Disclaimer: Oh yes, of course they're mine. Just as the sun is made of ice
and money grows on trees. Miss Rowling? If you wish to sue please find
someone else, I can't even afford a lawyer let alone a settlement.
Warnings: The world is crashing down! BTW 'In the closet' is slang, in some countries (mainly the western world) it refers to being gay, in others it refers to being in jail (you know, like a cell and everything), and sometimes they just mean that they were sitting in their stupid closet. Just didn't want any more cultural differences messing around with peoples minds. ........ (See, I *can* be considerate :P)
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Blood & Nails.
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Part Twenty Five. In The Closet.
Harry sat on the bench, staring at the floor as his Patronus practically danced around him. It helped keep the Dementors far enough away so that he could stay conscious, but not far enough for him to avoid the cold feeling in his skin.
He'd been sitting there as soon as he had been charged and processed, which was five hours ago. No-one had come to talk to him since then, so he didn't know what was happening with Draco. And that was pretty much the only thing he could think of. He hated this not knowing thing, it was driving him crazy. He knew that if they caught him the execution would be reinstated, no trail, no testimonies, that would only be needed for when they went to trial for Harry's involvement.
When Draco had Disapparated, it had taken Ron by surprise for a few moments. Apparently he hadn't considered that Draco would have sorted through his newly returned memories enough for that, which Harry was grateful for. Though he wasn't too sure how far his lover could get before they caught up. Harry dropped his head into his hands again, wondering how he could have screwed this all up so much. He knew he shouldn't have revealed the truth, not yet, Draco had needed more time, but then again, Harry wasn't too sure that any amount of time would have been enough to prepare anyone for such a dramatic switch.
Then there was the small part of him that was relieved it was all out in the open. While he had been thrilled that he had managed to get Draco back, he couldn't completely overlook the fact that seventeen people had died since Draco had been released from Azkaban. Harry had tried everything he could think of to stop that from happening, the memory concealment, hopefully far back enough to stop whatever had turned Draco into a murderer ..... that hadn't seem to work. The brilliant idea of enforcing sleep upon him ..... had bounced as the blonde had the annoying habit of somehow waking up while under the strongest sleeping spell known, though it did leave him groggy and confused .... almost as if he was sleep walking.
And then even following him everywhere when he went out had failed. By the time Harry would reach where Draco was standing when he used the portkey, it was impossible for the tracer spell to be able to latch on to the last remaining energy strands so that Harry could follow them and go after him.
And now it was all out, everyone would know by the time the sun was up and Harry was being charged with accessory to seventeen murders and they would seriously consider checking to see if he had anything to do with the ones that had happened before Draco had been captured the first time. Harry didn't need anyone to come tell him to know that they were discussing whether he was liable for the death sentence. He had helped a killer get away, and people had died because of it, even he himself couldn't argue that he didn't really deserved that much. The truth was it scared the hell out of him when he thought about what he had done to save his fiancee, so he tried not to regularly.
Luckily, when he thought about Draco, which was quite a lot of the time, he didn't think about blood, death, or any of those things, he just thought about how lonely he was without him, just like he was right now. So thinking about Draco, helped him ignore that fact that he'd had a hand in seventeen murders. It was easier that way.
A coughing sound came from his right and he looked up, squinting slightly as his Patronus chose that moment to almost blind him. Hermione, Morgan and Ron were standing outside his cell, none of them looked very happy. In fact, Ron seemed to be refusing to acknowledge that Harry was there at all. He couldn't blame him.
"Hello." He said softly.
Morgan tried a smile, just missing the mark as Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ron didn't even look over.
"Well Harry. I'd say you were in a right mess." Hermione flicked a loose strand of her fringe back out of her face. "But I guess you have no-one but yourself to blame." Her voice was hostile, but she was trying to hide it.
Harry nodded slightly. "I guess." He sighed and looked back at the floor in front of him. "So, this means you haven't caught him yet?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I doubt very much that either you or Ron would come here, unless you needed me to think of a place he might go. Morgan might have come for another reason, but not you two."
"Can you blame us?" She hissed out.
He shook his head slowly. "No, not really."
Morgan cleared his throat. "Er, I only came because I'm not too sure what to do with this, Draco told me to look after him." Morgan pulled a sleeping Steel out from under his outer robes. "I dosed him up with a sleeping potion so that he'd stop scratching at the door. He seems really miserable without either of you."
Harry stuck his hand out through the bars and stroked the napping feline gently. "Yeah, you should probably give him back to Professor Snape. I guess he doesn't have an excuse to refuse now." Harry smiled, remembering how thrilled his former teacher had *not* been when Draco had presented him with a cat. Though he suspected now that Snape was rather fond of it, not that an admission of such kind would ever be uttered.
"Well?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts impatiently.
"What?"
"Where would he go?"
Harry thought about it for a few seconds. "He wouldn't go to his parents, he'd know that's the place you'd search the most. And he wouldn't go to Dumbledore because he couldn't be sure whether that would be to his advantage, or whether he'd be turned in. He wouldn't go to Russia ....." Harry trailed off.
Morgan frowned, putting Steel back in the large inside pocket. "Why would he go to Russia?"
"I don't know. But he's gone there before, for something. He never really talked about it. That always pissed me off."
"Who cares where he wouldn't go! Just tell us somewhere he would." Hermione was starting to lose her temper.
Harry scowled. "You know, if I went to all the trouble of getting him out of prison, why should I tell you where he would be now? Surely you thought of that?"
"Because Potter, whoever he goes to now might be in danger, whether they help him or not. Who knows how nasty he is now, what with his memories back and all."
Harry blinked. Hermione hadn't called him by his last name since they were in sixth year at Hogwarts. She only ever did that when curses were about to fly, and as his wand had been confiscated, it was not like he could defend himself. "Why should the memories make a difference? It didn't help to stop his need to kill."
"Which only proves my previous theory that I had submitted. He's clearly suffering from some splintered personality condition, where two or more minds occupy the same body. In all likelihood, Draco might be innocent, he might not remember a thing about the killings, not clearly anyway, but, and this usually happens at, he goes through the changeover period in where he comes out as Mortel. Studies haven't yet shown how Mortel can have his memories but we are working on that. And if Mortel is feeling threatened, well he's going to take action and ....."
"Yes, thank you Hermione. I did catch Fight Club at the cinema." Harry muttered back, starting to feel exhausted from the Dementors.
"Don't trivialise this by some stupid movie Potter, this is real! People are dead, REAL PEOPLE! Now, either you tell us where he would have gone, or you'll probably have their deaths added to your list of charges as well. If that's what you want then fine, but we have to stop him, before he flips the switch and goes into blood lust mode, you stupid, arrogant BASTARD!"
The last word was screamed and Harry flinched as the surge of emotions drew the Dementors closer. He looked back to them and saw Hermione, furious, Ron, still ignoring anything Harry related and Morgan, who almost looked piteous. "Harry? Now, you know me, and I'm having a hard enough time believing all this. I mean, well, it's me, Morgan, Draco's number one worshipper, but let's just look at this. If it *is* Draco ........ then whoever he's gone to could be in a lot of trouble." Morgan smiled weakly. "You don't want more people to die, do you?"
Harry rubbed his face and wondered whether he really did want more innocent blood to be on his hands. "Snape." He said finally. "He'll go to Severus."
"Oh for god's sake! Do we look as if we've had our brains removed? We looked there." Hermione spat back.
Harry made a small smile and shrugged. "Look harder." He returned his gaze to the floor. "That's where he'll be."
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Draco looked up from the stacks of paper work he was going through as Severus opened the door and looked in. "Did you have fun?"
"No, and they could be back at anytime. That's the second time they've searched here."
Draco shook his head. "They'll probably quit soon. The first time would have been of their own volition, then they would have gone to Harry and somehow convinced him to give them the best bet for my whereabouts."
"And he knows you would have come here?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, but he doesn't know about this place, so I should be okay."
"Are you absolutely sure he doesn't know about it?"
"I wouldn't be sitting in here if I wasn't." Draco flicked through some more paper work. "Hermione thinks I'm mental and that Mortel and I occupy the same body. She states that it's quite possible for him to know my memories, but for me not to remember the things that happened while he was in control." He snorted. "Personally, I think the girl has been watching too many American movies and that she should stick to patrolling and not dabble in amateur psychology."
"If she's right, then for all you know, she could be right, which is why I am slightly relieved your locked in here."
Draco grinned at the small joke and bowed his head to read some more. Severus excused himself and shut the door with the handle on the left side. He dragged it across the wood until it was positioned on the right side and then opened it again. This time, instead of showing the small room where Draco and the files had been, it showed a smaller space, with Severus' clothes hanging down. It was actually his wardrobe.
It was very wide, about three metres and had one of those doors that folded as it was on hinges, which made moving the handle quite difficult as it had to be taken across the part of the door panels that the middle hinge was holding together. It had originally been Draco's from his home but the young man had presented it to his former teacher as a gift on his graduation day, saying he didn't have anything to hide anymore now that he was 'out'. Few had understood what the blonde had been talking about, assuming it refer only to the 'in the closet' thing and only Draco known the full extent of his words.
Severus himself had hidden in that wardrobe when both sides had turned on him, believing him to be a traitor. He didn't know whether or not Draco had used it on anyone else, but sometimes when the young man looked at it, Severus got the impression that it held something of great significance to him.
But Draco rarely talked about his years as a spy, especially not after the incident just before the end of year six, and Severus felt it was not his place to intrude on such matters. He knew all too well that some things were better left forgotten.
That thought made him stop and look back. The idea that perhaps Draco was thinking having no memories of some things, could be a lot easier, occurred to the elder wizard. But Severus let it slide for now, knowing what Draco could be like when pressured into talking about something he didn't want to.
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Draco stared at the now closed door. The hidden room was not very large, and once a bed was placed in it, very little room was left at all. He'd only ever used it to hide other people, but had never had to resort to hiding himself in it, except that one time, but that was not quite the same, more like, keeping the person company as the other hid. Severus' stay had not been too bad, once they had both healed from their various injuries, because he trusted Draco and had known that any means, even one as drastic as that, had been necessary. But when it had been others that had hidden there, it had been much harder.
And then there were times involving that cupboard that he would rather not think about at all. Things he had trained himself not to think about, before the memory suppression. But he knew those weren't his fault so he let it go.
Draco rubbed his eyes, feeling exhausted and wondered how Harry was doing. The anger he had felt before was dimming slightly, but not by much.
But that didn't mean he didn't care.
To Be Continued.
Warnings: The world is crashing down! BTW 'In the closet' is slang, in some countries (mainly the western world) it refers to being gay, in others it refers to being in jail (you know, like a cell and everything), and sometimes they just mean that they were sitting in their stupid closet. Just didn't want any more cultural differences messing around with peoples minds. ........ (See, I *can* be considerate :P)
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.
.
Blood & Nails.
.
Part Twenty Five. In The Closet.
Harry sat on the bench, staring at the floor as his Patronus practically danced around him. It helped keep the Dementors far enough away so that he could stay conscious, but not far enough for him to avoid the cold feeling in his skin.
He'd been sitting there as soon as he had been charged and processed, which was five hours ago. No-one had come to talk to him since then, so he didn't know what was happening with Draco. And that was pretty much the only thing he could think of. He hated this not knowing thing, it was driving him crazy. He knew that if they caught him the execution would be reinstated, no trail, no testimonies, that would only be needed for when they went to trial for Harry's involvement.
When Draco had Disapparated, it had taken Ron by surprise for a few moments. Apparently he hadn't considered that Draco would have sorted through his newly returned memories enough for that, which Harry was grateful for. Though he wasn't too sure how far his lover could get before they caught up. Harry dropped his head into his hands again, wondering how he could have screwed this all up so much. He knew he shouldn't have revealed the truth, not yet, Draco had needed more time, but then again, Harry wasn't too sure that any amount of time would have been enough to prepare anyone for such a dramatic switch.
Then there was the small part of him that was relieved it was all out in the open. While he had been thrilled that he had managed to get Draco back, he couldn't completely overlook the fact that seventeen people had died since Draco had been released from Azkaban. Harry had tried everything he could think of to stop that from happening, the memory concealment, hopefully far back enough to stop whatever had turned Draco into a murderer ..... that hadn't seem to work. The brilliant idea of enforcing sleep upon him ..... had bounced as the blonde had the annoying habit of somehow waking up while under the strongest sleeping spell known, though it did leave him groggy and confused .... almost as if he was sleep walking.
And then even following him everywhere when he went out had failed. By the time Harry would reach where Draco was standing when he used the portkey, it was impossible for the tracer spell to be able to latch on to the last remaining energy strands so that Harry could follow them and go after him.
And now it was all out, everyone would know by the time the sun was up and Harry was being charged with accessory to seventeen murders and they would seriously consider checking to see if he had anything to do with the ones that had happened before Draco had been captured the first time. Harry didn't need anyone to come tell him to know that they were discussing whether he was liable for the death sentence. He had helped a killer get away, and people had died because of it, even he himself couldn't argue that he didn't really deserved that much. The truth was it scared the hell out of him when he thought about what he had done to save his fiancee, so he tried not to regularly.
Luckily, when he thought about Draco, which was quite a lot of the time, he didn't think about blood, death, or any of those things, he just thought about how lonely he was without him, just like he was right now. So thinking about Draco, helped him ignore that fact that he'd had a hand in seventeen murders. It was easier that way.
A coughing sound came from his right and he looked up, squinting slightly as his Patronus chose that moment to almost blind him. Hermione, Morgan and Ron were standing outside his cell, none of them looked very happy. In fact, Ron seemed to be refusing to acknowledge that Harry was there at all. He couldn't blame him.
"Hello." He said softly.
Morgan tried a smile, just missing the mark as Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ron didn't even look over.
"Well Harry. I'd say you were in a right mess." Hermione flicked a loose strand of her fringe back out of her face. "But I guess you have no-one but yourself to blame." Her voice was hostile, but she was trying to hide it.
Harry nodded slightly. "I guess." He sighed and looked back at the floor in front of him. "So, this means you haven't caught him yet?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I doubt very much that either you or Ron would come here, unless you needed me to think of a place he might go. Morgan might have come for another reason, but not you two."
"Can you blame us?" She hissed out.
He shook his head slowly. "No, not really."
Morgan cleared his throat. "Er, I only came because I'm not too sure what to do with this, Draco told me to look after him." Morgan pulled a sleeping Steel out from under his outer robes. "I dosed him up with a sleeping potion so that he'd stop scratching at the door. He seems really miserable without either of you."
Harry stuck his hand out through the bars and stroked the napping feline gently. "Yeah, you should probably give him back to Professor Snape. I guess he doesn't have an excuse to refuse now." Harry smiled, remembering how thrilled his former teacher had *not* been when Draco had presented him with a cat. Though he suspected now that Snape was rather fond of it, not that an admission of such kind would ever be uttered.
"Well?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts impatiently.
"What?"
"Where would he go?"
Harry thought about it for a few seconds. "He wouldn't go to his parents, he'd know that's the place you'd search the most. And he wouldn't go to Dumbledore because he couldn't be sure whether that would be to his advantage, or whether he'd be turned in. He wouldn't go to Russia ....." Harry trailed off.
Morgan frowned, putting Steel back in the large inside pocket. "Why would he go to Russia?"
"I don't know. But he's gone there before, for something. He never really talked about it. That always pissed me off."
"Who cares where he wouldn't go! Just tell us somewhere he would." Hermione was starting to lose her temper.
Harry scowled. "You know, if I went to all the trouble of getting him out of prison, why should I tell you where he would be now? Surely you thought of that?"
"Because Potter, whoever he goes to now might be in danger, whether they help him or not. Who knows how nasty he is now, what with his memories back and all."
Harry blinked. Hermione hadn't called him by his last name since they were in sixth year at Hogwarts. She only ever did that when curses were about to fly, and as his wand had been confiscated, it was not like he could defend himself. "Why should the memories make a difference? It didn't help to stop his need to kill."
"Which only proves my previous theory that I had submitted. He's clearly suffering from some splintered personality condition, where two or more minds occupy the same body. In all likelihood, Draco might be innocent, he might not remember a thing about the killings, not clearly anyway, but, and this usually happens at, he goes through the changeover period in where he comes out as Mortel. Studies haven't yet shown how Mortel can have his memories but we are working on that. And if Mortel is feeling threatened, well he's going to take action and ....."
"Yes, thank you Hermione. I did catch Fight Club at the cinema." Harry muttered back, starting to feel exhausted from the Dementors.
"Don't trivialise this by some stupid movie Potter, this is real! People are dead, REAL PEOPLE! Now, either you tell us where he would have gone, or you'll probably have their deaths added to your list of charges as well. If that's what you want then fine, but we have to stop him, before he flips the switch and goes into blood lust mode, you stupid, arrogant BASTARD!"
The last word was screamed and Harry flinched as the surge of emotions drew the Dementors closer. He looked back to them and saw Hermione, furious, Ron, still ignoring anything Harry related and Morgan, who almost looked piteous. "Harry? Now, you know me, and I'm having a hard enough time believing all this. I mean, well, it's me, Morgan, Draco's number one worshipper, but let's just look at this. If it *is* Draco ........ then whoever he's gone to could be in a lot of trouble." Morgan smiled weakly. "You don't want more people to die, do you?"
Harry rubbed his face and wondered whether he really did want more innocent blood to be on his hands. "Snape." He said finally. "He'll go to Severus."
"Oh for god's sake! Do we look as if we've had our brains removed? We looked there." Hermione spat back.
Harry made a small smile and shrugged. "Look harder." He returned his gaze to the floor. "That's where he'll be."
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Draco looked up from the stacks of paper work he was going through as Severus opened the door and looked in. "Did you have fun?"
"No, and they could be back at anytime. That's the second time they've searched here."
Draco shook his head. "They'll probably quit soon. The first time would have been of their own volition, then they would have gone to Harry and somehow convinced him to give them the best bet for my whereabouts."
"And he knows you would have come here?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, but he doesn't know about this place, so I should be okay."
"Are you absolutely sure he doesn't know about it?"
"I wouldn't be sitting in here if I wasn't." Draco flicked through some more paper work. "Hermione thinks I'm mental and that Mortel and I occupy the same body. She states that it's quite possible for him to know my memories, but for me not to remember the things that happened while he was in control." He snorted. "Personally, I think the girl has been watching too many American movies and that she should stick to patrolling and not dabble in amateur psychology."
"If she's right, then for all you know, she could be right, which is why I am slightly relieved your locked in here."
Draco grinned at the small joke and bowed his head to read some more. Severus excused himself and shut the door with the handle on the left side. He dragged it across the wood until it was positioned on the right side and then opened it again. This time, instead of showing the small room where Draco and the files had been, it showed a smaller space, with Severus' clothes hanging down. It was actually his wardrobe.
It was very wide, about three metres and had one of those doors that folded as it was on hinges, which made moving the handle quite difficult as it had to be taken across the part of the door panels that the middle hinge was holding together. It had originally been Draco's from his home but the young man had presented it to his former teacher as a gift on his graduation day, saying he didn't have anything to hide anymore now that he was 'out'. Few had understood what the blonde had been talking about, assuming it refer only to the 'in the closet' thing and only Draco known the full extent of his words.
Severus himself had hidden in that wardrobe when both sides had turned on him, believing him to be a traitor. He didn't know whether or not Draco had used it on anyone else, but sometimes when the young man looked at it, Severus got the impression that it held something of great significance to him.
But Draco rarely talked about his years as a spy, especially not after the incident just before the end of year six, and Severus felt it was not his place to intrude on such matters. He knew all too well that some things were better left forgotten.
That thought made him stop and look back. The idea that perhaps Draco was thinking having no memories of some things, could be a lot easier, occurred to the elder wizard. But Severus let it slide for now, knowing what Draco could be like when pressured into talking about something he didn't want to.
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Draco stared at the now closed door. The hidden room was not very large, and once a bed was placed in it, very little room was left at all. He'd only ever used it to hide other people, but had never had to resort to hiding himself in it, except that one time, but that was not quite the same, more like, keeping the person company as the other hid. Severus' stay had not been too bad, once they had both healed from their various injuries, because he trusted Draco and had known that any means, even one as drastic as that, had been necessary. But when it had been others that had hidden there, it had been much harder.
And then there were times involving that cupboard that he would rather not think about at all. Things he had trained himself not to think about, before the memory suppression. But he knew those weren't his fault so he let it go.
Draco rubbed his eyes, feeling exhausted and wondered how Harry was doing. The anger he had felt before was dimming slightly, but not by much.
But that didn't mean he didn't care.
To Be Continued.