UNDER MY SPELL
Whoa, creepy chapter last time, huh? Don't worry; it will make sense when I get around to explaining it. This story should be over in say, another two chapters, besides this one. See ya in the funny papers!
CHAPTER ELEVEN: SECOND CHANCES
Harry was horribly confused. Where was he? Why had Draco attacked him? And how did Cho fit into all of this?
He looked around the room. There was a large desk, bookshelves, a fire in the hearth, and a plant in the corner. Ordinary. But the woman standing before him was anything but ordinary. He hadn't heard any news about her for years. She'd gotten a job as seeker for a regional team, then had taken a bad fall that had almost cost her career. She'd taken a leave of absence, and never returned. That was three years ago.
Harry looked at Draco now. His face was stony, and revealed nothing. How was he involved with Cho? Harry decided it was time to start asking questions.
"What is going on here?"
A sly smile spread on Cho's face. "It's a long story Harry. It began ten years ago. Do you remember what happened ten years ago?" Her voice was hard, and showed no sign of breaking.
Harry paused. Cedric's death was ten years ago…But what did that have to do with anything?
"Cedric…"
"How quick you are, Potter. You always were smart." She ran a hand through her dark hair, the first sign that she had any emotion. Draco remained silent. She continued, "I was in love with Cedric. All of my friends were jealous that I was going to the ball with him. But one night I told one of my friends that I loved him, and she just laughed at me. She said, 'Don't be silly, Cho. You aren't in love.' But I was. I always have been."
Harry didn't know what to say. He'd gotten over Cho quickly. That little crush was just that: a silly little crush. He'd been in love with Ginny forever it seemed.
"And you," she ran a finer across his chin in a gesture of malice, "killed him."
"What? Cho, we took the cup together. I didn't know it was a portkey. The first thing we heard when we landed was, 'Kill the spare'. I didn't kill Cedric. Voldemort did. I spent a long time blaming myself for his—"
"Silence. It was your fault, your fault!" she screamed. "I was in love, and he died! It broke my heart, and you did it!" She took a deep breath to calm herself. "And I'm going to take my revenge."
Harry had to think quickly. How desperate was she? Would she really kill him? Why had she kept these feelings to herself for ten years? Whatever the answers, he had to keep her talking until someone noticed that he and Draco were missing.
"What about your Quiddich career?"
"What about it?" she spat. "It was a constant reminder of Cedric. We used to fly around the pitch at night at school. I just couldn't do it anymore. After the fall, I stopped flying. I had no intention of going back. I haven't been on a broom in over three years."
"What have you been doing since then?" His plan seemed to be working. He wondered why Draco was being so quiet and how he fit into it all, and what was really in store for him.
"After Fudge was sent to Azkaban, I didn't think there were anymore dark orders. I went to a bar in Knockturn Alley one night, and I met Lucius Malfoy. He told me about a little group he was planning. Small, discrete, slow to gain followers but powerful in a few years. I joined. And the rest is history."
"What about you, Draco? Part of this order too?"
Draco looked Harry up and down. He had suggested to Cho that they kidnap Ginny, as sort of a symbolic deal. Then Potter would know what it was like to live without love. But she wouldn't hear it. She wanted to kill him. She was that desperate.
"No," he answered truthfully. "I don't associate with my father anymore. Cho thought of me for a job because of my father, however." He might as well confess. "I've been tailing you, making reports to Cho since October."
"YOU WHAT? You came into my life, toyed with my friends' lives just to get me here? You put Ginny, Hermione and Ron in danger? I could just—"
"Could what? I fear you are outnumbered Potter." Cho grinned wickedly.
***
MEANWHILE…
Ron and Ginny were in the living room with the remainder of the guests when George burst in. He looked harried and out of breath.
"What's the matter George? Where's Katie?" Ginny asked. "Is she all right?"
"Yes—yes, she's fine. But I—"
"Where is she, George?" Ginny repeated.
"At home. She was very tired and didn't think she could..." he took a breath, "make it. But that isn't important. Where's Harry?"
Ron frowned. "I don't know. Gin?"
Ginny shook her head. "I guess he must still be with Draco. After you took Hermione upstairs, he asked Harry if he could speak to him."
"That's what I was afraid of. I was coming down the street, and I saw Harry and Draco come out of the house. I was going to run and greet them, but something was wrong. I waited a beat, and Draco put the full Body-Bind on Harry and then took a portkey out of here."
"Oh God." Ginny gasped. "Where do you think he took him? How could Draco do this?"
Belle sauntered in from the kitchen. "What about Draco?"
"He kidnapped Harry! That no good bastard…We trusted him. Well, everyone but Hermione," he muttered the last part.
"What are we standing around for? Where's Fred? We need him and Hermione. She'll know a spell or something to find out where the portkey led to." George looked around and called, "Fred!"
"What?" Fred came in from the kitchen, Angelina at his heels.
They explained the situation to him, and he agreed that they needed Hermione. She was the only one who would be able to determine where the portkey led to, because Draco had taken it with him. Only specially trained witches and wizards knew that sort of spell.
"But she's crocked," Ron protested.
"Easily remedied. George and I have gotten ourselves drunk enough time to know how to become sober again."
Angelina shot him a glare. "Well, it's gonna come in handy, so what's the point in torturing me now?" Fred asked.
"We just need a few common kitchen staples, with a touch of magic, and she'll be good as new. We call it the Weasley Kick," George explained.
"Whatever it is, just hurry!" Ginny exclaimed. If they didn't get there soon, what would Draco do to Harry?
The boys led the group to the kitchen and began mixing ingredients. Ginny winced as she saw them pour a generous amount of vinegar and lemon juice into a large glass. They cracked two eggs and added some vanilla.
"Vanilla?" Ron asked.
"For flavor." Fred grinned. "Okay George, you do the honors."
"With pleasure." George tapped his wand on the side of the glass and muttered a spell, and the mixture turned green.
"Oh, that's terrible," Angelina commented. "I think I'd rather have a hangover."
"Nonsense. It tastes like a milkshake," Fred explained. "Ron, take this up to her and make sure she drinks it all. Time is of the essence."
Ron nodded at Fred's grim humor. He climbed the stairs carefully so as not to spill a drop. He opened the door to Hermione's room—their room—and saw her sprawled across the bed.
"Hermione? Wake up, baby. We need you. Harry's missing." He sat down next to her and lifted her head up.
"Ron, is that you? Oh, my head…"
"Here now. Fred and George made this to make you feel better." He tipped the glass to her lips and helped her swallow.
"Mmm. Is it a milkshake?"
Ron chuckled. When she had gotten it all down, he helped her out of bed and quickly helped her change into fresh clothes.
"Better?"
"Much. Did you say that Harry is missing?"
"Yeah. George rushed in five minutes ago to say that Draco had put him in a Body-Bind and taken a portkey. You're the only one who knows how to figure out where a portkey went without the actual object."
"Let's get moving. It's a simple process, but I need to calculate it exactly."
They rushed down the stairs and found that Ginny and Angelina had gotten rid of the last few guests. Only Belle remained.
The group hurried outside and Hermione whipped out her wand. "Around here, George?"
"By the gate."
They watched as Hermione picked up a handful of dirt and point her wand at it. Nothing happened. She threw the dirt down and gathered another handful, and repeated the action. This time, the dirt turned an emerald green.
Hermione nodded. "This is it. The dirt carries a magical dust left by the portkey," she explained. "Now I run a test on how much of this dust is left, which is directly proportional to the amount of dust on the original portkey. Anyone have a quill and a spare bit of parchment?"
"I do," George said. He pulled them out of his pocket and handed them over to Hermione.
"Right." She set the quill on top of the paper on the ground, and pointed her wand at the dirt again. "Empirio Formatula."*
The quill began writing furiously, and when it stopped, Hermione looked at the data. "Okay. Now I need the mass of the dirt," she muttered.
The quill took that down as well.
"The last step is to divide by the smallest mole of dust, which will give me the proportion, so I can multiply and know how much dust was originally on the can. That will tell me how far away the can was supposed to take them. The more dust, the farther away."
"I think you lost most of us, Hermione," Fred said.
She shrugged. "Well, according to my calculations, the proportion is about seventeen, which comes out to be about three hundred miles. The portkey took Harry and Draco three hundred miles away, which would put them…just outside London."
Ron swung Hermione up in his arms. "You're brilliant, you know that?"
"We aren't done yet, Ron. Just outside London could be anywhere."
"So how do we pinpoint exactly?" George asked. "We're running short on time."
Ginny sniffled, trying to hold back tears.
"Aw, Gin. It'll be okay. We have Hermione Granger on the job," George comforted.
"Hermione Weasley," Hermione corrected.
"Even better," Fred added.
"Okay, now three hundred miles, southeast, is my guess. If I take that and plug it into this simple equation I discovered…" she scribbled notes and calculations on the parchment. "There. I have the latitude and longitude. Now we can Apparate there. You can tell me I'm brilliant later. Let's go."
Harry knew he was running out of time. There was only so much he could distract Cho with. He also didn't want to get her upset. He knew there had to be a way out of this. There just had to be. And he thought maybe that way was Draco.
Cho had taken to sitting behind her desk. She seemed to be writing out an owl. Harry saw Draco's face take on concern. Why would Draco be upset if Cho was writing to someone? Unless that someone was Lucius Malfoy.
He chanced a glance at Draco. He thought his guess was dead on. How could he use this to get the hell out of here?
"Draco," he hissed.
Draco looked over to Harry. He had a chance to do something right, he thought. He had an opportunity to let Harry go, and to come to grips with his past. His thoughts turned to Belle. Maybe she would…no. Belle wouldn't be a part of his life. Why would she want to be? But he could make things right with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and in some way, Neville. He felt he owed them that.
"Cho," he started.
"Yes Draco? What are you still doing here? You said you wanted nothing to do with this end of the plan. That's where dear old Lucius comes in."
"Keep that bastard out of this."
Cho raised a brow. "How dare you speak of your father that way. He…he saved me."
"He did no such thing. He's using you to get to Potter. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."
"No! He cares about me! He cares that Cedric is dead!" She stood, and there were tears streaking down her face. "Dumbledore didn't care. He made that speech at the end of the year, and it didn't mean anything. 'Remember Cedric Diggory' my ass! He only cared that Potter was alive! But Lucius cares! He does!" She leaned on the desk and took some steadying breaths.
"You aren't going to kill me, are you?"
Her head shot up. "That's what you think, Potter," she spat.
"No, you aren't. You were going to have Lucius do it. Because you don't have the heart to kill." Harry was taking a risk.
"You know nothing about me!" She was breaking down. Draco looked at Harry, and nodded his head. He mouthed 'On three'.
Harry timed it in his head, and then he and Draco lunged across the office and grabbed Cho. Harry shot ropes from his wand while Draco grabbed the letter away from the owl and threw it in the fire.
The door burst open, and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Angelina, and Belle rushed into the room. They stopped short, surveying the scene.
"DRACO! You traitor!" Cho cried. "I never thought you'd take Potter's side!"
Hours later, Cho had been taken off to the Ministry for questioning. Harry realized that Cho believed that Draco played her for a fool, and that he was really on Harry's side. No one would have to know that Draco was truly working for Cho if Harry didn't tell anyone. And Draco had saved him. If Lucius had come, there was no way Harry would have survived with three against one.
So he'd keep his mouth shut. Everyone deserved a second chance.
"Cho Chang? Oh Harry, I never knew she was so deeply scarred from Cedric's death," Ginny said. They were sitting on a bench outside of Cho's former office waiting for Ministry officials to give them the okay to head home. It was nearing three in the morning.
"I know. I almost feel sorry for her. But that's no excuse to join the dark side." Hermione huddled closer to Ron.
"At least Draco saved Harry," Belle said.
Draco looked over at Harry, but Harry just nodded and smiled.
Hermione was the only one who saw the exchange.
I haven't much to say here. Let me know what you think! Always R&R!
*The Empirical Formula is a chemistry thing. You'll get it when you take chem. It almost works in this context, but not really.