The Enemy Chapter 12
Potter was gone.
It had been two days and Hermione was leaving the hospital wing. She did seem a lot better and she told me that Voldemort had left her. I had been about to say something, when she had sprinted off, quite insanely, leaving me confused and bewildered, but I accepted it. This was Hermione after all, and she was known to suddenly get this excellent idea and depart to her sanctuary—the library.
But she had been headed to the Gryffindor boys' dorms, instead. The odd part? It was 5 in the morning (Hermione was apparently an early bird and claimed she had problems sleeping in the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey let her go; I was by her bed because I was…worried, hard to believe). Before I could even comprehend that she'd run off to the boys dorms she came back, eyes wide and hair possibly more frazzled than usual.
She looked like she was about to faint. She wasn't up to this running around the castle, and I was about to protest when she spoke two very determined words.
"He's gone."
"Who's gone?" I'd asked, confused as hell.
"Harry," she said bluntly, cutting right to the point. Tears were forming in her eyes and I didn't understand—maybe he took early morning strolls for the peace and quiet. I had done that at one point.
She obviously understood that I had no clue what was going on because she screamed the next few words. "Voldemort hasn't been in my head! Harry's gone! Make the connection, Draco!"
And I made it. My blood ran cold and I wasn't even friends with Potter—I didn't give a shit if he died, did I?
I did. He was Hermione's friend and I knew that if Potter died, a part of Hermione would die as well. And not to mention the tiny detail that Potter was fighting Voldemort…and if Voldemort lived…then life would be hell for everyone. And not to mention that tiny detail if he didn't, Hermione would somehow become heir. I didn't quite understand but right now wasn't even the time to grasp the magnitude of the situation.
"I'm going," she said determinedly, and I suddenly noticed heavy bags under her eyes.
"You can't!" I said, conjuring up as much authority as I could at 5:12 in the morning.
"I am. You can't stop me. I'll kill you if you try," she said, dangerous glint in her eye. Slowly, I backed away, worried if Voldemort was back…but no, he couldn't be, if he was busy dueling with Potter…this was of her own accord. What had Voldemort said? Something about…the effects of the potion staying there after he'd left her mind…so he was changing her personality. I gasped.
"I won't try," I said softly. She had to go. She shouldn't, but she had to. Potter needed all the fucking help he could get and she was the perfect one to give it to him…after all, according to Voldemort, who had his own bizarre reasons, she had some sort of power. Some sort of hidden power—perhaps this ability I was sensing…this ability to be evil. I shuddered involuntarily, closing my eyes for a second.
And when I opened them, she was gone.
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I don't know what happened. I closed my eyes, wishing I was with Harry, and then suddenly I felt a jerk below my navel as if I was touching a portkey. But I wasn't. I had simply willed and I had appeared. Cautiously I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in a dark room, a bedroom of some sorts, and on the bare wooden bed lay the biggest snake I had ever seen in my life.
Oddly, I recognized it, even though I had never seen the thing in my life. "Nagini," I whispered, and the snake slithered up to me, wrapping itself around my legs. Instead of screaming or running which I had expected myself to do, I welcomed the feeling and let the snake explore my legs. Its fangs touched my pale skin and I gasped but instead of the pain that I had expected a sense of warmth flowed through me.
What the hell was happening to me?
Shuddering, I moved out of the bedroom and suddenly heard a shout. Whipping my head to the right I was horrified to see Voldemort with a few of his followers shouting curses at Harry.
I had to help Harry. Steeling myself in their direction I pulled my wand out of my robes and ran into the foyer where the duel was happening. Where the hell was this anyway? But now was not the time to ponder, I had to help Harry…
I knew you would come, heiress.
Block the voice, I commanded myself. Block it. Don't listen to him, you can't listen to him, there is no fuc—
Listen to me. Kill Potter. Kill him. Kill him. You will become so powerful that wizards will not look you in the eye…look at me, look at my power, look at these blind fools who follow me in everything I do…
I looked.
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I gasped. Where had she gone? Cursing I looked around wildly as if expecting her to be hiding behind some statue or something? It was so early, I didn't know who to turn to. Glancing at my watch I noticed it was 5:19. Shit. Who knew where she'd gone, anyway?
Think, I commanded myself. Think. What was the most important thing for me to do right now? Add Potter, Hermione, and Voldemort and something explosive was about to happen. Sprinkle on a few death eaters and you have a situation so dangerous that the whole wizard world could be affected by it. There was so much at stake I did not know where to begin. I did not want to ask anyone for help, I had always managed to do everything by myself and now—even though my girlfriend was in mortal danger, and hell, maybe I could be too—was no exception.
I did the only thing I could think of. I went to the library.
At 5:21 in the morning, it is a very eerie place to be, and I didn't have anything on me to sneak into the Restricted Section. I didn't have an Invisibility Cloak and I didn't have any of those passes I sniped off of Snape. Crap. I would just have to be as quiet as possible. I had to find something, had to find something about the counter potion to the Firehorn. I needed to.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the main ingredient in that blasted potion. Think, I commanded myself. Or use logic. Memory. The Potion was all about the mind…what ingredient influenced memory and thoughts…Jabberknoll feathers! Jabberknoll feathers were the key ingredient in a Firehorn potion!
Thus, I had to find an ingredient that contained the exact opposite of a Jabberknoll feather. And that was the eerie, nearly impossible to obtain, dried billywig sting.
Nevertheless, I began my frantic (and as quiet as possible) search. This was really a matter of life and death.
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Voldemort was right. Power was everything and once I had power I could do anything I wanted…could set the house-elves free…could uplift barriers based on prejudices…could rid the world of mud bloods…no, Hermione, I chided myself, get a grip on yourself. No. No. Look at him!
I looked at him and tried to focus on anything bad. Nothing came to mind. He was all-powerful, had his own band of supporters…he was a living corpse! My real mind had come back to me for a second and I used the energy to help Harry. I had to help Harry, who this whole time had been staring at me in the oddest fashion ever, and I understood—how often is the person you supposed to be your best friend really the heiress of your mortal enemy?
"It's all right, Harry," I called out, fearful that the new thoughts that Voldemort had subtly and ingeniously (more praise of the horrid creature?) ingrained with my own so it was nearly indistinguishable to tell them apart, I was so fearful that the thoughts would take over and I would hurt Harry.
"Hermione?" he asked uncertainly.
Forgetting whatever my original plan was, I charged at Voldemort, running. I was going to hit him with my bare hands; was going to kill him for making my life so miserable, was going to…
I never finished my sentence. Harry had dived to pull me back and Voldemort was pulling me in the other direction—or at least, his mind was. "Harry stop," I pleaded, "please. I have to do this. I have to kill him."
"No, Hermione," Harry said, bewildered. "I must kill him. The prophesy, remember?"
I remembered, but the prophesy had missed this one little detail—I was his heiress!
"He's too powerful," I gasped, because Voldemort had suddenly hit me with a very useful spell—the immobilizing spell, and I was rooted to the spot.
Suddenly a wave of inspiration came over me. "Harry," I called out, hoping he would understand my small coded (evil) message, "Bellatrix."
The death eaters looked at each other, a bit confused. Bellatrix wasn't even among them tonight and still I had called her name. Luckily Harry seemed to have grasped the meaning.
"Avada Kedavra," he said, quietly but firmly, pointing his wand at the nearest death eater.
The death eater crumpled.
I was flabbergasted. Harry did apparently have more hate than I had expected—I had not meant Avada Kedavra when I had said Bellatrix (in his fifth year, Harry had tried the Killing Curse on her but had not been successful). I had meant something more complex, hoping he'd think of family ties and stun Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man. I'd hoped that by doing that Voldemort would have had a state of confusion in which Harry could either kill him or escape.
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I nearly ripped out the pages of the books as I combed through anything that contained dried billywig stings. Everything was useless…I did not need truth serums or happiness potions or love potions or sleeping potions…
And then I found something that could possibly be of interest. It was a potion I had never heard of, titled the Arctic potion. Apparently, it had been created by a wizard named Arc the Arctic and he claimed it to…cleanse the memory of anything that was recently infiltrated with the normal thoughts! Meaning, Hermione would lose those evil urges that she kept getting—she'd retain information that she was Heiress of Voldemort and everything but she would not…succumb to his powers.
I had to tell her to use the potion. I scanned the ingredients list carefully and was disappointed but not surprised to see that most of the ingredients were either illegal or very difficult to obtain. Perhaps Snape could help? But I would never go to Snape over this, he probably wouldn't even believe me—the tale was so farfetched. I glanced at my watch in desperation. Hermione would know, if anyone did. 5:49 a.m. But how was I supposed to tell her? I didn't even know where she was!
Tearing the page from the book I slammed it shut, not even bothering to replace it, and ran out of the library at top speed. To hell with it. I had to tell someone, Dumbledore, even…Hermione might even have killed Potter or something by now…
And just as I was racing to Dumbledore's office (why, I do not know. It's not like the man slept in there; it was, after all only six in the morning), an apparition began to form in front of me. Slowly but surely the ghostly apparition filled out and in front of me stood…Potter?
"What the hell?" I cursed, staring at him.
He looked around wildly. "Malfoy!" he gasped. "Malfoy, fuck, she sent me back!"
I didn't know how he really knew of my relationship with Hermione but right now neither of us cared that for the last seven years we didn't talk to each other unless it involved an insult of some sort. "Sent you back?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah. Shit, I dunno how but…one moment I was there…I'd killed this death eater…and the next minute, she was saying, Harry, how could you…and she closed her eyes, and I was about to ask what she was doing…but then…I came here, I don't know how but I'm here. Shit we have to go to Dumbledore!"
Hermione, alone with Voldemort and the death eaters…no, Dumbledore couldn't do anything right now.
Thrusting the page at Potter, I shouted, "No! You can't! Hermione is in grave danger right now. They can change her mindset permanently. You have to go back."
Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "Go back?" he squeaked.
"Where were you?" I demanded.
"My old house," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Apparently the house that my parents lived in…Godric's Hollow."
"Then go back there!" I shouted wildly.
"I don't know how!"
But it was as if the same idea had come to us at once. The two of us pulled out our wands, one saying "Accio Firebolt" and the other saying "Accio Nimbus 2001".
We were in for a hell of a day.
A/N: Okay, so things picked up a bit in the chapter. Thanks so much for the reviews! And I updated quite fast for my usual standards, but I am all gung-ho about finishing up the story! Anyway, please review.