Being the forgetful person that I am, I forgot to answer someone's question in the last chapter — Fatum is the Latin word for 'Fate'. Now on with the story!
Chapter Twelve: In Need of Assistance
Harry had only been to the Greasy Pub once, which was just a couple of months ago. Sirius brought him over on his 18th birthday to 'celebrate his manhood'. If Harry remembered correctly, he only had about three drinks before completely passing out. Needless to say, he was not in a hurry to return. But Ginny's life may be at stake, so he reluctantly entered.
It certainly looked like someplace Draco would go. Dim, dingy, and dreary — all key essentials of a makeshift Slytherin common room. One would wonder what would ever cause Draco to turn to a place like this, though quite frankly, he didn't care. He snaked his way through the vile customers that inhabited the Pub, and kept his keen, Seeker eyes open for any hint of silver hair.
"What would you like, darling?" simpered a waitress with heavy makeup. Promptly ignoring her, Harry moved towards the bar, where he found who he'd been looking for. Draco was slouching over the bar, with four or five shot glasses scattered around him. One arm was used to support his head, while the other was curled around an empty glass. Draco looked to be sound asleep, with a tiny trickle of drool escaping his mouth.
Harry rolled his eyes and shoved the boy's shoulder, a bit rougher than he really needed to. With a snort, Draco awoke, and glanced around the Pub with a dazed expression. He did a doubletake before his eyes finally rested on Harry, and within an instant, his usual smirk was plastered on his face.
"Didn't know you were a drinker, Potter," said Draco, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Harry shot him a cold look, and stuffed his hands in his pocket.
"Shove it, Malfoy, I'm not here for games."
Draco feigned disappointment.
"Aw, and here I was getting my hopes up and everything."
Harry's left eye twitched. He stiffened his back and quickly ignored Draco's comment. He was there for a purpose, and he wouldn't let Draco's wit provoke him.
"Shut up for a second and let me talk, okay?" he snapped, feeling his temper rise with every breath.
Draco's smirk grew, but he didn't say anything. Harry sighed, and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. He took a deep breath, wishing for the umpteenth time that someone else could do it for him.
"Any second now," sang Draco, and received another icy glare from Harry. Swallowing his pride, Harry spoke.
"I — well, what I mean to say is... that... You see, we — "
"You woke me up for this?"
"I need your help," Harry said quickly, and winced at Draco's look of surprise. His eyes widened to an unnatural size, and his mouth hung so loosely it was if his jaw was unhinged. Very slightly, the corners of his lips began to twitch, and suddenly he was doubling over in laughter. Harry's eye began to twitch more rapidly as Draco began to pound on the bar.
"S-Say that again!" Draco managed to say. "Y-You!" he choked, and clutched his sides. "My help!"
Harry tried very hard not to lose his temper. He really did. But before he could stop himself, he had Draco by the collar and dangerously close enough for him to see between his teeth. Draco's laughing immediately stopped.
"You know, this is not the best way to ask for help," Draco drawled, eyeing Harry's hand that gripped his shirt collar with a look that said "paws off or I'll behead you".
Harry snarled, then shoved Draco away. Draco, regaining his composure, began to dust his shirt off.
"And what makes you think I'll even consider helping you?" said Draco, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm not asking for me," Harry said stiffly.
Draco cocked his brow, looking semi-interested.
"I figured as much," he said. "You'd've rather died to Voldemort ten times over before coming to me."
For once, Harry actually agreed with him. Draco chuckled.
"So who're you asking for?"
Harry's mood took a turn for the grave, and his green eyes darkened. He looked as if somebody had died, and Draco felt strangley unnerved by it.
"It's Ginny."
* * *
She awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard that she felt it would burst. The images had left her mind at once. She could no longer remember just exactly what she had been dreaming about, but she knew it was horrible. The nightmare left her feeling extremely cold and covered in goosebumps.
She shivered at the forgotten memory and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, when she realized she couldn't. Her hands were behind her back and in the same situation as her feet — binded tightly together with rope.
Panic spread through her veins. It was all coming back to her — Draco, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and Rosa. The sudden thought of the age-decreasing woman brought along the horrid memory of being knocked out and dragged...
She had been kidnapped. Panicked, she struggled in her bindings, only making the ropes scrape against her skin and cut her.
She let out a whimper as blood trickled down her hands. Her eyes were welling up in desperate tears, and her breathing quickened. She had just enough sanity to look around her, and realized with a start that she was in a bedroom. A really old bedroom, judging from the state of the furniture, which were all buried under layers of dust. All except the bed, which she was currently sitting on. It bore new and freshly laundered sheets, as if it were made especially for her. That fact seemed to frighten her more, and she tossed around, hoping to at least loosen the ropes around her.
She failed miserably.
That was when Ginny saw it. A door, wide enough to fit both Charlie and Bill, and tall enough for Ron, was placed conveniently in front of the bed.
With a new sense of determination, she brought her knees to her chest, and began to wiggle her arms beneath her to bring them to her front. She managed to do so, though it left her with a sharp, throbbing pain in her left shoulder. But with her hands now in front of her, she was able to crawl off the bed and topple off.
She fell with a loud thud and shriek, creating a cloud of dust to swarm around her. As the dust began to disappear, she set out for the door. She was only a few feet away when the door swung open, surprising her and knocking her down on her bum.
She blinked up at the bright light pouring in, and only then realized just how dark the room had been. It took a while for her eyes to adjust, but when it did, she saw a person — a woman, judging from the outline — standing over her. The woman stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The room had gone pitch-black again, and Ginny wondered how she ever found her way around.
"Dear, dear," said the woman, her voice smooth and velvety, reminding Ginny oddly of Draco. Though the woman's tone had a higher amount of sarcasm than Draco usually did. The woman raised her hand, and Ginny was able to make out a rough outline of the item she held — a wand. With a flick of it, Ginny was sent flying back to the bed, inadvertently knocking her head on the headboard. Ginny would've sworn if the woman hadn't gagged her, which she did immediately after Ginny had landed.
"The floor is no place for a lady," the woman said sweetly, and though it was dark, Ginny was certain she was sneering.
Ginny followed the woman's dark silhouette move its way across the room, and began to light the candles around the bed. A strong fragrance, which Ginny knew as Jasmine from Herbology, soon filled her nostrils, stinging them slightly.
After having lit the twelfth and last candle, the woman stepped forward, and Ginny was allowed her first real look at her. She was most definitely a woman, Ginny thought, as her eyes took in the woman's curves. Like Ginny, her hair was red, looking almost scarlet. And the dim lighting the candles provided, Ginny was able to make out the bright blue of her eyes, though alongside the crimson of her mane, it looked near purple.
Ginny felt a slight tinge of jealousy within her, though she quickly squashed the feeling after remembering that this woman could very well be her kidnapper. Though in the corner of her mind, a voice spoke up, reminding her that the person who kidnapped her was not this woman, but Rosa.
Still, Ginny thought as she eyed the superior look the woman was giving her, she couldn't be trusted.
"Don't recognize me, do you?" the woman asked, her heavily shaded lips forming a grin.
Ginny felt her head shake in reply.
The woman's grin grew. "I wouldn't've expected you to. I was a year older than you in Hogwarts afterall."
Hogwarts, Ginny thought. She tried very hard to try and remember any other redhead in Hogwarts, but her mind was blank.
The woman made a noise through her nose, and shifted her weight to her other leg.
"Yes, a whole year," the woman continued, stating the fact as if it made the biggest difference in the world. "In Slytherin too, no doubt. But apparently, age and rank are mean nothing, seeing as how you know Draco."
The sudden mentioning of Draco's name did exactly what the woman had wanted, and caused a panicked reaction from Ginny. She squealed and shouted through the thick scarf used to gag her, but the woman feigned ignorance and began to examine her nails.
"I thought it to be very weird indeed," the woman continued, as if Ginny had never interrupted her, "that a person like you would even be associated with Draco."
She stopped looking at her perfectly manicured nails just in time to see Ginny glare at her. She smiled.
"You can just imagine my surprise to see him actually save you from dear Franco," the woman went on, and Ginny was given the honor of being reminded of the dirty scum that tried to feel her when she was in Knockturn Alley.
"It was thoroughly disgusting to see him display such nobility," said the woman, making a face that, for just a split second, made her look less than perfect. "I wanted very much to crush him right then and there."
She paused, and regarded Ginny for a moment before continuing.
"But I knew I couldn't," she explained, looking very disappointed. "We needed him."
A slightly dreamy expression clouded her eyes. She heaved a sigh and turned back to Ginny, and for a moment, she looked almost sympathetic.
But only for a moment.
"Enough about that," she said, a devilish grin plastered across her face. "Now it's time for some fun."
Ginny, having not fully digested what the woman had just told her, could only imagine what the woman's definition for 'fun' would be.
* * *
"Why is he here?"
Draco gave Ron a withering look.
"If you'd rather I leave then..."
"Malfoy — stuff it," said Hermione, always the peacemaker, and turned to her roommate. "You need to calm down. You know he has to be here, so set aside the hatred and loathing for a while, okay?"
Ron, going slightly pink around the ears, huffed angrily and folded his arms across his chest. Draco was looking slightly smug when Hermione returned to her seat, and didn't bother to hide it when Dumbledore entered.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, smiling lightly and taking his seat behind the claw-footed desk. "I'm pleased to see you've come."
Draco inclined his head slightly, though his eyes were hollow and steady.
Dumbledore smiled.
"Mr. Weasley, please take a seat," he said, and Ron dutifully took one, carefully placing himself beside Hermione, who was at Dumbledore's right. He wanted to be as far away from Draco as possible, who sat at the farthest left.
"Now," said Dumbledore, clearing his throat, "on with the business at hand."
He gave a slight wave of the hand towards Harry, who took out a white envelope from his inner robe pocket and placed it on Dumbledore's desk. He turned to Draco expectantly, who only raised a brow in response.
"I'm afraid we're not able to open it," explained Dumbledore.
"So what makes you think I can?" asked Draco, not bothering to hold the derision in his tone back.
Ron and Harry shot him identical glares, but Dumbledore only smiled patiently.
"The charm will only allow you, apparently."
With an encouraging push from Dumbledore, the envelope sailed off his desk and unto Draco's lap. Draco looked at it with what seemed like the longest moment, before finally taking it in his hands and ripping it open. He let the shredded envelope fall to the ground, only paying attention to the letter in his hands.
With a stony expression, he flicked the letter back towards Dumbledore, who caught it with ease. Without even the slightest hesitation, Ron, Hermione, and Harry jumped off their seats and hovered over Dumbledore's shoulder as he began to read.
Dearest Draco,
We've taken your precious Gryffindor. If you wish to see her again, follow the map behind this letter. You need not worry about her safety — she is in good hands. We will not harm her, not if you follow your instructions obediently.
First, you will politely decline Snape's invitation to being his teacher's aid. Next, you will write your will — yes, a will — and a letter of farewell. Then, you'll need to go to the plotted point in the map. Do not Apparete. Go alone, and make sure no one sees you.
We will be expecting you.
With Love,
Blaise
At the bottom of the letter was a scarlet lip print, and a tiny sketch of a heart.
Dumbledore folded the letter calmly and turned to Draco, who was sitting with his arms over his chest and staring blankly at Fawkes.
"That b- " Ron began, but was stopped by Hermione's elbow before ever finishing. He was glowering now, with steam practically shooting from his red ears.
"Why Ginny?" Hermione wondered. When no one answered, she switched tactics. "What would they want with Draco?"
"And who's 'they'?" asked Harry, looking equally pensive. Ron was too busy shooting death glares at Draco to notice.
Dumbledore seemed to be highly amused in his own thoughts, and began to beat his fingers on his desk gently. He was looking at Draco thoughtfully, who still hadn't taken his eyes away from Fawkes.
"It seems we're in a bit of a predicament, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore loudly, breaking the trio's concentration.
Slowly, Draco turned to the old Headmaster.
"So it does."
Dumbledore smiled.
"How do you wish to go about this?"
Draco blinked, though not in a bemused sort of way.
"How do you mean?"
"This Blaise expects you, and only you," Dumbledore explained, his patience not dissolving.
"Are you suggesting I actually follow this b- " Hermione was too far away to elbow him, so they were all subject to hear Draco's colorful choice of words, " -itch's orders?"
Hermione was looking scandalous, though nothing tore the smile from Dumbledore's face. He looked highly amused.
"Yes, that is what I'm suggesting."
Draco snorted, and turned back to Fawkes.
"She's bluffing. I know her — she wouldn't harm Ginny."
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, heaving a heavy sigh, "but I'm afraid that Blaise is not who you should be worried about."
Draco didn't move, though his eye twitched in the slightest of ways — any other man other than Dumbledore wouldn't've noticed it.
"Forget him," said Ron suddenly. "He can bloody well rot here if he likes, but I'm going to get my sister."
"Lovely of you to say that, Mr. Weasley, for I think it best that you accompany him."
"What?" asked Harry, before anybody else to voice it out.
"You too, Harry."
Four sets of eyes bulged out, and Dumbledore's twinkled.
"You can't be serious — "
"There is no way I'm going with him — "
"Surely, you must be mistaken, Professor — "
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"I am very well into my mind, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, brushing an imaginary lint off of his purple robes. "Use your Invisibility Cloak Harry — it should be able to cover both you and Ron."
No one moved, only continuing to regard Dumbledore with the torn looks of shock and revulsion.
"I suggest to do so as soon as possible," said Dumbledore lightly. "It will take quite a while to travel to this plot without Apparating."
Hermione, finally being able to swallow her shock, asked weakly,
"Where is the place, Professor?"
At this, Dumbledore's eyes darkened, his face looking old and weary.
"The Riddle House."
---------------------
Once again, a special thanks to my wonderful reviewers!
Joya: Fear not, the leather pants are coming!
Robyn Maddison: I have no idea what you just said, but I can kind of make it out. I'm really glad you like this fic, and I hope it doesn't disappoint you. o_o;
Howler: I hope the update was soon enough. And thank you!
SamiJo: Thank you so very much!
Beth: Is this the same 'Beth' that's been reviewing before? o_Oa But anyways, I can't say. You'll just have to read and find out for yourself. ;D
August: Thank you! Ego-boosting reviews are always my favorite! lol.
Miss Malfoy: *gasp* No way! You did not just say my fic was the best of all Draco/whoever fics! O_O! If that's not an ego-boost, I don't know what is! *hugs*
Chapter Thirteen; flashbacks, virginity, magic mirrors, and the Riddle House.
Chapter Twelve: In Need of Assistance
Harry had only been to the Greasy Pub once, which was just a couple of months ago. Sirius brought him over on his 18th birthday to 'celebrate his manhood'. If Harry remembered correctly, he only had about three drinks before completely passing out. Needless to say, he was not in a hurry to return. But Ginny's life may be at stake, so he reluctantly entered.
It certainly looked like someplace Draco would go. Dim, dingy, and dreary — all key essentials of a makeshift Slytherin common room. One would wonder what would ever cause Draco to turn to a place like this, though quite frankly, he didn't care. He snaked his way through the vile customers that inhabited the Pub, and kept his keen, Seeker eyes open for any hint of silver hair.
"What would you like, darling?" simpered a waitress with heavy makeup. Promptly ignoring her, Harry moved towards the bar, where he found who he'd been looking for. Draco was slouching over the bar, with four or five shot glasses scattered around him. One arm was used to support his head, while the other was curled around an empty glass. Draco looked to be sound asleep, with a tiny trickle of drool escaping his mouth.
Harry rolled his eyes and shoved the boy's shoulder, a bit rougher than he really needed to. With a snort, Draco awoke, and glanced around the Pub with a dazed expression. He did a doubletake before his eyes finally rested on Harry, and within an instant, his usual smirk was plastered on his face.
"Didn't know you were a drinker, Potter," said Draco, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Harry shot him a cold look, and stuffed his hands in his pocket.
"Shove it, Malfoy, I'm not here for games."
Draco feigned disappointment.
"Aw, and here I was getting my hopes up and everything."
Harry's left eye twitched. He stiffened his back and quickly ignored Draco's comment. He was there for a purpose, and he wouldn't let Draco's wit provoke him.
"Shut up for a second and let me talk, okay?" he snapped, feeling his temper rise with every breath.
Draco's smirk grew, but he didn't say anything. Harry sighed, and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. He took a deep breath, wishing for the umpteenth time that someone else could do it for him.
"Any second now," sang Draco, and received another icy glare from Harry. Swallowing his pride, Harry spoke.
"I — well, what I mean to say is... that... You see, we — "
"You woke me up for this?"
"I need your help," Harry said quickly, and winced at Draco's look of surprise. His eyes widened to an unnatural size, and his mouth hung so loosely it was if his jaw was unhinged. Very slightly, the corners of his lips began to twitch, and suddenly he was doubling over in laughter. Harry's eye began to twitch more rapidly as Draco began to pound on the bar.
"S-Say that again!" Draco managed to say. "Y-You!" he choked, and clutched his sides. "My help!"
Harry tried very hard not to lose his temper. He really did. But before he could stop himself, he had Draco by the collar and dangerously close enough for him to see between his teeth. Draco's laughing immediately stopped.
"You know, this is not the best way to ask for help," Draco drawled, eyeing Harry's hand that gripped his shirt collar with a look that said "paws off or I'll behead you".
Harry snarled, then shoved Draco away. Draco, regaining his composure, began to dust his shirt off.
"And what makes you think I'll even consider helping you?" said Draco, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm not asking for me," Harry said stiffly.
Draco cocked his brow, looking semi-interested.
"I figured as much," he said. "You'd've rather died to Voldemort ten times over before coming to me."
For once, Harry actually agreed with him. Draco chuckled.
"So who're you asking for?"
Harry's mood took a turn for the grave, and his green eyes darkened. He looked as if somebody had died, and Draco felt strangley unnerved by it.
"It's Ginny."
She awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard that she felt it would burst. The images had left her mind at once. She could no longer remember just exactly what she had been dreaming about, but she knew it was horrible. The nightmare left her feeling extremely cold and covered in goosebumps.
She shivered at the forgotten memory and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, when she realized she couldn't. Her hands were behind her back and in the same situation as her feet — binded tightly together with rope.
Panic spread through her veins. It was all coming back to her — Draco, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and Rosa. The sudden thought of the age-decreasing woman brought along the horrid memory of being knocked out and dragged...
She had been kidnapped. Panicked, she struggled in her bindings, only making the ropes scrape against her skin and cut her.
She let out a whimper as blood trickled down her hands. Her eyes were welling up in desperate tears, and her breathing quickened. She had just enough sanity to look around her, and realized with a start that she was in a bedroom. A really old bedroom, judging from the state of the furniture, which were all buried under layers of dust. All except the bed, which she was currently sitting on. It bore new and freshly laundered sheets, as if it were made especially for her. That fact seemed to frighten her more, and she tossed around, hoping to at least loosen the ropes around her.
She failed miserably.
That was when Ginny saw it. A door, wide enough to fit both Charlie and Bill, and tall enough for Ron, was placed conveniently in front of the bed.
With a new sense of determination, she brought her knees to her chest, and began to wiggle her arms beneath her to bring them to her front. She managed to do so, though it left her with a sharp, throbbing pain in her left shoulder. But with her hands now in front of her, she was able to crawl off the bed and topple off.
She fell with a loud thud and shriek, creating a cloud of dust to swarm around her. As the dust began to disappear, she set out for the door. She was only a few feet away when the door swung open, surprising her and knocking her down on her bum.
She blinked up at the bright light pouring in, and only then realized just how dark the room had been. It took a while for her eyes to adjust, but when it did, she saw a person — a woman, judging from the outline — standing over her. The woman stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The room had gone pitch-black again, and Ginny wondered how she ever found her way around.
"Dear, dear," said the woman, her voice smooth and velvety, reminding Ginny oddly of Draco. Though the woman's tone had a higher amount of sarcasm than Draco usually did. The woman raised her hand, and Ginny was able to make out a rough outline of the item she held — a wand. With a flick of it, Ginny was sent flying back to the bed, inadvertently knocking her head on the headboard. Ginny would've sworn if the woman hadn't gagged her, which she did immediately after Ginny had landed.
"The floor is no place for a lady," the woman said sweetly, and though it was dark, Ginny was certain she was sneering.
Ginny followed the woman's dark silhouette move its way across the room, and began to light the candles around the bed. A strong fragrance, which Ginny knew as Jasmine from Herbology, soon filled her nostrils, stinging them slightly.
After having lit the twelfth and last candle, the woman stepped forward, and Ginny was allowed her first real look at her. She was most definitely a woman, Ginny thought, as her eyes took in the woman's curves. Like Ginny, her hair was red, looking almost scarlet. And the dim lighting the candles provided, Ginny was able to make out the bright blue of her eyes, though alongside the crimson of her mane, it looked near purple.
Ginny felt a slight tinge of jealousy within her, though she quickly squashed the feeling after remembering that this woman could very well be her kidnapper. Though in the corner of her mind, a voice spoke up, reminding her that the person who kidnapped her was not this woman, but Rosa.
Still, Ginny thought as she eyed the superior look the woman was giving her, she couldn't be trusted.
"Don't recognize me, do you?" the woman asked, her heavily shaded lips forming a grin.
Ginny felt her head shake in reply.
The woman's grin grew. "I wouldn't've expected you to. I was a year older than you in Hogwarts afterall."
Hogwarts, Ginny thought. She tried very hard to try and remember any other redhead in Hogwarts, but her mind was blank.
The woman made a noise through her nose, and shifted her weight to her other leg.
"Yes, a whole year," the woman continued, stating the fact as if it made the biggest difference in the world. "In Slytherin too, no doubt. But apparently, age and rank are mean nothing, seeing as how you know Draco."
The sudden mentioning of Draco's name did exactly what the woman had wanted, and caused a panicked reaction from Ginny. She squealed and shouted through the thick scarf used to gag her, but the woman feigned ignorance and began to examine her nails.
"I thought it to be very weird indeed," the woman continued, as if Ginny had never interrupted her, "that a person like you would even be associated with Draco."
She stopped looking at her perfectly manicured nails just in time to see Ginny glare at her. She smiled.
"You can just imagine my surprise to see him actually save you from dear Franco," the woman went on, and Ginny was given the honor of being reminded of the dirty scum that tried to feel her when she was in Knockturn Alley.
"It was thoroughly disgusting to see him display such nobility," said the woman, making a face that, for just a split second, made her look less than perfect. "I wanted very much to crush him right then and there."
She paused, and regarded Ginny for a moment before continuing.
"But I knew I couldn't," she explained, looking very disappointed. "We needed him."
A slightly dreamy expression clouded her eyes. She heaved a sigh and turned back to Ginny, and for a moment, she looked almost sympathetic.
But only for a moment.
"Enough about that," she said, a devilish grin plastered across her face. "Now it's time for some fun."
Ginny, having not fully digested what the woman had just told her, could only imagine what the woman's definition for 'fun' would be.
"Why is he here?"
Draco gave Ron a withering look.
"If you'd rather I leave then..."
"Malfoy — stuff it," said Hermione, always the peacemaker, and turned to her roommate. "You need to calm down. You know he has to be here, so set aside the hatred and loathing for a while, okay?"
Ron, going slightly pink around the ears, huffed angrily and folded his arms across his chest. Draco was looking slightly smug when Hermione returned to her seat, and didn't bother to hide it when Dumbledore entered.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, smiling lightly and taking his seat behind the claw-footed desk. "I'm pleased to see you've come."
Draco inclined his head slightly, though his eyes were hollow and steady.
Dumbledore smiled.
"Mr. Weasley, please take a seat," he said, and Ron dutifully took one, carefully placing himself beside Hermione, who was at Dumbledore's right. He wanted to be as far away from Draco as possible, who sat at the farthest left.
"Now," said Dumbledore, clearing his throat, "on with the business at hand."
He gave a slight wave of the hand towards Harry, who took out a white envelope from his inner robe pocket and placed it on Dumbledore's desk. He turned to Draco expectantly, who only raised a brow in response.
"I'm afraid we're not able to open it," explained Dumbledore.
"So what makes you think I can?" asked Draco, not bothering to hold the derision in his tone back.
Ron and Harry shot him identical glares, but Dumbledore only smiled patiently.
"The charm will only allow you, apparently."
With an encouraging push from Dumbledore, the envelope sailed off his desk and unto Draco's lap. Draco looked at it with what seemed like the longest moment, before finally taking it in his hands and ripping it open. He let the shredded envelope fall to the ground, only paying attention to the letter in his hands.
With a stony expression, he flicked the letter back towards Dumbledore, who caught it with ease. Without even the slightest hesitation, Ron, Hermione, and Harry jumped off their seats and hovered over Dumbledore's shoulder as he began to read.
Dearest Draco,
We've taken your precious Gryffindor. If you wish to see her again, follow the map behind this letter. You need not worry about her safety — she is in good hands. We will not harm her, not if you follow your instructions obediently.
First, you will politely decline Snape's invitation to being his teacher's aid. Next, you will write your will — yes, a will — and a letter of farewell. Then, you'll need to go to the plotted point in the map. Do not Apparete. Go alone, and make sure no one sees you.
We will be expecting you.
With Love,
Blaise
At the bottom of the letter was a scarlet lip print, and a tiny sketch of a heart.
Dumbledore folded the letter calmly and turned to Draco, who was sitting with his arms over his chest and staring blankly at Fawkes.
"That b- " Ron began, but was stopped by Hermione's elbow before ever finishing. He was glowering now, with steam practically shooting from his red ears.
"Why Ginny?" Hermione wondered. When no one answered, she switched tactics. "What would they want with Draco?"
"And who's 'they'?" asked Harry, looking equally pensive. Ron was too busy shooting death glares at Draco to notice.
Dumbledore seemed to be highly amused in his own thoughts, and began to beat his fingers on his desk gently. He was looking at Draco thoughtfully, who still hadn't taken his eyes away from Fawkes.
"It seems we're in a bit of a predicament, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore loudly, breaking the trio's concentration.
Slowly, Draco turned to the old Headmaster.
"So it does."
Dumbledore smiled.
"How do you wish to go about this?"
Draco blinked, though not in a bemused sort of way.
"How do you mean?"
"This Blaise expects you, and only you," Dumbledore explained, his patience not dissolving.
"Are you suggesting I actually follow this b- " Hermione was too far away to elbow him, so they were all subject to hear Draco's colorful choice of words, " -itch's orders?"
Hermione was looking scandalous, though nothing tore the smile from Dumbledore's face. He looked highly amused.
"Yes, that is what I'm suggesting."
Draco snorted, and turned back to Fawkes.
"She's bluffing. I know her — she wouldn't harm Ginny."
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, heaving a heavy sigh, "but I'm afraid that Blaise is not who you should be worried about."
Draco didn't move, though his eye twitched in the slightest of ways — any other man other than Dumbledore wouldn't've noticed it.
"Forget him," said Ron suddenly. "He can bloody well rot here if he likes, but I'm going to get my sister."
"Lovely of you to say that, Mr. Weasley, for I think it best that you accompany him."
"What?" asked Harry, before anybody else to voice it out.
"You too, Harry."
Four sets of eyes bulged out, and Dumbledore's twinkled.
"You can't be serious — "
"There is no way I'm going with him — "
"Surely, you must be mistaken, Professor — "
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"I am very well into my mind, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, brushing an imaginary lint off of his purple robes. "Use your Invisibility Cloak Harry — it should be able to cover both you and Ron."
No one moved, only continuing to regard Dumbledore with the torn looks of shock and revulsion.
"I suggest to do so as soon as possible," said Dumbledore lightly. "It will take quite a while to travel to this plot without Apparating."
Hermione, finally being able to swallow her shock, asked weakly,
"Where is the place, Professor?"
At this, Dumbledore's eyes darkened, his face looking old and weary.
"The Riddle House."
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Once again, a special thanks to my wonderful reviewers!
Joya: Fear not, the leather pants are coming!
Robyn Maddison: I have no idea what you just said, but I can kind of make it out. I'm really glad you like this fic, and I hope it doesn't disappoint you. o_o;
Howler: I hope the update was soon enough. And thank you!
SamiJo: Thank you so very much!
Beth: Is this the same 'Beth' that's been reviewing before? o_Oa But anyways, I can't say. You'll just have to read and find out for yourself. ;D
August: Thank you! Ego-boosting reviews are always my favorite! lol.
Miss Malfoy: *gasp* No way! You did not just say my fic was the best of all Draco/whoever fics! O_O! If that's not an ego-boost, I don't know what is! *hugs*
Chapter Thirteen; flashbacks, virginity, magic mirrors, and the Riddle House.