It was raining again, and Harry was depressed. "I have no Cunning Plan!" he wailed to nobody in particular.
Draco Malfoy, who, in a rather fantastic coincidence, happened to be just coming around the corner, heard him, and a light bulb went off in his head. That's it, he thought. All this time I've been looking for way to implement Phase 2, and it's right in front of me.
"Harry, what's wrong?" he asked, giving himself a pat on the back for being so subtle. "What do you need a cunning plan for?"
Harry turned in surprise, prepared to defend himself, but when he saw Draco his stance softened. "I need a way to defeat Voldemort. And it can't just be any old cunning plan, Draco." He turned back towards the wall he had been angsting at before his old rival's arrival. "No, it has to be a Cunning Plan. And it has to work this time."
"Oh, happy day," Draco said to himself. He hadn't realized that he had said it out loud until Harry turned with a confused look on his face.
"What did you say?"
"Oh, um," Draco said, stalling. "I said, 'what a crappy way to spend the day', you know, talking to walls and trying to figure out a Cunning Plan, and such." He grimaced inwardly, knowing he wasn't making much sense. I really need to stop accidentally speaking aloud, he thought.
Harry still looked confused, but then he sighed and seemed to accept Draco's answer. He turned back to his new favorite wall again, and spoke. "I've tried everything, Draco. I tried asking Hermione Who Knows Everything, I tried gillyweed…" he made a face. "I even tried talking to Dobby, though Merlin knows why I thought he would be able to do anything for me other than feed me." He paused. "Although, come to think of it, I suppose I should be grateful that he didn't try to 'save' me again, because that didn't end too well last time…"
At the mention of his former House Elf, Draco had to physically restrain himself from hurting Harry. This involved a lot of very strange hand motion, in which his left hand reached for Harry, and his right tried to pull it back. His feet fought each other too, one of them stepping forward as the other stepped back. He ended up practically doing the splits, and he froze mid-grunt when Harry turned to look at him.
"Draco, what are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"
Draco finally got his body under control and straightened up. "Yes, Harry, I'm fine. I was just thinking."
"Do you always think like that?"
"Um, no, actually. Just when I'm trying to think of a Cunning Plan."
Harry's face brightened so much that Draco had to fight himself to keep from looking away. It was like looking into the sun, but he was a Malfoy, so he gritted his teeth and bore it.
"Oh! Are you going to help me?" Harry asked in surprise. "I thought that, you know, because you're a Slytherin and all, and because we used to be archenemies, you'd just want my help without giving me anything in return."
"Times have changed, Harry," Draco said gravely, trying to make up for his earlier antics. "Times change pretty fast when there is a Very Evil Dark Lord out there plotting your death."
"I know," Harry said, with the air of someone who has fought said Very Evil Dark Lord multiple times and gotten nowhere, which in fact he had.
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Lucius was in trouble. Voldemort had called all the Death Eaters to his throne room so that Lucius could tell them all about his Plan. It was supposed to be his chance to show off as the Dark Lord's Right Hand Man, and lord it over them all that Voldemort valued and respected him enough to trust him with his Plans. The only problem was that he could not for the life of him remember what the Plan was about. All he knew was that it involved his son in some way, and of course the Boy Who Lived as well. Oh well, he thought, I'm not cowering this time. That's something, at least.
He coughed nervously as everyone stared at him. "Erm," he began, in a voice that was definitely not befitting of a Malfoy. "The Dark Lord's new beard- I mean, Plan, goes like this. Um, my son will, I think, capture Harry Potter, and then bring him back to us. And then we will kill him."
He knew there was more, but as he was cut off by the Death Eater's cheers, he looked at his Master, who nodded his approval. He wanted very much to wonder if he had indeed remembered correctly, but he was afraid that the Very Evil Dark Lord would read his mind again.
He was saved from having to say anything more when Voldemort suddenly roared, "Everybody out! Now! Or I will fling you harder than I have ever flung anyone before!"
And before he knew what was happening, the Dark Lord had grabbed him by the arm and, sticking his marker-covered face into his Servant's, whispered, "Not you, Lucius. We need to talk."
Lucius shuddered at the words. His wife had said the exact same thing before every argument they had ever had, and also before she had announced that she was leaving him. Thus, he had a very bad association with the words "we need to talk", which had come to mean "I'm going to accuse you of everything that is really my fault and not let you get a word in edgewise". His definition was about to get very interestingly revised, however.
"I am proud of you, Lucius," was the first thing that came out of Voldemort's mouth. This startled Lucius so much that he forgot entirely about the Dark Lord's beard- but only for moment.
Voldemort smiled. "You have learned well, Lucius. I am very glad that you did not tell them about the Veil."
The Veil? Lucius thought. He must be talking about the Veil of Mysteries, but what does that have to do with anything?
Voldemort frowned. "Don't you remember the Veil, Lucius?" he asked. "It is a very integral part of your Plan, along with the Very Slippery Substance. Speaking of which, I am afraid that the Lubricus charm is not going to work. It simply does not produce enough for anything other than body orifices."
Lucius thought that he had never been more confused in his life. He also really, really did not want to think about what "orifices" the Very Evil Dark Lord had used the Lubricus charm on.
The Very Evil Dark Lord came closer to him, his Evil Smile growing with every step that he took. "You don't remember any of it, do you? Well, that is rather unfortunate. What happened, Lucius, did one of your memory charms backfire?"
Lucius coughed. "No, My Lord." He tried very hard not to think, it's all your fault, damn it, because you threw me against the wall but he was not successful.
Voldemort came even closer. His Evil Smile was even more intimidating at this distance, and Lucius had to fight his feet to keep them from running away. When the Dark Lord was about a foot away, he reached out with one long white finger and stroked Lucius's cheek.
"Well," he purred. "It looks like I will have to pull off this Plan on my own. And as for you…" Lucius shuddered. This could not be good. "Looks like I will have to rescind your reward, Mr. Malfoy."
And with that, he picked up his Trembling Servant and flung him against the farthest wall with a very satisfying thud.