THE SEERS' TRUTH:  BEYOND THE DARKNESS

By Lady Lestrange

Chapter 7

Improbable Intentions

15 Reviews:  I really hate blackmailing you into reviewing, but hey, I'm a Slytherin.  It's in my nature, so when there are 15 reviews, for this chapter, the next one will magically appear.  Love my readers and reviewers.  Answers to the reviews follow the story.

Disclaimer:  The Harry Potter characters and previous situations belong to JK Rowlings.  No infringement is meant or implied.  No money is made from this fanfic.  Thanks JK.

Thank you to Silverfox for Draco's interest in the diadem.  Winner of the "What would Draco want" contest on: 

Read Silverfox's fics.  They are excellent.  Later.  After you've read and reviewed mine.  LL

Thank you to my faithful and hardworking beta, ennui deMorte

+++

"You think we should meet Malfoy! Are you crazy, Hermione!" shouted Ron.

"I think she has a point," said Harry.  "After all Sirius said—"

"You!  You stay out of this," said Ron.  Pointing at Harry's wrist where Shesha was contentedly flickering her tongue.  "I only think Hermione's crazy.  You!  I know you're  crazy.  Absolutely bonkers!  Coming back with that thing on your wrist."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?  Let it die?"

"Yes!"  Shouted Ron.  "One less basilisk is a good thing, Harry."

"We weren't talking about basilisks," interrupted Hermione.  We were talking about Malfoy."

"One snake's the same as the other," said Ron, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"Well technically," said Harry.  "It's not—"  but he stopped at the look Ron gave him.

"Calm down," said Hermione.  "We need to think of this logically."

"You think meeting with Malfoy is logical?" asked Ron.

Shesha stirred uncomfortable with the high emotions in the room, and Harry hissed an explanation.  "{No sheis, just excitement and tension.  We hope to find your bitemates.}"

"Will you quit that!" spat Ron, glaring at the hissing Harry.

"She just wondered what was going on.  I was filling her in," said Harry.

"It's going to take us a while to get used to you talking to it in paseltongue," said Hermione.  "I mean, we're your friends, but still—" 

She dwindled off blushing and Harry remembered all the rumors that flew about the school in second year when half of the student body thought he was the heir of Slytherin.  Ron and Hermione had stuck by him, but it was a struggle.  He hoped that they had become more open minded, but somehow he wasn't sure they had. Both Ron and Hermione had been appalled when he showed them the basilisk, and told them what had happened in the Chamber. 

Hermione started to warm up to the idea of Harry imprinting the basilisk when he told her that if he didn't, Voldemort surely would do it later, but Ron was still adamantly against Harry keeping it.  The only thing that kept Ron from trying to kill it now, was Harry's friendship with him, and Harry wasn't sure that bond would actually keep Ron from harming it.  The way Ron looked at it, this little basilisk was personally responsible for his sister's woes.  Harry was afraid most Gryffindors would feel exactly the same way.

"So tell me again why we should take Malfoy at his word," said Ron, somewhat calmed by Hermione's presence next to him.

"Well, first of all," said Harry.  "It's what Sirius told us.  Even the Order has no idea where the Snow Castle is.  They have to rely on someone on the inside.  They are afraid to use Snape and blow his cover, so they are at a standstill until they find someone else.  This can put us ahead of them."

"Well, it's not like they are going to find someone just standing on the street corner, are they?" said Ron.

"Exactly," Hermione interrupted.  "It's going to take them some time to get in.  Meanwhile, we had a head start.  We have Malfoy offering his help."

"Help," snorted Ron.  "I'll trust him when hell freezes over."

Harry, thinking of the Snow Castle, said, "It may have just done that.  And the problem is our friends and your sister are in there.  We don't have forever to think about this.  We have to take help where it's offered."

"I'll never trust Malfoy," said Ron.

"Agreed," said Harry, "But Ron."  He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.  "If Ginny does have a Dark Mark, we need to find her first.  Before the Aurors do." 

Everything implied in that sentence reflected on Ron's face.  No one needed to say, if the Aurors got there first they would have no compunction about killing Death Eaters, or at least hexing them with some pretty severe hexes. 

Harry squeezed Ron's shoulder gently.  "We'll find her—all three of them," said Harry.

"This is impossible," Ron muttered.

"No.  Not impossible," said Harry.  "Risky.  There's a difference. We can do this."

"Well, let's go, then," said Ron, steeling himself for the meeting with Malfoy.

"Oh Harry," cried Hermione. "How are we going to get to Borgin and Burkes?  We don't have a portkey, and we can't use magic."

"Your parents have a car," said Ron.

"But I can't drive it," said Hermione.  "I'm only fifteen."

They stood in silent contemplation for several minutes until Hermione said, "I guess there's no help for it.  We'll have to bring Samara's brothers.  Well, at least one of them—the one that can drive."

"What!" spat Harry.  "I am not taking Muggles to Knockturn Alley.  If—no—when one of them gets killed I'd never forgive myself."

"We'll leave them in Diagon Alley," said Hermione.  "Or maybe in Muggle London.  We'll tell them that we can't take them with us. Muggles can't even see where we're going. They have to understand."

"And even if they don't," said Ron.  "How hard can it be to give them the slip?"

"Ron.  We have to get back too," noted Hermione, as she turned over Harry's portkey in her hand.  "I think they'll be glad to be involved at all.  It won't be that hard to make them understand they can't come into the Leaky Cauldron.    They can't even see it." She glanced at her watch.  "And we have to be back before six, when my parents get home from work," she said.

++

Ginny was surprised that she awoke feeling rested and refreshed.  "I didn't expect to sleep so well considering last night's conversation and the fact that I wasn't in my own bed."

"Well, Ginny Love, it is a dorm room bed, probably not that much different from what you are used to, but the fact that last night's conversation can be so easily dismissed concerns me."

"I know," said Ginny softly.  "I think we should go see Professor Snape this morning."

"An excellent idea."

"I need some things from Gryffindor Tower anyway," said Ginny slipping into her wrinkled robe from the day before, and dragging her fingers through her shoulder length hair.  I could Accio a brush from my room, she thought.

"Let's see Snape first," suggested Tom, "I wish you'd let me talk to him—"

"No," said Ginny as she pulled her hair into an untidy pony tail.  After doing a hasty glamour to  improve her disheveled appearance, she  proceeded to Snape's office.

Before she even knocked on the door, the dog began barking furiously.  "Quiet!" snapped Snape. The barking continued.  There was a muttered curse and the sound of papers sliding to the floor amid the barking, and then Snape's voice again.  "Mutus!  Somnus! Wretched beast," muttered Snape into the silence.

Snape opened the door to his office and Ginny stood on the doorstep peering in.  The dog was once again asleep in the corner.  Ginny suppressed a laugh.

Snape scowled at her.  "What do you want?" he asked shortly. 

"I don't have anything to do—"

"Well I do," he said testily.

"I meant, I left all my clothes and books in Gryffindor Tower.  I didn't want to go and get them without your permission."

"Quite right," said Snape.

"So may I go and get my things?"

"Yes," answered Snape, but Ginny stood on the threshold uncertainly.

"I feel like a prisoner," she whispered.

"Hardly," said Snape.

"Some of the things you told me last night—"

"Come in, Miss Weasley," Snape said opening the door and with a wave of his hand, clearing the papers which had fallen off of his immaculately neat desk.  "What is on your mind?"

"Everything—" she breathed.

"I am not good at this sort of thing," he admitted looking at the door.  "If the Headmaster were back, I'm sure he would know what to tell you."

"Just tell me the truth," Ginny said.

"To whom am I speaking?" Snape asked bluntly.  "Virginia Weasley or Tom Riddle?"

Ginny froze, thinking she hadn't told Snape that. 

"He's just guessing," surmised Tom.

"Oh yes, Tom, that's the first thing that pops into my mind when someone is acting weird, they must be possessed."

"You are not possessed," said Tom coldly, "and you know it.  Just tell him it's only you, Ginny," said Tom.  "If he thinks I can do any magic, he won't tell you anything   He won't believe I'm on your side and not Salazar's."

"Virginia Weasley," said Ginny softly.  "Tom is—as you said, only a memory."

"And change the subject," suggested Tom. "Ask about Salazar."

"You knew about Salazar. You said it was Salazar that should have died," said Ginny, but it worried her that Snape guessed or figured out from Legilimency that Tom was still in some way, present with her, either that or he just thought she was crazy.

"Ginny Love, we know you don't have all your marbles.  Good thing I'm willing to share—"

"You're willing to share!" thought Ginny.

Snape blew out his breath.  "I have known that Voldemort is the combination of Tom Riddle and Salazar Slytherin since I was eleven years old.  I would imagine you know this fact more intimately than I."

"I imagine," said Ginny.

The silence stretched before them, neither moving or speaking, Ginny barely breathed. 

"Ask him if the Order had perfected the transfer of power spell," said Tom.  "Did they finish the potion?" And Ginny did ask. 

"Yes," said Snape.

"What was in it?" Tom wondered.

"What was in it?" Ginny asked.

Snape looked at her curiously.  "This conversation is over," he said curtly.  "You may get your things from Gryffindor Tower."

"Tom," wondered Ginny. "What did that accomplish? It just shut him down."

"I know this spell," said Tom. "Salazar was working on it for a long time in association with the Dark Mark.  If he could tap the power of his wizards he would be invincible."   

"Good day, Miss Weasley," Snape said coldly.

"You just destroyed any trust I had with him," Ginny seethed as she walked out into the corridor.

"Trust makes you vulnerable," said Tom.

"Damn you!"

"Probably," Tom agreed.

"Do you know about this potion?" Ginny asked.

"Somewhat."

"So are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to pry it out of you drop by drop?"

"The memories are there," said Tom ruefully.  "It's not like I'm keeping secrets.  You just don't like those memories, Ginny Love."

Ginny didn't go to Gryffindor Tower.  Instead she went to the kitchen and got some food for her basilisk.  Then she went back to the room to dig through her and Tom's memories. 

This transfer has long been able to be accomplished permanently, but only through sacrifice, one of the individuals had to die—like Rookwood transferring his power to Voldemort, thought Ginny with a shiver of disgust. 

"Like my mother transferring her power to me," said Tom, "and Slytherins sapping the power of their Squibs for generations." 

Ginny felt sick. "What would the Order of Phoenix have to do with this?" she wondered. "This looks like Dark Magic to me."

"Definitely on the edge," agreed Tom. "But they wanted to find a way to tap the power latent in Harry Potter."

"What power?" asked Ginny.

"Well, that's the question of the hour, isn't it?" agreed Tom, "but it wouldn't just take a potion, as Snape told you.  It would take an intricate charm that few witches or wizards could accomplish and awful lot of blood from a baby."

"How much blood?" asked Ginny. 

"All of it," said Tom.  "Since the Aurors didn't want to kill little Harry, I presume they did the potion over a series of months."

"Months," thought Ginny, "when Lily were both under strict guards.  Months when she could not be with her baby."

"And the prophecy?" wondered Ginny.

Tom guffawed.  "The prophecy was made years earlier by a twelve-year-old untried child.  No one knew about the prophecy at that time.  It was only after the fact that the prophecy was discovered to be true, and we're not even sure that the potion and spell would have worked. 

"—would still work," said Tom

++

Hermione was wrong about Samara's brothers.  They were quite determined to come with the trio all the way to Knockturn Alley.  Harry found them rather annoying, although, Harry had to admit, they were the first people that didn't freak out when they saw his basilisk.  Of course, they just thought it was a small snake.

The ride to London was virtually uneventful, the Muggles at first, coaxing for proof of the trios' magic.  The requests finally calmed to superior smirks that said of course they couldn't do magic. 

"There's no such thing as magic," muttered Garrett.

 Ron found it extremely irritating, but Hermione managed to keep him from punching one of the boys.

"Hey, Garrett," asked Simon, "Can you drive. Give me a break?"

"No. Dad said no car, remember?"

"Dad isn't here Garrett."

Garrett raised an eyebrow.

"Dad isn't going to find out," insisted Simon.

"Dad always finds out.  I'll walk through the door and it will be written across my forehead in big flashing neon lights.  Garrett-drove-the-car."

Simon laughed. "Ok, you're right."

"You thought Dad was mad the first time.  Directly disobeying punishment.  Do you want me dead?"

"Ok. Ok. You're right.  I'll drive, but I need a break.  Let's get a coke or something."

"I'm hungry.  It's past lunchtime," observed Garrett.

 They pulled into a small shop that offered fast food and drinks.

"Do you have any money?" whispered Hermione.

"No," said Ron.

"Not Muggle money," said Harry.

Hermione dug through the coat pockets searching for loose change.  She had three Sicles and a Knut. "Why didn't I think of this?" she complained to herself.  "I guess I've been at school too long."   They sat at a table, while the Muggles ordered.  When they came back to the table with sandwiches and fries and drinks, the Muggles looked at the trio.

"Aren't you hungry?" Garrett asked.

"Not really," said Hermione, fiddling with the buttons of her coat.

Ron shook his head although his growling stomach belayed the fact.

"We only have wizard money," said Harry.

"That is the lamest excuse I have ever heard," snapped Garrett, shoving fries and a coke toward the threesome.

Simon shrugged and went headed back to the counter.  "Burgers alright?" he called back.

"Um.  Salad?" said Hermione questioningly.

Garrett was still sulking when Simon came back to the table.  "Don't worry about it, little brother," said Simon.  "You start to expect this sort of thing when you get a job. Everyone mooches off of you."

"We are not—" said Harry, insulted.  He reached into his pocket and dragged out an assortment of wizarding money including two gold Galleons and slapped them on the table.

"Harry!" admonished Hermione with a harsh whisper.  "They are Muggles—"

"Is that real gold?" asked Garrett amazed.

"Yeah," snapped Harry.  "We'll pay you back."

"Great," said Simon. "And some petrol too.  The car doesn't run on magic, you know."

Garrett sniggered.

The group continued the trip into London, the traffic increasing as they got closer to city center, and all of them got quiet to let Simon concentrate on his driving.  "Do we have to go all the way into the city center?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so," muttered Ron.  "I think it's near here.  The number of times I've come with my older brothers, I should remember."

"You never came by car," Harry pointed out.

"There!  There!" called Hermione.  "I knew I would remember where it was.  Park by that bookshop," she ordered.  They parked the car at one of the metered curbs and walked the rest of the way to The Leaky Caldron.  The wind was bitter cold, and they all pulled their coat collars up around their faces.  At least it wasn't raining, thought Harry. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione, thought that they would leave the two brothers at the café down the street from the Leaky Cauldron and proceed to Knockturn, but the boys protested.  At last, they did exactly what Hermione had hoped they wouldn't have to do.  They darted into the Leaky Caldron expecting to leave the boys outside, but they followed them right in.

"You can see the Leaky Caldron?"  asked Harry amazed.

"Leaky? Demolished, seems more like it," said Garrett looking around, and wondering what held up the ceiling.

"Magic," said Harry, and Garrett turned around, staring at the ceiling in amazement.  "Oh hello," he greeted Tom, the proprietor, as a couple more wizards entered with swirling robes.

"Must be because they're Squibs instead of Muggles," worried Hermione. "I don't know if we can lose them."

"Well if they don't see us go—" muttered Ron moving behind a man who obviously had giant blood, and pulling Hermione out the back entrance.

"If only we could do a concealing charm," moaned Hermione glancing back to see if they were pursued.

"They're fascinated with the guy with the sparkling stars on his robe," said Harry.  "I think we're lost them.

"What keeps them from leaving without us," worried Ron as they slipped through the wall.

Hermione reached into her robe pocket and pulled out the car keys.

"When did you Accio them?" asked Ron.  "I didn't see you—"

"You did it wandlessly, didn't you?" said Harry.

Hermione nodded. "And I have a splitting headache, just like when I Accioed my wand off of Lucius Malfoy.  I don't know how someone could do a more complicated spell.  Their head would explode."

"Shh," said Harry turning back toward the wall, but it was only another wizard coming through, the fellow with the stars on his robe.   They hurried forward to Borgin & Burkes.

Luckily it was one of the first shops they came to.  They fell through the doorway, looking for Malfoy.  He was unconcernedly appraising an enchanted diadem as fine as thread of silk.  "And it would be virtually undetectable in my hair, even by Legilimency?"

"I'd stake my life on it," said Mr. Borgin.

"Humph," said Draco. He turned as the trio entered.  A frown crossed his face. "You were followed," he said, handing the diadem back to Mr. Borgin and taking a step back behind a sarcophagus.

The door opened again and in came Samara's two brothers.

"You tried to sneak out on us," accused Simon.

Draco looked from one to the other and back to Harry.  "I knew you were pathetic Potter.  But I had no idea how pathetic. You can't even keep Squibs from following you. This was a mistake."

"We didn't owl you, Malfoy," spat Ron.  "You owled us."

"I'm leaving," said Draco, with a swirl of robes, he took two steps towards the door.

Unfortunately, Samara's brothers were in the doorway, and Garrett grasped Draco's shoulder. "Now, just a minute," he said.

The death glare from Draco made Garrett back instantly away or perhaps Garrett was repelled by merely touching the wizard, but Draco had his wand out instantly. He hesitated, looking at the wand in his hand.  "Sorry, reflex," he said.  He glanced back at the trio as he pocketed the wand.  "Wands should only be used for classes."  His face broke into its customary smirk.

"What!" cried Hermione.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Do you really want the Ministry to know every little spell you can do, Mudblood? A wizard has to have some privacy."

"You've called her a Mudblood for the last time," said Ron lunging for Draco. 

Samara's brothers parted to make room for them, but Mr. Borgin reacted faster, stunning Ron in mid-lunge.  "Leave," he said coldly, holding his wand at Ron's nose.

"Oh, it's alright, Mr. Borgin," said Draco, brushing his robe with the back of his hand, and reaching down to pull a groggy Ron to his feet.  "My friend here sometimes gets so into slumming, he forgets reality."  Draco tossed the man a galleon.  "For your room, and your silence," he said.

"Of course young Mr. Malfoy."  Bowing obsequiously, the man motioned to a back room.  Draco walked regally into it followed by the trio and Samara's brothers.

The room looked like a garish boardroom.  An enormous walnut table and chairs graced the center.  Shelves with everything from shrunken heads to jewelry and potions lined the walls. Draco immediately sat at the head of the table and waited for the others to assemble.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked Ron as soon as they entered the room.

"Yeah," he said, but Harry didn't think he looked alright. He looked extremely pale and shaken.  "That was some stunning spell though—and you Malfoy—"

"It wasn't just a stun, you stupid, git."

"Look," said Harry throwing up his hands.  "Let's call a truce.  None of us like each other all that much, but let's try to work together to get the job done. The sooner it's done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

"True," said Hermione.

"Very well," said Draco, glancing at Hermione and sighing. "I will refrain from calling the cauldron black.  I doubt the Weasel can refrain from being stupid, but I do put up with Gregory and Vincent.  What are we going to do about the Squibs?"

It took Harry a second to realize Draco was talking about Crabbe and Goyle, and Squibs, Samara's brothers, who had been uncommonly quiet throughout the entire exchange.

"I don't know," said Harry, taking the other seat next to Malfoy.  Samara's brothers sat on the other side of him and he glanced at them saying, "I suppose they are trustworthy.  It is their sister we are looking for—"

"Trustworthy—" began Simon, but Draco interrupted.

"By the way," said Draco holding out his hand across the table to the brothers.  "I'm Draco Malfoy, in case you haven't guessed."

"And you're a wizard too?" asked Garrett as he shook Draco's hand.  "You know there had to be some trick to his flying across the room back there.  Why don't you tell us what it is?"

"It would be a great prank, wouldn't it Garrett?" added Simon

"Prank?" said Draco, a sly grin appearing on his face.  "So you don't believe in magic?  Really?"  Draco leaned in nonchalantly against the table and flexed his fingers.  The slight crackle of magic reached Harry's ears and he felt Shesha stir sensing the latent magic.  "Neither did the last Muggle I met," continued Draco softly.  "Allow me to change your perspective—"

"Draco, stop it.  If the ministry is breathing down our necks, how will we save Samara?" said Harry reaching forward and covering Draco's hand with his own.  He abruptly pulled his hand back as Malfoy's magic crackled along his skin, and Shesha hissed warningly under his sleeve.

"Do you think I'd get caught?  Your lack of confidence cuts me to the quick, Potter."  

"Well, save it for the Dark Lord," spat Ron,

Now that the little basilisk was awake, she pocked her head out of Harry's sleeve curiously scenting Draco's magic. "{Ssheiss?}"  She inquired flicking her tongue and tasting the magic.

"{No Shesha—not ssheiss—at least not now,}" Harry hissed back sharply, trying to hide the serpent. Ron turned his glare to the basilisk and Hermione coughed uneasily, trying to muffle the parseltongue. Unfortunately Draco noticed.

"New pet Potter? Interesting choice. That will go over quite well with the Gryffs, won't it?" Draco smirked and Harry glared at him, and Shesha stuck out her tongue with a decidedly superior attitude.

Draco chuckled and leaned back in the chair, which grew tiny hands and began massaging his neck.  "Very well. Do you Gryffindors have a plan for this little rescue?"

Harry wondered how Draco managed to make the word Gryffindor sound like a swear word on his lips.

"We just thought we would go and get them," said Ron.  "Quickly.  Get in.  Get out. Use the element of surprise."

"That isn't a plan," said Draco. "That's suicide."

"Well, first we need to know where the girls are," said Harry .  "All we can discern from the locator potion is snow.  It's not helping much."

"Ah--A locator potion brewed no doubt by the Mu-Milady here."  Draco gave a little bow in Hermione's direction, and smirked at her.

"I brewed it with Ron's help," said Hermione coolly.

"I assume that's why you picked up the Squibs," said Draco, addressing Harry again.

Simon turned to interrogate Hermione.  "Why does he keep calling us squids? I know he's calling us something nasty, I can tell by the tone, but why squids?"

"Squibs, not squids—" Hermione started to explain..

"No actually, they drove us here," said Harry.

"Drove?" asked Draco.  "As in a Muggle –um transportation thing-"

"A car," said Hermione.

"With the Squib that wrecked his father's car?" demanded Draco, incredulous.  "Oh you are brave," he said.

"Who told you I wrecked the car?" snapped Garrett.

"Why, Samara of course.  I'm not a Legilimens."

"A what?" asked Garrett.  "And what's this squid thing?"

 "Oh do shut up," said Draco, removing Garrett's mouth with a flip of his hand.  "You're annoying."

"You're where Samara got that spell," spat Harry.

"Give him back his mouth," demanded Hermione, but Garrett reacted faster than Hermione jumping to his feet and taking a swing at Draco. 

Draco ducked, and held both hands in front of himself.  "Imperio," he said softly, and Simon immediately turned punching his younger brother full in the face where his mouth would have been if he had had one.

Garrett wasted no time punching him back.  "A galleon says the younger one wins, Potter," challenged Draco.

"That—that—" sputtered Hermione.  "That was Imperius!" 

"You can't," echoed Harry.

"Look," said Draco in a bored voice, "a Dark Mark gets you a life sentence in Azkaban so what's an unforgivable?  At some point I'm bound to need to prove to the Ministry that I was under Imperius.  Don't you think it makes sense that I become familiar with the spell that is probably going to save my life?  Your sister should do the same," he said to Ron.

Ron looked horrified.

"You are sick, Malfoy," said Harry.

"I'm enjoying your company too, Potter. I'm having loads of fun.  Let's just get the job done, and we can be out of each others abhorrent company."  Draco sidestepped just as Garrett landed a particularly wicked punch and his brother crumpled unconscious.  "I told you the younger would win," said Draco.  "Pay up, Potter."

"I didn't bet," said Harry coldly.

"Oh well," Draco shrugged.

"Draco?" said Hermione.  His first name sounded strange on Hermione's lips and both Harry and Ron looked at her.  "I think Garrett needs his mouth back." 

Indeed, the blood was running freely from Garrett's nose and he was turning a little blue since he couldn't breathe through his mouth or his nose.  He stretched one hand out to the trio and then collapsed on the ground.

Draco stepped over him and studied the bottles on the wall.  "He has to have an empty one somewhere," Draco muttered.  "Ah here we go."  Draco opened the bottle, and intoned Glomerare Camella, causing the blood from Garrett's nose to coalesce into a small stream, which poured itself into the empty bottle.  He then reversed the spell, which had removed Garrett's mouth, and Garrett sucked a deep breath of air into his lungs.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione appalled.

"Collecting his blood," said Draco.  "Guaranteed Squib blood is premium on the market.  It's very hard to tell the difference from Muggle blood."

"You are disgusting," spat Harry.  "It's not like you need the money, Malfoy."

"My family didn't get where we are, by passing up opportunities," said Draco coldly as he stoppered the bottle and set it aside. He nodded to Samara's brothers. "Shall we let them sleep and get on with our business?"

Harry nodded uneasily.  "Do you know where this place is—where Voldemort is keeping the girls?"

"The Snow Castle?"  said Draco. 

"Yes.  You've been there.  You have to know where it is," demanded Ron.

"Where is the Snow Castle?" Draco said thoughtfully. "I've often assumed it was the North Pole.  Yes.  He kicked Father Christmas out and took his house elves--cookies and Cocoa for everyone.  Merry Muggle hunting to all, and to all a good night."

They all just stared at him.  "It's a joke Potter.  If I have to explain it takes all the fun out of it."  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  "Gryffindors.  No sense of humor."

"So where is it?" persisted Ron.

"I don't know," Draco said exasperated.  "I used a portkey, floo, house elf , Apparated, but I have no idea where it is."

"If you've Apparated, you have to know where you're going.  Visualization aside—" began Harry.

"There were extenuating circumstances, Potter," said Draco coldly.

"Oh yeah, when your Dark Mark's burning you know where you're going," spat Ron.

"So glad I didn't have to explain –" said Draco.

"Ok, so you can't tell us where it is," said Harry.  "How do you propose we get there then?"

"When I'm called, if I go right away, I should be able to divert the Apparition slightly so that I arrive in an adjacent room."

"Should?" said Hermione.

"Ok, I can," said Draco.  "No problem.  I'll take one of you with me.  I'd suggest you Potter since you've had advanced charms.  You can make a portkey, back to your friends and the reverse, back to the Snow Castle. You'll have probably five minutes that the shields will be down while the other Death Eaters Apparate.  Can you make a portkey that fast?"

"No way," interrupted Ron. "You could just Apparate right in front of You-Know-Who with Harry!" 

"And what purpose would that serve?" asked Draco.

"Who knows what goes through your sick mind.  You had to be nuts to get the Dark Mark in the first place."

Draco surprisingly said nothing.

"This sounds an awful lot like a trap," said Ron.  "Forget it Malfoy—"

"I'll do it," said Harry.

"Harry, are you mad?  You're trusting Malfoy!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry, his green eyes boring into Malfoy's. "If I have any inkling of a trick, I'll take over the Apparition."

"You're mighty confident that you can," said Draco.

"Yes, I am," said Harry.

"It's not my spell," said Draco. "It's His."

"Exactly," said Harry.  "At best, He'll think you are fighting his spell.  At worst, you'll splinch."

"I think you have that backwards, Potter," said Draco softly. 

Harry looked at him quizzically.

"It's at best, I'd splinch," said Malfoy.  "But I'm not going to betray you.  I want Samara back as much or more than you do, so it's a deal."

"Good," said Harry holding out his hand to Draco. 

Draco looked at it for a moment, and for a second Harry was transported back in time to Madam Maulkins when Draco had once held out a hand in friendship to him.  He thought, Draco wasn't going to take his hand, but Draco surprised him and grasped it firmly.  His hand was warm with latent magic.  "It's a deal," he said.

And then, turning back to the table, he said, "There's something else we should discuss."

"What's that?" asked Hermione.

"Who to trust," said Draco.

Harry started to answer, but Hermione stopped him. "I don't see why we have to do this," said Hermione.  "I don't think we have a whole lot of trust for you, Malfoy."

"Touche' Milady, but what if you get caught?"

"My name is Hermione."

Draco smirked.  "Who should I go to for help?  Or should I just let things—um," he shrugged nonchalantly.  "Take their course?"

Harry shuddered.  "We're not going to get caught," he said. 

"You may be able to pull that Gryffindor luck out of your ass, Potter, but I'm a Slytherin. I want a back up plan."

"Sirius," said Harry slowly. "You can trust Sirius and Lupin."

A shadow of a frown crossed Malfoy's face.  "What is it?" Harry asked immediately.  "What do you know that we don't, Malfoy?"

Draco laughed shortly. "I only planned to be here an hour or so, not my whole life time."

"You're such an annoying prat," said Harry.  "I'm starting to see why Samara used Imperio on you."

Draco's face darkened like a storm cloud.  "That is not your business, Potter," he said with surprising menace.  He stood and paced away from the table.  "There's a census on dangerous creatures."

"We knew that," said Harry.  "The Ministry is trying to keep track—"

"The Ministry has nothing to do with it," spat Draco.  "He wants to know where they are for future reference, especially those with vampire or werewolf blood.  The giants were a disappointment to him.  You realized he already had those with siren blood, didn't you?"

"What?"  Harry stared.

"Since Beauxbatons."  Draco shook his head.  "Honestly, what was the point of attacking Beauxbatons except to capture the veelas?"

"Veelas?"  asked Ron confusedly.

"Is he always this stupid, Potter? Even Goyle has the grace to keep quiet when he has nothing to say."

"Why did he attack Durmstrang then?  I thought most of those who went to school there would agree with him."

"They do," said Draco. "They are at the Snow Castle now. That's part of the problem with getting you in and out.  There are too many people milling around.  Bring the scrap you pulled out of the Invisibility Cloak. We'll need it."

"Just a minute," said Ron, but Harry nodded.  "He's right," said Harry "We'll need the Invisibility cloak, but did you know it doesn't work all the time?"

Draco frowned.

"Moody could see through it with his magical eye.  Is there anyone else?  Any Death Eaters with magical eyes or anything like that?"

"No," said Draco, "But we won't try to get past Him with it, and from what I've read Animagi could smell us, so we'll have to be careful of Millicent and Pritch and Wormtail."  Draco paused. "You haven't asked about Beatrice."

"We know," said Harry.

"That she was Crucioed?"  Draco shook his head.  "I'd rather be dead," said Draco dryly, and they were all silent for a moment thinking about Beatrice.

Hermione threw a puzzled look at Ron, but Harry continued.  "And how's Samara?"

"Same," said Draco.  "We aren't going to try to rescue her the first time there.  We're just going to get the portkey made, ok?"

The trio didn't answer.  "Ok?" asked Draco again. "I'm not doing this for Him to torture me, you know."  Draco sighed.  "He's played with death before and if he tampers with her, she might not be the same Samara when she wakes.  But right now, he's content to let things take the natural course, so we shouldn't disturb her either, but if he doesn't—"

"Can't we get her out unconscious?" asked Hermione

"No.  No.  Too risky, for her and us," said Draco, "but if he decides to use some of his manipulations, we may have to.  Right now, let's just finish putting together this list of people who can help us.  You said Sirius and Lupin.  Not Dumbledore?"

"I don't know," said Harry.  "I suppose so."

"I wouldn't," said Draco. "Ever since the prediction that said he would defeat Grindelwald surfaced, he's lived his whole life around one prediction or another.  At least he was decisive.  Now, that the prophecies are wearing thin, I think he's going a little senile.  He is over one hundred and fifty and he always was weird."

"Ok, Dumbledore in reserve," said Harry.  "But I have heard that he's the only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared."

"No, he was the only wizard Tom Riddle ever feared. We're talking about a schoolboy here, and believe me, Lord Voldemort is no schoolboy.  Anyway, that too was a prophecy." 

Harry hesitated.  Even though he had his own reservations about Dumbledore, he had no intention of taking Malfoy's word for anything.  "So who can we trust on your side?"  Harry asked. 

"Pansy and Lauren," said Draco immediately, "and Lauren's father of course, Marshall Avery.  I think that's it.  If you need to contact me, send any owls to Lauren. She'll owl me."

"It's faster for us to owl you directly," said Hermione.

"It's safer for Lauren to," said Draco.

"Ok," agreed Harry.  "How do I know when you are going to be summoned?"

"Not summoned," Draco snapped.  "Called.  And you don't.  I'll need a portkey to your place.  I'll just come and get you. Sorry.  He doesn't generally send invitations."

"I don't like it," muttered Ron.

"Honestly," said Draco.  "I thought you were a Gryffindor.  You whine more than Gregory."  He turned to Harry.  "Potter, if you try to rescue her on the first trip, all agreements are off."

Harry hesitated.  "If the opportunity comes up—"

"NO!" snapped Draco.  "We'll do it when He is out of the castle.  Otherwise He's going to start questioning people, and if he questions me, I'll tell him everything."

Harry nodded.

"I suppose you're going to drive back with the Squibs," Draco said eyeing the crumpled forms in the corner.  "Hard to drive when you're unconscious, I'd imagine."

"Draco," said Hermione softly, "do you think you could Ennervate them for us?  Maybe a healing charm, at least for Garrett's nose?"

"No memory alterations?" asked Draco with a raised eyebrow.

"No.  I don't think so," said Hermione.

"It must be terrible to be so dependent on that piece of wood," said Draco snidely. "Or a Slytherin. It's almost like the full marks from Hogwarts mean nothing. Ennervate."

Hermione blushed bright red, and her hands clenched at her sides, magic gathering in her fist.

The boys started to stir in the corner, Garrett groaning as he pulled himself to a sitting position.

"Medico," said Hermione, directing the magic toward Garrett's broken nose.  Immediately she staggered with the power of the spell, and she brought her hands to her temples.

"Don't worry about it, Mudblood," said Draco. "Mum always says a little pain builds character." 

He turned and nearly walked into Ron.  "Apologize," Ron growled.

"Oh, sorry, Milady," Draco said but he didn't sound sorry at all.  "Old habits die hard, Weasel.  You should know that."  He brushed past Ron and strode out to the shop room. 

Their last sight of him was haggling over the price of squib blood with Mr. Borgin.

"I know you don't generally deal in perishables," said Draco. "But I don't have time to take it elsewhere, and like you said, it will spoil."

"How do I know it's really Squib blood, and not just ordinary Muggle?" asked Mr. Borgin.

"I'm a Malfoy," said Draco haughtily.

"If it isn't, what you say, I'll owl your father," said Mr. Borgin, turning the vial thoughtfully in his hand.

"Done," said Draco, shaking his hand.

The trio slipped out of the door followed by a rather groggy pair of Squibs.  They hurried back through the Leaky Cauldron and out to the street where they left the car.

"Ok," said Garrett rubbing his nose.  "I'm convinced Draco's a wizard."

"What about me?" said Hermione.

"Damn," said Simon. "A parking ticket.  Dad's going to kill me."

"You have a job," said Garrett.  "Just pay it and don't tell him."

Simon looked at the sky. 

"Ok," said Garrett.  "That won't work."

"And it's from London.  I'm dead," complained Simon.

"And even if you live, definitely no car," agreed Garrett. "Do you have to be a wizard to use those portkey things?" Garrett asked Harry.

Harry shrugged.

"Why don't we stop at Connor's flat on the way home," said Simon.  "He always has the best ideas on how to get by Dad."

"Not that he needs them," said Garrett as they headed back toward home.

"I have my own parents to worry about," said Hermione.  "I told them I'd be back by six o'clock."

"Oh we'll have you home in plenty of time," said Simon.  

Connor was nothing like his brothers.  He reminded Harry of Percy, a stickler for rules and order.  His flat was immaculate and he insisted that the whole group of them take off their shoes before they stepped on his carpet.  When he heard about the parking ticket, he asked to see it.  Then he suggested that they come right out and tell their father the truth.

"Tell him you got a parking ticket, but in an effort to show that you have some responsibility for your actions, you intend to pay for it, and would like to know if he has any further requirements you must fulfill to keep your car privileges.  He will appreciate your candor."

"You wouldn't tell him the truth if it were your parking ticket," said Simon.  "You'd lie straight to his face."

"That's me," said Connor. "You, however, would not get away with lying.  Play to your strengths little brother."

"Yeah, and what are they?" muttered Simon.

"Well, as soon as we find some, Simon, we'll let you know," said Garrett.

Simon punched Garret on the arm, and Garrett playfully pushed him back.

"Not in the house," said Connor, in a voice that brooked no argument.

Definitely like Percy, thought Harry.

They talked for a few more minutes about Samara's abduction, filling Connor in on all of the details that he had missed.  He listened carefully, and then said, "So, Grandma Lori has a way of communicating with you?"

"Well, not right now," said Harry, "but as soon as we get back to Hogwarts, I can send Agamemnon to her with any news we have."

"Will this owl come to me instead?" asked Connor.

"Yes, if I send him here," said Harry.

"Do that," said Connor. "Grandmother is an old woman.  She doesn't need any more stress in her life.  My parents give her enough."

Harry found himself back outside, feeling rather like he and the others had been dismissed.  It was cold, had started to rain and was generally miserable weather.  They watched the swish-swish of the windshield wipers until they got near to Samara's house.

"Hey, do you want us to take you home?" asked Simon.

"Oh no, we'll just use the portkey," said Harry.

"Anything to delay telling Dad about the ticket, right?" asked Garrett, but Simon didn't answer. 

 "We're going to head right back," said Hermione.  "Thanks for your help."  She gathered up her bag from the back seat of the car, and the threesome got out.

The brothers were already back to talking about the parking ticket as they exited the car.  "So I'm just going to say I got a ticket and I'm going to pay it," said Simon.

"And he'll say, let me see it," said Garrett.

Simon felt in his pockets for the ticket.  "I don't have it," he said.  "I can't show it to him.  I must have left it at Conner's. "

"Hey," wondered Garrett, "Do you think Connor kept it on purpose, so Dad wouldn't see it."

"Nah, he's not that nice," said Simon.

++

The door closed on their conversation and the trio was left standing in the freezing drizzle in front of the Donnally house. 

"So when are we going to make this portkey for Draco?" asked Hermione. "And practice, if you need it, Harry?"

"Sirius house?" ventured Harry.

"He won't let you do magic over the holiday," predicted Ron.

"Let's just go, before we are completely drenched," said Harry pulling out the portkey.  All three put their hands on it and the tug behind their navel took them back to Hermione's house. 

+++

Answers to Reviewers

After you have reviewed, please come and visit us at  

             

Answer the questions and join the discussion!

Harpy: You sound like you need a new computer more than I do!  Did I capitalize Dad?  Oh well.  Have to check. Thanks for being a careful reader, and good luck with your "rose".  Did you read the first story, The Seers' Truth: A Broken Beginning?  I don't remember you reviewing.  I hope you did or you are shortly going to be very confused.  You did know that Edward's wand contains a harpy feather, right?

Anonymous:  sacrilegious?    Well, that's me.  Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Adaneth:  You were disappointed when Harry woke up!  Lol.  Oh that's rich.  I thought about leaving him dead—no not really—not yet anyway—(evil laughter)  More Tom and Ginny to come.

SeviSnape is my Savior & Lucius is my Lover:  Gosh with a name like that, how can I answer?  Does everyone hate Harry these days?   I thought he was actually tolerable in this fic.  He's really useless in the first book.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Draco in this chapter.  A little bit of Lucius to come—lots more Snape.

Sky:  Thanks for the review

Elfstoned:  Welcome and come and visit at the yahoo group, w-groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Seers_Truth  Now that the rescue with the dog is not going to work, I wonder what Snape will do with the dog.  Any ideas?

Terry:  Glad you enjoyed.  Hope you liked Samara's brothers and Draco.  Sorry I didn't leave Harry in the Chamber.  Gosh you are a blood thirsty lot!

Tiamat Warcraft:  An evil and mystifying voice echoes from your computer:  You must never miss reviewing again.

Emma-Trelawny:  Glad you like the trio.  You are in the minority in my readership.  And no Ginny can't get the emerald right now.

TajuAkiel:  Promise I will finish the story. You promise you will read and review.

Jager:  Snape knows more than he lets anyone know.  He's a tricky guy.

Trillium:  Harry/Myrtle.  Hehehe.   And would you tell Snape that dream?

Silverfox:  Well, the Mauraders made that map and I just wanted everyone to realize they should have let Lily in on the fun.  I never said the Slytherin common room wasn't on the map. I said some warded areas. We know from JK, they got Snape's office so they got some Slytherin areas, but I can't see any of the Mauraders in my Slytherin girls' dorm, at least not at their time period.  The head of Slytherin house would have killed them.  And yes, I agree Harry was fighting a losing battle with the basilisk.  He couldn't kill it and he couldn't keep it.  Or could he?

Reiven:  Thanks for the review.  The emerald is an emerald.  It is not a potion.  Hope you enjoyed the Draco.  More coming as you might imagine.

Ennui deMorte:    Severus, an eunich.  Lol. Sorry, Draco isn't going to be hissusss anytime soon.

Kemenran:  Insightful as always

Wesley Peppers:  Glad you enjoyed.  Keep reading.  More fun to come.

THANK YOU TO ALL MY READERS AND REVIEWERS. 

You do not have to pay for this fic, a simple sentence telling what you thought about the chapter is much appreciated by the author, so please review.  Not only that, it will keep your fellow readers from complaining—

Lady Lestrange