time consuming, she thought despondently.
She didn't want to do it; wanted to put it off to another day. But her experiences with this sort of thing was the longer you put it off, the more lives that could be lost so she usually made herself work at it, no matter what. If not her, then usually one of her staff. Someone was always on duty.
But tonight...
Hermione couldn't get the smell of burnt human flesh out of her nostrils, she was bathed in the smell from the smoke and the destruction she had viewed earlier. Flashes of memories flickered in her mind, reminding her why she needed to get this done.
She knew who had attacked Evansville this morning, knew it to an almost certainty. And she wouldn't, couldn't let those bastards off without showing that her people didn't tolerate acts of terrorism. She would find out why and then she would propose a counter-attack. It was current policy not to retaliate but she was not going to let the Ministry sleep until they did something about this latest attack.
Too many had happened, too many they had tried to cover up and too many had they let slide. They had watched as innocents were slaughtered, families torn apart and yet they had done nothing. The Gregon had tried to do something -- it was what Hermione admired most about Draco Malfoy. While others were running around secret, talking about actions they never meant to carry out, he was out there, doing something.
His motivations, were well talked about by those who knew who he was and by those who don't. The common theory by those who don't was that he was doing just because it was right and just. And those who did knew who he was, thought he was trying to knock off the Dark Lord so he could move into position of power himself. He had already killed his father, didn't he? If he could do that, what wouldn't he stop at?
It didn't matter that those rumors of Malfoy killing his father was only just that -- rumors. Nothing substantiated or proven, but was still accepted as fact.
What Hermione thought of those people -- both who knew and didn't -- was that they are either very blind or very stupid. Malfoy, doing something right and just out of the goodness of his heart? Please! When she thought of Malfoy, the word altruistic didn't pop in her mind; it didn't even blimp on the very edge of her thoughts.
And the theory that he was trying to become the new Voldemort was also pure rubbish. She might not know Draco as well as she would have liked, but any person spending any amount of time with him would have known that world domination was never in his plans.
Hermione wasn't sure why Draco was doing what he was doing. She wasn't even certain if Draco knew what he was doing. But that doesn't matter, at least not at the present. He was doing good -- for the most part -- and they needed a few more people out there like him. People who were making a difference.
Sometimes she would wonder if she was one of those people. She was no longer in the thick of the action; that was left to the mavericks like her husband and Harry. She was the nameless face who made sure no one ever knew what truly happened, the one who fiddled with the strings of the key players so that they would do what she had planned for them. Was that as important as those who went out and did something?
She sighed. Now wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, but she found that the melancholy was setting in on her more quickly then ever. It was times like that when she had a moral dilemma that she hated her life. Most of the time she knew she was doing something good, something necessary, but at other times... Those were the thoughts that kept her late up at night, unsure for the future.
Forcing herself away from her thoughts, she looked down at the folder in front of her. It was the main agent's report of the attack at Evansville. While she had been in charge of damage control, she hadn't been the principal agent on the scene.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione flipped open the folder. Inside were photographs -- Muggle ones, not Wizard ones. They had found that it wasn't exactly humane to trap those in the photos to an existence of death and agony for so long as the picture existed. Also there were some human emotional drawbacks as well. For some reason, Wizard psychologists had found that it was detrimental for people to watch people they didn't know suffering to death. Either way, they had converted to Muggle photography. Though it was a bit more cumbersome, they tried to work around it.
The photographs were clipped on the pages of paper on the attack. Hermione skimmed through the report, trying to pick out the main points. Most of the information were things she had already surmised, but a few bits of information enlightened her. Such as the pattern of destruction. It seemed as though the Death Eaters were looking for something specific -- what the agent didn't speculate. But whatever it was, it was enough for the Death Eaters to decimate an entire town for.
That was enough for her to fuel her resolution to find out what this thing was. If it was that important, then she needed to know about.
Things were going to get a lot harder from now on, she realized that. No longer did she have someone to go in times of need. Draco Malfoy was out and worse than that, he was currently unavailable and clueless. But once he was out and safe, she knew it would be better. The sooner that happened, the sooner the rest of the world could breath easier.
It was times like this that made her wonder if the inhabitants of this earth knew of the people who tried to make sure there was a tomorrow to wake up to. If they knew the knights of darkness who fought on their behalf, without recognition or reward. They were the faceless entities who tried their best and when they couldn't follow through, were led out to slaughter. None of them could ever comprehend people like Draco Malfoy. Or me, Hermione thought with a grim certainty. She had never meant to become one of those people, fates and circumstances just seemed to come together for her to take residence on the other side. If she failed, she would be on the chopping block. If she succeed... Even if she succeeded, there would be no "well done" or "good job". But that didn't matter. She didn't need platitudes. Besides, if people knew who she was and what she did, then she did fail.
Hermione was meant to be the faceless nobody that everyone depended on but never would know she was there.
Just as Draco was.
They had drifted apart after a bit, each of them uncomfortable with the others. They were never meant to be a "group". That would have implied that they were meant to be tied together. Instead, they were more like individuals, tied together in a mistake of destiny. Even Harry and Ron didn't gravitate towards each other this time when they were separating. Each were left to their own devices.
Midgen paced around, inactivity not settling well with her. If Harry was honest with himself, neither was he. The nothing of everything was finally getting to him. He was unarmed, locked up in what was supposed to be one of the most secure facilities in the world and almost totally helpless. That never sit well with him and with a glance over to where Ron was tapping his thigh, he could tell his red-haired friend most likely would agree with him.
Draco... Harry ventured a glance at the blonde boy. He was still sitting in the same place, his head bent as he contemplated the stone floor. Why Harry didn't have the faintest idea because he had seen that floor from his point of view; nothing of interest there.
He wasn't sure how the boy was doing; he had been rather closed mouthed ever since they had drifted apart. But the cell wasn't that large and there weren't that many places to go. Draco just rooted himself to his spot and never tried to leave.
Harry wondered what Draco could be thinking of. How things were different? How things were? His father maybe? He winced at the last one. He had heard the story, just like everybody else about how the elder Malfoy had died. Or rather at whose hands.
But did Draco know?
Harry shook his head in answer to his own question. That was stupid question. Of course he didn't know. How could he? It was after his time. Now, Harry wondered. Do I tell the boy? He wanted to, he really did. Would love to tell Draco that little tidbit of information, see is face when he realizes what his future self did and to his own father. To anyone else, it would have been forgivable, but to his father...
And he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't. He wasn't that sort of person, no matter what he tried to tell himself. Ron however, would be different. If he had thought of it, Harry was sure he would try it on the boy. He had never really let go of his anger over their old childhood enemy.
"I can't take this!" Midgen growled, throwing her head up to snarl her frustration. "It's been hours! If they are going to do something, they should have done it by now!"
Harry had no response. What could he say? Inwardly he agreed with the girl, but an agreement couldn't help them.
"We have to something...anything," Midgen spoke, half to herself. "Sitting here twiddling our thumbs isn't getting us anywhere."
"Who's twiddling?" Ron spoke up.
Midgen sent daggers at him, but Ron refused to cower. "Excuse me, tapping in your case." She snorted. "Besides, it's not like you two are doing anything to help. Some heroes you two are."
"What can we do?" Ron rejoined. "If you haven't noticed, we're a bit...I don't know, defenseless? We don't even have our wands."
"We could at least be planning. Unlike some people, I don't like riding on the seat of my pants, especially when my life is held in the balance."
Harry regarded the two of them warily. How easy it seemed for them to fall back on earlier standings. And they seemed to have formed a tentative trust earlier too... "We need to get out and back on the boat. Reynard will be waiting for us but only up a point."
"And we need to get out of here before boy wonder over there gets his memories back," Ron added. "Can't have all those precious secrets falling--" He stopped abruptly as his eyes grew wide. "Hey!" He whirled on Midgen, startling her a bit. "What about you?" he asked suspiciously.
"What about me?" she asked cautiously, her eyes narrowing.
"I mean what about you! You must know something," Ron said as he advanced on the woman. "From what I've been hearing, you're pretty close to Malfoy. Close enough to know things that are very valuable to V-Voldemort." He was almost unable to suppress the shudder that traveled through his body.
Realization lit Harry's eyes as he started to comprehend what Ron was getting at. A look around the cell told him, so did everybody else. Draco, who had looked up at the commotion was now observing the scene with veiled eyes. And Midgen was visibly clamming up.
"Maybe," she replied vaguely. "So what of it?"
"If you know something, then why haven't they come for you yet?" Harry asked, walking towards the two of them. "And if they had tortured you, you wouldn't exactly be able to stop yourself..."
Midgen turned her head to look at Harry, disgust and contempt evident on her face. "You think I'll give Draco up?" she spat, looking down at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Not really since they already have him, but there are other things that only you and Draco know."
Her eyes couldn't hide the incredulous light that lurked behind them even as it started to set in. Harry could see the realization, the horror that was reflected from that realization and finally it turned to anger. But not at herself, he observed. No, it was directed at him.
For once, he wasn't mystified by his actions. What he told Midgen was the truth, whether she believed it or not was irrelevant. It was still true and it could happen. That's why it was better to acknowledge it, try to plan for it now rather than be surprised by it later. If they were aware of their weakness, then they could work to enforce them.
Midgen snorted. "You have no idea what you are talking about. I could never betray Draco. He's my life."
Harry ignored the last few words -- he really didn't want to know what she meant by them and strived on, "Even so, you're at risk."
The side of her mouth started to curl upward in a half smile. Half smirk, Harry corrected himself. There was nothing nice in that smile; it was pure arrogance and scorn. And there was something in her eyes that gave him pause...
She didn't say a thing and for a moment, the four of them were locked in silence. Ron and Draco weren't in the conversation to begin with and it didn't seem like either was contemplating on joining any time soon. And Harry still couldn't place that half smirk of Midgen's. There was something there, underneath all that bravado, he was sure of it.
He eventually looked away, turning so that that he could see the door. For a short moment, he assessed it before turning his head away. There was no escape there. They would have to either find someway to rush out when people on the other side open it or open it themselves, which they could not do since they were wandless.
Harry fought the urge to scream at the uselessness of the situation. Why in the hell did I agree to this mission in the first place? Oh yeah, I was trying to do some good... Save the Gregon and all that... Should have turned the other way when I heard it involved Malfoy... he spoke to himself, carrying an inner monologue.
And now he was stuck. He was locked in a dungeon on an island that who knows where. Not only that, he was stuck with a girl who he was beginning to think he had serious mental problems and a definite attitude problem and a man who was his worst enemy -- with the exception of Voldemort of course, but Voldemort couldn't really be put on the same scale as normal evil enemies -- who wasn't an enemy after all and had been reduced to the tender age of twelve. Could life get any better? he asked himself, looking up for guidance.
"We need to figure a way out of this place," Ron finally spoke up.
"You don't say?"
Looking up in surprise, Harry raised his eyes at the blonde boy who had just spoken. For almost an hour, Draco hadn't have spoken a word and his first words since then are to goad Ron?
Would be typical of him, Harry thought, glad to have this little bit of normalcy. Malfoy being Malfoy was infinitely better than Malfoy behaving like Draco. And a lot more easier to reconcile.
Ron barely spared Draco a glance, trying to ignore him completely. But Ron had never been able to ignore Draco; even in his state now, the boy still had it in him. "The Dark Lord is going to be walking through those doors any minute now -- I suggest we plan quickly."
"And what do you expect us to do? Lunge at him and pelt him with our fists?" Draco countered, standing up. He used his hand to brace himself as he pushed up the wall. For a moment it looked as if the was going to sway, and Harry took a step to help him but then he righted himself. "We're a bit...I don't know...weaponless?"
"That's better than just letting him win," Ron argued. "You may be the Gregon and have all these secrets that you have to keep to yourself that you would even erase your memory but Harry does too and unlike you, he doesn't have the Forgitius potion. We can't risk him."
"Forgitius potion?"
"The potion that's erased your memories," Harry clarified for Draco.
"A potion did it." Draco frowned. He looked up. "This will wear off?"
"In seven days," Ron supplied. "Don't worry Malfoy. You'll be back to your...charming self in two days."
Harry saw Draco exhale softly at the information. He could imagine how relieved he must feel. "From what I hear, Snape concocted it."
"Actually," Midgen broke in the conversation. "You and Snape both collaborated on it."
"Me?" Draco echoed in disbelief. He turned his questioning eyes to Harry but he was at a lost. Dumbledore had never mentioned that fact.
Midgen nodded. "That's right. It was your idea and you enlisted Severus to help. It took you four years to refine the formula but you finally got it in use a while back. But not many people have the potion -- besides you, I'm not even aware of any others."
"You don't have one?" Harry asked, surprised by the fact that one, she didn't have the potion herself with her being in such a position and by how easily she used Snape's name.
Midgen laughed. "I wish," she said under her breath, but Harry heard her. "No," she answered a bit louder. "No I don't."
Harry nodded at this new bit of information and saved it for later. Interesting... he thought. It was interesting that someone like Midgen wouldn't have a little capsule of the potion for herself. Looking at her speculatively, he guessed that she probably had the cyanide one. If she was as loyal to Draco as she said she was, Harry didn't doubt that in the next few hours to come -- if they aren't able to escape -- they would have a dead body on their hands.
And he couldn't allow that; not on his watch. Which was why they had to get out and soon. He didn't have to be worrying about Reynard; he would be waiting in the appointed place at the right time, even though they had missed the first pickup. But there would be other times. They had until tomorrow or then they really would be stranded on the island.
Harry licked his lips, trying to think. "The next time that door opens, it'll be Voldemort."
Ron winced at the thought of the Dark Lord strolling in, seeing his long enemy caught in a trap. "We can't have that."
"Voldemort?" Draco asked, his voice incredulous. "He's coming...here?" he squeaked at the last word.
He didn't know, Harry realized. He took a deep breath as he decided to broach the topic lightly.
But before he could even say a word, Ron laughed caustically.
"You can say that, kid. Did you think he's going to miss this? The Gregon and Harry Potter, all tied up, ready for him to do what he will..." Ron smiled ruefully.
Although he didn't like the thought of You-Know-Who appearing and most likely leading to another bout of painful tortures he would rather not experience, Draco was also irked at the way Weasley just called him kid. He glared at the insult, his mouth curling in a disgusted grimace. He was never a kid.
It had been long enough, he decided. It was time to get back to his own skin. No matter what, he was still a Malfoy and it was time he acted like it. The past few hours -- hell, the past few days he hadn't been himself.
Granted, waking up disoriented and then tortured and neglect for days. That added with the shock of finding that he wasn't who he was supposed to be and then finding out it was he wasn't supposed to be -- it was a shock. And I'm entitled to freak, he told himself. But if the Dark Lord was going to make an appearance, then he's not going to act like a sniveling fool who was at a lost for words most of the time. It wasn't like him to be so damn quiet...
"Fuck," he whispered to himself. This was really screwed up in his opinion. He saw the eyes of Harry on him at his expletive and stared right back. Don't tell me I don't even curse now... he thought to himself in horror. While he usually didn't swear -- sometimes, he admitted to himself, but boys were boys -- he did occasionally. Draco stared right back at Harry and when the other refused to back down, it reminded him of the Potty he knew. "What?" he asked annoyed, feeling the surge of Malfoyness returning to him.
"You swore."
Even more confused now, Draco laughed. "So?"
Harry shrugged. "You're twelve."
"Again, so?" Draco asked impetuously.
"You're twelve," Harry repeated slowly, as if he thought the blonde hadn't have gotten it the first time.
Annoyed, Draco stared at the other man. Was Potter always this dense or was did he grow even more stupider with age? He was pleased by the spur of the moment thought. If anything was an indication of him getting his bearings back, an insult to Potter was the thing. "Yeah," he slowly agreed, nodding for his benefit. "But technically, I'm...27?"
Harry shut up, something Draco was infinitely grateful for. That and he looked away. There was something in the way the guy looked at him; made him want to shiver at the intensity of it.
Ron had been observing this encounter with the same thing as Draco did -- with confusion. This man who was talking and interacting with Malfoy was not his friend. Ron moved away from the wall he leaning on and moved over to Harry.
"What the hell was that about?"
Harry looked up at his friend. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing," he muttered.
"Nothing?" His skeptical voice betrayed his true thoughts. "Harry..." he began.
"It's nothing," Harry reiterated. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "The boy's twelve," he said, as though Ron should know what he was talking about.
"So?"
Harry groaned. Ron couldn't get it either. "Twelve, Ron. Twelve. Do you think he should be swearing like that?"
Ron shrugged. "So? We swore when we were twel--" Only one syllable left and Ron paused right in the middle of it. He closed his mouth and then his eyelids fell. They opened a moment later when he looked up towards the ceiling. "I cannot believe I was just defending the little brat."
Harry chuckled. "Don't feel so bad Ron," he consoled, patting Ron's arm lightly.
Yanking his hand away, Ron glared at Harry, trying to get that dancing look out of his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered.
"He's twelve -- long before he did anything terrible," Harry tried again.
"Hah!" he scoffed. "Are you getting old or just selective? Malfoy was the bane of our existence."
"For you maybe," a new voice interjected.
"Midgen," Ron said with a flat tone. "Did we ask you?"
"No, but I'm going to talk anyway. There's no way you can stop me." The girl smirked.
Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Haven't you resolved this?" he asked tiredly.
"No," they echoed as one.
And they manage to agree on that, he thought.
Draco by that time had joined them. "Shouldn't you be trying to find a way to get me out of here? Because having first hand experience, I know staying here and getting tortured
"He's right," Midgen agreed immediately. "We need to assume the next person walking through that door is Voldemort."
"Why Voldemort?" Ron questioned.
"Because he's the next logical choice," Midgen responded. "Vinny isn't exactly the smartest bloke in the world."
Ron stared at her as if she had grown another head. "You've lost me."
Even Harry was feeling a bit intolerant as he knew Midgen was probably be feeling from the look on her face. "Think back Ron. Special Visitor? Ring a bell?"
The light in Ron's eye lit up as he realized what they were talking about. And then he reddened.
A sharp laugh startled them. They all turned to face Draco who was smirking. Ron reddened even further, but this time, the red was in his eyes rather than his cheeks. Alarmed, Harry reached out to restrain his friend before he did bodily harm to the boy, which he was sure Ron would love to have to chance to do.
"Let me go," Ron growled, struggling against Harry's body that was blocking his way. He glared at the man who was standing there, open and grinning widely and that only made his anger intensify. "I'll kill him."
Draco laughed again. "I'll like to see you try. Even as I am now, I will always be better than a Weasley."
A loud rumble started in his chest and make its way up Ron's throat. He fought the urge to roar at the stupid boy. He knew the man Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, but when he looked at him, all he could see was the boy.
"Get a hold of yourself!" Harry urged. "You don't have to be so volatile." He shot Draco a glance behind him, warning him to back off. "Don't you see this is exactly as he wants?"
"Let him!"
"Cowering behind Potty, Weasel? Typical." He scoffed the last word as an insult.
Harry spun around at this, but his body was still trying to fend off Ron. "Stop it!" he snapped. "Quit provoking him or I will let him at you!" Draco blanched at the thought and moved a bit away.
Pushing Ron away, Harry faced the others. "We are not going to get anything done if we keep on fighting like that."
"Speak for yourself," Midgen muttered. "I'm not the one wanting to attack a twelve year old boy."
"And he's not the one doing all the provoking!" Harry hissed. "And if you want your precious Draco out of his hellhole then I suggest the two of you shut up and work with me here!"
Draco sullenly dropped down the wall to the floor, glaring up at him, but silent. Midgen took a bit longer to accede, but finally she back down. But what her body said, her eyes betrayed, fire roaring as the flame grew large and larger.
He didn't trust that girl and Draco, despite his better thoughts, he was starting to. What could a twelve year old do anyway? He was twice as old as him mentally and the boy was a stranger even in his own body. That wouldn't be much of a challenge of overcome if need be. But Midgen...Not only was the woman a wild card -- and in his opinion, a very wild card -- she had clearly stated that her loyalty is to Draco and not him. That coupled with her hate of Ron -- which he to this day couldn't figure out -- would cause problems.
Ron knew though. He could hear it in between the words they said together. While he might not be able to understand it, he knew it was there. Ron had done something. It had to have been back when they were in Hogwarts though. He didn't remember much of the shy, out of sight Hufflepuff, but what he did of her, Harry knew this wasn't the person she saw back then. The woman standing there now was consumed by hate. He had seen it in other people before, usually victim's of Voldemort or had watched Voldemort slaughter their friends and their family while they had survived.
"None of us is going to get out alive if we don't work together." He gave them a sweeping glance, hitting each of them in the eyes trying to make them understand.
"Fine," Midgen bit out. "Just don't expect me to like this."
"I don't," Harry snapped. "Just that you cooperate. I want to get out of here as much as you do."
Eloise moved until she was next Draco and fell into the space next to him. She turned to him, expecting him to move away, but he didn't.
She could only barely hide her grin from that small act. Only a few hours ago, he was shirking away. Now, he tolerated her. It was small improvement, but one none the same and that was what mattered.
"I want to kill him," she muttered, hoping to incite a reaction. Normally she wouldn't have dreamed of doing something like this as it was too open and a bit too insightful for the likes of her, but she need something, anything to tie Draco to her. He had to know she was there for him and his best interest.
"Me too." The words were out of his mouth, agreeing with her before he knew it. Surprised in part by what he had just said and what she had said, Draco turned to look at the woman next to him. "You're really a Hufflepuff?" he asked in disbelief.
Eloise shrugged. "I would have made a great Slytherin I think, but yeah, I was."
"If it helps, I think you would have fit in with us," Draco offered.
Swallowing hard, it took Eloise a moment to formulate a response. "It...it does," she spoke, speaking around the lump in her throat.
Draco nodded, content with that.
"Listen, I know you don't remember, but a bit of you must understand. That's just the way you are. If we get out of here, Potter...Potter will be the one to do it, so you should trust him."
Draco didn't answer, but Eloise knew he had heard. Thirteen years with him had made her an expert on Draco attitudes. Satisfied by that, she got up and left him.
She ambled her way to Weasley and Potter who brainstorming on different strategies to get out.
"That won't work," she commented on Potter's idea of force by rushing at the next person who came in the door. "It's practically policy not to visit the prisoners down here, unless you needed them."
"That sounds stupid," Weasley comment.
She rolled her eyes at the comment. Look who's talking. "It was Draco's idea and if it wasn't for him, you would have these people being bothered every moment of the day."
"Bothered? Is that what you call torturing these days?"
"Anyway," she continued, pretending not to have heard him, "the next person who will come in, will most likely be Crabbe or one of his men, followed by the Dark Lord. And then he'll talk for a bit, threaten a bit, then have Potter here taken to be "questioned" for a bit."
"Questioned?" Harry wondered why he didn't like the easy way Midgen just mentioned and dropped that word.
"Don't worry," she tried to soothe. "They won't kill you. You're too valuable."
"Somehow that doesn't comfort me," Harry said under his breath. "What about that Oscar guy?"
"Oscar?" Midgen repeated. "He's nothing; a pawn really."
"He has our wands," Ron pointed out.
"Wait a moment, you don't have your wands?" Draco broke in. He had thought he had heard them mention that fact earlier, but it wasn't until then that it really sunk in. "Bloody hell," he cursed. "We're screwed. And I'm dead."
"Don't curse," Harry said in gut reaction. "And it's not as hopeless as that so quit being so melodramatic."
Draco fiddled with a piece of loose string on the sleeve of his robe. He didn't look up as Harry spoke to him, but when he had finished, Draco had plucked the string out. Flicking it away, he raised his head. "I'm being realistic. You expect to go up against the Dark Lord, you don't do it unarmed and imprisoned."
"What about Oscar," Harry asked again, but it was more of a statement than a real question. "You say he's a pawn, but pawns can be moved and controlled."
"Not by me," Midgen protested in horror as if the thought of doing such a thing was innately wrong and beyond her comprehension. "He's one of Draco's men."
The silver blonde started when he heard his name. "I've never heard of him," he told them, worrying his lip.
"Not yet, but you will. I really don't know much about him -- he's assigned to Crabbe, not to the Island," Midgen informed them. "All I know is that we have one leverage over Oscar and that is his son Matthew."
"You're holding his son over him?" Ron cried out in disbelief and horror. His mouth curled in disgust as he inched away. "How could you?"
Harry stayed silent, mainly for the reason that he understood how it was to use any means of leverage to gain the cooperation and loyal of people. And for him to condone other people using such means themselves would be rather hypocritical of him. It was just the way the world did things; the world and Harry Potter.
Not Ron though. Ron...Ron was still innocent, if that was to be believed as no one in times of war is completely innocent. But perhaps naive would be the better word in the sense that while Ron was present there, he wasn't exactly living in the world. And none of it was his fault, not really. His family played some blame, Dumbledore in others, even Harry himself have tried to keep the more unseemly things about their world from his friend. And Hermione, Harry thought, thinking of the conversation he had earlier with Ron's wife. If he got out of here -- when I get out of here, he changed -- he'll have to have a chat with the woman, find out what she knew. Because the way things seemed, she knew much more than he did and that was just...wrong.
But because of their shielding of Ron, it had allowed him an environment where his misconceptions and prejudices grew.
It hadn't started off as intentional. At first he shared everything he knew with his friends. And then they started to have lives. Outside of Harry. And away from Harry's problems. And because of that, Harry tried to give them more time with themselves rather than dealing with problems that were nobody's but his own. He had to take care of his own messes. It was what he had been taught since he had been a child.
Harry turned to face Midgen, trying to gage her reactions, but with her it seemed as if she was either cold as ice or hot as fire. The problem was when she was cold, she cut off all her emotions, blocking any attempt to try and understand what she was thinking and when she was hot, she would react with uncontrollable anger. Neither way was beneficial to him.
"He's safe," she told them evenly as an answer. "That's better than what we are right now."
"You're blackmailing the man to work for you!"
Harry closed his eyes and fought the urge to groan at Ron's behavior. He loved the guy and he was his best friend but sometimes, he was just too much for him to even stand.
A large grin spread on Midgen's face, quickly becoming to resemble a smirk. "We're not blackmailing the fool."
Ron fell silent, momentarily struck. "But--"
"But nothing. He came to us, not the other way around."
Slowly, her words sank in to each of the other occupants of the cell. Though for some, it took a bit longer, they slowly started to understand. Harry began to grin. "You're protecting his son."
Midgen snorted. "You make that sound as if we weren't capable of such a thing, Boy Wonder."
Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to. But then, replaying his words back to himself, he begrudgingly agreed that it could be taken in that context. He was just surprised. You don't hear about things like this that the Death Eaters do. "Sorry."
She shrugged it off. "No matter. Besides, it's better to give something to guarantee you get something back. Nothing is ever free in this world."
"Are you always like this?" Draco from beside her asked. "All these words, being all mystical -- it's an act right?"
Ron and Harry hid their smiles when Midgen stiffened and her face grew red as a ripe tomato. Serves her right, Harry thought, mirth in his head. The lofty speech, the cryptic words -- what the hell did she was trying to do? If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was trying to impress them. Hell, she could be. But whether it was him and Ron or Draco she was trying to impress he couldn't guess.
The woman eyes' grew cold. But weren't they always cold? Harry wondered as she pursed her lips into a thin line. "Mystical? Act?"
Draco rolled his eyes in a very young manner. "No one talks like you."
"I talk like me," Midgen informed him. "And you talk like this!"
Groaning, Draco brought a hand to his face. "Don't tell me I become like you! Please kill me now. I don't think I would like to live knowing I'm like a Hufflepuff."
They really couldn't help themselves any longer. The way Midgen just seemed to get redder, and the way she looked like a cat on alert was just too much. And then there was Draco, behaving in a very Draco way.
In a rush, Harry was hit with a bit of nostalgia. The slightly disgusted look on Draco's face was a memory from the past. A good one too and that was a change from the norm. Too many memories he had weren't even remotely good so when he was reminded of one, he had to cherish it. It brought back all those memories of days when good was good and bad was bad. Now, things were just a bit more muddled up.
In a low voice, not at all threatening which made it seem even more so, Midgen started to speak. "For one thing, I started to talk like you, okay? You were this way long before I came onto the scene and another thing -- Hufflepuffs are loyal and we have always stuck by you. No Hufflepuff yet has ever betrayed you but when you take the others, how many have jumped ship? You've got two in Slytherin and they were in your house."
At that, Draco's sense of House pride was prickled. "Slytherins go with the winners," he retorted.
"And they flock over to Voldemort?" Harry spoke in disbelief. "He's going to lose; its inevitable."
Draco snapped his head to face Harry. "He is not," he said stubbornly.
"God, listen to you Malfoy! You're rooting for the bastard now?" Ron burst. He couldn't believe the kid. He was going on You-Know-Who's side just for the sake of argument. Idiot, he cursed in his mind.
"Why shouldn't I? He's a great leader, wants to change things for the better--"
"--by slaving the Muggle race, killing all non-purebloods and keeping his power through terror," Harry finished for him. "And don't pretend you don't hate him as much as we do. It's a bit late for that seeing as you've created and fulfilled a fantasy devoted to undermining your great leader," Harry finished for him.
With Harry's words, Draco fell silent, instinctively rebelling against the urge not to beat his point into the adult until he submitted. But the damned man was right, as much as he hated to admit it.
Feeling a bit sullen, he slumped down. His body was still aching and he didn't want to look too into the whys when it was them that he was trying to forget. He rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the throbbing that was starting to bother him.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked suddenly, concerned when he saw the way Draco winced and was now massaging his temples. The other two pairs of eyes followed Harry's gaze to Draco.
"Nothing," Draco muttered, his closing his eyes for a moment in a hard wink and then opening them up again.
Harry frowned. This little bit of reality brought him back to the present and everything that came before it, flew from his mind as thought it was never there.
He turned to Midgen who was watching Draco intently. He cleared his throat to get her attention and he slowly turned her head, her expression on her face clearing saying she would rather not be talking to him.
"Are you sure there's no other way out of here?"
"Yes," Midgen bit out. "I'm sure. If there is, Draco's the only one who'll know it and he doesn't exactly have the information in his head at the moment."
"No hidden tunnels? Magical walls? Nothing?" Harry grasped.
"No, nothing. If there was, do you think I would still be here?" Her voice couldn't hide her sarcasm but Harry forgave her. Everyone was on the last of their ropes.
"That doesn't seem like the Gregon," Ron commented. "He's always has had a fail-safe."
The blonde head lifted at the mention of the Gregon. Everything looked blurry to him since he had been rubbing his eyes and he shook his head to clear his vision.
Feeling lousy and just a bit irritable, Draco drawled, "And just how do you know this?"
"Because I know everything about the Gregon," Ron shot back. He felt a surge of satisfaction flow through him with the way Malfoy looked so taken back. Take that you little snit.
"If I were you, I wouldn't take pride in that, Weasley," Midgen defended. "Nothing to do but to become an expert on a supposedly fictional character?"
Ron stiffened on the insult. "It was before I knew who it was, but if I did, I assure you, I wouldn't have spent the time I did on it," he sneered.
Harry watched the exchange with curious eyes. Breathing in, he observed the similarities between the past and present. It was just the same as it had been when they were young. Malfoy would say something inappropriate and Ron would take offense.
He sighed loudly, loud enough for everyone else to note of him. Lowering his eyes, Harry shook his head. He didn't want to be here. He never wanted things to be this way. Yet somehow he was always hoped into these things that he had no business doing. For once in his life, he wished he could just put a stop to things, to yell to everyone that he wasn't going to play their game anymore and that he was done.
That's all he wanted to do. To finish the game.
But the game goes on and on and it never ends. The mere thought of that scared him. He was going to spend the rest of eternity playing the game that he never wanted to play in the first place.
And he couldn't stop; not when so many people are counting on him. He could just name them...
Ron for one.
Midgen for another, even though she might not want to admit it.
Draco, definitely since the other alternative would be death.
Hermione, to get her husband safely out alive.
Dumbledore to lead his people.
The Wizarding world down the youngest witch and the oldest wizard was out there hoping for a savior. They were hoping for him.
In the past, he had secretly enjoyed the thought of the Gregon. It was his hidden passion. Harry wasn't like Ron, who seemed to do things to the extreme, but he kept up on the stories of the Gregon. It thrilled him to learn of another, someone who had it worst than he did, but still fought. They were almost contemporaries.
Plus, any way to give up some of the responsibilities and hopes fostered on to him to this new guy was always a good thing. If he wanted to be this great undercover spy, it was fine with Harry. He would much rather have the Gregon have his spotlight.
The trouble was that things rarely ever go his way. If fate was of his own volition, then he would never have been here in the first place. Someone else, someone who cares and matters would be in his place.
Because when you got down to it, Harry really didn't want to care. He really didn't want to do what he had been devoting his life to. And he sure as hell didn't want to be stuck in a cell with a Draco Malfoy who was starting to get on his nerves, even if the way concern on his face looked endearingly cute.
Urg! Harry skidded to a stop in his head. Especially with all those random thoughts about Malfoy that I would rather not be having! he added, trying to forget whatever it had been that he had said about the blonde. Now was not the time.
It was never the time.
A/N: Wow, I'm here! And I wasn't supposed to be! LOL! I didn't want to post this originally simply because I don't like it. Just more of the repetitive nothing I drivel out. But have no fear, the next chapter is more or less finished and that has something more than this.
Extreme apologies to all who have been waiting for so long for this chapter. I'm sorry to have disappointed you with this mediocre stuff but hanging in there and hopefully I'll redeem myself in the next week.
KT: I know! :( I'm sorry! But at least I'm updating now... It's something...
Courteney: You've been making your way around my stories haven't you? My first thought was NO! Don't read it! because I thought it was a terrible story that is not even half as good in quality as any of yours but seeing as you've only reviewed chapter 2, I feel a bit better. And I thought the name would be a bit confusing with all those grey-eyed Dracos out there... I personally think he's blue-eyed with a grey tint but...
Princess Sparkle: Thanks! I can't wait until the potion wears off because that would be so much more fun to write than him as a child and Harry having lusty thoughts about his person... I am so going to hell for this story. Of course he will not be very accepting and most likely in denial but that's very typical I think. I'm glad you are liking this story and god knows, I would love be with Draco myself, but if he's happy with Harry, okay because they are a cute couple.
Prima Donna: Um, actually, if you want to use my name, it's Sherry. Jun is not me, has never been me (it's my father). I'm so glad you like it and I will try to remember to email you. Do you want me to keep updating you?
ekatya: Great name! And I'm not belittling myself! Wait a few chapters, you'll see how terribly cliche this will be. And surpasses the original books? *gasp* Never! JKR is God and I could never amount to Her greatness. But that's for the review!
Sheron: I'm updating now and thank you so much!
Tsuyuno: Dang girl, that's a long review! Draco is a Mary Sue? LOL! Never thought about that before. Mary Sues are actually perfect people with odd abilities and looks. Usually it's the eyes that you can tell a true Mary Sue -- but I love eyes, always have, always will so I do focus on eyes a lot. I've never seen Brian Froud's book and I've never read any of Peter S. Beagle's books... I think I have heard of them though. Oscar is as Midgen says, a spineless little twit. But he's my spineless little twit. :) Yup, Oscar's son Matt. Fluff/action -- a while bit simply because fluff would only happen when Draco's 27 and action because I don't do action very well and tend to gleam. How many chapters until Draco's 27? I want to say five, but at the rate I'm going, it might as well be ten because it seems like I take twice as long to do things... I'm working on it.
Tionne: Hey! It's been a long while hasn't it? I'm glad my Draco is someone else's Draco. Tells me I'm doing something right. But I tend to think of him as infallible and perfect but to me he is very perfect. Hmm... Does sound like a Mary Sue though. But he doesn't have that tragic a past. Not really. And the stutter is gone! And Ron will be shocked to say the least when he finds out the truth. Hopefully, he won't do something drastic like try and kill Draco, but you never know about those red heads. This chapter I think there are less hints of slash because it was very trying and I couldn't manage it very well... Draco won't be getting his memory for at least another day, but whether or not they'll still be on the island...? I'm not sure yet. This really shocks me that you would want to read this even though for the most part it's preslash and the slash part is so long in coming, but thanks! NC-17? That isn't possible any more I think, but if there's going to be very explicit sex, I'm going to be blushing through it all. Matt -- he's in between life and death for the moment. Where he will end up is up to the fates now.
WildfireFriendship: Thanks!
spherris: No problem! I'm glad you are liking it!
Yuoko Gingitsune: Goody!Draco -- scary little bugger he'd be. I wouldn't know how to handle him... Draco is very mysterious and very mistrusting. Of course he's a very well informed too so it helps for him to think a lot in his head. Though I sometimes question his penchant to keep things to himself -- see what sort of bind he's in? He's the only one who has the answers and he doesn't have them. Thanks for the review!
A/N 2: Okay a little info about the life of the story. I will try to finish it, truly I will try. As many people who try to balance life and fanfiction, it's pretty hard when you've got classes to go to and a job to manage along with the other stuff that seems to beg your attention. This year is a bit hard since I'm taking more challenging classes, and most the time I'm doing some reading for a course but I am trying to squeeze in writing. Plus I've got other fanfics that I've been working on. If it gets to the point where I am not posting for a few months, I will try and give you a short story or maybe the beginning chapters of my newest story that wasn't supposed to be posted until finish, but I think by that point I will be owing you something. I know it doesn't make up for it, and hopefully I won't go mental from now to the end of the school year. I have to plans to abandon this story though -- how long it takes for me to finish it is a whole another story. Ciao for now and please review. Give me your thoughts (or management tips for those who have struck a nice balance) because I feel like I'm just trying to stay afloat at the moment.