Scabbed Wings

Harry apparated running outside the gate of Godric's Hollow. He tore down the black path, with trees too thick to see the moon and by some miracle of instinct and magic he found his way through the darkness. His heart pounded through his robes when he began to see the lights of the castle dot through the leaves and smelled the damp lake.

Thousands of thoughts racing through his mind, none acceptable to him. Harry stopped dead, skidding in the dirt. Something was wrong. He could see the castle, he was less than 50 metres away, but Harry could tell, something had happened. Some slight error in the appearance of the property.

'GINNY, RON, HERMIONE!' he yelled, the words blending together.

He jogged to the door carefully. He had felt like this before, both greatly craving opening the door and being absolutely terrified to do so. Harry pressed the door open.

Where he had felt like this before was immediately evident.

The walls bled black, the paintings were deformed, scarred and the air was thick with a tangible misery. The entire castle was cursed. Like he had seen in his former nursery, where his mother was killed, now that disease had engulfed his home.

'…No,' Harry whispered in the chocking dark, illuminated only by the moon out side the door. His wand lit without command.

Each step he took further in, deeper into the darkness, it became harder to breathe.

'…Ginny…Ron…Hermione,' he tried again.

Harry turned a corner, desperately praying not to see anyone or anything. His heart was in his throat. Only his feet on the stone floor making a sound. His adrenaline raced with fear and the eerie shadows wavered as his wand shock. He turned another corner; there were dark figures on the ground at the other end of the hallway.

He didn't breathe. Harry wanted to wake up.

They were motionless, only two though… what had happened to- Harry stopped, he wouldn't let himself think that. Each step, the figures became clearer through the thick air. He knelt next to them.

'Smithy… Cheshire?'

House elves, Harry thought with relief, not them. Harry knew he would be relieved at anyone but his friends lying there dead. But they weren't dead. They were alive, Harry could sense it.

He took their thin hands in his and thought, Vigoratus. The blue magic oozed into them. Slowly, large eyes squinted up at Harry.

'Master Potter,' one whispered in a croaky voice, 'Miss Gran-'

'Are they ok?' Harry said as the other house elf awoke.

'Taken,' said Smithy, 'alive, Master Potter we tried to-'

'Never mind that now, who, where?'

'…The Death Eaters…'

'…We don't know where,' said the other house elf, 'the D-Death Eaters-'

Harry stood up. He had to track down the Death Eaters. He had to be the one to offend Voldemort this time. He levitated both elves behind him as he ran, setting them down outside the castle. He ran past the gates, beyond the anti-appartion wards and disappeared with a loud crack.

He fell into the bushes outside Saint Mungo's. He had an idea. A stupid and reckless idea, yes, but there wasn't time for anything else. Without care for secrecy or quiet, he found his crowbar and wrenched the window open again. The window slammed shut. Harry didn't care, he didn't care if the Minister of Magic showed up and pointed his wand at him, time was passing.

Noisily, he bounded up the stairs to Malfoy's room. He paused anxiously outside the door, no auror this time. Nothing. He opened the door and went to Malfoy's bedside. He was lying in the same condition he had been in hours ago.

Harry pulled the sleeve off his arm, the ugly Dark Mark staring directly at him. The tip of his wand transformed into a razor-sharp knife and Harry twisted Malfoy's arm in an unnatural angle to get a better grip.

'Stop right there!' said a voice from behind him.

Harry's energy jumped with urgency. He quickly cast a look behind him, Williamson again. In Harry's panic, he hadn't properly sensed the room for invisible people.

'I can't!' Harry said through gritted teeth, 'keep away from me,' he warned. He pressed the knife to Malfoy's pale skin, carving a deep wound that stained the sheets crimson.

'Stup-'

Harry shut down the auror's attempt without any effort.

He repositioned his knife to make a second cut, a leaking 'L' shape in his skin, which was quickly coated with blood. The auror bounded to him and tried to pull him away from Malfoy by the back of his neck. Harry whirled around, disregarding his instinct to use the knife on the auror, and pushed Williamson to the floor.

'Stupefy,' Harry yelled, the auror dodged the red light that shot from Harry's knife tip.

'Stupefy,' the auror said back, Harry ducked.

'Specelum,' Harry yelled. The auror's wand twisted in his hand just before he yelled, 'Stupefy,' again and he fell to the floor unconscious.

Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Ran through Harry's head.

He ignored the auror and tried not to think about how many wards and alarms he had just triggered. He positioned the knife on Malfoy's badly bleeding arm again. He made two more cuts, surrounding the dark mark in a lop-sided square.

He slid the knife under the boy's flesh and Harry gagged slightly. He pulled the bleeding skin from its place, lifting it dripping with the side of the knife. He laid it down on the already-blood-soaked sheets.

Harry took Malfoy's bloodied wrist, 'Vigatorus,' he whispered, hearing people running towards the room. Malfoy's wound knitted shut, making a pristinely white, new patch of skin at the centre of the bloody mess.

Harry's eyes lingered on the flesh he had just cut from Malfoy with the Dark Mark seared into it.

Ginny, Ron, Hermione.

There was nothing else for it. He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and gingerly wrapped the dark mark in it, then hesitantly put it in his pocket. As Harry slipped out of Malfoy's disarranged room, and successfully eluded the aurors running to check on Williamson, he felt the flesh warm in his pocket.

He ran to the safety of the empty streets and found a dark alley, where Harry stopped. He took the flesh out; he could feel it throbbing angrily, unnaturally. Harry gagged again when he unwrapped the tissue. He had been right. Harry had known since Regulus mentioned to him that Voldemort had grated off his Dark Mark that it must mean the flesh under it was enchanted, even surviving death… and, possibly… detaching.

Wormtail was of no use in his current state. Harry needed to find Voldemort. The voice in his head was now shouting the names of his friends at him. Harry pulled up his own sleeve and gingerly placed Malfoy's skin upon his, some of the blood smearing. Harry coughed again, choking on the idea of what he had done.

Harry felt it burn softly. He pressed his thumb to the skull and felt the familiar squeeze of apparation. The alley dissolved around him with a crack.

As Harry reappeared, knowing nothing but that he had been pulled somewhere different, a metre, a mile, he had no idea, his mind lingered on both how amazing and how dangerous it was to apparate without knowing where he'd end up.

His eyes adjusted to the new light as he pulled Malfoy's Dark Mark from his arm and put it back in the tissue, Harry readied his wand. He was in a building, somewhere. He was in a room lit by torches and decorated darkly with a small window overlooking a city street.

He had been there before.

Harry looked around quickly; he had been in this room many times. He and Ron shared a room down the hall, Buckbeak was to the left, Mrs. Black was…

12 Grimmauld Place.

But… how was it possible… it was his property?

Harry's scar began to sting numbly. He moved towards the door, he had to find Voldemort, to find his friends. His hand was on the door handle when Harry noticed someone standing in the shadowy corner with his wand trained on him.

'You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?' Lucius Malfoy said in a cold drawl as he stepped from the shadows.

Harry wasn't afraid anymore. He held out his wand, hand first, towards Malfoy. And, without a blink or shutter of fear, said: 'Take me to him.'

The older Malfoy, his cheeks much more hollow and his skin much greyer than Harry remembered, disarmed Harry and pocketed his wand. Harry's eyes were steady, almost alarmingly so.

'He's been expecting you.'

Draco Malfoy wished someone would turn off the damn music. This was not the tea shop; there was no reason and no one there who wanted to hear elves sing muggle Christmas songs. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body; the draft chilled his skin anyway.

'…and on the forth day of Christmas…'

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Black was late. Draco's head rested against the stone wall behind him, he was exhausted but far too threatened to sleep in such a public area.

The Hog's Head bartender was scrubbing a table by the fire and eyeing Draco. He knew he had been sitting there too long without ordering something, but there was little he could do about it now. He didn't even have 12 knuts for some Goblin Grey Goose and the poverty was beginning to really annoy him.

'…fi-ve gold-en rings…'

His eyes were heavy, they began to droop and his stomach growled loudly under his robes. Draco lay his head down on the table in front of him and his eyes began to close.

A gust of frozen wind woke him a moment later, Draco jumped as the heavy door opened and closed as Regulus Black entered. He sat up straight.

'Draco,' Black acknowledged, tilting his head to the teenager and brushing snow off his robes.

'You're late,' Draco hissed.

'Yeah…' Black said uncaring and distracted, 'why don't we sit closer to the fire?' Regulus said, surveying the bar but still keeping his hood up.

Regulus left Draco's table and sat at the one the bar tender had just finished scrubbing. Draco seethed for a moment before reluctantly joining him; he was in no place to bargain.

'It must be a new vintage trend or something,' Regulus said to Draco as he sat down, 'because it's amazing how many teenage girls remember the Hob Goblins.'

'If you were late because you were out sha-' Draco began.

'Why don't I get us something warm to drink?' Regulus cut him off and approached the bar.

Draco had had enough. All he wanted to do was find Potter and make a deal with him or McGonagall or whoever the bloody hell was in charge these days. He imagined though, he might have a better chance with Potter than with McGonagall. He shouldn't. Their rivalry, the terms of Dumbledore's death, but for whatever reason, Draco could just feel Potter would understand Dumbledore's hopes better.

'…on the tenth day of Christmas…'

Regulus returned to the table with two steaming mugs. He carefully placed one in front of Malfoy and drank from the other.

'No wonder my brother was going crazy,' Regulus said, 'hell of a place to stay. There's absolutely nothing to do, I found buckets and buckets of cleaning supplies though so I imagine it was worst in his day.'

'Did you talk to him?' Draco asked, he drank though it burned his tongue and tasted sour.

'Who?' Regulus said.

Draco slammed his mug down on the table. He was in no mood for this.

'You know who,' Draco hissed quietly.

'What's he got to do with anything?' Regulus smirked, clearly enjoying Draco's desperation.

'I could just cancel this whole thing,' Draco spat, 'I'll just go to McGonagall on my own and it's not like Potter is missing anymore.'

'All right, all right, calm down kid but do you really think McGonagall could protect you from the Dark Lord without Harry?' Regulus took a long sip from his mug. Draco did the same. Really a very vile drink, 'yeah, I talked to him.'

'And?'

'And he's going to meet you.'

Draco would have smiled, if he wasn't broke, cold, miserable and thoroughly displeased with how this all had resolved itself. He was going to turn. He was going to become what he hated. There was no place for him anywhere now, but it was less likely that the Order of the Phoenix was going to torture him to death.

'…four calling birds…'

Someone knocked loudly on the door twice before pushing it open violently. Draco pulled up his hood and sank in his chair just in time. Regulus had also hidden his face behind his mug. Only an official would knock before entering.

'What?' growled the bartender.

'There's been an attack at the school,' said a new voice, 'Hogsmeade is locking down. No one will be leaving the town tonight and you are required by law to report any suspicious wizards to the-'

'Suspicious wizards department? Right? Have you ever been in here before? Seen my customers?' the bartender yelled, apparently not happy at the intrusion.

'Rig- well, aurors will be at Three Broomsticks and if you need any assistance or need to rep-'

'Yeah, yeah,' said the bartender.

There was a pause and the ministry official shut the door as powdery snow settled on the inside of the pub. The bartender groaned as Malfoy and Regulus took off their hoods and put down their mugs.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Malfoy's stomach. His steely eyes shot daggers at Regulus.

'That was you!' he hissed venomously, leaning over the table, 'you didn't talk to him! You attacked someone!'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Regulus said with a smile.

Draco pounded his fist on the table, shaking the drinks.

'You worthless squib! Couldn't even control yourself long enough to get in there! Couldn't even remember the first time! That's it! I won't tell you where he is! Like the Dark Lord would take a squib anyway!' Malfoy yelled, jumping up from the table, knocking his chair over behind him.

'…three French hens…'

'Sit down,' Regulus said calmly.

Draco pulled out his wand. He was finished. He didn't even care anymore.

The bar tender had disappeared into a stock room, but he wouldn't stop a duel anyway.

'Put down your wand Draco, I've got to take you back to your mother tonight, she wouldn't like it if I had to stun you first,' Regulus said, taking another sip, 'why don't you finish your drink?'

'What? My mother? What does she have to do with anything?' Draco said, his wand shaking but whether it was from Regulus's words or the cold, he didn't know.

'You think you've been deceiving the Death Eaters,' Regulus took another sip, 'but you were wrong. I think it would be much more convenient to kill you but my cousin wants you alive and I don't want to get rid of the latest link in the Malfoy chain, even if it is a weak one.'

Draco's wand shook more violently. It was impossible. It was all too impossible. He couldn't… they wouldn't have… how could it have…

'No…' he said.

'Like I said, put down your wand, there's no point, it's all finished,' Regulus stated, 'definitely finish your drink though. The Dark Lord isn't happy with you; I don't know where you'll end up… I doubt there will be free alcohol there though.'

Draco cast a look back, the bartender still wasn't around.

'Crucio!' he yelled at Regulus.

The curse sputtered and died in sparks after leaving his wand.

'And that's being powerless,' Regulus said without looking up, 'fun, isn't it?'

Draco looked down in horror at his hands and wand. That only happened when a wizard wasn't powerful enough to cast a curse, and he knew he was.

'Handy stuff, that Doxycide. It actually just makes them temporarily powerless, easier to get rid of that way, works on humans too… makes the body brittle though, so be careful.'

A man and his daughter who had been sitting in a table behind a decrepit Christmas tree dashed out the door. Draco thought he recognized her but neither were of any use to him now.

'…two turtledoves…'

'Draco,' Regulus said, 'one last chance. Finish your drink. I'll even chip in for some fermented soy beans, I hear they're pushing them as a new bar snack, never tried them myself, sounds horrid, but those Chinese wizards have been eat-'

'Crucio!' he tried again.

The curse dissolved.

Regulus sighed. There was nothing left. Draco tried to turn to run.

'It's like this, crucio!' Regulus said from his seat.

The curse caught Draco by the ankle. Every inch of his skin tore and pulled at his tissue, his nerve endings screamed as he did. The curse was lifted. He was on the ground, his mouth full of blood from where he had bitten through his tongue.

'I didn't want to do that, but you seemed so desperate to see it cast sometime tonight and you're not going to be able to for a while.'

Draco choked on blood as he tried to get to his knees. Regulus pried him up by his arm and pulled him back to his seat, holding tightly to his shoulder. He had never felt the curse that strong before, it had to be Voldemort's power.

'I'm just borrowing the power; Voldemort says once we've got Potter and get rid of Ollivander I'll be able to get my own back. I'm borrowing the wand too.'

'Traitor!' Draco said through blood, trying to get free of Regulus's grasp.

'A bit rich coming from you, don't you think?'

Regulus hit Draco with another curse and he fell to the ground, barely conscious. He felt his arm crumple beneath him and the table fall behind him, the drink spilling to the floor.

'Leave the kid alone,' Draco heard the bartender growl at Regulus. His eyes shut with pain, he couldn't move, his muscles had dissolved.

He heard Regulus laugh. Please, Draco thought, using a word he would never dream to say, let him leave. Let that Ministry wizard return.

His eyes squinted open for a moment, he the bartender with his wand aimed at Regulus. He looked terrifying, powerful, like Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore, it had to be. Draco's eyes shut again before he could see Aberforth Dumbledore force Regulus out and back to his master a success but to his cousin as a failure.

'...And a partridge in a pear tree...'

The room was different than Harry remembered, darker.

And in the darkness, and in the room, which tasted of despair. Voldemort was waiting for him. His crimson eyes looked triumphant as Harry entered. Harry's green eyes quivered and he desperately wished they wouldn't because he could hear Ginny screaming nearby…

AN: Will you look at that. I actually updated. Reality really is stranger than fiction. Thank you so much to everyone who reviews. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

puppy eyes I'll dust off that old chestnut…

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One more, REVIEW!