Chapter Nineteen:
Sulking with the Enemy
The days passed quickly for Harry. He was enjoying Sirius' company and the two of them fished together every morning off the long dock, went out in the little boat after lunch, and spent the evenings sitting together on the porch of a small cabin, drinking Finnegan's Swill and catching up. It was the evenings that Harry liked best and he'd even been given over to laughter a few times, unable to help himself, the most acute of his misery slipping away.
They spent a week on the island. Harry checked the locator frequently, but it always said the same thing. Sara was "traveling", Hermione and Ron were usually either "home", "drinking" or "snogging", and he was "on holiday" . He kept the port-key in his pocket, just in case.
He'd been tempted to use it many, many times, but restrained himself. He would not drive himself mad going back there every few hours, just to see if she'd answered his note. It could be months before she went back, or not at all. He could not allow it to become an obsession or it could cost him his sanity.
Dumbledore was on the roof when they landed, stretched out on a chaise lounge, looking through last month's copy of Witch Weekly, left behind by Sara and Hermione. He was on the cover, to his dismay, wearing his Quidditch gear for the last time and holding the Quidditch Cup. He made up his mind to have a few words with Colin Creevey about selling his image, but did he really mind? He decided it wasn't important. Everyone wanted to make money doing what they most loved to do.
Dumbledore smiled over the magazine, but did not put it down.
"Do you find that trash interesting, Professor?"
"Did you know Harry, that according to this, you are heavily weighing the decision to play Quidditch for England? That's news to me."
"It's news to me, too. I never even considered it. I told you it was trash."
"Then it goes into a long story about Draco Malfoy and most of the pictures are of him." Dumbledore smiled, quickly thumbing past a picture of Harry and Sara alongside Ron and Hermione in London, the same picture that hung on the wall inside the tower.
Harry laughed, "I'm so glad I'm not blond and rich."
To this Dumbledore laughed as well. "Yes, what a curse that would be." He closed the magazine and set it aside. "I trust you and your friend had a satisfactory time?"
"It was great!" Harry grinned, "It was what I think camping must be like. I'd never been fishing before and I caught the most bizarre creatures. We threw them all back, of course. Sirius wanted to eat his, but I talked him out of it."
"What else would jump on a wizard's hook, but magic fish?"
Harry smiled. He was filthy, having helped restock the wood supply and clear out the fireplace, and wanted badly to get in the shower and change clothes. "I'd better get cleaned up." He said.
"Just a moment." Dumbledore lowered his voice, "I asked that you return today because an invitation came for you. It's from Draco Malfoy." He withdrew a folded note from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "He would like to meet you tonight in London. If you choose to go I was able to procure one of the Ministry's flats for your use."
Harry read the note.
Potter,
I want to talk to you. Meet me at The Phantom Friday night, and don't dress like an idiot.
DM
Knowing that Malfoy could very well have important information about Sara, he made his decision at once. "How do I get to London, sir?"
"You can get a port-key in Hogsmead. I don't suppose you'd use the floo network and risk offending Mr. Malfoy with sooty attire."
"Never." Harry smiled. "Hogsmead it is then. Will I see you before I leave?"
"I will wait for you. I was enjoying this article immensely. Did you know Draco had the highest grades at Hogwarts?"
"No."
Dumbledore smiled, "Neither did I."
The second he was dressed and his hair was combed, Harry opened the little gold box. He had been waiting for this moment for seven full days and could wait no longer. If he came up empty, he promised himself he would wait another week before trying again.
Instantly he stood just inside the front door, immediately surveying his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that the blood trail had been lifted from the carpet. He hurried to the table and there was the little half-sheet of paper, her writing faced up, not his. He held it, staring at the single word, relief flooding all his senses. He set it back down in favor of a small cardboard box that had not been there last week.
Inside he found an elaborate corkscrew which was silver with gold accent and covered in jewels. It was really an exquisite thing and Harry smiled, taking it down to the wine cellar, where he found a few new bottles, all French. They were set out in plain sight, like the corkscrew had been, and her voice echoed through his mind. 'Harry, look what I got!!' He smiled, wondering if he'd ever see her again.
They had amassed a collection of two other corkscrews and those were kept in a drawer next to the racks. Harry added the new one and hurried back up the stairs.
He took a soda out of the fridge and stared at the mirror with it's entwined hearts as he drank it. She hadn't cleaned it and he inwardly thanked her. He needed to look at it just as he'd needed an answer to his question.
He sat down and composed a new note, one he knew she would read, but probably wouldn't answer. It didn't matter. As much as he wanted to hear from her, he would feel better knowing she understood how he felt. He kept it short, deciding she would be less likely to read a long letter.
Sara,
I know about Lucius and I don't care! I'm glad you killed him, but I worry about how it must have affected you. You don't have to go through this alone. Please come home. I miss you.
Love, Harry
He left again quickly, an idea growing in his head, something he'd been looking forward to since they'd purchased the property last August. He would not wait a week to go back, he thought as he crossed to the roof, he might return as early as tomorrow morning.
"I think you went a little farther than the shower." Dumbledore questioned as Harry fell onto the freshly made bed, "Hiding port-keys, are you?"
"We didn't intend to use them here." Harry explained, knowing port-keys were against the rules. "They're for our house."
"So that's where you went. Trying to torture yourself, Harry?"
"She goes there, too, sir."
"And what is that you have in your hand? Is this what has changed your mood so drastically?"
Dumbledore took it and read Harry's words silently.
Do you have regrets?
Sara's reply was on the back..
Never.
* * *
Harry hadn't been to The Phantom since Christmas and as he entered, his pockets full of Sara's money, he decided it hadn't changed a bit. Being Friday night, the place was jam packed and Harry fought his way through to the back bar. He ordered a drink and looked around, finding he actually missed the three gorillas from his first visit. The place just wasn't the same without them.
He took a seat, wondering where he should begin his search for Malfoy, scanning the crowd for a blond head, of which he found many. A very attractive girl leaned on the bar beside him and smiled flirtatiously. She had fine features, with long golden hair and blue eyes. Harry gave her a polite nod and turned away.
He stood and dropped a tip onto the bar. To hell with Malfoy. He thought, There are too many memories here.
"You aren't leaving are you, Potter?" Came from over his shoulder.
Harry turned to find Malfoy smirking at him, impeccably dressed, as always. "Did you have to pick this place?" Harry asked, more upset than angry.
"Old ghosts, is it?" Malfoy tried to smile, but failed. "Come on, Potter. We'll go across the street. This is the best place to pick-up muggle girls, but I have a feeling we won't be doing much of that, am I right?"
Harry gave him a serious look of warning, then followed him out.
The Velvet Underground was darker, smaller, and more appealing to Harry. The over-crowded dance floor swarmed with energy and the music was super-charged. It was an old stone building, decorated with wrought iron and velvet, of course, not to mention black was everywhere.
"I like this place better in all honesty." Draco confessed, "But then I rarely venture out in search of good decor."
"Let's just get a drink."
They found a table in a dim corner, it was occupied, but Draco threw a wad of bills on the table and told them to get lost. Harry thought Malfoy was trying to get them beat up and was surprised when the group left happily, one of the guys clapping Draco on the shoulder and thanking him. Draco gave him his 'don't touch me' glare. The girls smiled.
It was away from the floor and the music was subdued so they wouldn't have to shout. Harry took a seat while Malfoy went to the bar and got them drinks. He returned with reddish concoctions that tasted better than they looked. Harry was glad of this, for he found he was getting sick of Finnegan's Swill, not that he would ever admit it out loud.
"So Malfoy, what's this little meeting about?"
"Nothing really."
"You said you needed to talk to me."
"No, Potter. Where'd you learn how to read? I said I wanted to talk to you. There's a difference."
"Do you mean you didn't want anything at all?"
The expression on Draco's face turned serious. "I was bored. I didn't want to see anyone else right now. Snape stayed a few days, but he thinks he's all wise and full of good advice. He doesn't understand."
Harry was sort-of touched, but bewildered. Malfoy despised him, it was a well known fact. "Why me?"
"Because, Potter. You're the only one I know who's as miserable as I am."
Harry smiled. "You know, Malfoy, I think you might be right. And after a few more of these," he held up his half-empty glass, "I may even find you tolerable."
"Hmm." Draco smiled back, "We'll see."
Harry cleared his throat, not knowing how to approach the subject except head-on. "I read the letters. And I know you kissed Sara the night of the Yule Ball."
"She was drunk, Potter. She doesn't give a shit about me."
"How I wish that were true." Harry sipped his drink, "The Elemental is drawn to dark things, and you're a dark thing. She adores you, and I think it sucks."
"You're wrong." Malfoy almost sneered, "Let's talk about something else."
"Fine. What's on your mind, then? You know what's on mine." Harry looked around the room, liking the darkness and the colored lights flashing. It felt good to be anonymous among people again, but he wasn't all that comfortable with Malfoy. In his opinion, Draco was acting strangely.
"I've seen Granger and the Weasel out a few times. Last time I told them to get a room. I swear, the two of them are disgusting."
Harry checked the locator just out of curiosity, and found Hermione and Ron's hands on "snogging". They soon moved to "Drinking". "I think they're at The Phantom."
"Good thing we left. I don't know how much of them I could take right now."
Harry felt a spark of anger. "Did you get me down here just to insult my friends?"
Malfoy sighed. "No. But it's your turn to get drinks. I went last time."
Harry went thankfully. He didn't want Malfoy to get on his nerves. As odd as the situation was, he wanted to stay for all the same reasons. It was nice to talk to someone who knew the situation, had been deeply affected by it, but was just as bitter as he was and offered no sympathy. He paid for the drinks and left a tip, feeling he should make it a little extra, considering he was wearing a small fortune in clothes and was in the company of Mr. Mega-Millions himself.
The drinks he set down and slid one in front of Malfoy, who said nothing, just pulled out the straw, flung it on the floor, and gulped down nearly half before returning it to the table. "The day I buried my father I cursed her, Potter. I cursed the day I met her."
"She had no choice. You know that."
"She could have told Dumbledore. She could have told you, even. But what did she do? She told me. The one person who could do nothing about it."
"You could have told someone just the same. She was scared, Malfoy. What's your excuse?"
"Don't get angry, Potter. I need to talk about it, stupid as that sounds. You asked me what it was about Sara that appeals to Slytherins. I honestly don't know, but I believed her when she said she knew what she was doing. She has a way of lying that fooled me completely and I'm sure it's the same for Snape. She's so charming and she has this air of innocence that has a tendency to disarm, as if she cast a spell with her presence. She knew what she was doing the whole time. It was all a play to put the weight on someone else's shoulders and let them be indirectly responsible when she goes out and kills my father."
"I won't let you blame her."
Draco went on as if Harry hadn't spoken. "I gave her a gift for Christmas, something you didn't know about. She left it next to my father's corpse, presumably for me to find. It's obvious what it means."
"Assume nothing, Malfoy, she's not here to defend herself and I don't know her reasons any better than you do. In fact, I came here hoping you had more to say about why Sara chose to walk out on me, but really this is just one big pity party and I won't humor you, Draco. I'd rather die."
"I had a visitor the other night, came into my bedroom as I slept. Do you know who it was?"
"No idea."
He lowered his voice and Harry leaned in to hear. "It was Voldemort himself."
Harry looked horrified and swallowed a lump in his throat. "So he's back, then. What did he want?"
"He wanted to know my intensions in the wake of my father's death. He asked if I would receive the Dark Mark."
"What did you say?"
"What else would I say? I told him to call at normal hours and to get the hell out of my room so I could get some sleep."
"And he didn't kill you?"
"No, but the next thing I knew I was flying through the air and was on my knees before him, that disgusting Wormtail wringing his hands by his master's side. I can honestly say I was scared half to death, but I only let him see my annoyance."
"What happened?"
"I said I had not decided, that it was too soon. He gave me two months to join him and he offered me my father's place if I brought him the Elemental."
"What?! Malfoy! You wouldn't?!"
"I'll never hand her over to him. Even if it meant my life, but I can't say what I would do if she walked into the room at this moment. Part of me wants to find her and make her pay for her betrayal. Part of me wants to forgive her. I just don't know."
"And the Mark? Will you submit to such a thing?"
"Really Potter! Of course not!"
"And you think he'll take it well?"
"Probably not."
"Dumbledore can help you. Come back with me."
"To Hogwarts? Are you mad? I finally got out of that place just two weeks ago and you think I'll go back? You must have taken a bludger to the head at some point."
"Do what you want, it's no concern of mine. Just know that he'll help you if you want to live to see eighteen."
"I already am 18! For two months now. I'm older than you. How depressing."
"Not for long it sounds."
"We'll see."
"Malfoy? Why are you telling me this? Do you want my help or a shoulder to cry on?"
"I knew this was a stupid idea." He said and stood.
"Wait." Harry grabbed his arm. He did not give Harry the 'don't touch me' glare. "It's your turn for drinks. Don't come back empty-handed."
Malfoy hesitated, then smiled and went to the bar.
* * *
"Where are you staying? I'll drop you off. We can't have The Boy Who Lived staggering down the streets of London, now can we?" Draco slid into his chauffeured limo, indicating Harry join him.
Harry got in, admiring the soft leather seats and expensive looking interior, complete with a wet bar. "Wiltshire and Tulip. Dumbledore got me a Ministry flat for the night."
"And you're going to sleep there?"
"I had planned on it, yes."
"My father got me one of those dumpy flats once. The bed wasn't even changed from the last person, in fact there was still a head mark on the pillow. There was a fly buzzing around the place and it smelled moldy. I went to the Wescott and got a room."
Harry's face crumpled. If that's the sort of place they would offer the son of Lucius Malfoy, then what would his look like? "Maybe I'll do the same."
"I'll tell you what. I've got a house up in the hills and I've got more guest rooms than friends."
Spend the night at Malfoy's house. The offer was almost too tempting, regardless of the earlier part of their discussion, before they got really drunk and forgot they hated each other. So far they'd had a great time, once the topics turned from Sara and Voldemort to Draco giving full commentary on the couple making out in the corner. Harry hadn't laughed so hard in months and in his altered state thought hanging out at Malfoy's was a wonderful idea. "Do you have a pool?"
"Yes, but I'm not swimming with you. Besides," Draco laughed, "I think we'd sink. I do have a daiquiri machine and a really loud stereo."
"Do you have The Beatles?" Harry wondered as the car turned right and headed up an incline.
"You're so lame, Potter. Who gets cross-eyed and listens to The Beatles? Is that a bit of Gryffindor fun?"
"Why, what did you have in mind?"
"Marilyn Manson. There's a bunch of it in that Muggle-Music pack you gave me for Christmas."
"Really? The one you gave me is full of Gospel and this really horrible country and western."
"Oh, sorry. I thought you would like that pansy stuff. Butterflies and Sunday School and some down-home whiny crap about wholesome back-woods livin'."
"You're really a creep, Malfoy. Did you know?" Harry grinned as they passed through a black iron gate. "But I'm glad you liked mine. I thought devil music would appeal to you."
"Shove off, Potter. At least I put some thought behind it."
"I suppose you did."
The car came to a stop outside a grand front door of dark wood, carved in a medieval fashion and when Harry stepped out he was surprised by a small gothic mansion. It loomed above, imposing and beautiful. He was awed, but wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of impressing him.
"Nice house. The rent cheap?"
"I don't know what the rent is, jackass. I just picked it out."
"I wouldn't want all that money. A lot of money is nice, but just enough so that you don't lose sight of things. You must like it though." Harry smirked.
Draco's face turned serious and he walked through the front hall with nonchalance, his hands clasped behind his back. "I used to. Now it feels like I'm trying to compensate for something that can never be replaced." He didn't wait for Harry to answer, "Take your shoes off."
Draco led him to a room with large Turkish rugs, renaissance furnishings, and a Medieval theme. Gold suits of armor stood on each side of the mantle and in every corner of the room. There must have been a hundred candles burning, wine was already on ice next to two glasses and a chess board sat on a low table surrounded by large cushions. Malfoy went to the stereo and Harry looked around, grinning, imagining this was where Draco probably brought women. "Are you planning to seduce me, Malfoy?" Harry laughed.
"Hardly, Potter. You're not my type." Draco smiled. "This just happens to be where the stereo is. Sit down and I'll get some drinks."
"No way. I want to see you make them."
"Fine. To the kitchen then." Draco turned the music up to ear-splitting decibels and led Harry to a large room in the back corner of the house where the daiquiri machine sat alone on a counter, seemingly custom made for this appliance. There were many different mixers on a rack and Draco looked through these, pondering each before he looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Pina colada or grasshopper?" before Harry could answer, Draco made up his mind. "I don't feel like mint."
Harry closed his mouth and sat on a stool at the end of a large marble island, watching as Malfoy measured out ingredients like he'd done it a million times and dumped them into a blender while the top half of the contraption chewed up the ice. After a minute, he released the slush into the blender and turned it on. Within moments, they had their oversized drinks and set to wandering the rooms with them.
"So Malfoy, what are you planning to do about Voldemort?"
"There's nothing to be done." Draco said heavily, "So Potter, will you come to my funeral?"
"How can you make jokes like that? It isn't funny! Not at all!"
"No, it isn't. Unfortunately, it's realistic."
"I don't understand." Harry said, sipping his drink, "Why won't you let Dumbledore help you?"
"That old fool?"
"You don't have to like him, Draco. Stay at Hogwarts, I'm sure Snape would take you on as an apprentice. You'll be safe for awhile."
"I prefer to live dangerously."
"Yeah, or not at all." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Draco, do you want my help? Is that it? All you have to do is ask."
"Don't hold your breath. One Harry Potter rescue is my quota for life."
"Whatever, Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Perhaps you should ask Crabb and Goyle then? If there's one thing I've learned it's that good friends are invaluable in such situations. If you ask me, you don't seem to have too many of those."
"I've got friends!" Draco defended.
"So where are they when the Dark Lord is at your door?"
"Standing behind him."
"I see." Harry said and rubbed his eyes. They'd both had too much to drink and he was starting to feel the welcomed drowsiness, the festive mood slipping away. Voldemort and death threats usually had that effect on him. "I'll ask you one more time to come back with me."
"Stay here, Potter. No one would be the wiser. No one even knows where I live."
"You've gone mad."
"I can't go back to school and hide from him. There's no honor in it."
Unease had settled under Harry's skin, though he didn't know why and attempted to shrug off the urge to turn and run out of Draco's house. Harry cast his eyes at the floor, noticing his drink had melted and he'd barely touched it. He had surrendered completely to excess, feeling relief in the detachment that it brought, and Draco had been the perfect companion. He saw his suffering reflected in Draco, and that made returning a smile acceptable, joining in laughter became alright again. "I can't stay here, Malfoy. I have my obligations. It's Hogwarts or you take your chances."
Draco seemed to consider this, his hand on his chin, holding his pina colada, all but forgotten. Harry checked the locator out of habit while Malfoy paced the floor, heavily weighing his decision. Ron and Hermione were "sleeping", Sara was still "traveling", and he was...in "mortal peril".
It took a moment to register and he suddenly wished he hadn't drank so much. Quick thinking was crucial and his mind was telling him to get out.
"It's getting late." He said, casually putting his free hand in his pocket and moved very close to Malfoy, mere inches from him. His fingers flicked open the lid of the little gold box in his pocket. His voice barely a whisper, he looked Draco in the eye. "Grab my arm. Now."
There was an intensity in Harry's eyes that led Draco to act without question. Harry still held his drink and so did he, but his free hand wrapped around Harry's wrist.
Harry touched the key.
* * *
Harry pulled his arm from Malfoy's grasp, nearly overbalancing in his haste to draw his wand. He almost spilled his drink, but managed to point in the vicinity of Draco's loathsome blond head. "You set me up!"
"What are you talking about, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, "And where the hell are we?" He looked around, forgetting there was a very angry wizard pointing a wand at his head, "Is this your house?" He turned and wandered into the dining room, sipping his melted daiquiri and taking everything in. "It's nice." He said, as if making a final decision. "I like it. Too bad it's so small."
Harry still stood by the front door, his wand held at arm's length, bewildered. He got the feeling Malfoy had no idea they'd been in mortal peril. He checked the locator again, only to find he was "home". Draco had not been the threat and seemed honest in his perplexity.
Harry caught up to Draco, glancing once at the letter he'd left on the table, which remained unanswered and unread. Malfoy was looking at the mirror, which still held two entwined hearts, one in lipstick, the other in black marker. He had a very odd look on his face, not a pleasant one, but something like gloomy consternation. Harry stood next to him, his heart still racing from their near-encounter and sorrow now invaded him as well as he looked at the mirror.
"We weren't alone at your house."
"Of course not. I do have servants, you know. They just stay out of sight like they're told."
Harry showed him the locator. Draco looked at it without much interest, shrugged and sipped his drink.
"It was on "mortal peril" when I brought us here."
"Potter, no one could just walk into my house. I've got a muggle alarm, all the usual wards and then some. I think you need another drink."
Harry ignored the sarcasm. "You said Voldemort came into your room in the night. Tell me, how did he get in?"
Draco's face went pale, realizing that Harry was actually quite serious. "I don't know."
"Perhaps you should consider moving." He hesitated, "You could always go home."
"I can't sleep there." He admitted, "It's creepy now. The place where my parents were murdered."
"You're not safe where you are. We need to tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."
"We're not in school anymore, Potter! When are you going to stop running to the Headmaster? We're full-fledged wizards now, we handle our own problems."
"That sort of rationale is going to get you killed, Draco. Could you be any more like Sara? Insisting on handling overwhelming problems on your own, unnecessarily. You saw how wrong everything turned out in that case. Tell me, did you ever insist she go to Dumbledore about Lucius?"
"I did. So what! It's got nothing to do with what's going on now."
"And she wouldn't listen, even though you could clearly see she was in need of help, endangering herself by being stubborn, and unwilling to see reason."
"Yes, exactly. I wanted to shake some sense into her a few times. It was infuriating!"
"Then you know how I feel right now, Malfoy. You're arrogant, impossible, and downright irritating. If you don't listen to me you'll be sorry and by then there will be no room to reconsider."
"Oh shut-up, Potter. I never should have told you."
"How about a compromise?" Harry offered, "Come back to school for a few days. Give me some time to think about it. Talk to Snape. He escaped Voldemort, perhaps he has some sort of knowledge he could give you. You don't have to tell Dumbledore, but you should at least hear his advice. He won't help you unless you want him to."
Draco swayed on his feet for the first time, having stringently kept a sober composure all evening and Harry wondered how he managed it. They'd had the same amount of drinks and Harry knew Malfoy was just as affected as he was, but Harry was definitely a little off-balance. Draco was thinking and wandered into the guest room, abandoning his drink and collapsing on the bed. Harry climbed onto the foot and sat down cross-legged, awaiting his response.
"Alright." He said, "I'll stay a night or two, but it's so that I can decide what I want to do. Promise you won't go running to Dumbledore."
"I'll do no such thing. I've seen the destruction that lies behind such promises. I'll tell him if I think you're throwing caution to the wind, but I'm not his informant, Malfoy. I'll let you try to work it out first if you insist."
"Can I have this bed?"
"No." Harry sighed, "We can't stay here." He realized he was still holding the warm pina colada and took another sip. "No one has ever slept in this house and I won't let you be the first."
Draco's head came off the pillow. "And where the hell do you think we're going? We don't even have any shoes! We left them at my house!"
"I have a port-key that will take us to Hogsmead. We can walk to the castle from there."
"I despise you, Potter. Did I ever tell you that? It's three-thirty in the morning!!!"
"It's not that far and it's a warm night. If we leave now we can be asleep in an hour."
"My feet will get dirty!"
"Probably."
"Perhaps in the morning I'll repay you with a broken nose. You have one coming if you recall."
"I recall. Now get up. Let's go."
* * *
Hogsmead was nearly silent as they passed through, still carrying their pina coladas and occationally sipping them. Draco complained about hurting his bare feet on the cobblestone lane, his socks crammed in his pockets, his eyes drunk and sleepy. Harry felt much the same and longed to touch the port-key and just go to bed, but the thought of Draco Malfoy sleeping in their house kept his feet moving.
They hardly spoke and the walk took about twenty minutes, but finally the front door was in sight.
"Come on." Harry said, pulling it open and ushering Malfoy inside, "I'm going to collapse in about five minutes."
"No kidding." Draco sighed, "I think I died about a ten minutes ago. Would you tell me if I was transparent and ethereal?"
The stairs from the great hall to the third floor were laborious and tiring, but once inside the base of the tower, Sara's rooms were just a quick broom ride away. Harry went straight to the roof, where the bed still resided, quickly charmed the dirt from his feet, and fell into it. Malfoy, to his surprise, had followed suit and collapsed onto Sara's side.
Harry yawned, snuggling into the pillow. "There are other beds, you know."
Malfoy yawned in return, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "This one's closest. If you touch me I'll kill you."
Harry didn't reply because he was already asleep. Draco didn't notice anyway, drifting off even as he spoke.
* * *
Sara paced the floor in her rented palazzo. Moonlight splashed the rich marble tile, the Mediterranean crashing against the breaker just below the veranda. Every once in a while a bit of salty sea water sprayed up over the rail. It dried quickly in the warm Italian moonlight.
Awakened by a vivid dream of Harry, Sara was anxious and unable to get back to sleep. It was more like a vision, and she saw him standing with Draco, a sinister shadow of advancing threat moved silently behind them, unnoticed. She'd snapped awake, terrified and unable to shake off the dread that seemed to grab her by the throat, making it hard to breathe.
The locator was on the stand by the bed. She'd gotten it quickly and was flooded with relief when it read "home". It was just a dream after all, but what was Harry doing at the cottage at this hour? At first she thought he was spending the night, but it would have said he was sleeping. Also, the arm kept moving back and forth between "home" and "drinking". Then again, it said he was drinking quite often lately, which depressed her immensely. Harry was not a big drinker. Even when they'd had their Friday night parties on the roof, he only ever had a few, especially after the attack on her birthday. It was her abandonment which was pushing him past his limits, and Sara for one knew how inviting the idea of drowning your sorrow could be. She'd done it when her parents died, practically every night for months, and continued to deal with her problems in the same way, all the way up to the day she had left. Since then she had vowed to drink a glass of wine with dinner at most, and to never hide from her emotions again, for Harry's sake as well as her own.
She wasn't sure what had brought her to Florence. She had thought she would go to Romania where she knew she could find help for what ailed her. The Gypsy community there harbored the secrets of the Elemental and had throughout time, so it was the only logical destination, but Sara simply wasn't ready to face the darkness in her soul. There were things she had to deal with first, like the death of her mother and father, the overwhelming force inside her that could be so hard to control, and the way she drew the interests of the Dark Lord, Voldemort.
Evil appealed to her, not to become evil herself, but to observe it, to lose herself in people like Lucius Malfoy, who attracted her physically, mentally, and on many levels. She had to find her inner strength, and embrace it in a manner which she could maintain, unwaveringly, for life. Danger followed her everywhere and her often timid reaction to any sort of threat almost invited it and Sara refused to jeopardize her loved ones through weakness. They could fend for themselves, this she knew, but the part of her that kept secrets imperiled them at every turn. With this on her mind, she brought the Orb of Arassel to the table in her room and sat down in front of it.
"Show me Harry."
As usual, it didn't. She saw a brief glimmer of the tower, a bed sat right in the middle, but it was fuzzy, clouded, and distant. For some reason, her talent did not extend to Harry. She felt things from him, but not like it was with other people. Images did not flash through her mind when she touched Harry. Her divining sense barely noticed him. It was more of an awareness that she had. She knew when he needed her, when he was upset, and when he was angry. She felt a bond with Harry that defied comprehension.
Sara went back to bed, the Orb gone dark.
* * *
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his hands clasped casually behind his back, dressed comfortably for a few hours in the library with Dumbledore.
"What does it look like?" Draco shot back, "Potter, I think it's time for a new pair of glasses." He lowered his wand and set the bed down on the roof a few feet from Sara's, the sheets neatly re-tucking themselves after traveling sideways through the doors.
Harry only gave him a blank stare, thinking Malfoy was a little presumptuous. When he'd invited him to stay at Hogwarts, he hadn't necessarily meant on the roof with him. Or even in the tower for that matter.
"I want to sleep out here. I liked it."
"I like it, too." Harry agreed, "To be in bed, but staring up at the sky and high above the world, it's nice."
"How whimsical. Do you write poetry, too?" Draco was being sarcastic, as usual.
"Yes. In fact, I just wrote a poem for you, Malfoy. It goes like this;
You own an estate and you're pretty like a girl,
with the mind of a snake and the heart of a squirrel."
Harry grinned his victory and went out, soon to be late for his first private lesson. They wouldn't be doing much more than talking, Harry figured, though he brought a notebook, just in case.
The Headmaster was waiting in the library when he arrived a few minutes early. He was standing between the stacks and the tables, leaning on his staff, and smiling at Harry. "I see Mr. Malfoy followed you home. A rather odd thing for him to do, but at least misery has found company."
"The wrong company." Harry sighed, "He's cut himself off from the other Slytherins. He said he was bored."
"And did he have any new revelations for us?"
"No, nothing. Except that he wouldn't hand Sara over to Voldemort, but if she walked into the room he's not sure whether or not he would kill her. That's about it."
"That's about enough as well." Dumbledore sighed. "Severus did say Draco was angry. I can't say as I blame him, but it's troublesome indeed. What else did he say?"
Harry hesitated, a few thoughts coming to mind. "Nothing."
Dumbledore smiled with a hint of curiosity.
"It must have been an interesting evening. As I recall you and Draco aren't on the best of terms."
"Actually, it was fun for the most part. You'd never know it, but he can be very funny and he's different now, even more so than this past school year. I'm not sure if it's good or not, but personally I thought he was next to normal, which for someone like Malfoy, is a little weird."
"I'm sure he'll be back to his old self in no time." Dumbledore turned and indicated Harry walk with him. "Now Harry, I think it's time you learned how to apparate."
"But I thought apparating was impossible at Hogwarts?"
"It is, but there are times when it's entirely necessary, so we have a secret chamber, of course."
They approached the shelves that lined the back walls and Dumbledore drew his wand, touching it to the spine of a large black book, covered in dust. At his instruction, Harry did the same. With the password a swirl of light spiraled the length of Harry's wand and the bookcase came forward, then moved aside, revealing a set of ancient stone steps and plenty of cobwebs. Clearly, no one had been in here for quite some time. Dumbledore spoke, as if in answer. "The last time this door was opened was the day your parents died, Harry. Now it opens once again for you. Come, there's a skill to be mastered."
It was a large chamber, not huge, but about the size of the Gryffindor common room, dusty and without windows. In one corner of the room sat a wooden table with one chair, along another wall was a long stone ledge upon which one could sleep. To Harry's dismay, a skeleton lay crumbling on one end of it. There were two covered urns on the table and Harry moved to inspect them. One read "Nutrium Potion", the other "Poison".
Dumbledore was looking over the remains when Harry turned to him. "Wizards get stuck in here?"
"Yes. Wizards like this rather unfortunate fellow. One turns up every once in a while and eventually chooses the poison. I used to come down occasionally, but it's slipped my mind these past few years. I wonder how long our friend here lasted?"
"Sir!" Harry said, shocked.
"Don't worry, Harry. Any wizard who tries to get into Hogwarts through this chamber is not on our side. There are very few who know about it. Minerva, Hagrid, and myself."
"Just the three of you?"
"Voldemort knows as well." He sighed, "He was always in the library. In fact before Miss Granger, Tom Riddle was the last student given a key to the Restricted Section. He overheard a conversation between the Headmaster and myself, for I was still teaching at that time, and learned of the apparition chamber's existence. He could never get in, of course, he needed one of us to unblock his wand, like I just did for you, but he does send one of his followers every so often. Unfortunately, he never sees them again."
"Then how do we get out?" Harry wondered.
"The same spell that opened the door will allow also lower the spell that holds the room for the one with the correct wand. However, we won't be going anywhere today, I think. We'll stay inside these walls for now."
"What if I end up in China?"
"Then I suggest you come back."
"You know, we learned how to apparate last term, but I wasn't able to do it. I tried every time we went to Hogsmead. None of us managed it, but others did."
"So you don't think you have the capability?"
"I do, I mean I have before. Once, when I was running away from my cousin and his friends, I suddenly found myself sitting on a chimney. Now, when I try to do it, I don't move an inch. I'm doing something wrong."
Dumbledore moved to stand behind him and gave his instructions over Harry's shoulder. "Focus on the chair across the room and decide you want to stand beside it. Put all your emotion behind that one thought."
Harry did as he was told, his brow creased with effort and concentration. "It's not working." "Try harder."
* * *
Around three o'clock Dumbledore decided to call it a day. Harry had managed to get to the chair about two out of every ten tries, which was thrilling to him, but would obviously take some work. They agreed to meet the next morning and Harry was off to the cottage, a book called "Carving with Magic" under his arm.
Malfoy was in his boxers and shirtless when Harry returned, sunning himself on a chase lounge and reading the Quidditch Cup article in Witch Weekly. It stung him to see one of Sara's charms around Draco's neck, one that almost matched his own, but Harry was more upset by his state of undress.
"Well, there goes my appetite." Harry grimaced, "Put some clothes on, this isn't the locker room."
"Jealous?"
"Hardly. Smug bastard. I'll be back later. I have some work to do at the house." Harry informed him. "Why don't you just go ahead and make yourself at home."
"Of course I will." Draco grinned, "Oh and Potter? I used your toothbrush."
Harry appeared horrified. "Yuck! You've got a lot of nerve!"
"Just kidding. I went to Hogsmead and bought one."
"You're lucky. I was almost forced to re-break your nose." Harry grinned, "If you want we can chase the snitch around later. It's something to do that's outside."
"Sure. And after that, we'll go to Hogsmead."
"Alright. I need a few things anyway."
"What's that? Carving with Magic? You really are a pansy, aren't you? Will you make me a little ducky?"
"Sure, to go with all the other little things in your bathtub."
With that, Harry touched the key and disappeared, not wanting to have the conversation he'd just opened up.
The note was still on the kitchen table where he'd left it and although he was disappointed, it had only been 2 days. Obviously, she wouldn't go there as often as he would. As anxious as he was to get started, Harry decided to prepare for Sara's next visit.
He opened the house to a beautiful day and a warm ocean breeze. Charming the drifting debris from the patio, he snipped a big bouquet of white and lavender roses, fresh baby's breath, and some weird but pretty purple things and carried them back into the kitchen. There were vases of many shapes and sizes in the pantry and Harry picked what he judged to be the prettiest one, then sat at the table arranging the flowers until they were perfect. Only then did he open the book.
He'd read most of what he needed to know during the long lunch he and Dumbledore had taken, but needed to refresh his memory on a few things, jotting down notes and the spells he'd be using. He'd learned how to blast away rock, create a magical entrance, and use his wand to find caverns and even veins of ore. He was surprised at how basic it was, how simple.
After changing into his swimming trunks, Harry navigated the narrow ledge that led down the face of the cliff until his feet found the cold Atlantic and he shivered all over. The water was only up to his waist, but he couldn't bear the thought of submerging himself in it, regardless of the warm sunny day.
Aiming his wand at the area where he thought the cave was, he created an arc-shaped dam and was amazed when it worked yet again. It was something he'd made up on the spot when he'd first come down and really hadn't thought it would amount to much.
The gritty sand was still wet and cold under his feet, but it was better than nothing and Harry made a mental note to bring a pair of sandals on his next visit.
Laying his wand on the palm of his hand, a quick spell revealed he had been right about there being a cave behind his chalk outline and his excitement grew considerably. A cave would mean less rock removal, no matter what it's size. It could only be good, unless, of course, something lurked inside it.
A piece of chalk worked it's magic at his command, drawing perfect lines, precise spacing, and artful lettering over the older, faded drawing he'd done at Christmas. Stepping all the way back to the edge of the dam, Harry recited the words from the scrap of paper he'd brought and looked on with wide eyes as the chalk began to glow and seemed to sink into the stone and he gave the password. Diamond Tiara. Harry smiled in spite of himself. He'd had to pick something that wouldn't be said in conversation, and this was one thing he couldn't imagine coming from a boatful of Deatheaters. And it was a little joke on Sara, the storybook princess, who would one day live in a little castle high above this very spot.
He could see the frame for the arch had been etched deep into the rock and read the legend, smiling at his accomplishment. Friends may pass, but foe beware, lightning strikes all those who dare. Not very clever, but it did get the point across.
Now came the moment he'd been waiting for and bracing himself for a massive detonation, he shielded his face and sent a blast at the arch. The rock crumbled, but didn't explode, an enormous cloud of tiny pieces sweeping like dust out to sea. Harry had planned to break up the large chunks he'd expected and levitate them further into the water, but as it turned out, the spell carried out his bidding without any extra effort from him. All that was left behind was a gaping hole full of darkness and shadow in the perfectly rounded shape of the archway.
Without further ado, Harry stepped into the tunnel, holding his wand like a candle. "Lumos." He said, his voice echoing through the considerable dark. He waded through thirty meters of chest high water before he found his cave.
Astonishment came with the light and Harry stood rooted to the spot. Wow he thought, thinking this was more than just a cave and as he waded inside he realized this was a wide cavern, dotted with age-old stalactites and stalagmites, fused into solid columns of sediment. The roof was at least 15 feet high and he couldn't see any back wall, it just seemed to keep going.
The water was over his head in the cave, which he was glad of because he wouldn't have to deepen it for the boats, but now that he was soaking wet and freezing, exploring the cave seemed like a good plan for tomorrow. Besides, the sun was getting ready to set and Malfoy was expecting him, not that Harry cared if Draco had to wait, but a warm shower and some dry clothes sounded simply wonderful. He made his way out until he stood in the almost-dry work area. "Nox" he said, extinguishing his wand
Once he was back on the ledge, he released the dam and saw that the huge arch had filled itself in and looked just like a faint carving in in the rock, barely noticeable unless you knew it was there. A smile of promise touched Harry's lips as he climbed and already he couldn't wait to return.
The days passed quickly for Harry. He was enjoying Sirius' company and the two of them fished together every morning off the long dock, went out in the little boat after lunch, and spent the evenings sitting together on the porch of a small cabin, drinking Finnegan's Swill and catching up. It was the evenings that Harry liked best and he'd even been given over to laughter a few times, unable to help himself, the most acute of his misery slipping away.
They spent a week on the island. Harry checked the locator frequently, but it always said the same thing. Sara was "traveling", Hermione and Ron were usually either "home", "drinking" or "snogging", and he was "on holiday" . He kept the port-key in his pocket, just in case.
He'd been tempted to use it many, many times, but restrained himself. He would not drive himself mad going back there every few hours, just to see if she'd answered his note. It could be months before she went back, or not at all. He could not allow it to become an obsession or it could cost him his sanity.
Dumbledore was on the roof when they landed, stretched out on a chaise lounge, looking through last month's copy of Witch Weekly, left behind by Sara and Hermione. He was on the cover, to his dismay, wearing his Quidditch gear for the last time and holding the Quidditch Cup. He made up his mind to have a few words with Colin Creevey about selling his image, but did he really mind? He decided it wasn't important. Everyone wanted to make money doing what they most loved to do.
Dumbledore smiled over the magazine, but did not put it down.
"Do you find that trash interesting, Professor?"
"Did you know Harry, that according to this, you are heavily weighing the decision to play Quidditch for England? That's news to me."
"It's news to me, too. I never even considered it. I told you it was trash."
"Then it goes into a long story about Draco Malfoy and most of the pictures are of him." Dumbledore smiled, quickly thumbing past a picture of Harry and Sara alongside Ron and Hermione in London, the same picture that hung on the wall inside the tower.
Harry laughed, "I'm so glad I'm not blond and rich."
To this Dumbledore laughed as well. "Yes, what a curse that would be." He closed the magazine and set it aside. "I trust you and your friend had a satisfactory time?"
"It was great!" Harry grinned, "It was what I think camping must be like. I'd never been fishing before and I caught the most bizarre creatures. We threw them all back, of course. Sirius wanted to eat his, but I talked him out of it."
"What else would jump on a wizard's hook, but magic fish?"
Harry smiled. He was filthy, having helped restock the wood supply and clear out the fireplace, and wanted badly to get in the shower and change clothes. "I'd better get cleaned up." He said.
"Just a moment." Dumbledore lowered his voice, "I asked that you return today because an invitation came for you. It's from Draco Malfoy." He withdrew a folded note from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "He would like to meet you tonight in London. If you choose to go I was able to procure one of the Ministry's flats for your use."
Harry read the note.
Potter,
I want to talk to you. Meet me at The Phantom Friday night, and don't dress like an idiot.
DM
Knowing that Malfoy could very well have important information about Sara, he made his decision at once. "How do I get to London, sir?"
"You can get a port-key in Hogsmead. I don't suppose you'd use the floo network and risk offending Mr. Malfoy with sooty attire."
"Never." Harry smiled. "Hogsmead it is then. Will I see you before I leave?"
"I will wait for you. I was enjoying this article immensely. Did you know Draco had the highest grades at Hogwarts?"
"No."
Dumbledore smiled, "Neither did I."
The second he was dressed and his hair was combed, Harry opened the little gold box. He had been waiting for this moment for seven full days and could wait no longer. If he came up empty, he promised himself he would wait another week before trying again.
Instantly he stood just inside the front door, immediately surveying his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that the blood trail had been lifted from the carpet. He hurried to the table and there was the little half-sheet of paper, her writing faced up, not his. He held it, staring at the single word, relief flooding all his senses. He set it back down in favor of a small cardboard box that had not been there last week.
Inside he found an elaborate corkscrew which was silver with gold accent and covered in jewels. It was really an exquisite thing and Harry smiled, taking it down to the wine cellar, where he found a few new bottles, all French. They were set out in plain sight, like the corkscrew had been, and her voice echoed through his mind. 'Harry, look what I got!!' He smiled, wondering if he'd ever see her again.
They had amassed a collection of two other corkscrews and those were kept in a drawer next to the racks. Harry added the new one and hurried back up the stairs.
He took a soda out of the fridge and stared at the mirror with it's entwined hearts as he drank it. She hadn't cleaned it and he inwardly thanked her. He needed to look at it just as he'd needed an answer to his question.
He sat down and composed a new note, one he knew she would read, but probably wouldn't answer. It didn't matter. As much as he wanted to hear from her, he would feel better knowing she understood how he felt. He kept it short, deciding she would be less likely to read a long letter.
Sara,
I know about Lucius and I don't care! I'm glad you killed him, but I worry about how it must have affected you. You don't have to go through this alone. Please come home. I miss you.
Love, Harry
He left again quickly, an idea growing in his head, something he'd been looking forward to since they'd purchased the property last August. He would not wait a week to go back, he thought as he crossed to the roof, he might return as early as tomorrow morning.
"I think you went a little farther than the shower." Dumbledore questioned as Harry fell onto the freshly made bed, "Hiding port-keys, are you?"
"We didn't intend to use them here." Harry explained, knowing port-keys were against the rules. "They're for our house."
"So that's where you went. Trying to torture yourself, Harry?"
"She goes there, too, sir."
"And what is that you have in your hand? Is this what has changed your mood so drastically?"
Dumbledore took it and read Harry's words silently.
Do you have regrets?
Sara's reply was on the back..
Never.
* * *
Harry hadn't been to The Phantom since Christmas and as he entered, his pockets full of Sara's money, he decided it hadn't changed a bit. Being Friday night, the place was jam packed and Harry fought his way through to the back bar. He ordered a drink and looked around, finding he actually missed the three gorillas from his first visit. The place just wasn't the same without them.
He took a seat, wondering where he should begin his search for Malfoy, scanning the crowd for a blond head, of which he found many. A very attractive girl leaned on the bar beside him and smiled flirtatiously. She had fine features, with long golden hair and blue eyes. Harry gave her a polite nod and turned away.
He stood and dropped a tip onto the bar. To hell with Malfoy. He thought, There are too many memories here.
"You aren't leaving are you, Potter?" Came from over his shoulder.
Harry turned to find Malfoy smirking at him, impeccably dressed, as always. "Did you have to pick this place?" Harry asked, more upset than angry.
"Old ghosts, is it?" Malfoy tried to smile, but failed. "Come on, Potter. We'll go across the street. This is the best place to pick-up muggle girls, but I have a feeling we won't be doing much of that, am I right?"
Harry gave him a serious look of warning, then followed him out.
The Velvet Underground was darker, smaller, and more appealing to Harry. The over-crowded dance floor swarmed with energy and the music was super-charged. It was an old stone building, decorated with wrought iron and velvet, of course, not to mention black was everywhere.
"I like this place better in all honesty." Draco confessed, "But then I rarely venture out in search of good decor."
"Let's just get a drink."
They found a table in a dim corner, it was occupied, but Draco threw a wad of bills on the table and told them to get lost. Harry thought Malfoy was trying to get them beat up and was surprised when the group left happily, one of the guys clapping Draco on the shoulder and thanking him. Draco gave him his 'don't touch me' glare. The girls smiled.
It was away from the floor and the music was subdued so they wouldn't have to shout. Harry took a seat while Malfoy went to the bar and got them drinks. He returned with reddish concoctions that tasted better than they looked. Harry was glad of this, for he found he was getting sick of Finnegan's Swill, not that he would ever admit it out loud.
"So Malfoy, what's this little meeting about?"
"Nothing really."
"You said you needed to talk to me."
"No, Potter. Where'd you learn how to read? I said I wanted to talk to you. There's a difference."
"Do you mean you didn't want anything at all?"
The expression on Draco's face turned serious. "I was bored. I didn't want to see anyone else right now. Snape stayed a few days, but he thinks he's all wise and full of good advice. He doesn't understand."
Harry was sort-of touched, but bewildered. Malfoy despised him, it was a well known fact. "Why me?"
"Because, Potter. You're the only one I know who's as miserable as I am."
Harry smiled. "You know, Malfoy, I think you might be right. And after a few more of these," he held up his half-empty glass, "I may even find you tolerable."
"Hmm." Draco smiled back, "We'll see."
Harry cleared his throat, not knowing how to approach the subject except head-on. "I read the letters. And I know you kissed Sara the night of the Yule Ball."
"She was drunk, Potter. She doesn't give a shit about me."
"How I wish that were true." Harry sipped his drink, "The Elemental is drawn to dark things, and you're a dark thing. She adores you, and I think it sucks."
"You're wrong." Malfoy almost sneered, "Let's talk about something else."
"Fine. What's on your mind, then? You know what's on mine." Harry looked around the room, liking the darkness and the colored lights flashing. It felt good to be anonymous among people again, but he wasn't all that comfortable with Malfoy. In his opinion, Draco was acting strangely.
"I've seen Granger and the Weasel out a few times. Last time I told them to get a room. I swear, the two of them are disgusting."
Harry checked the locator just out of curiosity, and found Hermione and Ron's hands on "snogging". They soon moved to "Drinking". "I think they're at The Phantom."
"Good thing we left. I don't know how much of them I could take right now."
Harry felt a spark of anger. "Did you get me down here just to insult my friends?"
Malfoy sighed. "No. But it's your turn to get drinks. I went last time."
Harry went thankfully. He didn't want Malfoy to get on his nerves. As odd as the situation was, he wanted to stay for all the same reasons. It was nice to talk to someone who knew the situation, had been deeply affected by it, but was just as bitter as he was and offered no sympathy. He paid for the drinks and left a tip, feeling he should make it a little extra, considering he was wearing a small fortune in clothes and was in the company of Mr. Mega-Millions himself.
The drinks he set down and slid one in front of Malfoy, who said nothing, just pulled out the straw, flung it on the floor, and gulped down nearly half before returning it to the table. "The day I buried my father I cursed her, Potter. I cursed the day I met her."
"She had no choice. You know that."
"She could have told Dumbledore. She could have told you, even. But what did she do? She told me. The one person who could do nothing about it."
"You could have told someone just the same. She was scared, Malfoy. What's your excuse?"
"Don't get angry, Potter. I need to talk about it, stupid as that sounds. You asked me what it was about Sara that appeals to Slytherins. I honestly don't know, but I believed her when she said she knew what she was doing. She has a way of lying that fooled me completely and I'm sure it's the same for Snape. She's so charming and she has this air of innocence that has a tendency to disarm, as if she cast a spell with her presence. She knew what she was doing the whole time. It was all a play to put the weight on someone else's shoulders and let them be indirectly responsible when she goes out and kills my father."
"I won't let you blame her."
Draco went on as if Harry hadn't spoken. "I gave her a gift for Christmas, something you didn't know about. She left it next to my father's corpse, presumably for me to find. It's obvious what it means."
"Assume nothing, Malfoy, she's not here to defend herself and I don't know her reasons any better than you do. In fact, I came here hoping you had more to say about why Sara chose to walk out on me, but really this is just one big pity party and I won't humor you, Draco. I'd rather die."
"I had a visitor the other night, came into my bedroom as I slept. Do you know who it was?"
"No idea."
He lowered his voice and Harry leaned in to hear. "It was Voldemort himself."
Harry looked horrified and swallowed a lump in his throat. "So he's back, then. What did he want?"
"He wanted to know my intensions in the wake of my father's death. He asked if I would receive the Dark Mark."
"What did you say?"
"What else would I say? I told him to call at normal hours and to get the hell out of my room so I could get some sleep."
"And he didn't kill you?"
"No, but the next thing I knew I was flying through the air and was on my knees before him, that disgusting Wormtail wringing his hands by his master's side. I can honestly say I was scared half to death, but I only let him see my annoyance."
"What happened?"
"I said I had not decided, that it was too soon. He gave me two months to join him and he offered me my father's place if I brought him the Elemental."
"What?! Malfoy! You wouldn't?!"
"I'll never hand her over to him. Even if it meant my life, but I can't say what I would do if she walked into the room at this moment. Part of me wants to find her and make her pay for her betrayal. Part of me wants to forgive her. I just don't know."
"And the Mark? Will you submit to such a thing?"
"Really Potter! Of course not!"
"And you think he'll take it well?"
"Probably not."
"Dumbledore can help you. Come back with me."
"To Hogwarts? Are you mad? I finally got out of that place just two weeks ago and you think I'll go back? You must have taken a bludger to the head at some point."
"Do what you want, it's no concern of mine. Just know that he'll help you if you want to live to see eighteen."
"I already am 18! For two months now. I'm older than you. How depressing."
"Not for long it sounds."
"We'll see."
"Malfoy? Why are you telling me this? Do you want my help or a shoulder to cry on?"
"I knew this was a stupid idea." He said and stood.
"Wait." Harry grabbed his arm. He did not give Harry the 'don't touch me' glare. "It's your turn for drinks. Don't come back empty-handed."
Malfoy hesitated, then smiled and went to the bar.
* * *
"Where are you staying? I'll drop you off. We can't have The Boy Who Lived staggering down the streets of London, now can we?" Draco slid into his chauffeured limo, indicating Harry join him.
Harry got in, admiring the soft leather seats and expensive looking interior, complete with a wet bar. "Wiltshire and Tulip. Dumbledore got me a Ministry flat for the night."
"And you're going to sleep there?"
"I had planned on it, yes."
"My father got me one of those dumpy flats once. The bed wasn't even changed from the last person, in fact there was still a head mark on the pillow. There was a fly buzzing around the place and it smelled moldy. I went to the Wescott and got a room."
Harry's face crumpled. If that's the sort of place they would offer the son of Lucius Malfoy, then what would his look like? "Maybe I'll do the same."
"I'll tell you what. I've got a house up in the hills and I've got more guest rooms than friends."
Spend the night at Malfoy's house. The offer was almost too tempting, regardless of the earlier part of their discussion, before they got really drunk and forgot they hated each other. So far they'd had a great time, once the topics turned from Sara and Voldemort to Draco giving full commentary on the couple making out in the corner. Harry hadn't laughed so hard in months and in his altered state thought hanging out at Malfoy's was a wonderful idea. "Do you have a pool?"
"Yes, but I'm not swimming with you. Besides," Draco laughed, "I think we'd sink. I do have a daiquiri machine and a really loud stereo."
"Do you have The Beatles?" Harry wondered as the car turned right and headed up an incline.
"You're so lame, Potter. Who gets cross-eyed and listens to The Beatles? Is that a bit of Gryffindor fun?"
"Why, what did you have in mind?"
"Marilyn Manson. There's a bunch of it in that Muggle-Music pack you gave me for Christmas."
"Really? The one you gave me is full of Gospel and this really horrible country and western."
"Oh, sorry. I thought you would like that pansy stuff. Butterflies and Sunday School and some down-home whiny crap about wholesome back-woods livin'."
"You're really a creep, Malfoy. Did you know?" Harry grinned as they passed through a black iron gate. "But I'm glad you liked mine. I thought devil music would appeal to you."
"Shove off, Potter. At least I put some thought behind it."
"I suppose you did."
The car came to a stop outside a grand front door of dark wood, carved in a medieval fashion and when Harry stepped out he was surprised by a small gothic mansion. It loomed above, imposing and beautiful. He was awed, but wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of impressing him.
"Nice house. The rent cheap?"
"I don't know what the rent is, jackass. I just picked it out."
"I wouldn't want all that money. A lot of money is nice, but just enough so that you don't lose sight of things. You must like it though." Harry smirked.
Draco's face turned serious and he walked through the front hall with nonchalance, his hands clasped behind his back. "I used to. Now it feels like I'm trying to compensate for something that can never be replaced." He didn't wait for Harry to answer, "Take your shoes off."
Draco led him to a room with large Turkish rugs, renaissance furnishings, and a Medieval theme. Gold suits of armor stood on each side of the mantle and in every corner of the room. There must have been a hundred candles burning, wine was already on ice next to two glasses and a chess board sat on a low table surrounded by large cushions. Malfoy went to the stereo and Harry looked around, grinning, imagining this was where Draco probably brought women. "Are you planning to seduce me, Malfoy?" Harry laughed.
"Hardly, Potter. You're not my type." Draco smiled. "This just happens to be where the stereo is. Sit down and I'll get some drinks."
"No way. I want to see you make them."
"Fine. To the kitchen then." Draco turned the music up to ear-splitting decibels and led Harry to a large room in the back corner of the house where the daiquiri machine sat alone on a counter, seemingly custom made for this appliance. There were many different mixers on a rack and Draco looked through these, pondering each before he looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Pina colada or grasshopper?" before Harry could answer, Draco made up his mind. "I don't feel like mint."
Harry closed his mouth and sat on a stool at the end of a large marble island, watching as Malfoy measured out ingredients like he'd done it a million times and dumped them into a blender while the top half of the contraption chewed up the ice. After a minute, he released the slush into the blender and turned it on. Within moments, they had their oversized drinks and set to wandering the rooms with them.
"So Malfoy, what are you planning to do about Voldemort?"
"There's nothing to be done." Draco said heavily, "So Potter, will you come to my funeral?"
"How can you make jokes like that? It isn't funny! Not at all!"
"No, it isn't. Unfortunately, it's realistic."
"I don't understand." Harry said, sipping his drink, "Why won't you let Dumbledore help you?"
"That old fool?"
"You don't have to like him, Draco. Stay at Hogwarts, I'm sure Snape would take you on as an apprentice. You'll be safe for awhile."
"I prefer to live dangerously."
"Yeah, or not at all." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Draco, do you want my help? Is that it? All you have to do is ask."
"Don't hold your breath. One Harry Potter rescue is my quota for life."
"Whatever, Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Perhaps you should ask Crabb and Goyle then? If there's one thing I've learned it's that good friends are invaluable in such situations. If you ask me, you don't seem to have too many of those."
"I've got friends!" Draco defended.
"So where are they when the Dark Lord is at your door?"
"Standing behind him."
"I see." Harry said and rubbed his eyes. They'd both had too much to drink and he was starting to feel the welcomed drowsiness, the festive mood slipping away. Voldemort and death threats usually had that effect on him. "I'll ask you one more time to come back with me."
"Stay here, Potter. No one would be the wiser. No one even knows where I live."
"You've gone mad."
"I can't go back to school and hide from him. There's no honor in it."
Unease had settled under Harry's skin, though he didn't know why and attempted to shrug off the urge to turn and run out of Draco's house. Harry cast his eyes at the floor, noticing his drink had melted and he'd barely touched it. He had surrendered completely to excess, feeling relief in the detachment that it brought, and Draco had been the perfect companion. He saw his suffering reflected in Draco, and that made returning a smile acceptable, joining in laughter became alright again. "I can't stay here, Malfoy. I have my obligations. It's Hogwarts or you take your chances."
Draco seemed to consider this, his hand on his chin, holding his pina colada, all but forgotten. Harry checked the locator out of habit while Malfoy paced the floor, heavily weighing his decision. Ron and Hermione were "sleeping", Sara was still "traveling", and he was...in "mortal peril".
It took a moment to register and he suddenly wished he hadn't drank so much. Quick thinking was crucial and his mind was telling him to get out.
"It's getting late." He said, casually putting his free hand in his pocket and moved very close to Malfoy, mere inches from him. His fingers flicked open the lid of the little gold box in his pocket. His voice barely a whisper, he looked Draco in the eye. "Grab my arm. Now."
There was an intensity in Harry's eyes that led Draco to act without question. Harry still held his drink and so did he, but his free hand wrapped around Harry's wrist.
Harry touched the key.
* * *
Harry pulled his arm from Malfoy's grasp, nearly overbalancing in his haste to draw his wand. He almost spilled his drink, but managed to point in the vicinity of Draco's loathsome blond head. "You set me up!"
"What are you talking about, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, "And where the hell are we?" He looked around, forgetting there was a very angry wizard pointing a wand at his head, "Is this your house?" He turned and wandered into the dining room, sipping his melted daiquiri and taking everything in. "It's nice." He said, as if making a final decision. "I like it. Too bad it's so small."
Harry still stood by the front door, his wand held at arm's length, bewildered. He got the feeling Malfoy had no idea they'd been in mortal peril. He checked the locator again, only to find he was "home". Draco had not been the threat and seemed honest in his perplexity.
Harry caught up to Draco, glancing once at the letter he'd left on the table, which remained unanswered and unread. Malfoy was looking at the mirror, which still held two entwined hearts, one in lipstick, the other in black marker. He had a very odd look on his face, not a pleasant one, but something like gloomy consternation. Harry stood next to him, his heart still racing from their near-encounter and sorrow now invaded him as well as he looked at the mirror.
"We weren't alone at your house."
"Of course not. I do have servants, you know. They just stay out of sight like they're told."
Harry showed him the locator. Draco looked at it without much interest, shrugged and sipped his drink.
"It was on "mortal peril" when I brought us here."
"Potter, no one could just walk into my house. I've got a muggle alarm, all the usual wards and then some. I think you need another drink."
Harry ignored the sarcasm. "You said Voldemort came into your room in the night. Tell me, how did he get in?"
Draco's face went pale, realizing that Harry was actually quite serious. "I don't know."
"Perhaps you should consider moving." He hesitated, "You could always go home."
"I can't sleep there." He admitted, "It's creepy now. The place where my parents were murdered."
"You're not safe where you are. We need to tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."
"We're not in school anymore, Potter! When are you going to stop running to the Headmaster? We're full-fledged wizards now, we handle our own problems."
"That sort of rationale is going to get you killed, Draco. Could you be any more like Sara? Insisting on handling overwhelming problems on your own, unnecessarily. You saw how wrong everything turned out in that case. Tell me, did you ever insist she go to Dumbledore about Lucius?"
"I did. So what! It's got nothing to do with what's going on now."
"And she wouldn't listen, even though you could clearly see she was in need of help, endangering herself by being stubborn, and unwilling to see reason."
"Yes, exactly. I wanted to shake some sense into her a few times. It was infuriating!"
"Then you know how I feel right now, Malfoy. You're arrogant, impossible, and downright irritating. If you don't listen to me you'll be sorry and by then there will be no room to reconsider."
"Oh shut-up, Potter. I never should have told you."
"How about a compromise?" Harry offered, "Come back to school for a few days. Give me some time to think about it. Talk to Snape. He escaped Voldemort, perhaps he has some sort of knowledge he could give you. You don't have to tell Dumbledore, but you should at least hear his advice. He won't help you unless you want him to."
Draco swayed on his feet for the first time, having stringently kept a sober composure all evening and Harry wondered how he managed it. They'd had the same amount of drinks and Harry knew Malfoy was just as affected as he was, but Harry was definitely a little off-balance. Draco was thinking and wandered into the guest room, abandoning his drink and collapsing on the bed. Harry climbed onto the foot and sat down cross-legged, awaiting his response.
"Alright." He said, "I'll stay a night or two, but it's so that I can decide what I want to do. Promise you won't go running to Dumbledore."
"I'll do no such thing. I've seen the destruction that lies behind such promises. I'll tell him if I think you're throwing caution to the wind, but I'm not his informant, Malfoy. I'll let you try to work it out first if you insist."
"Can I have this bed?"
"No." Harry sighed, "We can't stay here." He realized he was still holding the warm pina colada and took another sip. "No one has ever slept in this house and I won't let you be the first."
Draco's head came off the pillow. "And where the hell do you think we're going? We don't even have any shoes! We left them at my house!"
"I have a port-key that will take us to Hogsmead. We can walk to the castle from there."
"I despise you, Potter. Did I ever tell you that? It's three-thirty in the morning!!!"
"It's not that far and it's a warm night. If we leave now we can be asleep in an hour."
"My feet will get dirty!"
"Probably."
"Perhaps in the morning I'll repay you with a broken nose. You have one coming if you recall."
"I recall. Now get up. Let's go."
* * *
Hogsmead was nearly silent as they passed through, still carrying their pina coladas and occationally sipping them. Draco complained about hurting his bare feet on the cobblestone lane, his socks crammed in his pockets, his eyes drunk and sleepy. Harry felt much the same and longed to touch the port-key and just go to bed, but the thought of Draco Malfoy sleeping in their house kept his feet moving.
They hardly spoke and the walk took about twenty minutes, but finally the front door was in sight.
"Come on." Harry said, pulling it open and ushering Malfoy inside, "I'm going to collapse in about five minutes."
"No kidding." Draco sighed, "I think I died about a ten minutes ago. Would you tell me if I was transparent and ethereal?"
The stairs from the great hall to the third floor were laborious and tiring, but once inside the base of the tower, Sara's rooms were just a quick broom ride away. Harry went straight to the roof, where the bed still resided, quickly charmed the dirt from his feet, and fell into it. Malfoy, to his surprise, had followed suit and collapsed onto Sara's side.
Harry yawned, snuggling into the pillow. "There are other beds, you know."
Malfoy yawned in return, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "This one's closest. If you touch me I'll kill you."
Harry didn't reply because he was already asleep. Draco didn't notice anyway, drifting off even as he spoke.
* * *
Sara paced the floor in her rented palazzo. Moonlight splashed the rich marble tile, the Mediterranean crashing against the breaker just below the veranda. Every once in a while a bit of salty sea water sprayed up over the rail. It dried quickly in the warm Italian moonlight.
Awakened by a vivid dream of Harry, Sara was anxious and unable to get back to sleep. It was more like a vision, and she saw him standing with Draco, a sinister shadow of advancing threat moved silently behind them, unnoticed. She'd snapped awake, terrified and unable to shake off the dread that seemed to grab her by the throat, making it hard to breathe.
The locator was on the stand by the bed. She'd gotten it quickly and was flooded with relief when it read "home". It was just a dream after all, but what was Harry doing at the cottage at this hour? At first she thought he was spending the night, but it would have said he was sleeping. Also, the arm kept moving back and forth between "home" and "drinking". Then again, it said he was drinking quite often lately, which depressed her immensely. Harry was not a big drinker. Even when they'd had their Friday night parties on the roof, he only ever had a few, especially after the attack on her birthday. It was her abandonment which was pushing him past his limits, and Sara for one knew how inviting the idea of drowning your sorrow could be. She'd done it when her parents died, practically every night for months, and continued to deal with her problems in the same way, all the way up to the day she had left. Since then she had vowed to drink a glass of wine with dinner at most, and to never hide from her emotions again, for Harry's sake as well as her own.
She wasn't sure what had brought her to Florence. She had thought she would go to Romania where she knew she could find help for what ailed her. The Gypsy community there harbored the secrets of the Elemental and had throughout time, so it was the only logical destination, but Sara simply wasn't ready to face the darkness in her soul. There were things she had to deal with first, like the death of her mother and father, the overwhelming force inside her that could be so hard to control, and the way she drew the interests of the Dark Lord, Voldemort.
Evil appealed to her, not to become evil herself, but to observe it, to lose herself in people like Lucius Malfoy, who attracted her physically, mentally, and on many levels. She had to find her inner strength, and embrace it in a manner which she could maintain, unwaveringly, for life. Danger followed her everywhere and her often timid reaction to any sort of threat almost invited it and Sara refused to jeopardize her loved ones through weakness. They could fend for themselves, this she knew, but the part of her that kept secrets imperiled them at every turn. With this on her mind, she brought the Orb of Arassel to the table in her room and sat down in front of it.
"Show me Harry."
As usual, it didn't. She saw a brief glimmer of the tower, a bed sat right in the middle, but it was fuzzy, clouded, and distant. For some reason, her talent did not extend to Harry. She felt things from him, but not like it was with other people. Images did not flash through her mind when she touched Harry. Her divining sense barely noticed him. It was more of an awareness that she had. She knew when he needed her, when he was upset, and when he was angry. She felt a bond with Harry that defied comprehension.
Sara went back to bed, the Orb gone dark.
* * *
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his hands clasped casually behind his back, dressed comfortably for a few hours in the library with Dumbledore.
"What does it look like?" Draco shot back, "Potter, I think it's time for a new pair of glasses." He lowered his wand and set the bed down on the roof a few feet from Sara's, the sheets neatly re-tucking themselves after traveling sideways through the doors.
Harry only gave him a blank stare, thinking Malfoy was a little presumptuous. When he'd invited him to stay at Hogwarts, he hadn't necessarily meant on the roof with him. Or even in the tower for that matter.
"I want to sleep out here. I liked it."
"I like it, too." Harry agreed, "To be in bed, but staring up at the sky and high above the world, it's nice."
"How whimsical. Do you write poetry, too?" Draco was being sarcastic, as usual.
"Yes. In fact, I just wrote a poem for you, Malfoy. It goes like this;
You own an estate and you're pretty like a girl,
with the mind of a snake and the heart of a squirrel."
Harry grinned his victory and went out, soon to be late for his first private lesson. They wouldn't be doing much more than talking, Harry figured, though he brought a notebook, just in case.
The Headmaster was waiting in the library when he arrived a few minutes early. He was standing between the stacks and the tables, leaning on his staff, and smiling at Harry. "I see Mr. Malfoy followed you home. A rather odd thing for him to do, but at least misery has found company."
"The wrong company." Harry sighed, "He's cut himself off from the other Slytherins. He said he was bored."
"And did he have any new revelations for us?"
"No, nothing. Except that he wouldn't hand Sara over to Voldemort, but if she walked into the room he's not sure whether or not he would kill her. That's about it."
"That's about enough as well." Dumbledore sighed. "Severus did say Draco was angry. I can't say as I blame him, but it's troublesome indeed. What else did he say?"
Harry hesitated, a few thoughts coming to mind. "Nothing."
Dumbledore smiled with a hint of curiosity.
"It must have been an interesting evening. As I recall you and Draco aren't on the best of terms."
"Actually, it was fun for the most part. You'd never know it, but he can be very funny and he's different now, even more so than this past school year. I'm not sure if it's good or not, but personally I thought he was next to normal, which for someone like Malfoy, is a little weird."
"I'm sure he'll be back to his old self in no time." Dumbledore turned and indicated Harry walk with him. "Now Harry, I think it's time you learned how to apparate."
"But I thought apparating was impossible at Hogwarts?"
"It is, but there are times when it's entirely necessary, so we have a secret chamber, of course."
They approached the shelves that lined the back walls and Dumbledore drew his wand, touching it to the spine of a large black book, covered in dust. At his instruction, Harry did the same. With the password a swirl of light spiraled the length of Harry's wand and the bookcase came forward, then moved aside, revealing a set of ancient stone steps and plenty of cobwebs. Clearly, no one had been in here for quite some time. Dumbledore spoke, as if in answer. "The last time this door was opened was the day your parents died, Harry. Now it opens once again for you. Come, there's a skill to be mastered."
It was a large chamber, not huge, but about the size of the Gryffindor common room, dusty and without windows. In one corner of the room sat a wooden table with one chair, along another wall was a long stone ledge upon which one could sleep. To Harry's dismay, a skeleton lay crumbling on one end of it. There were two covered urns on the table and Harry moved to inspect them. One read "Nutrium Potion", the other "Poison".
Dumbledore was looking over the remains when Harry turned to him. "Wizards get stuck in here?"
"Yes. Wizards like this rather unfortunate fellow. One turns up every once in a while and eventually chooses the poison. I used to come down occasionally, but it's slipped my mind these past few years. I wonder how long our friend here lasted?"
"Sir!" Harry said, shocked.
"Don't worry, Harry. Any wizard who tries to get into Hogwarts through this chamber is not on our side. There are very few who know about it. Minerva, Hagrid, and myself."
"Just the three of you?"
"Voldemort knows as well." He sighed, "He was always in the library. In fact before Miss Granger, Tom Riddle was the last student given a key to the Restricted Section. He overheard a conversation between the Headmaster and myself, for I was still teaching at that time, and learned of the apparition chamber's existence. He could never get in, of course, he needed one of us to unblock his wand, like I just did for you, but he does send one of his followers every so often. Unfortunately, he never sees them again."
"Then how do we get out?" Harry wondered.
"The same spell that opened the door will allow also lower the spell that holds the room for the one with the correct wand. However, we won't be going anywhere today, I think. We'll stay inside these walls for now."
"What if I end up in China?"
"Then I suggest you come back."
"You know, we learned how to apparate last term, but I wasn't able to do it. I tried every time we went to Hogsmead. None of us managed it, but others did."
"So you don't think you have the capability?"
"I do, I mean I have before. Once, when I was running away from my cousin and his friends, I suddenly found myself sitting on a chimney. Now, when I try to do it, I don't move an inch. I'm doing something wrong."
Dumbledore moved to stand behind him and gave his instructions over Harry's shoulder. "Focus on the chair across the room and decide you want to stand beside it. Put all your emotion behind that one thought."
Harry did as he was told, his brow creased with effort and concentration. "It's not working." "Try harder."
* * *
Around three o'clock Dumbledore decided to call it a day. Harry had managed to get to the chair about two out of every ten tries, which was thrilling to him, but would obviously take some work. They agreed to meet the next morning and Harry was off to the cottage, a book called "Carving with Magic" under his arm.
Malfoy was in his boxers and shirtless when Harry returned, sunning himself on a chase lounge and reading the Quidditch Cup article in Witch Weekly. It stung him to see one of Sara's charms around Draco's neck, one that almost matched his own, but Harry was more upset by his state of undress.
"Well, there goes my appetite." Harry grimaced, "Put some clothes on, this isn't the locker room."
"Jealous?"
"Hardly. Smug bastard. I'll be back later. I have some work to do at the house." Harry informed him. "Why don't you just go ahead and make yourself at home."
"Of course I will." Draco grinned, "Oh and Potter? I used your toothbrush."
Harry appeared horrified. "Yuck! You've got a lot of nerve!"
"Just kidding. I went to Hogsmead and bought one."
"You're lucky. I was almost forced to re-break your nose." Harry grinned, "If you want we can chase the snitch around later. It's something to do that's outside."
"Sure. And after that, we'll go to Hogsmead."
"Alright. I need a few things anyway."
"What's that? Carving with Magic? You really are a pansy, aren't you? Will you make me a little ducky?"
"Sure, to go with all the other little things in your bathtub."
With that, Harry touched the key and disappeared, not wanting to have the conversation he'd just opened up.
The note was still on the kitchen table where he'd left it and although he was disappointed, it had only been 2 days. Obviously, she wouldn't go there as often as he would. As anxious as he was to get started, Harry decided to prepare for Sara's next visit.
He opened the house to a beautiful day and a warm ocean breeze. Charming the drifting debris from the patio, he snipped a big bouquet of white and lavender roses, fresh baby's breath, and some weird but pretty purple things and carried them back into the kitchen. There were vases of many shapes and sizes in the pantry and Harry picked what he judged to be the prettiest one, then sat at the table arranging the flowers until they were perfect. Only then did he open the book.
He'd read most of what he needed to know during the long lunch he and Dumbledore had taken, but needed to refresh his memory on a few things, jotting down notes and the spells he'd be using. He'd learned how to blast away rock, create a magical entrance, and use his wand to find caverns and even veins of ore. He was surprised at how basic it was, how simple.
After changing into his swimming trunks, Harry navigated the narrow ledge that led down the face of the cliff until his feet found the cold Atlantic and he shivered all over. The water was only up to his waist, but he couldn't bear the thought of submerging himself in it, regardless of the warm sunny day.
Aiming his wand at the area where he thought the cave was, he created an arc-shaped dam and was amazed when it worked yet again. It was something he'd made up on the spot when he'd first come down and really hadn't thought it would amount to much.
The gritty sand was still wet and cold under his feet, but it was better than nothing and Harry made a mental note to bring a pair of sandals on his next visit.
Laying his wand on the palm of his hand, a quick spell revealed he had been right about there being a cave behind his chalk outline and his excitement grew considerably. A cave would mean less rock removal, no matter what it's size. It could only be good, unless, of course, something lurked inside it.
A piece of chalk worked it's magic at his command, drawing perfect lines, precise spacing, and artful lettering over the older, faded drawing he'd done at Christmas. Stepping all the way back to the edge of the dam, Harry recited the words from the scrap of paper he'd brought and looked on with wide eyes as the chalk began to glow and seemed to sink into the stone and he gave the password. Diamond Tiara. Harry smiled in spite of himself. He'd had to pick something that wouldn't be said in conversation, and this was one thing he couldn't imagine coming from a boatful of Deatheaters. And it was a little joke on Sara, the storybook princess, who would one day live in a little castle high above this very spot.
He could see the frame for the arch had been etched deep into the rock and read the legend, smiling at his accomplishment. Friends may pass, but foe beware, lightning strikes all those who dare. Not very clever, but it did get the point across.
Now came the moment he'd been waiting for and bracing himself for a massive detonation, he shielded his face and sent a blast at the arch. The rock crumbled, but didn't explode, an enormous cloud of tiny pieces sweeping like dust out to sea. Harry had planned to break up the large chunks he'd expected and levitate them further into the water, but as it turned out, the spell carried out his bidding without any extra effort from him. All that was left behind was a gaping hole full of darkness and shadow in the perfectly rounded shape of the archway.
Without further ado, Harry stepped into the tunnel, holding his wand like a candle. "Lumos." He said, his voice echoing through the considerable dark. He waded through thirty meters of chest high water before he found his cave.
Astonishment came with the light and Harry stood rooted to the spot. Wow he thought, thinking this was more than just a cave and as he waded inside he realized this was a wide cavern, dotted with age-old stalactites and stalagmites, fused into solid columns of sediment. The roof was at least 15 feet high and he couldn't see any back wall, it just seemed to keep going.
The water was over his head in the cave, which he was glad of because he wouldn't have to deepen it for the boats, but now that he was soaking wet and freezing, exploring the cave seemed like a good plan for tomorrow. Besides, the sun was getting ready to set and Malfoy was expecting him, not that Harry cared if Draco had to wait, but a warm shower and some dry clothes sounded simply wonderful. He made his way out until he stood in the almost-dry work area. "Nox" he said, extinguishing his wand
Once he was back on the ledge, he released the dam and saw that the huge arch had filled itself in and looked just like a faint carving in in the rock, barely noticeable unless you knew it was there. A smile of promise touched Harry's lips as he climbed and already he couldn't wait to return.