THE MANOR

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated characters and stuff all belongs to JKR and Warner Bros, not me. Got it?

Chapter 13 – Plans

Hermione sighed. 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi was getting just a little dull. They were about a quarter of the way through, and still, nothing had happened to them. Nothing. Big fat zero. Unless one counted the lump of stale bread and bowl of water that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the cell, which they had both fallen onto hungrily. The water was particularly appreciated. Reciting magical herbs and fungi was dry work, and now, Hermione and Ron were silent, their throats just a little too sore and swollen from reciting non-stop. However, every now and then, Hermione would pipe up with half-hearted attempt at giving the details of a random herb or fungus.

'Mistletoe, traditionally …' she began murmuring, but gave up. It was too much of an effort. She took another sip of the water, which was thankfully plentiful.

Ron was leaning back against the damp cell walls, eyes blank and staring at the wall opposite him, stuck in a daze from all the studying. Suddenly, he snapped out of it.

'We should escape,' he said abruptly.

'What?' Hermione asked, looking at him as if he had grown an extra nostril or something of the like.

'This is hopeless,' Ron gestured at the walls of the cell that almost seemed to close in on them. 'I'm not going to just sit here and wait for Harry to come.'

Hermione nodded, and then shook her head wearily. It was very admirable for Ron to have such sentiments but there was nothing they could do.

'Do you think anyone's noticed we're missing yet?' Ron asked her.

Hermione thought for a moment. 'Maybe. What time do you think it is?'

'Morning maybe? Late morning? Early afternoon?' Ron guessed vaguely.

'How about which day?' Hermione added wryly. She and Ron both had no idea how long they had been unconscious for. It could have been weeks for all they knew, although Hermione doubted that. It had been weeks, they would both be notably skinnier, with gaunt faces, and a lot more accumulated dirt on their bodies.

'I don't usually skip classes, so somebody must have noticed. Harry probably has,' Hermione thought out loud, bleakly. 'Harry would notice if we were missing.' Thinking about Harry made her fearful for his safety, although she longed to see his comforting face again, and she carefully tried to avoid thinking about it.

'Dammit,' Ron kicked the wall before him, and cast his eyes about. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the cell door, and stood up suddenly, groaning as his limbs creaked. He went over to the door and peered outside downwards.

'Well?' Hermione asked impatiently, as Ron made a noise of amazement.

'It's not actually locked,' Ron said incredulously.

'What?' Hermione jumped up quickly to the door. She too looked outside, although with effort, for she didn't have Ron's gangly height. He helped lift her up, and she breathed in, a grin breaking out onto her face, exultance coursing through her veins, heart pumping faster. 'It's only bolted from the outside,' she said, voice wondering and awed as Ron lowered her back to the ground.

Ron tried to stick his arm through the iron bars, but the gaps were too narrow, and his hand became stuck. 'Here you try,' he suggested to Hermione.

Hermione tried, but was too short, and again, Ron lifted her up, as she excitedly stuck her arm into the gap between the bars. 'Ouch!' she grimaced. 'My arm's stuck.'

And so it was.

'Can you reach the bolt?' Ron asked anxiously.

'No.' Hermione tried again, but the pressure on her arm was too great. She tried pulling her arm out. 'My arm is really stuck.'

She pulled back a couple times, and finally, landed with an oomph on the ground on top of Ron. They both scrambled up at once, while Hermione inspected her arm gingerly. No cuts or anything, she noted with relief.

'The bars,' Hermione said, frowning. 'They're rusty. Maybe we could break them?' she suggested.

'How?' Ron wondered. He put a hand on them and tried to shake them out, but although they creaked promisingly, stubbornly refused to give way.

Hermione looked about their little prison. None of the rocks that made the walls of the cell had given way, so they couldn't hope to bash their way through the rusting iron. But maybe the bowl which their water had been in. It was made of metal, and looked auspiciously solid.

She picked it up, reluctant to let the water spill. 'You could use this bowl and hit it,' she presented one idea.

'We'd lose our water,' Ron pointed out.

'We wouldn't need it if we'd escaped,' Hermione retorted, although she privately agreed with Ron. The plan may not work, and they would need the water for who knew when they would be resupplied?

She stared at the rusting iron bars, searching her mind for inspiration.

Ron kicked the door just a little impatiently. 'I wish we could make the bars rust just a bit more,' Ron said scowling at the rusting, but not quite rusted enough, bars.

Make the bars rust a bit more … the words echoed in Hermione's mind, and, a lightbulb appeared above her head. Hermione jumped up, eyes bright with enlightenment. 'You're a genius, Ron!' she exclaimed, and hugged Ron tightly.

Ron blushed bright red, and shrugged in her tight grasp. 'I thought we'd broken up, Hermione,' he said awkwardly.

Hermione chuckled. 'You're a genius!' she just repeated, but let him go.

'Thank you,' Ron said blankly.

'Do you think the bars are magicked?' she asked Ron, brain clearly working hard beneath her cranium.

'Maybe not,' Ron said, dubiously.

Hermione grinned. 'It wouldn't hurt to try.'

She took some water from the bowl, cupping it in her hands carefully, and poured it onto the bar on the edge that looked weakest, and also closest to the bolt.

'What are you doing?' Ron asked her, confused.

Hermione paused on her way back to the bowl to get more water. 'Rusting,' she explained. 'I found this out last summer because I was curious about the rusting happening on our garden shed in our backyard. I asked my cousin, who's an engineer.'

'Well?' Ron didn't look any more clued in.

'You can speed up the process of rusting,' she described as simply as possible. 'You need two essential things for rust to take place – water, and air. But you can speed it up. By adding a salt solution, and also by heating it up. Contact with a less active metal, such as copper, also helps.'

Hermione reached into her pocket. 'Isn't it interesting,' she said mildly. 'I just happened to have this copper coin. It's pure copper – it's also very old, but it's copper alright. And I think,' she hesitated, 'I should be able to produce a flame and heat it up from the outside without interference from any spells.'

Ron nodded. Producing blue-coloured flames had been Hermione's specialty – she had been able to do it since first year, and he had a feeling she could probably do it without a wand spontaneously if lucky.

'But where would you get salt from?' Ron had caught on to her plan, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation of freedom.

Hermione smiled wryly. 'Start crying. Now.'

***

Harry sighed wearily. It was unbearable. They had been flying non stop for over twelve hours, and Draco still hadn't suggested they stop. He was going forwards, pointed face determined, seemingly unaware of the hot sun that was a sharp contrast to the biting air that swept at them as they flew.

Harry's rear end was feeling delicate. He had never sat for quite so long, and despite the Cushioning Charm on his Firebolt, he still had the strong feeling that once he got off, he wouldn't be able to sit for awhile. In the meantime, his stomach growled embarrassingly a few times, each time causing him to give Malfoy a furtive look, hoping the other boy hadn't noticed. He hadn't eaten since dinner last night, which seemed a very long time ago to the adolescent, growing boy.

He flew on in silence for a few more minutes, before he finally burst out, unable to stand it any longer. 'Can't we stop for a while, or were you planning to keep going without any breaks?' he asked irritably.

Draco glanced over at Harry. To be completely truthful, Draco was a bit tired, not that he'd ever admit it to Harry. He wasn't quite as hungry as Harry was, but he was beginning to feel a little windswept. And despite Harry's belief that Draco did not even feel the sun, it was quite the opposite. Draco had begun regretting his decision to wear black ever since the sun came out. Black was all very well at night, but not in the glaring bright sunshine. Maybe he should have brought a white sunshade or something ridiculous like that.

'Tired, are we, Potter?' he drawled, unable to keep a smirk from his face. It was nice to see that Potter wasn't quite as faultless as he was supposed to be.

Harry's face went red. 'I'd like to regain my energy before we go crashing on,' Harry said, trying to retain some dignity.

'I suppose we could stop for a while,' Draco said patronisingly, the way a God would speak to mere mortals.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, ignoring this spot of condescension, and headed down towards a patch of grass next to a bubbling stream. He stumbled off his Firebolt in exhaustion, and collapsed onto the grass, while Draco more decorously got off his Nimbus, and studied the area around him, before relaxing onto the grass in an casually elegant and tranquil pose.

Harry pulled off his rucksack which had been on his back. His contained food, while Draco's identical bag held drinks. He pulled out a couple of sandwiches.

'Here,' he chucked a sandwich to Draco, and began munching on his own contentedly.

Draco held the sandwich gingerly, and opened it. 'Ham,' he said, distastefully, getting a strong feeling of déjà vu.

'You got a problem with that?' Harry asked breezily, feeling very comfortable now that he was lying down, shaded from the sun, and being fed.

'I'm allergic to ham,' Draco said smoothly. No need for Potter to know. It had taken Crabbe and Goyle weeks to stop laughing at him about his vegetarian habits in first year, and he'd been labelled several not very nice terms by many of the others for weeks before he'd managed to get them to shut it.

Harry rolled his eyes, as he dug into the rucksack again. 'Have a quiche,' he handed over a small round quiche to Draco. 'Dobby's packed a feast in here,' he commented amiably as he sank his teeth into his sandwich again.

Draco broke open the quiche, studied the contents, and put it carefully down on his lap. Harry didn't realise he wasn't eating, until he'd polished off his first sandwich, whereupon he stared at Draco.

'Not hungry?'

'I'm allergic to bacon,' Draco said curtly.

Harry shrugged, took the quiche to eat himself, and dug about in the rucksack. 'There's a sausage roll,' he suggested.

'I'm allergic to the stuff inside.'

'Are you allergic to everything?' Harry complained. 'No wonder you're so weedy.'

'I am not weedy,' Draco said hotly. 'And even if I were to be considered so, at least I have a reason. My allergies. You, on the other hand, don't.'

'I'm not weedy!' Harry exclaimed.

'You most definitely are,' Draco said decisively.

'I'm taller than you are,' Harry protested, trying to prove his "manliness."

'How tall?'

'Five foot eight,' Harry answered.

Draco smiled smugly. 'Five foot eight and a bit.'

'You're lying,' Harry said bluntly.

'And I'm still growing,' Draco added. 'Grew two inches in the holidays.'

'You so are not taller than me!' Harry retorted. He stood up. 'Compare.'

Draco shrugged, and complied. They stood back to back, and rather childishly, kept trying to measure who was taller. Any onlooker would have seen at once that they were the exact same height, but neither of the boys would ever accept that.

'I'm taller,' Draco said finally.

'Are not,' Harry said automatically. Then, sick of squabbling, sat down, and continued eating the quiche.

'Pass me the bag,' Draco ordered. Harry shrugged and passed it over, and Draco dug about the contents, and eventually, pulled out a salad roll, satisfied. Evidently Dobby hadn't forgotten that his past master had been a vegetarian. With luck, Harry wouldn't have to know.

Harry ate quickly, and soon, settled down on the grass, stomach remarkably contented, while Draco sat, playing with his wand, as he too rested. It was all actually very pleasant, Harry thought drowsily, with the warm sunshine playing on his face, the sound of water bubbling, and the swishing sound of a breeze tousling the leaves on the trees and the long blades of grass. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that Draco Malfoy were sitting not far from him, he would feel extremely content and satisfied.

His eyelids grew heavier, and he let them drop gratefully, as his mind lulled itself to rest.

Kill the spare … a flash of green light …

Harry gasped, and sat up, his eyes wide open. Voldemort …

'What is it, Potter?' Draco asked, looking over at Harry quizzically.

Kill the spare. Harry shuddered. What if Voldemort were to kill Hermione and Ron, the 'spares?' He remembered all too fully again the dreams he had, both of Cedric, and of Hermione and Ron lying on stone floor … dead.

'Potter,' Draco said impatiently. 'We'd better get moving.'

Harry nodded, and stood up and picked up his broom without a word, the pit stop over. The two returned to the air, and Draco, touching his hand to his chest again, jerked his head to the right.

'That way.'

***

Ginny, Fred and George virtually raced each other to the gargoyles that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office, using several short cuts.

'How did you know the way?' Ginny asked breathlessly as they skidded to a slower pace near the office.

'We've been here so often,' Fred shrugged. 'It's hard not to know if you've come here a dozen or so times.'

'I should have known,' Ginny said wryly. 'I'm surprised it's only a dozen times. I thought you two had gotten into trouble many more times. A dozen's quite tame really.'

'Of course we've been in trouble more,' Fred sounded injured by her suggestion. 'The other times we were dealt with solely by McGonagall or Snape or the others, so we didn't really need to come here.'

'Of course,' Ginny murmured politely. They had stopped, in front of the gargoyles, and Ginny stared at the imposing, grotesque statues with trepidation. She had only been to Dumbledore's office once, in her second year, and she couldn't remember anything about getting up there. She had been too distraught then. 'How do we get in?' she asked quietly.

George was consulting the Marauder's Map. 'The password's Canary Creams, apparently,' he said, voice surprised.

'Really?' Fred sounded pleased and satisfied. 'Our products are spreading.'

'That's a funny password,' Ginny commented as a gargoyle sprung aside.

'Dumbledore likes using sweets as passwords,' George explained. 'Maybe he thinks it's amusing or something.'

'He's just cracked, that's all,' Fred said flippantly as they stepped onto the spiralling, moving stairs. They reached the large doors in no time, and Ginny reached up a hand to knock, when the doors opened before them.

'Come in, Miss Weasley, Mr Weasleys,' the Headmaster's calm voice said.

Ginny and the twins entered the peaceful round room, with its soothing portraits of dozing past headmasters or headmistresses, and silvery whirring instruments. Fawkes, the phoenix, sat on his perch, regarding them with solemn eyes, his brilliant feathers gleaming brightly.

'What is the matter?' Dumbledore asked, light blue eyes serious yet in some way comforting. Those eyes quickly scanned the three teenagers from where he sat behind his desk.

'Harry, Ron and Hermione are missing,' Ginny blurted out. 'They're not in the school, and I've got a bad feeling about it all.'

Dumbledore's face paled just slightly under his long beard.

'Are you sure?' he asked, voice steady.

'We have our sources,' Fred said, trying to be vague and keep the Map secret.

'Ah, yes,' Dumbledore nodded, and the twins gave each other uncomfortable looks. Maybe their Map wasn't quite so secret. 'Where could they possibly be?' he mused, his hands clenched. Suddenly he looked over at the Weasley kids. 'Is anybody else in the school missing?' he asked sharply.

'We're not sure,' George said, perplexed by the question. Why would anybody else in the school be missing?

'Well do consult your sources and find out,' Dumbledore said patiently. He raised a brow as Fred and George gave each other awkward looks, and then turned around in his chair. 'I'm not looking,' he said, a little amused despite the tension that had not left his voice. 'Go ahead and ask your sources.'

Ginny hid a smile, as Fred and George quickly consulted their source – a ragged piece of parchment. And then both twin's faces turned, as one, a sickly white shade, before going greenish yellow. 'Sir, Malfoy's missing too,' Fred said, distaste dripping in his voice.

Dumbledore turned around at once, and Fred stuffed the Map into his pocket hurriedly. 'Draco Malfoy?' he asked, voice urgent.

Fred and George both nodded. 'Our source is reliable,' George added helplessly.

Dumbledore stood up, his face grim. 'We're going to have to take some course of action, then, it would appear.' He went over to the fireplace in the study, and threw glittering powder into it.

'Sirius Black,' he shouted.

The head of Sirius appeared in the flames then, and the three Weasleys' eyes widened. Sirius Black, escaped convict?

'What is it, Albus?' Sirius asked, looking at Dumbledore.

'Harry, Hermione and Ron are missing,' Dumbledore said crisply, and the Weasleys saw Sirius' eyes widen in fear. 'I want you to come to Hogwarts now. Get Remus and Mundungus on your way.'

'Right,' Sirius said, quickly, and his head faded from the flames.

Dumbledore held up a hand to throw more powder into the flames, but stopped mid action, and turned to the three Weasleys. 'I want you to go and get Professors Figg, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick,' he ordered them.

'But sir –' Fred pointed his finger at the flames where the head of Sirius Black had been.

'Never mind that,' Dumbledore said crisply. 'Find the four professors.'

Fred, chastised, quietened. 'Where are they, sir?' George asked, his eyes confused, but ready to obey.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled just slightly. 'I would have thought your sources could tell you that.'

'Of course,' Fred said, abashed, and embarrassed.

At that moment, the doors were flung open, as a small figure rushed into the study. 'Professor Dumbledore, sir, Professor Dumbledore!' the high pitched squeaky voice of Dobby the House-Elf was heard.

'What is it, Dobby?' Dumbledore asked, astonished to see the house-elf come running into his study.

'Dobby has been wondering if he should tell you, and was wondering and wondering, because they said not to, but I decided I should. They may need help!' Dobby squeaked.

'Who are they?' Dumbledore asked sharply.

'Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy! They were in the kitchens at midnight, scaring poor Dobby. They wanted food, and they had their broomsticks. They said they were going on a journey away.'

'They were together?' Dumbledore asked, puzzled.

Dobby nodded vigorously. 'I sees them at midnight, I did,' he said, big tennis ball eyes goggling at the Headmaster.

'What is Draco Malfoy doing?' Ginny said out loud.

'Was he taking Harry as prisoner?' George asked Dobby.

'Was Malfoy taken along unwillingly?' Fred asked Dobby.

Dobby shook his head to both questions. 'It did not looks like it,' he squeaked. 'But I sees them – Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.'

A pensive look crept into the Headmaster's eyes, and Ginny could have sworn she heard him murmur to himself in an undertone. 'The Prophecy …but it cannot be …'

The Headmaster nudged himself out of his reverie quickly. 'Hurry. You must go and get the professors,' he said urgently. Fred and George nodded, and dashed over to the doors to take the moving stairs back down, but Ginny paused in her steps.

'What are you doing, Professor Dumbledore?' she asked the old wizard, half-boldly, before she too ran to gather the Professors.

Dobby had seated himself next to the fireplace, still babbling, while Professor Dumbledore paused, before throwing the glittering powder he still held into the flames. 'Summoning the Order of Phoenix, Miss Weasley. Now hurry.'

Author's notes: I'm not sure if all the stuff on rusting is scientifically accurate. But, remember, they're magical, so they can break the laws of science, I think … Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.

Lady Prongs - you're right. Manors are popping up about now. And Harry and Draco have had their rest!