Disclaimer: "Ik bezit geen Harry Potter" - Dutch
"Je ne possède pas le potier de Harry Potter" - French
"Ich besitze nicht Harry Potter" - German
"Non possiedo il vasaio del Harry Potter" - Italian
"Ego scribo Harry Potter nusquam" – Latin
Just five ways to say I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: I'm horribly sorry if I butchered anyone's language in my disclaimer. I can't speak any of those languages; I used Babel Fish translators. Thank you once more for all the great reviews. I don't really have much to say except for the fact that in my "Calender of Unfortunate Events," you know, like the books, today's quote is: "On a hot day, swimming in a cool pond is a pleasant activity, but even on the coldest of days, boiling in a soup pot is not, particularly if the soup is hot and creamy." Just thought I'd share.
Chapter 11: Secret House"What I don't understand," Harry said, "is how he left. You can't apparate out of Hogwarts."
"Mmhmm," Draco didn't really feel like a conversation at the moment, he just wanted to figure out a plan of action. One was slowly formulating.
"I mean," Harry continued on his rampage, "he could have used a portkey, but the only things he was holding were his wand and Hermione..." Harry turned suddenly, "you can't use a human for a portkey, can you?"
"No," Draco answered shortly.
Harry paced back and forth furiously in the Malfoy dormitory as Draco sat at the table, reading the three words that Lucius had scribbled before his departure.
IN THE SECRET"He's filth," Draco spat, dropping the note to the ground and sitting on the couch, holding his chin in thought.
Harry went to the table and picked up the discarded piece of parchment, reading it in a moment.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, shoving the parchment in Draco's face, "In the secret?"
"He's talking about Secret House. It's a D.E. hideout."
"D.E.?"
Draco didn't answer, giving Harry a second for it to process.
"You mean Death Eater?" Harry asked, voice changing an octave. Draco grinned slightly. "Hermione's been taken to a Death Eater hideout?!"
Draco nodded curtly, sending Harry into a state of hyperventilation. Harry managed to find a center of self-control before demanding viciously, "Take me to her!"
Draco just sighed and turned away, hand returning to his chin. He eventually turned back to Harry who held him at wand-point.
"Okay, hero," Draco said, turning Harry's wand from his face with his index finger, "before you go getting your grundies in a bundle why don't you try asking me nicely."
Harry's nostrils flared ever so slightly.
"Draco..."
"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked pleasantly.
"Would you kindly take me to Hermione?"
"Hermione? And who would she be?"
He gritted his teeth and answered slowly, "My best friend and the girl that's been living in your room for God knows how long."
"Oh yes, and where is she?"
Harry's eye was now twitching uncontrollably, "In the Secret House."
"And what is the Secret House?" Draco tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrows at Harry.
"A Death Eater hideout."
"That's right," Draco looked intently at Harry and settled back into the couch, "and because it is a Death Eater hideout named the Secret House, not the Let's Tell Everyone We Know House, I have been uninformed as to the location of this particular domicile, along with the majority of the natural world, and because I do not know the location to the stead your beloved lass has been fetched to I would not cognize where to direct you which furthermore means that, to answer your original question, no, I will not kindly take you to Hermione." He sat back and smiled up at Harry, who was growing steadily more puce by the second.
Finally, Harry simply exhaled and slumped beside Draco, head in hands. After a moment, Draco detected a small sniffle from his companion. He at first minorly scooted away, but could not excuse or ignore the gentle sobs that were eventually coming from Harry's hands.
"There, there," Draco patted Harry's shoulder softly, not entirely comfortable with the situation. "Don't worry," he tried to think of comforting things to say- hmm, that's a toughie, "we'll find Hermione."
Harry looked up at him with wide saucer-like eyes, "Really? You think so?"
Draco smiled and nodded his head. "Sure," he further heartened, "sure, we will."
Harry cleared the tears from his face and stood, a determined look on his face, "Well," he said ardently, "Where do we start looking?"
Draco screwed up his eyebrows for a moment. Yes, he had intended to figure out where his father had taken Hermione, but he had certainly not intended to do it with this loopy tart following him around everywhere. He was about to tell Harry straight out that he had no purpose in bringing him along to save Hermione, but with the resolutely hopeful expression pinned on the boy's face, he found that he could hardly put up so much of an argument let alone destroy the poor kid's hopes and dreams like that.
"I don't know," Draco said, standing, "I guess we can go to my house and snoop around my dad's files. Not that he would leave anything D.E. related lying around the house, but..."
"It's worth a try," Harry finished the sentence for him. Draco didn't like how chummy that sounded.
"Right," he nodded briefly and went back to the piece of parchment.
"We still don't know how Lucius left, do we?" Harry said, "We've agreed it couldn't have been apparating or a portkey... but we saw him vanish right before our eyes. I don't know how he did it."
"I do," Draco said off-handedly.
"You do?" Harry asked, a tad put out at the sureness in his voice.
"Sure, it was the Finis charm."
"What's the Finis charm?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Draco smiled and Harry gave him one frustrated expression to let him know it was not remotely the time for playing around. "Fine," Draco obliged, "the Finis charm is a charm that directs one to the boundaries of a location. If, for example, you're in the middle of some maze or something where you can't get out, you can use this to transport yourself to the boundaries and then just walk out. It's got nothing on apparating but it comes in handy in non-apparating zones or in the case that you're stuck somewhere and you just want to get out, you don't care where you go."
"How do you know that?" Harry asked, getting slightly sidetracked, "And why don't they teach it in school?"
"The answer to that is because it is considered Dark Magic and the reason I know it is because of my father and the books he keeps in his library."
"It doesn't sound dark at all."
"No, well, I guess the charm itself isn't, but the creator of it was one of the great Dark Wizards before Voldemort's time- Lilith Morrisa, I think her name was."
"Hmm," he sighed and went to Draco, "I assume you know how to perform this Finis charm?"
"Yeah, I'm not great, but I can do it," he said, shrugging off his robes, leaving him much more comfortable in common clothing.
"Okay," Harry said, taking his bag and grabbing Draco's shoulder, "Finis us out of here."
Draco sighed and complied, saying, "Fines Finium," with the slightest tap of his wand, sending them to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione's hands and feet had been chained, her hair chopped, and her body wracked with what seemed like endless crucio curses. And now, she had been left alone. She reached her body forward, plunging her head up and heaved a labored breath, deep and raspy. Her lungs felt inflamed, as if someone had torn them to shreds, but left them as her only instrument for oxygen. She inhaled again, each breath an arduous chore.
In all her dreams, she could never have imagined the pain of the cruciatus or the fact that Lucius Malfoy would leave her alive afterwards. The pain that she had miraculously endured did very little to discourage the joy in finding herself alive after her encounter with the elder Malfoy. She held on to the fact that if she could only remain alive through her torture sessions then she would be okay. Life was what she held on to, because as long as she was alive, she could again see her mother, father, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and, at the base of her mind and heart, Draco, as long they were alive to see her.
Harry and Draco stood very still upon reaching the Forbidden Forest, as if by taking a step they would undo the progress they had already made.
"We did it," Harry whispered, "we made it to the Hogwarts boundaries."
Draco exhaled in relief; grateful only that he hadn't marred the difficult spell and landed them somewhere very unpleasant.
"Yes," he answered back, "we did it."
They looked at each other and, simultaneous step by simultaneous step, they made their way further into the deep recesses of the forest. As it became more and more shaded above them and only a faint sliver of sunlight could be seen every few steps, they began to question when it was safe to apparate. As neither was very experienced, they worried about their accuracy.
"Well," Draco finally said, continuing to walk, "I suppose we can apparate now."
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding and catching up to Draco's taller stride, "we don't want to waste any time."
As Draco was the only one who had seen Malfoy Manor before, he was in charge of the apparation. He took hold of Harry's shirt collar very suddenly and transported them in a haze to the front steps of Malfoy Manor, an incredibly loud crash announcing their arrival.
Draco cursed under his breath as he heard one of the many servants come running to see what had caused the disturbance. Harry ducked into the bushes and pulled him down beside him by his back pocket just as the maid came into view. Seeing that nothing was the matter, she shook her head in frustration and turned, disappearing behind the corner.
Harry removed the strap of his bag from his shoulder and removed the Invisibility Cloak.
"Let's use this from now on, shall we?" Harry said, draping it over the pair of them.
"How'd you get that?"
"It was just laying on your bed. Besides, mine went missing a few days ago, so I put two and two together."
Draco nodded and tried to stand up, his legs revealing themselves because of Harry's pull downwards. He was pulled down again.
"You can't just get up, we have to move together."
Draco growled in irritation and squatted, helping Harry up and guiding them through the entrance to the manor. They walked through the large hall, the dining room, up the back staircase to where the bedrooms were and then another staircase through the master bedroom closet that led to a fairly large study with bookshelves all around and an ornate rug adorning the dark wood floors. Four dark brown leather sofas and chairs sat in a square with an ebony coffee table between them with several different newspapers, magazines, and letters atop it. In the corner stood a desk, behind which was a magnificent portrait of the Malfoy family that must have been taken at least a year before judging by the length of Draco's hair.
Draco pulled the cloak from over their heads and locked the study door, enclosing them in this majestic corridor.
"Here," Draco said, handing him the Invisibility Cloak, "you look around the table and I'll check the desk. I know where everything is."
"I imagine you enjoyed this room when you were little, lots of things to look at," Harry said, subconsciously studying the architecture above the doorframe.
"No, my father never took me in here. I don't imagine my mother knows about it. Doesn't mean I didn't snoop though," he tugged his eyebrows up at Harry mischievously before crossing to the desk and opening one of its many drawers.
Harry started poring over the documents lain on the coffee table. He came across three publications of the Daily Prophet, each one nearly four months apart and several letters in muggle envelopes from a variety of Malfoy relations. One read: "The company of Specialus Domus left me intoxicated, and the return to my wife left me in a state of sheer boredom. I find that excusable means for murder, but for somereason the authorities..." However interesting the epistles between Lucius Malfoy's infamous correspondents were, he could not distract himself from the task at hand. He continued to look through the magazines and read several articles of newspapers and the like in the hopes of finding some sort of clue. At the bottom sat a small green folded paper with a large G on the front. Harry lifted it and unfolded it carefully until it created a large round piece of paper that looked like a faded map. He set it down on the table and it bounced to life, creating an orb that floated and spun slowly above the table.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked as he watched the hovering sphere, mesmerized.
Draco turned to look and gasped at what Harry had found. He went to meet Harry by the globe and said, "That, Harry, is a Malfoy globe."
"What does it do?" Harry asked, tilting his head slowly and squinting his eyes every so slightly.
"It locates any place in the wizarding realm."
"Then locate Secret House for goodness sake!" he stepped back and looked at Draco, appalled that he had not had the sense to do it before.
"It doesn't locate any place with a clandestine charm on it without a password to the place. I tried Secret House when I first found about it."
"Well, try it again," Harry whined shrilly.
With a sigh, Draco complied, pointing his wand to the tip of the globe and said clearly, "Secret House."
The globe turned a sickly gray color and blared an irritatingly piercing sound. Draco looked toward Harry smugly.
"Well," Harry said quietly, "maybe that's what it's supposed to do."
Draco lifted his wand and touched the tip of the globe once more and said clearly, "Ministry of Magic."
The globe purred a pleasant lull and spun until London was facing them and it zoomed in to reveal a picture of busy witches and wizards going in and out of their offices.
"Fine," Harry said and returned to the magazines on the coffee table while Draco walked back to the desk.
Draco had been finding very little, until he came upon a certain manila envelope containing a pile of photographs, all moving and speaking at once. One held an amiable looking Lucius in front of a whitewashed villa with burgundy bougainvillea, his arm draped across two younger men's shoulders. The men had the same platinum blonde hair and strong chin as Lucius Malfoy, though one's hair was cropped to his chin and fell in strong curls; the other's was slicked into a short Mohawk on the top of his head. Draco smiled at his uncles and turned back to the envelope, taking out one after another photograph.
"Who're they?" Harry asked, pointing to a picture of the two uncles and a few barely dressed, dark-haired women dancing exotically before them.
"When'd you get here?" he asked, clutching the pictures to his chest.
"I snuck up on you as you were checking out the photo."
"Oh," Draco pulled the pictures out once again and looked at it fondly, "These are two of my uncles. Silvio's the one with the curly hair, and the other one's Xanto," he chuckled softly, "he's kind of funky."
Harry pulled a few of the pictures from him, "Where are they?"
"I don't know. One of my father's many leisure trips." Draco laid the pile on their fronts and looked up at the mantle of the fireplace, a giant clock above it. The time struck 4:30 pm. He was beginning to get worried. It shouldn't be taking this long. He could feel Harry's gaze behind his shoulder and became extremely uncomfortable.
Slowly, he moved out from behind the desk and moved to the coffee table, picking up different magazines and letters.
"So," he said to Harry, who was shuffling through the pictures on the desk, "you didn't find anything here?"
"Nope," he said, studying one particular picture closely, turning it slowly upside down and smiling humorously.
Draco nodded and returned to the letters, removing the letter Harry had previously been so enthralled by. It was from his Uncle Xanto. Hmm Draco thought to himself, I didn't know Aunt Lisa died. Suddenly, something struck him about the letter, something he couldn't quite get a hold of. At close to the same moment, Harry dropped all but one photo to the ground, holding one specific one in front of his eyes, trying to gather where he had before seen the information he now read.
Their eyes lit up at the same time and they went to each other, holding their items out to each other. Harry held the photo of Lucius with this arm over his younger brothers. They exchanged effects twice before looking up at each other, eyes wide. On the page read the words- "Specialus Domus." On the back of the photo read the single word- "Specialus."
It seemed such an obvious clue, but neither of them knew what to think of it. They panicked slightly, looking to their documents then back at each other until finally a thought occurred to Draco. He threw the letter into Harry's hands and ran to one of the bookshelves, pulling one down that was as dusty as it was thick. He couldn't hold his hands around it.
He sat on the couch, frantically flipping pages back and forth until he settled on one specific page near the back of the book, scribbling something on a nearby newspaper before returning to the book. Once again, pages flipped until landing upon another page, nearer the front. He again wrote furiously onto the newspaper before setting the book down carefully beside him, turning to the newspaper.
Harry stood anxiously beside until Draco sat still, staring ahead at what was before him.
"What did you find?" Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
Draco held the book up for Harry to see the title. "An English-Latin directory." He placed the book reverently in the center, "Comes in handy more often than you would think."
"What does it have to do with Hermione?"
Draco took the piece of paper that he had been holding a moment before and read out loud, "Specialus Domus- Secret House."
End Note: Dum dum dum!!! Spooky, no? Tomorrow's quote from my calendar is "'Surely 'tis better, when summer is over to die when all fair things are fading away.' –Thomas Haynes Bayly, a poet who, sadly, heeded his own words and died in 1859."