PAWN
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***
Harry Potter had known upon arrival in Siberia that his stay wasn't going to be a particularly pleasant one, nor was he going to enjoy a glamorous life-in-hiding. He had not, however, counted on the constant bone-chilling cold, the icy blasts of Arctic wind that found its way into even the most remote caves, and the snow that got everywhere.
Harry's teeth chattered as he shifted in his sleeping bag. All around the cave floor, various members of the Order of the Phoenix in their respective sleeping bags surrounded him. The only thing that could be heard was the wind whipping past the entrance to the cave deep in the ground of the Russian wasteland. Harry checked his watch, only to see that it had stopped working from the cold. He sighed. Everything in life seemed to be frozen.
Harry could remember Dumbledore's face after Harry had burst into his office after the battle. Voldemort had, once again, escaped in the mass confusion and left the smoldering ruin of Hogwarts behind him. Dumbledore urgently rounded up the survivors and the motley crew had performed a mass Apparation to the backup headquarters of Siberia. From there, Dumbledore performed multiple head-counts; the toll of the battle had hit them hard. But Harry hadn't needed anyone to tell him the news; he could see it with his own eyes.
Those that had been identified as dead had been Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Professors Flitwick and Sprout, Dean Thomas, and Dennis Creevey, among many others. But it was those among the missing that had Harry worried: Charlie Weasley, Hagrid, Lavender Brown, and most of all, Hermione.
Harry sighed miserably, hearing the wind whistle violently and realizing he wasn't going to fall back asleep. Tentatively, he crept out of his sleeping bag, and, fully dressed, padded softly across the cave floor to the fire. To Harry's groggy surprise, Ron was already awake and staring blankly into the flames.
Pushing his glasses up over his green eyes, Harry slowly sat down on the floor next to Ron. Due to the redhead's unblinking stare, Harry got the sneaking suspicion Ron hadn't noticed him. Harry resigned himself to toasting his hands and trying not to think about his guilt for sending Hermione away.
Harry blamed himself for loosing his best friend; in his mind, he sent her to her doom by sending her off into the woods by herself. But Ron seemed to be taking it the hardest. He had barely spoken two words to anyone but Dumbledore since hearing the news. Harry had always suspected Ron had harbored more than friendly feelings for their bushy-haired best friend, but Ron's grief only confirmed his suspicions.
"Where d'you think she is right now?"
Harry snapped his head around. Ron was sitting with his large hands splayed miserably across his face, his red hair falling messily about his eyes, still staring avidly into the fire. Harry sighed.
"I don't know, Ron. I just hope she's okay," Harry said. Ron removed his hands. Harry saw that his eyes were red around the rims. Ron sighed and looked up. Harry frowned. "Ron, have you gotten any sleep at all in the last four days?"
Ron didn't say anything. Harry took his silence as a negative. For a while the two friends sat in silence, Ron thinking about Hermione and Charlie, and Harry trying not to think about anything, except the snores of the sleeping Order members.
It was so comfortable sitting next to the fire…"Harry…Harry, dear, you must wake up."
Harry's eyes snapped open. He had fallen asleep again next to the fire. Mrs. Weasley stood over him, looking tired but still offering a small smile despite the loss of one of her sons.
Harry sat up, even groggier than before. "'Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with a yawn. He noted that Ron was gone. "Where's Ron?"
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "He's gone off again, poor dear. I think Luna finally slipped a Dreamless Sleep potion into his food at breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said. Harry detected a certain sadness in her voice, but it was gone as soon as she started talking again. "And I believe that Dumbledore would like to speak to you Harry, as soon as you've had a spot of breakfast."
Harry immediately perked up at the mention of Dumbledore. Perhaps the man had news for him? Harry stood, saying, "I'm not really hungry, Mrs. Weasley, so I guess I'll go find Dumbledore now."
Mrs. Weasley's hand flew up into the air, causing Harry to jump in surprise. "Harry Potter," she said in her most authorial tone. "If we can finally get Ron to go to sleep, then I most certainly am not going to let you getaway without eating. Dumbledore can wait."
In a dream-like state, Harry found himself nibbling on a piece of toast, wondering just how Mrs. Weasley managed to deal with him as well as a missing son. He was sitting on a chair at a makeshift table made of a plank of wood between two barrels when Ginny Weasley came over, looking tired but, in Harry's mind, quite lovely. Her hair was tied back and she was wearing a wrinkled set of Order robes, and looked like she'd only just awoken.
"Hey Gin," Harry said around his toast, patting a spare barrel next to him. Ginny took the seat with a yawn, grabbing a piece of toast.
"Hullo, Harry," Ginny said, eying the toast with a certain distaste. "I see mum's already gotten to you this morning."
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, and for a while they both went on eating their toast in silence, watching the other Order members bustling about. Harry kept an eye out for Dumbledore or anyone who could possibly have news from the outside world. Lupin passed by, looking as gray and tired as when Harry had first met him. Lupin waved to Harry and Ginny as he passed down the cave tunnel into the Order of the Phoenix's planning room. Harry was just about to bid Ginny goodbye when Luna Lovegood wandered over.
"Hello, Harry," Luna said slowly, as if she had just spotted him. Her protuberant eyes offered a slightly dazed look, as though she couldn't quite grasp or remember what she was doing in a cave. Luna looked at Ginny and nodded. Ginny yawned back.
"Hi, Luna," Harry said carefully, offering the girl a seat. Luna remained standing.
"I went to the opening of the cave this morning," Luna said, twirling her wand between her fingers and seemingly very interested in her work. Harry and Ginny shared a glance that said 'here she goes again!' "And it was still snowing rather hard." Luna paused again, looking up at Harry and Ginny.
Harry slowly shook his head. "That's just fantastic, Luna," he said guardedly. Ginny gave him a quizzical look. "But I've really got to see Dumbledore, so if you'll excuse me…" Harry got up to leave. Luna suddenly spoke very fast.
"I saw an owl."
Harry nodded as he walked away. "We'll talk later, Luna, okay?"
"It had a letter," Luna continued, pulling an envelope out of her robe pocket. "It's from the Malfoys."
***
Hermione sat on her cot in the dungeons, glaring at the bowl of soup that had been placed in front of her by Kipsy the Elf that morning. Kipsy had timidly explained that "Master Draco" was coming down to get her later that morning, and to please be ready for him when he came.
Hermione scowled into the soup in distaste. Her robes were practically non-existent at this point, due to her less-than-friendly treatment as of late. She had cuts and scratches of various shape and sizes, and she didn't even want to imagine what her hair looked like.
And then there was the minor detail of Hermione's stubbornness: even if she had looked halfway decent, she would never be ready for any Malfoy on her own time. So instead she sat fuming, just wondering when her jailors were going to make their appearances.
She didn't have to wait long.
The door of her cell swung open once more to reveal Draco, standing in the doorway looking as smug as ever.
"Hello, pet," Draco said, his gray eyes sweeping her maliciously. Hermione leapt off the cot, seething at the nickname. Draco jumped back in fright at the sight of the angry, wild-looking Hermione. He pulled out his wand from his black cloak.
"Now, now, pet, no need for rash actions. I am, after all, taking you in to my gracious care," Draco said, enjoying the sight of Hermione freezing at the sight of his wand.
Hermione inhaled deeply. "Firstly, Malfoy, let's get something straight: the only reason I'm being 'taken in' is because of that pathetic scum you play lap dog for," Hermione said venomously, crossing her arms over her chest. "And secondly, don't call me pet." She stood at her full height, hoping to gain some kind of authority in her volatile position.
Draco grinned. "Alright then, Hermione."
Hermione pursed her lips. "Granger," she demanded.
Draco grinned even wider, twirling his wand in his hand. "Herm?"
Hermione was livid, not understanding how anyone could be so infuriating. "Granger, Malfoy!" Hermione spat.
Draco feigned a look of understanding. "Not 'Mione then either, I guess? Okay, Graaan-geer," he said, letting every vowel and consonant roll of his tongue and making Hermione cringe. "Follow me."
He turned and walked down the corridor, black cloak swirling in the cold air behind him. Hermione gave her cell one last fleeting glance, almost wishing to rot rather than follow Malfoy to her upper-class imprisonment.
Not that I have much of a choice, Hermione thought miserably. Draco was already at the corner.
"Come on Granger, keep up," he snapped. Hermione quickened her pace, not wishing to be lost in the dungeons. Draco seemed to understand that his "pet" wasn't going to talk to him; they passed through the labyrinth of cells in silence. Absently, Hermione wondered where Snape was being kept. She tried to pay attention to where she was going, but the dizzying number of dungeon cells caught her off guard. Only the hand that grabbed her arm stopped her.
Hermione was yanked back by Draco, who had a very firm grip on her arm. "Don't stray off course, Granger," he said in a firm tone. "I would expect a former Head Girl to know better."
Hermione barely had the energy to muster a strong glare. Together, she and the blonde man climbed several winding staircases before they arrived in the entrance hall of the Malfoy Manor.
Hermione couldn't help but gape. The room had to be at least as tall as the entrance hall at Hogwarts. The floor was made of fine, shiny black marble; there were tall, glistening white columns supporting the ceiling. Long tapestries that probably depicted centuries of Malfoy family history adorned the walls, and a sweeping circular staircase made of more marble lead upwards.
"Impressed, Hermione?" Draco asked, leaning against one of the columns nonchalantly, as if this sort of thing happened daily. Hermione was so awed she couldn't even be bothered to correct his use of her given name. Draco stood straight, grinning somewhat viciously. "I know you're not used to such finery, Granger, you were brought up by those heathen Muggles, after all."
Hermione closed her mouth with a snap. "You are an absolute bastard, Malfoy," Hermione said, almost in disbelief. How anyone could be so arrogant was beyond her. Draco grinned at her frustration. Hermione decided to take a different route. "Besides, I've seen better," she said casually, inspecting her fingernails.
Draco turned slowly and looked down at her, at a loss for words. Finally, he settled for a quiet "Follow me, Granger" before leading her up the marble stairs. Several flights later, a winded Hermione was brought to the fourth flour of Malfoy Manor. Draco led her down a short, barely decorated hallway, which had one door at the end of it.
Hermione stared. "Malfoy?" she asked, watching him draw a chain of keys from his robe pocket.
The blonde didn't look up, but flicked through each of the keys in concentration. "Yes, Granger?"
Hermione looked around. "Where the hell are we?" she asked.
Draco smiled in his concentration. "We are in the Malfoy Manor's guest suite," he said. "Ah!" Draco exclaimed, finally pulling out the right key. "One of them, anyway," he added, unlocking the door. With a flourish, the door opened, and Hermione was ushered into another surprise.
Draco gauged her reaction with a bemused look. Hermione used her Order training in order not to give any emotion away, but she was in awe once again. The room was large, but wasn't as daunting as some of the other rooms Hermione had seen in the Manor. In fact, it looked almost as though…
"I'm guessing Voldemort didn't decorate this," was all Hermione could find to say, eying the pale blue color of the walls and watching Draco cringe at the Dark Lord's name.
Draco could only offer two words in reply: "My mother."
"Ah," Hermione said, testing the bed by poking a finger into it gingerly. It was huge and incredibly soft, Hermione conceded, but the bedspread was probably the gaudiest thing she had ever laid eyes on. It was a green coverlet with the Malfoy family crest in the center: a black fleur-de-lis with a green and silver serpent snaking around it. Hermione had only ever seen Narcissa Malfoy once in person, but she knew that the Society page of The Daily Prophet loved her. Word had it that Mrs. Malfoy was over the top, a Death Eater, a gentlewoman, a fantastic hostess, and the life of the party. The only conclusion Hermione was able to draw was that she had horrible tastes as a decorator.
Draco snapped Hermione out of her thoughts with a "Hey! Granger!" Hermione snapped her head up.
Draco continued. "My mother's maid will be coming up here in twenty minutes to," Draco's eyes traveled over Hermione's frame devilishly, "dress you."
Hermione chose to take the dignified response to this, and she merely glared. "I believe I can dress myself, Malfoy, thank you very much!" she said.
"In what, Granger?" Draco asked, eyeing her Hermione's tattered Order robes. He strode over to her, so she had to look up at him to be eye-to-eye. "You don't belong to that pathetic, rag-tag band of rebels anymore. You work for Voldemort now."
Draco held Hermione's gaze for a second, before turning on his heel and walking to the door. He had just shut the door when he seemed to remember something and came back in, a sort of malicious grin on his face.
"You'll be having tea with my mother in an hour, Granger," Draco said, obviously relishing this nasty detail. "Brace yourself."
Hermione collapsed with a shriek of fury on the bed as soon as he was gone.
***
Twenty minutes later, Hermione was roused from a deep sleep by a soft tapping on the guest suite door.
"Hmmm?" Hermione mumbled, heading to the door and trying to remember whom Draco had said was coming, in between his smirks and malicious talk. Groggily, she threw open the door…
…and was greeted by one of the biggest surprises of her life.
"Her-my-oh-nee!"
Hermione's eyes flew open. "Lavender Brown?!"
Indeed, it was true. None other than Lavender Brown, Hermione's roommate at Hogwarts for seven years and the bane of her life when it came to anything that involved laughter, was standing in the hallway of the Malfoy Manor with a box of makeup under one arm and a magic wardrobe trailing behind her.
Hermione was at a loss for words. "What are you doing here?" Hermione finally asked, not believing her eyes. The last time she had seen Lavender was the morning of the battle, when the blonde girl had been working in the kitchens, serving breakfast. The last place Hermione expected to see the Witch Weekly-obsessive Lavender was in Malfoy Manor.
Lavender smiled, displaying a row of teeth that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart jealous. "I work here, Hermione!" Lavender brushed past her former roommate into the suite. Hermione realized Lavender was dressed in expensive-looking black robes.
"What…HOW?" Hermione asked.
Lavender grinned. "It's simple, Hermione," Lavender said, in her typical 'It's-all-good' tone, despite the fact that she was in the middle of a war. "I got captured. Narcissa—I mean Mrs. Malfoy—offered me the job as her personal stylist. Naturally, I took it…"
While Lavender went off on a long-winded rant about how wonderful the Malfoy matriarch was, Hermione sank down on the bed in a fit of disbelief.
Voldemort must really be loosing his touch, Hermione thought dazedly.
***
A Very Important Announcement
This is an actual review I have received.
Did u write this?? I've read this same exact story before
just with a different titile. I think u plagurized someone else's story because
now i know that i have read this before even down to the Dr's name.
PLAGURISM!I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU
--"Anonymus"
Besides the fact that it's really spelled "A-n-o-n-y-m-o-U-s", I have never and will never plagiarize anything. This is a very serious matter to me, because if this reviewer has an ounce of credibility that means someone else is plagiarizing my work. If you having any information regarding this, please e-mail me.
Now for the fun stuff, (i.e. My Excuses.) Eeeek! I haven't updated in nearly a month! Please don't send angry mobs out after me; I got tied up with Christmas, and then I've just finished finals. Grr. Hoo needs skool neway, guyz?
Reviews: I now have 73. OH MY GOD! You guys rock like whoa!
Me19, alka, tristanlover59, Luisa L (evilly brilliant Voldemort kicks ass), Unicorn13 (It's actually kind of cool to be a September, because I get presents for going back to school. Hah), chocol8skittle (I blushed when I read that.) Ms Lessa (I love having you as a reviewer. You're terrific) drunkonrumcake, hotaru420, Fumanskeeto, Harry's girl (No, they're not together…yet) dangelu881, Megan (You're right. Those fics make me laugh) Karlyn, Evil Cornbread (nice pen name!) Stupid_Girl_of_Cold, Aurora, Arbitrary (And you thought YOU were a slow updater?!) Amy, Zaid, Proud Mary (In almost every one of my stories, someone ends up drunk. It's only a matter of time…) Ottawan Angel, Allie, Elen of the Ways, and padfootsknightingale (thanks!)
And also, my two Anonymous reviewers.
Thank you all kindly for not ferreting out where I live and stoning me to death for making you wait. I love you all.
Be safe and happy.
Mme.
