Disclaimer: Do I really have to go through this with you? Again? Ok, ok,
Harry Potter is not mine. If it were I would not be slaving away at the
hellhole- aka my school. *Deep Breath* Did I go over the top there?
Authors Note: Yes, the wait, I know but I am on holiday and it's sunny and warm outside. SUNNY AND WARM!!! Do you realise how often that happens in Britain (Note to Paffy- you know what I mean)? Huh? NEVER! Ok, so I wasn't going to spend my time in front of a monitor ALL the time. Plus, I'm on at night, which is like three hours. :)
:::NOTE::: There is this song that I NEED to know the name of. It's like this sort of rock song but it has this kind of classical singer (or a none screaming one) as well. It was supposed to have done well in the U.S.A so can you guys help me. I heard it on the radio and remember thinking to myself 'Remember it,' So what do I do? Forget it. I think it begins with 'A' or 'E'. Can you help me?
*Special Note* Thank you SO much to Punkin - she helped me through the last chapter A LOT of the last chapter and beta-read most of this chapter. Thanks Gal!
Chapter 14:
* Potter, *
*I believe this is yours - *
Stuck to the parchment was a picture of Ginny, gagged and looking like she'd seen better days. If Harry hadn't been used to seeing this kind of thing almost on a daily basis, he would have broken down right then.
She looked awful. There was bruising all over her face and a large, and it looked deep, cut ran across from her shoulder to her collar bone.
On the picture, she was holding a piece of cardboard reading,
* Come out to play *
Her fingers were trembling even in the picture and much to his dismay, stained with blood and mud. In the picture, her brown eyes were darting around looking worriedly at something moving just beyond his view.
The picture seemed to be on a loop, her eyes would go back and forth then the person looked like they were going to coming int view when it went back to the beginning.
"Teaser note tut, tut, to get you attention, I guess something's will never change,"
Harry looked up startled only to find the face of his colleague, Mark, looking down at the picture Harry was holding out in front of him. Almost defensively Harry opened his mouth but Mark interrupted him,
"Demands next I suppose,"
This was going to be hard,
"Already got it," he replied, avoiding Marks searching eyes, and pulling another note out of his robe pocket and passing it to him, "Not pretty,"
Mark took the opportunity to give him an meaningful look as Harry passed him the letter making want to stand up and run away right then. But he didn't have another get-up-and-go in him so he remained in the seat feeling like a traitor.
"My son * Draco *," Mark muttered as he read the demands, "And * Harry Potter *,"
Harry looked up at the wrong moment.
His partner sat down in the chair next to him and rubbed his eyes - it was fairly late now - wearily. Harry opened his mouth to say something but couldn't quite put what he wanted to say into words.
So he closed it and joined his friend at staring at the cream 'snake-skin' wall opposite them.
"What has Smith said about it?" he asked as he studied the picture of Ginny Harry had passed him, "He usually loves trespassing on the Malfoy Manor,"
Leaning back in his chair until his head hit the wall, Harry sighed and wished his boss could work on this,
"This has gone straight to the Order,"
Mark looked impressed,
"Cool,"
Harry smiled and waited for the question . . .
"Why?"
Sitting up properly again, he attempted to explain - Mark already knew that he was really Harry Potter (not James Redwood) - but found it harder and harder the more he thought about it,
"Well," he started not knowing what to say, "The thing is-"
"Wait a minute," Mark said frowning, Harry stopped at once, tapping the picture making Ginny in the picture flinch slightly, "She's a Weasley,"
Harry felt his kneecaps turn to water and he arranged her face into what he hoped was an interested-yet-innocent look,
"But the youngest one is dead," Mark continued, not stopped by Harry in any way, "Suicide if I remember rightly- that was my first job - nasty mess,"
Another wave of guilt threatened to spill out of Harry - via his * tear ducts * - it had been a long two years,
"I heard rumours," Mark remarked, this time Harry didn't have to fake a innocent look, "People said she was escaping the Malfoy's - guess they were true,"
Mark looked up at Harry but not with a suspicious glance like before - this time he looked just plain confused,
"But why would the Order want to be involved?"
At least he could half tell Mark the answer,
"It involves a high-profile convict I suppose," He explained, Mark shrugged, "And, erm, me,"
Somehow, contrary to his resolve to sound confident, he said the last bit in a very quiet voice,
"I guess you were right too," Mark grinned, "I knew you were too smart to be a regular grunt around here,"
An answer would have been appropriate then but Harry didn't get the chance, the door they had been willing to open finally opened,
"Harry," Dumbledore spoke softly from the door way, "Come in,"
Both Harry and Mark stood up, with one last nod and a pat on the arm, Harry walked into the room where the Order of the Phoenix was sitting.
Where the people who controlled Ginny's fate were sitting.
~*~
Harry punched the wall wishing that some ones face lay there.
"Ja- I mean Harry?"
Looked like Mark was still here then, Harry took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched his hands in a useless attempt to calm himself down,
"What happened?"
Harry's anger turned to despair in a second and he slumped on the seat next to Mark with all his energy suddenly sapped away.
He yawned and glanced at the clock that hung lop-sidedly on the wall,
It was quarter past three in the morning. Why did ever thing in his life have to happen at this time of the day?
"They might as well as said no," Harry muttered bitterly, rooting the picture of Ginny out of his pockets and looking at it sadly.
Her fingers were still trembling and her eyes darting around, but apart from that she could have been a living prop from a horror film.
Mark sat down as well and sighed,
"You have to wait 48 hours?"
This was the standard waiting time for any kind of rescue or kidnap situation - after Harry's fifth year the ministry was losing too many good Aurors with rescue Opps. So, they had to become tougher with Deatheaters and not negotiate with them.
"Yeah," he forced out, keeping back a whole tide of curses and cussing towards a certain person, "I do,"
"Ouch,"
Ouch didn't quite cover what Harry was feeling.
~*~
Ginny had pulled her self into a corner once her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness that floated around her.
There were no windows in her cell; the only light was from the small rectangle of space in the door where the faint glow of a candle flowed in.
That was enough for her to get a basic knowledge of her prison - it was quite small with hay build up in the corners and even in the weak glow of the candle she could see the walls glistening with what she hoped was water.
There was no way of knowing how long she had been here - it could just be a few minutes, a couple of hours or a weeks.
She didn't know.
Ginny had read some books that told you how to keep a person alive from a distance by able to quench their thirst and feed them.
The thought of Lucius doing that to her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Ginny pulled what was left of her jumper around her, taking her arms out of the sleeves and wrapping her arms around her chest, to try and control her shivers. Sniffing sadly, she attempted to make a bed out of the hay she was laying on. It looked like Malfoy was expecting visitors - it was relatively fresh.
The light in the room was beginning to grow, casting longer shadows all over the place, and soon she heard the rhythmic sound of some ones shoes on the hard cobbles.
Wishing she could just shrink and disappear, she forced her cold and ridged arms through the sleeves of her sweatshirt before standing up shakily.
If she was going to have to face Lucius Malfoy she was going to do it standing up - she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of looking down at her.
Although she had been expecting the door to open soon, she couldn't help but jump when it banged open and slammed against the slimy wall.
Three Death Eaters glided in, Ginny had to stop herself from stepping back by gripping the back of the wooden chair that stood in the middle of the otherwise barren room, followed of course by Lucius.
"You," one of them said gruffly and pointing a finger at her, "In the chair,"
Ginny's only action was to give him a death glare while removing her hand from the chair back.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucius shaking his head slightly,
"Ginny," he said charmingly, which made her skin crawl, walking up to her and placing his hand on her arm, "We can do this the easy or the hard way,"
As much as she hated to admit it, she had to do had to do what they wanted - she was basically out numbered. She wouldn't stand a chance with her wand and that was possibly hundreds of mile away back in her room. Having lived in the muggle world for so long, she didn't carry it with her a lot - something she had kicked her self.
Shrugging his hand of her shoulder, she sat in the chair and gave anything that moved dead eyes. Unfortunately, she hadn't been in the company of Deatheaters for a long time and had forgotten Lucius' very temperamental attitude.
She remembered too late. She remembered after he hit her again around the face.
"Remember where you are girlie," he hissed as he squeezed her shoulder tightly, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop a scream of pain exciting, "This is not what you would call a holiday,"
For once Ginny agreed with him.
He let go and swept off to what the other Deatheaters, what they were doing she didn't know - nor did she want to. She was now starting to doubt whether or not she would see sunlight again.
The group of Deatheaters turned around, one of them held a camera, the other apiece of old cardboard and Lucius and the remaining Deatheater were smirking evilly.
This did not make her feel and better. These mundane, everyday items made the well of fear in her mind double in size.
The one with the cardboard forced it into her hands and just as she read it she felt her lungs stop working. She looked up in time to see Malfoy walking back and forth, grinning at her, and see the photographer in front of her. For the second time that day she figured something out too late.
A flash and puff of purple smoke merely confirmed her guess. She was indeed bait for the second time in her life.
And both times it was to get the Boy-Who-Lived - if she hadn't been in mortal danger, she would have felt depressed.
* Come out to play *
How original, she thought bitterly noting how she now had a paper cut to add to her list of injuries, No expense spared.
~*~
Harry had been told to go home and get some rest but he got as far as the front doors before turning back around. The cold, crisp air out side had done nothing except wake him up even more so he was now walking around aimlessly down the cream hallways.
Hands in pockets, he let his feet carry him while his brain was millions of miles away in memory land. He could have stayed like that for hours but as it was he had too many friends.
Suddenly, completely out of the blue, an arm shot out of a door and grabbed his shirt and dragged him in with it. Harry was too stunned to do anything at first but started fighting the limb until a familiar voice calling his name,
"Harry!"
He stopped mid-punch when he heard Ron's voice.
Feeling like a fool he looked around the store cupboard he now found himself in.
Half hidden by the various cleaning agents and darkness he could see Ron, Mark (who was nursing his arm like a sullen child), Dumbledore, Maria (grinning at Marks face) and to his surprise Katie Bell.
Now he was really confused,
"Katie?"
She smiled warmly but still remained silent before she went rooting around in a bag she had slung over her shoulder. By the look of her clothes it seemed that she had become a receptionist here - she had probably recognised him when he was wandering around.
"Uh, why are we here?" he asked looking around at the collection of people that were grouped together in this tiny space. Almost everyone turned towards Dumbledore,
"Follow me,"
~*~
Draco glared at the happy witch who had entered his cell. She obviously was new around here or at least none of the other guards had let her deal with him. But he reconsidered; he was always looking for fresh meat and in a prison people who you could manipulate didn't come along very often.
Half of the people here were crazy anyway - with or without the Dementors.
"Helllooo Mr Malfoy," she greeted cheerily bustling in with a tray which no doubt held his ratty meal. He was supposed to have it an hour ago but his little encounter with Potter postponed it. So, it was most likely cold and ratty now. Yummy.
She was skinny real and the uniform they wore seemed to hang on her, her brown hair was back in a tight bun like all the other female officers with long hair were forced to do and the metal trolley she pushed in jangled and jingled as she pushed it towards him.
His only reply was to blink.
Clearly unfazed by his inability to utter a nice word towards her, she picked up a tray and set it down about half a metre from his feet.
He smirked - so she had heard the stories,
"Thank you,"
The woman did a double take as Draco bent down to pull the tray closer to him. He pulled the lid off the plate of food and wasn't surprised to find there was no steam billowing out.
She was still standing there, much to his annoyance, just twiddling her fingers before wringing her hands uncomfortably. Draco, being perfectly at ease in the silence, had only his food in mind.
He hadn't eaten since yesterday breakfast- Ministry cut backs was the only reason he could think of.
He was about to take a bite out of the sandwich, stale bread and most likely had something soggy in the middle, when she finally got the better of his nerves,
"You can go now," he ordered waving his hand leisurely and placing the bread back on the plate - she scuttled out head down dragging the trolley behind her.
Draco should have eaten then but instead he chose to shake his head at the youth of today and watch her make her round through the bars that make up his door.
Picking up his meal again he couldn't help but grin, life was looking up - he had discovered that Potter was back on the scene and had a problem, there was a new victim in the prison and he was about to eat. He rooted the piece of chalk from under his mattress and scratched a mark on the wall - one less day of his seventy-five year sentence.
He opened his mouth to take a bite out of his meal when a commotion down the hallway caught his attention. By the looks of things he wasn't the only one who had heard it - all his fellow convicts were coming to the their door and peering through the bars.
Not really caring for the moment, he removed the insides of his sandwich because he learnt that if he couldn't recognise it then it was better off not eating it. So, all he was left with was quite literally bread and water. Well, bread and margarine and water.
Incoherent yelling followed the clattering of pot and pans - just as well he had his meal now - but interest the got the better of him. Briefly, part of his brain, the hungry part, told him curiosity killed the cat.
Draco set his food back down onto the floor, stood up and had walked about half way across his cell when two guards came bursting into his cell.
"Draco Malfoy?" one of them asked looking at him,
Draco was too shocked to plot any way to get out so he nodded dumbly, though he regretted it when they treated him like a danger right now. You blow a couple of things up, break a few of the fundamental laws for the wizarding way of life and suddenly you're dangerous? It looked like it.
Pinned, face down, on the rough material of his bed he saw one of them tread on the rim of the plate and causing it, and the food on it, to topple on to the floor.
That alone wouldn't be too bad if it was for the fact the bread landed butter side down - Draco knew what had been on floor and the last time it was cleaned was when he first came into this cell.
Taking his shout of disappointment as a sign of hostility, the Auror who was holding him down bound his wrists together and pulled him up onto his feet,
"One Malfoy ready to go,"
Draco didn't appreciate being talked about as if he was an object and he prepared to shoot a glare at this officer but recognised him,
"I know you," he said frowning unable to put his finger on who it was, a giggle from the door caught his attention and to his irritation he recognised her as well, "And you,"
The man smirked,
"We're your last 'victims' Malfoy," he stated, the woman walked up to them and brought out a biro pen. Despite his obvious position he grinned at the sight of this,
"And we are doing what with that Muggle trash?"
They both glanced at each other before one of she rolled her eyes,
"This," she explained tapping him on the head with it, "Is a p-o-r-t-k-e- y,"
He didn't bother answer - they both knew he feeling on muggle objects,
"Thought you'd like it,"
~*~
Harry rubbed his eyes. It was already nearly twenty hours since he'd slept and Draco Malfoy who was sitting on the chair grinning ar him wasn't helping at all.
"Malfoy-" he started when he finished yawning,
"Please Harry," Draco interrupted, thoroughly enjoying this whole situation, "Call me Draco," he leaned back in the chair and placed his heels on the table - out of the corner of his eye he saw Maria flinch as his dirty feet were seated on her papers.
This had been going on for about an hour and a half and already Harry was pissed off. His shirt hung loose and stubble was beginning to show and he wasn't the only one - everyone apart from Hermione and Dumbledore looked like shit.
"Look Draco," he snapped, not even enjoying the look of surprise from Draco that he'd actually done what he was asked, "I know you think this is the perfect situation for you,"
Draco shrugged. It was really for him. Now, Dumbledore having found several loopholes, they were acting independently therefore they couldn't use any form of truth potion on Draco or force information out of him. Ron had suggested sitting on him until he spilled everything.
They were going to have to make a deal,
"Help us," Harry muttered quietly leaned forward, "And I'll take fifty years off you sentence,"
The man opposite him half smiled before he worked something out,
"What will I want with freedom when I'm one hundred and three?" he asked scathingly making Mark muttering in his sleep about something and somehow manoeuvred onto Maria's shoulder. Harry had to figure his comment out.
The jury and judge had practically prosecuted him for his father's crimes by using the maximum imprisonment for all twenty-nine of his charges. It finished at something over one hundred and fifty years.
Harry thought about it,
"Minimum security,"
Draco pretend to think,
"There's no way they'd let me out of their sight," he said smirking, "I've heard they even won't let you use knifes to eat because all the psychos used to go there,"
That was true actually but he wasn't about to tell him.
"Fine," Harry snapped, "Nyper's Peak for you then,"
Mark jolted out his sleep and out of the shadows Harry saw Ron grin,
"N-N-N Nyper's Peak?" Draco stuttered most uncharacteristically, "But that's a-"
"Exactly," Harry finished nastily folding his arms and lapping up Draco expression. Amazing, he thought, how someone can go form being so cocky and confident about themselves, then at the mention of a place that practically shrink up in front of you.
"You wouldn't," he said not even believing himself,
Harry leaned forward menacingly,
"Oh," he answered, "Trust me - I would,"
Draco studied him for a moment,
"Ok," he finally managed, his voice now no longer shaking and placing both hands on the table carefully, "What if I * could * help you - what do I get in return,"
"You'll have three day's," Harry replied with more conviction than he felt, "Then we're chasing you,"
He kept his eyes on Draco because he knew that everyone else around was shaking there head in disbelieve or staring at him like he was a mad man.
Draco, however much time he had spent inside, understood completely and smirked,
"Deal," he said happily, offering his hand out. Harry, surprised by this mutual act of friendliness, paused for a moment before shaking his hand back,
"Right," he instructed, standing up not without noticing almost everyone straightened up as well, "What do we do?"
This was directed at Draco more than anyone else,
"We plan Potter," Draco replied, returning to their old names for each other, "Trust me - loads of planning,"
For the first time in about ten minutes, someone else except from Harry or Draco spoke up,
"What do you need?"
Harry squinted out into the shadows around them realising that they were under a bare, lantern hanging from the ceiling that really did nothing except light the table that he and Draco were sat at,
"Just parchment and a quill," Draco replied rubbing his eyes, "And-" he looked up hopefully, "Do you have any food?"
~*~
"Right," Draco announced to the small crowd of people around him through a mouth full of carrot, "This," he pointed proudly to the hand drawn rough map with a piece of the vegetable, "Is our way in,"
"A wiggly line?" Ron questioned tilted his head to the side to get a better look at 'map'.
Draco scowled,
"Malfoy's are known for their evil ways," he retorted crossly, "Not their art skills,"
"Obviously," Ron muttered under his breath making Draco frown even more and would have replied if it weren't for Dumbledore's intervention,
"We're all tired," he spoke softly but still everyone heard him, "I suggest we hear Mr. Malfoy's plan out," He looked at Ron and Mark for a moment, "And catch some rest,"
Hermione was already taking his advice.
She seemed even more tried than the rest of them so Ron had ordered her to go and at least lie down so now she was sleeping on the sofa that Dumbledore had Transfigured for her under Ron's cloak.
"What is it then?" Maria asked as nicely as she could but not quite covering up the blatant sarcasm in her voice.
Draco bristled,
"It's a map,"
Even Dumbledore gave Draco an exasperated look - they had been going in various circles like this for ten minutes,
"Really?"
One last glare before they returned to the map,
"As I was saying," he snapped, "It's a route around the place-"
"Place?" Maria spoke up for the first time in a while, "This is the Manor isn't it?"
Draco arched his eyebrows,
"No. . ." he said slowly, "If my father was anything like he was, he'd take her to here,"
He pointed to the piece of parchment again before biting a bite of the carrot again,
"Where is this 'here'?" Mark questioned, turned the paper around so he could study it properly, "Do you have any idea?"
Draco chewed the carrot thoughtfully,
"Yes," he finally answered, "It's on the Yorkshire moors - nasty place. All mist and rain, it's deserted really,"
Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair - that would make a lot of sense.
"What should we do then?"
Dumbledore hadn't said anything up until then but he had somehow voiced what everyone seemed to be thing,
Draco sighed.
"We go at dawn or very early morning," he stated, placing the carrot back down on the plate, "They won't be expecting us then,"
~*~
Harry pulled the cloak around him tighter.
Something had woken him up.
For once, he wasn't having any nightmares instead a relaxing, but slightly odd, dream. He desperately tried to find it, or at least remember it, but it was slipping further and further away. The more he ran after it, the faster it sped went.
Grumbling crossly, he pulled his cloak up onto his shoulder and turned around and rested his temple on the wings of the large chair he was * trying * to sleep in.
Someone yanked his cloak off again just as he was slipping away back to sleep,
"Buggar off," he mumbled cracking an eyelid and scanning the floor around him groggily for a sign of his warm excuse for a blanket. He had forgotten too late that he had several hard and heavy things in that cloak.
"Is someone a little cranky when they wake up,"
One single thought floated into his mind and it didn't inspire much happiness - Maria.
"Get lost," he barked pulling his legs up onto the chair and trying to ignore the person sent to wake him up,
Suddenly the chair he was dosing on changed back into the piece of tissue he had changed it from,
"Ow," he murmured lamely, rubbing his hip where he had landed. Through half closed eyes, he squinted up and the grinning figures of his work colleagues,
"Get up," Maria said softly, pointing at the still asleep Hermione though now she had her head on Ron's lap, "The love birds are still in the land of nod,"
That didn't quite compute yet with Harry when he had less than three hours sleep,
"Here," Mark bent down next to him when Harry was sitting on the floor leaning back on his palms and blinking furiously, "Drink this,"
Despite the fact that they were up before the sun, Harry was still suspicious of the goblet that Mark had just given him,
"What is it?"
"Pepper-up potion," he answered somewhat proudly, "It'll make you as awake as me!"
Not even bothering to pass a snide comment on the state that they were all in he, he took the goblet with out a word.
Blinking back the tears that had sprouted when he had knocked the drink back, he stood up and brushed himself down. Then he remembered why he was here.
He glanced at Draco. Even though he was technically free, they had still bound him up and he was on the sofa where he had somehow got the only settee that could fit a person with ease,
"Do you think we can trust him?"
Mark must have seen where he was looking and joined him, Draco was still asleep and noises of Ron and Hermione arising came from the corner,
"We have no choice,"
~*~
Authors Note: Yes, the wait, I know but I am on holiday and it's sunny and warm outside. SUNNY AND WARM!!! Do you realise how often that happens in Britain (Note to Paffy- you know what I mean)? Huh? NEVER! Ok, so I wasn't going to spend my time in front of a monitor ALL the time. Plus, I'm on at night, which is like three hours. :)
:::NOTE::: There is this song that I NEED to know the name of. It's like this sort of rock song but it has this kind of classical singer (or a none screaming one) as well. It was supposed to have done well in the U.S.A so can you guys help me. I heard it on the radio and remember thinking to myself 'Remember it,' So what do I do? Forget it. I think it begins with 'A' or 'E'. Can you help me?
*Special Note* Thank you SO much to Punkin - she helped me through the last chapter A LOT of the last chapter and beta-read most of this chapter. Thanks Gal!
Chapter 14:
* Potter, *
*I believe this is yours - *
Stuck to the parchment was a picture of Ginny, gagged and looking like she'd seen better days. If Harry hadn't been used to seeing this kind of thing almost on a daily basis, he would have broken down right then.
She looked awful. There was bruising all over her face and a large, and it looked deep, cut ran across from her shoulder to her collar bone.
On the picture, she was holding a piece of cardboard reading,
* Come out to play *
Her fingers were trembling even in the picture and much to his dismay, stained with blood and mud. In the picture, her brown eyes were darting around looking worriedly at something moving just beyond his view.
The picture seemed to be on a loop, her eyes would go back and forth then the person looked like they were going to coming int view when it went back to the beginning.
"Teaser note tut, tut, to get you attention, I guess something's will never change,"
Harry looked up startled only to find the face of his colleague, Mark, looking down at the picture Harry was holding out in front of him. Almost defensively Harry opened his mouth but Mark interrupted him,
"Demands next I suppose,"
This was going to be hard,
"Already got it," he replied, avoiding Marks searching eyes, and pulling another note out of his robe pocket and passing it to him, "Not pretty,"
Mark took the opportunity to give him an meaningful look as Harry passed him the letter making want to stand up and run away right then. But he didn't have another get-up-and-go in him so he remained in the seat feeling like a traitor.
"My son * Draco *," Mark muttered as he read the demands, "And * Harry Potter *,"
Harry looked up at the wrong moment.
His partner sat down in the chair next to him and rubbed his eyes - it was fairly late now - wearily. Harry opened his mouth to say something but couldn't quite put what he wanted to say into words.
So he closed it and joined his friend at staring at the cream 'snake-skin' wall opposite them.
"What has Smith said about it?" he asked as he studied the picture of Ginny Harry had passed him, "He usually loves trespassing on the Malfoy Manor,"
Leaning back in his chair until his head hit the wall, Harry sighed and wished his boss could work on this,
"This has gone straight to the Order,"
Mark looked impressed,
"Cool,"
Harry smiled and waited for the question . . .
"Why?"
Sitting up properly again, he attempted to explain - Mark already knew that he was really Harry Potter (not James Redwood) - but found it harder and harder the more he thought about it,
"Well," he started not knowing what to say, "The thing is-"
"Wait a minute," Mark said frowning, Harry stopped at once, tapping the picture making Ginny in the picture flinch slightly, "She's a Weasley,"
Harry felt his kneecaps turn to water and he arranged her face into what he hoped was an interested-yet-innocent look,
"But the youngest one is dead," Mark continued, not stopped by Harry in any way, "Suicide if I remember rightly- that was my first job - nasty mess,"
Another wave of guilt threatened to spill out of Harry - via his * tear ducts * - it had been a long two years,
"I heard rumours," Mark remarked, this time Harry didn't have to fake a innocent look, "People said she was escaping the Malfoy's - guess they were true,"
Mark looked up at Harry but not with a suspicious glance like before - this time he looked just plain confused,
"But why would the Order want to be involved?"
At least he could half tell Mark the answer,
"It involves a high-profile convict I suppose," He explained, Mark shrugged, "And, erm, me,"
Somehow, contrary to his resolve to sound confident, he said the last bit in a very quiet voice,
"I guess you were right too," Mark grinned, "I knew you were too smart to be a regular grunt around here,"
An answer would have been appropriate then but Harry didn't get the chance, the door they had been willing to open finally opened,
"Harry," Dumbledore spoke softly from the door way, "Come in,"
Both Harry and Mark stood up, with one last nod and a pat on the arm, Harry walked into the room where the Order of the Phoenix was sitting.
Where the people who controlled Ginny's fate were sitting.
~*~
Harry punched the wall wishing that some ones face lay there.
"Ja- I mean Harry?"
Looked like Mark was still here then, Harry took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched his hands in a useless attempt to calm himself down,
"What happened?"
Harry's anger turned to despair in a second and he slumped on the seat next to Mark with all his energy suddenly sapped away.
He yawned and glanced at the clock that hung lop-sidedly on the wall,
It was quarter past three in the morning. Why did ever thing in his life have to happen at this time of the day?
"They might as well as said no," Harry muttered bitterly, rooting the picture of Ginny out of his pockets and looking at it sadly.
Her fingers were still trembling and her eyes darting around, but apart from that she could have been a living prop from a horror film.
Mark sat down as well and sighed,
"You have to wait 48 hours?"
This was the standard waiting time for any kind of rescue or kidnap situation - after Harry's fifth year the ministry was losing too many good Aurors with rescue Opps. So, they had to become tougher with Deatheaters and not negotiate with them.
"Yeah," he forced out, keeping back a whole tide of curses and cussing towards a certain person, "I do,"
"Ouch,"
Ouch didn't quite cover what Harry was feeling.
~*~
Ginny had pulled her self into a corner once her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness that floated around her.
There were no windows in her cell; the only light was from the small rectangle of space in the door where the faint glow of a candle flowed in.
That was enough for her to get a basic knowledge of her prison - it was quite small with hay build up in the corners and even in the weak glow of the candle she could see the walls glistening with what she hoped was water.
There was no way of knowing how long she had been here - it could just be a few minutes, a couple of hours or a weeks.
She didn't know.
Ginny had read some books that told you how to keep a person alive from a distance by able to quench their thirst and feed them.
The thought of Lucius doing that to her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Ginny pulled what was left of her jumper around her, taking her arms out of the sleeves and wrapping her arms around her chest, to try and control her shivers. Sniffing sadly, she attempted to make a bed out of the hay she was laying on. It looked like Malfoy was expecting visitors - it was relatively fresh.
The light in the room was beginning to grow, casting longer shadows all over the place, and soon she heard the rhythmic sound of some ones shoes on the hard cobbles.
Wishing she could just shrink and disappear, she forced her cold and ridged arms through the sleeves of her sweatshirt before standing up shakily.
If she was going to have to face Lucius Malfoy she was going to do it standing up - she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of looking down at her.
Although she had been expecting the door to open soon, she couldn't help but jump when it banged open and slammed against the slimy wall.
Three Death Eaters glided in, Ginny had to stop herself from stepping back by gripping the back of the wooden chair that stood in the middle of the otherwise barren room, followed of course by Lucius.
"You," one of them said gruffly and pointing a finger at her, "In the chair,"
Ginny's only action was to give him a death glare while removing her hand from the chair back.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucius shaking his head slightly,
"Ginny," he said charmingly, which made her skin crawl, walking up to her and placing his hand on her arm, "We can do this the easy or the hard way,"
As much as she hated to admit it, she had to do had to do what they wanted - she was basically out numbered. She wouldn't stand a chance with her wand and that was possibly hundreds of mile away back in her room. Having lived in the muggle world for so long, she didn't carry it with her a lot - something she had kicked her self.
Shrugging his hand of her shoulder, she sat in the chair and gave anything that moved dead eyes. Unfortunately, she hadn't been in the company of Deatheaters for a long time and had forgotten Lucius' very temperamental attitude.
She remembered too late. She remembered after he hit her again around the face.
"Remember where you are girlie," he hissed as he squeezed her shoulder tightly, she had to bite her bottom lip to stop a scream of pain exciting, "This is not what you would call a holiday,"
For once Ginny agreed with him.
He let go and swept off to what the other Deatheaters, what they were doing she didn't know - nor did she want to. She was now starting to doubt whether or not she would see sunlight again.
The group of Deatheaters turned around, one of them held a camera, the other apiece of old cardboard and Lucius and the remaining Deatheater were smirking evilly.
This did not make her feel and better. These mundane, everyday items made the well of fear in her mind double in size.
The one with the cardboard forced it into her hands and just as she read it she felt her lungs stop working. She looked up in time to see Malfoy walking back and forth, grinning at her, and see the photographer in front of her. For the second time that day she figured something out too late.
A flash and puff of purple smoke merely confirmed her guess. She was indeed bait for the second time in her life.
And both times it was to get the Boy-Who-Lived - if she hadn't been in mortal danger, she would have felt depressed.
* Come out to play *
How original, she thought bitterly noting how she now had a paper cut to add to her list of injuries, No expense spared.
~*~
Harry had been told to go home and get some rest but he got as far as the front doors before turning back around. The cold, crisp air out side had done nothing except wake him up even more so he was now walking around aimlessly down the cream hallways.
Hands in pockets, he let his feet carry him while his brain was millions of miles away in memory land. He could have stayed like that for hours but as it was he had too many friends.
Suddenly, completely out of the blue, an arm shot out of a door and grabbed his shirt and dragged him in with it. Harry was too stunned to do anything at first but started fighting the limb until a familiar voice calling his name,
"Harry!"
He stopped mid-punch when he heard Ron's voice.
Feeling like a fool he looked around the store cupboard he now found himself in.
Half hidden by the various cleaning agents and darkness he could see Ron, Mark (who was nursing his arm like a sullen child), Dumbledore, Maria (grinning at Marks face) and to his surprise Katie Bell.
Now he was really confused,
"Katie?"
She smiled warmly but still remained silent before she went rooting around in a bag she had slung over her shoulder. By the look of her clothes it seemed that she had become a receptionist here - she had probably recognised him when he was wandering around.
"Uh, why are we here?" he asked looking around at the collection of people that were grouped together in this tiny space. Almost everyone turned towards Dumbledore,
"Follow me,"
~*~
Draco glared at the happy witch who had entered his cell. She obviously was new around here or at least none of the other guards had let her deal with him. But he reconsidered; he was always looking for fresh meat and in a prison people who you could manipulate didn't come along very often.
Half of the people here were crazy anyway - with or without the Dementors.
"Helllooo Mr Malfoy," she greeted cheerily bustling in with a tray which no doubt held his ratty meal. He was supposed to have it an hour ago but his little encounter with Potter postponed it. So, it was most likely cold and ratty now. Yummy.
She was skinny real and the uniform they wore seemed to hang on her, her brown hair was back in a tight bun like all the other female officers with long hair were forced to do and the metal trolley she pushed in jangled and jingled as she pushed it towards him.
His only reply was to blink.
Clearly unfazed by his inability to utter a nice word towards her, she picked up a tray and set it down about half a metre from his feet.
He smirked - so she had heard the stories,
"Thank you,"
The woman did a double take as Draco bent down to pull the tray closer to him. He pulled the lid off the plate of food and wasn't surprised to find there was no steam billowing out.
She was still standing there, much to his annoyance, just twiddling her fingers before wringing her hands uncomfortably. Draco, being perfectly at ease in the silence, had only his food in mind.
He hadn't eaten since yesterday breakfast- Ministry cut backs was the only reason he could think of.
He was about to take a bite out of the sandwich, stale bread and most likely had something soggy in the middle, when she finally got the better of his nerves,
"You can go now," he ordered waving his hand leisurely and placing the bread back on the plate - she scuttled out head down dragging the trolley behind her.
Draco should have eaten then but instead he chose to shake his head at the youth of today and watch her make her round through the bars that make up his door.
Picking up his meal again he couldn't help but grin, life was looking up - he had discovered that Potter was back on the scene and had a problem, there was a new victim in the prison and he was about to eat. He rooted the piece of chalk from under his mattress and scratched a mark on the wall - one less day of his seventy-five year sentence.
He opened his mouth to take a bite out of his meal when a commotion down the hallway caught his attention. By the looks of things he wasn't the only one who had heard it - all his fellow convicts were coming to the their door and peering through the bars.
Not really caring for the moment, he removed the insides of his sandwich because he learnt that if he couldn't recognise it then it was better off not eating it. So, all he was left with was quite literally bread and water. Well, bread and margarine and water.
Incoherent yelling followed the clattering of pot and pans - just as well he had his meal now - but interest the got the better of him. Briefly, part of his brain, the hungry part, told him curiosity killed the cat.
Draco set his food back down onto the floor, stood up and had walked about half way across his cell when two guards came bursting into his cell.
"Draco Malfoy?" one of them asked looking at him,
Draco was too shocked to plot any way to get out so he nodded dumbly, though he regretted it when they treated him like a danger right now. You blow a couple of things up, break a few of the fundamental laws for the wizarding way of life and suddenly you're dangerous? It looked like it.
Pinned, face down, on the rough material of his bed he saw one of them tread on the rim of the plate and causing it, and the food on it, to topple on to the floor.
That alone wouldn't be too bad if it was for the fact the bread landed butter side down - Draco knew what had been on floor and the last time it was cleaned was when he first came into this cell.
Taking his shout of disappointment as a sign of hostility, the Auror who was holding him down bound his wrists together and pulled him up onto his feet,
"One Malfoy ready to go,"
Draco didn't appreciate being talked about as if he was an object and he prepared to shoot a glare at this officer but recognised him,
"I know you," he said frowning unable to put his finger on who it was, a giggle from the door caught his attention and to his irritation he recognised her as well, "And you,"
The man smirked,
"We're your last 'victims' Malfoy," he stated, the woman walked up to them and brought out a biro pen. Despite his obvious position he grinned at the sight of this,
"And we are doing what with that Muggle trash?"
They both glanced at each other before one of she rolled her eyes,
"This," she explained tapping him on the head with it, "Is a p-o-r-t-k-e- y,"
He didn't bother answer - they both knew he feeling on muggle objects,
"Thought you'd like it,"
~*~
Harry rubbed his eyes. It was already nearly twenty hours since he'd slept and Draco Malfoy who was sitting on the chair grinning ar him wasn't helping at all.
"Malfoy-" he started when he finished yawning,
"Please Harry," Draco interrupted, thoroughly enjoying this whole situation, "Call me Draco," he leaned back in the chair and placed his heels on the table - out of the corner of his eye he saw Maria flinch as his dirty feet were seated on her papers.
This had been going on for about an hour and a half and already Harry was pissed off. His shirt hung loose and stubble was beginning to show and he wasn't the only one - everyone apart from Hermione and Dumbledore looked like shit.
"Look Draco," he snapped, not even enjoying the look of surprise from Draco that he'd actually done what he was asked, "I know you think this is the perfect situation for you,"
Draco shrugged. It was really for him. Now, Dumbledore having found several loopholes, they were acting independently therefore they couldn't use any form of truth potion on Draco or force information out of him. Ron had suggested sitting on him until he spilled everything.
They were going to have to make a deal,
"Help us," Harry muttered quietly leaned forward, "And I'll take fifty years off you sentence,"
The man opposite him half smiled before he worked something out,
"What will I want with freedom when I'm one hundred and three?" he asked scathingly making Mark muttering in his sleep about something and somehow manoeuvred onto Maria's shoulder. Harry had to figure his comment out.
The jury and judge had practically prosecuted him for his father's crimes by using the maximum imprisonment for all twenty-nine of his charges. It finished at something over one hundred and fifty years.
Harry thought about it,
"Minimum security,"
Draco pretend to think,
"There's no way they'd let me out of their sight," he said smirking, "I've heard they even won't let you use knifes to eat because all the psychos used to go there,"
That was true actually but he wasn't about to tell him.
"Fine," Harry snapped, "Nyper's Peak for you then,"
Mark jolted out his sleep and out of the shadows Harry saw Ron grin,
"N-N-N Nyper's Peak?" Draco stuttered most uncharacteristically, "But that's a-"
"Exactly," Harry finished nastily folding his arms and lapping up Draco expression. Amazing, he thought, how someone can go form being so cocky and confident about themselves, then at the mention of a place that practically shrink up in front of you.
"You wouldn't," he said not even believing himself,
Harry leaned forward menacingly,
"Oh," he answered, "Trust me - I would,"
Draco studied him for a moment,
"Ok," he finally managed, his voice now no longer shaking and placing both hands on the table carefully, "What if I * could * help you - what do I get in return,"
"You'll have three day's," Harry replied with more conviction than he felt, "Then we're chasing you,"
He kept his eyes on Draco because he knew that everyone else around was shaking there head in disbelieve or staring at him like he was a mad man.
Draco, however much time he had spent inside, understood completely and smirked,
"Deal," he said happily, offering his hand out. Harry, surprised by this mutual act of friendliness, paused for a moment before shaking his hand back,
"Right," he instructed, standing up not without noticing almost everyone straightened up as well, "What do we do?"
This was directed at Draco more than anyone else,
"We plan Potter," Draco replied, returning to their old names for each other, "Trust me - loads of planning,"
For the first time in about ten minutes, someone else except from Harry or Draco spoke up,
"What do you need?"
Harry squinted out into the shadows around them realising that they were under a bare, lantern hanging from the ceiling that really did nothing except light the table that he and Draco were sat at,
"Just parchment and a quill," Draco replied rubbing his eyes, "And-" he looked up hopefully, "Do you have any food?"
~*~
"Right," Draco announced to the small crowd of people around him through a mouth full of carrot, "This," he pointed proudly to the hand drawn rough map with a piece of the vegetable, "Is our way in,"
"A wiggly line?" Ron questioned tilted his head to the side to get a better look at 'map'.
Draco scowled,
"Malfoy's are known for their evil ways," he retorted crossly, "Not their art skills,"
"Obviously," Ron muttered under his breath making Draco frown even more and would have replied if it weren't for Dumbledore's intervention,
"We're all tired," he spoke softly but still everyone heard him, "I suggest we hear Mr. Malfoy's plan out," He looked at Ron and Mark for a moment, "And catch some rest,"
Hermione was already taking his advice.
She seemed even more tried than the rest of them so Ron had ordered her to go and at least lie down so now she was sleeping on the sofa that Dumbledore had Transfigured for her under Ron's cloak.
"What is it then?" Maria asked as nicely as she could but not quite covering up the blatant sarcasm in her voice.
Draco bristled,
"It's a map,"
Even Dumbledore gave Draco an exasperated look - they had been going in various circles like this for ten minutes,
"Really?"
One last glare before they returned to the map,
"As I was saying," he snapped, "It's a route around the place-"
"Place?" Maria spoke up for the first time in a while, "This is the Manor isn't it?"
Draco arched his eyebrows,
"No. . ." he said slowly, "If my father was anything like he was, he'd take her to here,"
He pointed to the piece of parchment again before biting a bite of the carrot again,
"Where is this 'here'?" Mark questioned, turned the paper around so he could study it properly, "Do you have any idea?"
Draco chewed the carrot thoughtfully,
"Yes," he finally answered, "It's on the Yorkshire moors - nasty place. All mist and rain, it's deserted really,"
Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair - that would make a lot of sense.
"What should we do then?"
Dumbledore hadn't said anything up until then but he had somehow voiced what everyone seemed to be thing,
Draco sighed.
"We go at dawn or very early morning," he stated, placing the carrot back down on the plate, "They won't be expecting us then,"
~*~
Harry pulled the cloak around him tighter.
Something had woken him up.
For once, he wasn't having any nightmares instead a relaxing, but slightly odd, dream. He desperately tried to find it, or at least remember it, but it was slipping further and further away. The more he ran after it, the faster it sped went.
Grumbling crossly, he pulled his cloak up onto his shoulder and turned around and rested his temple on the wings of the large chair he was * trying * to sleep in.
Someone yanked his cloak off again just as he was slipping away back to sleep,
"Buggar off," he mumbled cracking an eyelid and scanning the floor around him groggily for a sign of his warm excuse for a blanket. He had forgotten too late that he had several hard and heavy things in that cloak.
"Is someone a little cranky when they wake up,"
One single thought floated into his mind and it didn't inspire much happiness - Maria.
"Get lost," he barked pulling his legs up onto the chair and trying to ignore the person sent to wake him up,
Suddenly the chair he was dosing on changed back into the piece of tissue he had changed it from,
"Ow," he murmured lamely, rubbing his hip where he had landed. Through half closed eyes, he squinted up and the grinning figures of his work colleagues,
"Get up," Maria said softly, pointing at the still asleep Hermione though now she had her head on Ron's lap, "The love birds are still in the land of nod,"
That didn't quite compute yet with Harry when he had less than three hours sleep,
"Here," Mark bent down next to him when Harry was sitting on the floor leaning back on his palms and blinking furiously, "Drink this,"
Despite the fact that they were up before the sun, Harry was still suspicious of the goblet that Mark had just given him,
"What is it?"
"Pepper-up potion," he answered somewhat proudly, "It'll make you as awake as me!"
Not even bothering to pass a snide comment on the state that they were all in he, he took the goblet with out a word.
Blinking back the tears that had sprouted when he had knocked the drink back, he stood up and brushed himself down. Then he remembered why he was here.
He glanced at Draco. Even though he was technically free, they had still bound him up and he was on the sofa where he had somehow got the only settee that could fit a person with ease,
"Do you think we can trust him?"
Mark must have seen where he was looking and joined him, Draco was still asleep and noises of Ron and Hermione arising came from the corner,
"We have no choice,"
~*~