The Distance to Here
Chapter 4
A/N: Hi everybody! Here's chapter 4, and thank you for all the support we've been getting. Lots of things are revealed in this chapter, and there is a lot of insight into the mind of Draco, why he is who he is, and what his next steps are going to be. I know there are a lot of characters right now, and we have to introduce them all, so that's why the action has been kind of slow. But this is a definite plot point, so read carefully! And please review to give us some Constructive Crit! Thank you again!
~*~
"There's only one way to know for sure," Harry said urgently. "I don't believe him, he has never shown any evidence that he was capable of any emotions but anger and hate. Except when he was gloating over Ron. We have to use the Veritaserum."
"That is illegal without the consent of the prisoner. Draco is a Malfoy, Harry, he has too much pride to expose himself fully and truthfully to you! If the positions were switched, and you had an opportunity to bare your soul before Draco Malfoy, would you?" She knew she had him there. If he ever said that he would do it, it was bullshit, and both of them knew it.
"I am not the one on trial, here, 'Mione! He committed the crimes! We could indict him for use of the Unforgiveables, and it would put him away for 10 years in Azkaban."
"You know as well as I do that if we put him away we lose all chance of getting information about his father from him. Now who is being biased here? We keep him until we find out as much as we can from him. You can decide if he's guilty as we talk to him. But don't let old rivalries get between you and doing your job," she hissed. "We wait. Send an owl to Ron, and tell him that we've apprehended the suspect but his guilt is unclear, and we are holding him for information. Do not tell him who the suspect is, under any circumstances. Ron will push the Act, and he will AK him."
"I would too if it were legal," Harry muttered under his breath. She shot him a look that rivaled Cho at her most vindictive. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'm being an idiot. But I can't talk to him. Not now. Will you bring him some food or something and try to get information out of him? And ask him about the-"
"Veritaserum," she finished for him. "Yeah, I'll do it." She smiled warmly at him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Go send the owl to Ron, and for God's sake, cool off." He walked off, a pale attempt at a smile glued to his features.
~*~
"Here." Hermione leaned over the side of the bed, placing a tray on the small wooden nightstand. It contained a silver cup full of cool pumpkin juice, a Chocolate Frog, and several pumpkin patties.
Draco made no movement or sound. He sat, unmoving, eyes hollow and unfeeling as steel, set in a perfect wall of indifference to vainly try to bury the desperate grief and longing he felt. Hermione was slightly nervous looking into those lifeless orbs. The account of his recent experiences had sent the blood coursing through her veins in anger. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had found love together, something neither could have found alone before they knew each other. Then viciously torn apart by the one person every boy should be able to wholly trust and count on; his father. She looked at him, and could feel the tension emanating from him; a cold wave of fury and anguish.
He wanted nothing more or less that to make the days fly by; to will time to speed up; hastening his escape from the pathetic excuse of an existence that circumstance and genetic disposition had hurled him into. This emotion transcended even his carefully erected wall of indifference. The pain seeped out of every crevice in his body, but Draco Malfoy was trained not to feel grief, and he was damned if his trained behaviour would give out on him now, in the presence of his biggest rival, whom he had already revealed too much. Better go to Azkaban, and die, than stay free and have to live knowing that the life he possessed was not really his, but rightfully his beautiful Pansy's; that mere chance had placed it into his own hands.
Separate, they had been ordinary, cruel people, brought up in families where malice and vengeance had taught them all they knew. When they had opened up to each other, and found the connection blossoming there, they became new people. Together, they were superior; torn out of reality by their love and hovering blissfully above the ground where the mere mortals crawled. He could never throw away the precious gift of her life. He now realized, in the cold of that darkened, bland cell, that the only thing he could to love Pansy and to keep her memory alive was to use her final gift to him, and learn to live again. The reality of it was staggering.
Hemione felt like a horrible intruder. She watched this whole inner epiphany with anxious fascination. He had been through so much, was so vulnerable, and she felt as if she was exposing it for everyone to see. She let out a breath she hadn't known was being held when she observed the raising of his chin and stiffening of broad shoulders. He deserved this life, and she saw the resolve in him to use it. If anyone could regain their sense of living and pick up the shattered pieces of their existence, it was Draco Malfoy.
"Aren't you going to eat something?" she asked softly, sitting down onto the crude wooden chair on the opposite side of the cell. "Harry wants to send you to Azkaban, you know, if you don't submit to the Veritaserum."
"I will not have my secrets spilled out to the world, and I would certainly not put the submission of my entire mind under the hands of Harry Potter! You know he would abuse that right."
"But Ron hates you. Are you forgetting who he is? The Minister of Wizarding Justice has the right to put you in Azkaban for the rest of your life! And he is desperately trying to reinstate the Emergency Measures Act from 25 years ago. The Act that allows Aurors to use the Unforgiveables. And Harry would not hesitate in AK-ing you." Draco sneered.
"Why are you playing the Devil's Advocate, Granger? Going for Saint-ship, are we? Did Harry put you up to this? It's a bloody tactic, is what it is! I have my pride too, Granger, and I am not putting it on the line because of biased law enforcement." Her eyes flashed, and Draco saw first-hand why she made such a good Auror. But Draco Malfoy didn't submit to just anyone's glare. He shot back at her with a ferocity that made her eyes blink and widen.
"I am trying to get as much information out of you as possible, if you wish me to be frank. And, obviously you wouldn't be of much help to us dead. Or in Azkaban, for that matter. You would probably refuse to see us. Although refusing wouldn't help much, and we could always use the Veritaserum there. And then the press would be free to chew on your remains. If you co-operate with us here, though, we won't be able to leak anything to the press. What do you say Ferret?" She grinned nastily, and put out her hand.
Draco sighed, and rolled his eyes up to the sky, silently asking for strength from whatever was out there, and clasped Hermione's hand. The smile disappeared from Hermione's face as she met Draco's eyes. His hand was warm, and it spread all through her body. She hastily shook it and dropped her eyes to the ground, pulling away. "Enjoy your meal," she said, and was gone. Draco sat with his head in his hands, white-blonde hair falling down in front of his face, wondering what on earth had just happened.
~*~
Remus Lupin walked through the door of the vibrant, colourful shop in Diagon Alley. Inside was even more colourful; small explosions went off every moment, in every part of the shop. Mahogany shelves contained countless, shiny, new products, ready to be sold. On the back wall of the shop, prominently displayed in large red letters, the borrowed manifesto flashed at every customer; 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'. Remus gave a small chuckle as he saw it, and held the door open for the large black lab at his heels. A tall, handsome redhead greeted them from the counter.
"Prof- Remus! Would you mind taking the bloody dog outside, we don't-" At a raise of eyebrows from Remus, his face changed into a mask of comprehension and a hint of conspiracy. "Oh, right then. I have your- ah- order. Just go in back, and I'll meet you in a couple of minutes." Fred Weasley looked coyly at the pretty blonde waiting to be served.
"Can I help you?" Remus heard Fred say seductively. He rolled his eyes. He went behind the curtain with the carefully placed Anti-hearing spells and a Polyjuice Protector (one of Remus' additions) to the rear of the shop, which was coincidentally a headquarters for a group of wizards commonly known as the Rebels; wizards who had previously been exiled, in disrepute, or, in Sirius' case, under investigation, and were working constantly for Ron Weasley in secret, forming his own private intel operation.
He sat down at a round table, plain wood, with several large, black leather armchairs placed around it. Candles floated around the room, two placed above each armchair, and some standing on top of the table. Once inside, Sirius transformed and then sat down at his place, beside Remus. There were 12 spots at the table- for Remus, Sirius, Albus Dumbledore, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Snape, Arabella and Mundungus. There was also a spot reserved for Justin Finch-Fletchley, but he had been killed by a Death Eater 2 months before, and his place had not yet been filled.
Slowly, the seats around the table began to be filled. Snape was the next to come, giving a nod to Sirius and Remus as he sat down. They were now on more amiable terms, although a friendship had never blossomed between them. Mundungus and Arabella arrived together, followed by Dumbledore, pretending to want to inspect the back of the shop for any illegal joke equipment. Finally, the Weasley brothers came in together, and the council began.
Casual conversation started, for it was unusual for the Rebels to meet in normal circumstances. The less they saw of each other in public the better, for it would rouse suspicion. Families were inquired after, businesses were talked of, love lives were discussed, and the Hogwarts crowd reminisced about the times they had spent in its comforting, stone walls. Finally, though, they got down to their purpose.
Ron started up the meeting. "Right, the last time Remus, Sirius and I talked, we had got wind of some troubling news about a Ministry Owl carrying a cryptic Death Eater code into the Paper and Pulp of Munich building. The building being, of course, the false front for our Ministry. The problem is that a Ministry Owl carrying a Death Eater message towards our building suggests a Death Eater mole right inside the Ministry. Sirius, Ron, did you do the background checks?"
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, before Remus gets to his findings, I have the results of the cryptic code analysis, and I am going to read the letter to everyone." Snape's cold voice pierced the air. He coughed slightly, and opened his mouth to read. "The package has been sent to Albania. It is still alive. May Nagini have a good meal. Bring her as soon as you can, to Albania. Avery." He looked up. "That is all. There was a lot of rubbish words in between, but that's what it boils down to in the end, once I've weeded out the bullshit. Nagini is Voldemort's snake. I think we can assume that the package is Fudge. Sorry Remus, carry on."
Remus brought out a sheaf of documents. "Everyone is clean, Ron. There is no blatant sign of Dark Wizardry anywhere. But we have picked up some subtleties. Not only did we look at previous employment, or criminal records, we looked at bank accounts- by the way we'll need 2000 galleons for bribing the Gringotts Goblins- and traveling. All Ministry wizards are required to have a spell placed on their wands recording every spell they perform. Someone in the Ministry has taken 6 trips to Albania within the past year, and it's not just some janitor, Ron. It's much worse."
"Who the bloody hell is it, Remus? Get on with it!" Ron was impatient and anxious, and it showed plainly on his face. His freckles, faded with age, stood out abominably on his face, red hair more pronounced from the paleness of his face. Even bathed in the soft candlelight, he was deathly white.
"It's Ludlow, Ron. Mortimer Ludlow. The Minister for Magic."