CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Answers

"She must be Potter's bloody Muggle girlfriend? How nauseating. Oh, I would love to kill her and tear them apart forever, but I'm afraid I'll have to hold off on that. The evidence must be presented to the Dark Lord…"

Malfoy was talking, but Harry wasn't listening. Eva… How could she be? Was it possible? Was she really Lucius Malfoy's daughter? He was shaking inside. Enraged. The "evidence" Lucius Malfoy was trying to dispose of was evidence of his affair with a Muggle.

The look of disgust on his face was the reaction Draco had been looking for. "I know, sir. A Muggle. How revolting. That is why the Dark Lord must know. He must know that my father betrayed his pure blood and tainted it with the blood of a Muggle."

Draco was looking at him like it was his turn to speak, but Harry didn't know what to say. "H-how did they see you?" he managed to choke out.

"Since my father took Kreacher back from Lord Voldemort, he had him send me back to Hogwarts using a different house-elf. He could only break the seal on that particular floor—I was lucky I didn't apparate in a wall somewhere. I ended up appearing right on the same floor as the two of them."

"Kreacher?" Harry questioned. But Kreacher was dead. Malfoy pushed him into an oven last summer. Unless that was just what he wanted Harry to believe. He must have known that Harry would pass it on to Dumbledore and other people opposing Voldemort. Clever bastard. Harry now realized that even with his lessons from Tonks, he had no idea what a house-elf was capable of.

"My father took him back after he returned. That damn house-elf was all to anxious to serve him. I was going to offer him to the Dark Lord for my loyalty, but now I must find something else." He paused. "I believe I'll give him our potion."

Harry vaguely remembered seeing Malfoy discussing the potion with Voldemort. He said something about how someone couldn't remember one of the ingredients.

"But the ingredients…" Harry began.

"I've got them. It took two deliveries and a stupid barn owl but I've got what I need. Unless you're holding out on me, professor."

Then, without warning, Harry was suddenly dragged into another memory of Malfoy's subconscious.

"The trap is set, my Lord. The next time we meet, he will not know what hit him."

Draco spoke with such confidence and bravery. He had no doubt that this would finally secure his place in the Death Eater circle. A potion that did the impossible and a turning in a traitor in the Death Eaters' midst. He ought to be promoted in no time.

"Ignorant boy, do not think that this will win me over. I have known all along that he is a traitor. It is only now that I find it is a suitable time to dispose of him."

Voldemort's voice sent chills down Harry's spine. Who was the traitor they were speaking of? Could it possibly be Snape, the one who Malfoy had called his patriarch? If he trusted Snape and then found out about his double-spying for the Order, would he turn him in?

Of course he would, Harry realized, now consciously back in the common room with Malfoy. He wouldn't hesitate to turn anyone in, flesh and blood or respected patriarch.

And whatever this potion was, it had caused a lot of trouble for Malfoy to make. His words from an earlier conversation with Voldemort echoed in Harry's mind:

"I have seen it. I have touched it. He has told me how to create and use it. There is only one part he is not sure of, and that part I can figure out on my own."

He didn't need the potions master anymore. "So do you believe you have it all figured out, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, sir. I do," Malfoy replied. Harry could tell that he was smug about something. He wasn't lying to Snape. He was cocky. Arrogant. He was going to turn him in.

Harry nodded. His head was aching. He couldn't take anymore tonight. Eva was Lucius Malfoy's daughter. Malfoy was making potions that did the impossible. Kreacher was still alive. Snape was going to be found out.

He turned away from Malfoy, wanting to retreat from this battle of the minds, but Draco shouted after him.

"Professor," he said, "what should I do about Potter and my father's evidence?"

Harry whirled around. "Don't tell anyone," he snapped. "Do not speak of it to a soul. Not even to me." Malfoy looked confused. "Not until we're ready," he added.

He seemed to accept these words of advice. Feeling positively wretched, Harry left the Slytherin common room and went back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where he waited until he could turn back into himself.

Harry felt sick. Poor Eva. Is this what she was talking about when she said that there were things Harry needed to know? How could someone so beautiful be related to the Malfoys? Could the woman he loved really be their flesh and blood?

He had to report to Dumbledore, but he just didn't have the strength. But he couldn't sleep, not when he still felt so disgusting. He brought Snape's cloak back to the staff bathroom and threw it inside. Moaning Myrtle had been instructed to flood the bathroom to dispose of any evidence that the robe had been tampered with.

Harry went to the boys' room and showered. He ached for Eva. He had gotten the answers, but they were not what he wanted. Now she had some explaining to do.

By the time Harry had scrubbed himself impossibly clean, it was daybreak. He didn't want to wait another moment before telling Dumbledore everything he'd found out. Well, almost everything.

When he went to Dumbledore's office, it took awhile for the headmaster to let him in. Harry was sure that he'd woken the headmaster up and apologized profusely, but he just didn't know where to go. Dumbledore had taken the time to use the spell that covered the portraits. Dumbledore quickly ushered him into the back room where they could not be seen or heard. He must have known that Harry was coming.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry apologized again. "I just have to tell you everything while it's still fresh in my mind."

"You did the right thing, Harry. Do I dare ask how? Did you use the Polyjuice potion?" After Harry nodded, Dumbledore seemed to notice how on edge he was. "You must have found someone Mr. Malfoy trusts a great deal."

Harry swallowed back bile in his throat. He could still taste the potion. But Dumbledore did not press any further for details of how he pulled it off. With a wave of his wand, he produced two cups of tea and placed one in front of Harry. Harry took a gulp. Anything to get the taste out of his mouth.

When Dumbledore seemed to be satisfied that he was drinking the tea, the headmaster sat back in his chair and folded his long, bony fingers in his lap. "What have you come to report, Harry?"

Harry suddenly didn't know where to begin. He opened his mouth and everything came out at once. "Kreacher is alive, and Voldemort knows Snape is a traitor, and Malfoy's got some kind of potion that does impossible things…"

"Slow down. First things first," Dumbledore said soothingly. "What is this about Kreacher?"

"Malfoy told us that he killed Kreacher at the beginning of school year. But really, he claimed Kreacher for himself after his father was sent to Azkaban. He then gave the house-elf to Voldemort as a bargaining chip to become a Death Eater." Harry paused, thoughtfully. Perhaps the tea was making him think more clearly. "Are house-elves really that powerful? Can they really do all of that ancient magic? Malfoy said that a house-elf got him back to Hogwarts from wherever he was for his meeting with Voldemort."

"Harry, Hogwarts has many impenetrable defenses, but I'm afraid that anyone can get almost anywhere with a house-elf." Dumbledore looked slightly worried as he explained. "The house-elves that we have working here do more than cook and clean. They protect this entire place as well. They are very powerful beings."

Harry let the information sink in. He wondered if Hermione had read that in Hogwarts: A History. "When Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban, he came and took Kreacher back because the elf wasn't really Malfoy's to give. So Malfoy said that he was offering Voldemort two things to replace it: a potion that does the impossible and a traitor."

When Dumbledore didn't respond, Harry continued. "I don't know what the potion is. From what I can piece together from other visions I've had from Malfoy, I know that he got it from Snape, but Snape said… He said that you destroyed the ingredient list. Malfoy had to find out himself what the ingredients were.

"One of the ingredients had to be a special order. It could only be delivered by dragon, and he could only handle it with dragon-hide gloves. It was a substance from the black market—as far as Hermione can tell—so he had to have it delivered anonymously to Hogwarts. That's why he had to get the owls out of the Owlery. So Draco made the deal with Michael Corner for the… the love potion."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. Harry felt some excitement. Finally, he was able to piece some of his visions together to form a complete picture. Dumbledore must know what the potion is if he's the one who destroyed the ingredients list. However, he made no move to explain.

"He also said he was setting a trap for a traitor. He was so smug with me, I am almost certain it's Snape," Harry said, lost in thought. "Voldemort said that he already knew that this man was a traitor. He was speaking of the same man who Malfoy called his patriarch. At first, I thought it was his father. But now… It might be Snape." Harry shook his head. "I'm really not sure, professor. Malfoy seems to think that both his father and Snape are traitors. One of them is headed for a trap at the next Death Eater meeting."

"You've certainly learned a lot from Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied. He began stroking his beard, and Harry could tell that his time with the headmaster was over. It was his thinking time.

Harry suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He was also grateful that Dumbledore hadn't asked why Malfoy thought his father was a traitor. Perhaps there was no need to explain the hatred in that family. He didn't have the voice to speak of his sudden knowledge of Eva's origin.

"Harry, the Order and I greatly appreciate all that you've done. You have been indispensable. I know that these assignments have taken a great toll on you and strained your relationships with your friends. Let me give you permission to relax. The Order will be busy for a while with all of the information you've given us. We are grateful for everything."

Harry drained the last of his tea as Dumbledore continued. "Harry, I'd like you to take the rest of the week off. No Legilimency, no detentions. Now, please, return to your dormitory and sleep for what few precious hours of the night are left."

He didn't need telling twice. Harry got up from his chair, groggy and aloof, and thanked Dumbledore. He left the back room and went straight out the Headmaster's office. Still reeling from the information, he made it back to the common room simply by instinct. He was so tired that he didn't bother going back to his dormitory and simply passed out on the sofa in the common room.

The next time Harry opened his eyes, there was a gray tiger-striped kitten kneading his chest with its paws, purring affectionately. Sunlight filled the common room, but from the clock on the wall, Harry could see that he'd only been asleep for a few hours. Yet he felt as though he'd slept the entire night. Had it all been a dream? Some horrible nightmare?

He was suddenly aware that the kitten was not the only one in the room. Nora was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, scribbling away on a piece of parchment. She looked up at Harry when he saw her.

"Alley likes you. She doesn't sleep with anyone else but me," she said. "And Eva."

Harry took the kitten into his arms and sat up. Alley didn't like his changed position and hopped down from the sofa. "What are you doing up?" Harry asked.

"I have to finish an assignment for Flitwick. I completely forgot about it."

He yawned. "Need any help?"

She shook her head. "I'm almost done. I stayed up late last night and finished most of it."

The common room was silent except for Nora's scribbling. Because they were alone, he had to ask. "Nora, do you know anything about Eva's father?" Harry took a deep breath and braced himself for a response.

Nora glanced up at him, looking confused. "Not really. Mum said that he was dead. If you'd want to know more, you'd have to ask her." She went back to her paper. "You know, it's her birthday Friday. She'll be eighteen."

Harry nodded. "I know."

"I'm glad my birthday is during the summer," Nora continued. "Then I can always spend it with Eva. I really miss her."

"I really miss her, too," Harry replied. It was true. At first, he hadn't known how to feel about the fact that Eva was Lucius Malfoy's daughter. She couldn't help who she was born to or who her family was—Harry knew that all too well. Eva was still the same amazing girl who he loved with all his heart. It didn't matter if she was a Malfoy or a Longbottom. He would love her just the same. And even though he'd just seen her the day before, he felt a void inside of him. It felt like weeks had past since he held her in his arms. He wanted to be with her everyday. He had always felt close to Ron and Hermione and even Sirius. But his relationship with Eva was different. He loved her.

"Nora, how would you like to see Eva on her birthday?"

Nora's eyes lit up. "I'd love to! But how?"

Harry grinned. "There's a trip to Hogsmeade on Friday. I'll find a way to smuggle you in."

Harry stumbled through his classes the rest of the day. He vaguely remembered Dumbledore giving him the week off. His thoughts were on Eva all day. McGonagall had even threatened him with an extra assignment because of his lack of attention in Transfiguration, but he didn't even have the energy to argue with her. She noticed his state of mind and gave him a warning, but he was dangerously close to spending his free time in the library looking up advanced simultaneous transfigurement of multiple inanimate objects.

He explained to Ron and Hermione what he'd found out from Malfoy the night before—all but the information about Eva's mum. Hermione was overjoyed that Kreacher was alive, until she realized what he was used for. She seemed to have mixed feelings now that she knew how powerful house-elves were.

"It's the strangest thing," Ron said, after hearing what Harry had to say, "but I remember Charlie talking about an "impossible potion" when we were kids. I don't know what kind of potion, though. I just remember that it was impossible."

Harry frowned. That was no help. "Do you think you could write Charlie a letter and ask?"

Ron nodded. "No harm in asking."

"We can all go to the library and look up impossible potions, too," Hermione said. "There's a few volumes on hypothetical potions that do impossible things in the Restricted Section."

"How would you know?" Ron asked.

Hermione produced a permission slip from her pocket. "Professor Leurre wrote me a note. I've been studying up on restricted books all term. It's been fascinating."

Ron grunted. "I bet. So what do you say? Should we have an old-fashioned research session tonight? Just like in the old days?"

"I'm going to see Eva tonight," Harry said.

"But Harry, you just saw her the other day," Hermione interrupted.

"There's something I've got to ask her."

"I don't think you should see her for a few days," Ron said. "Especially not tonight. I mean, did you look at her? Really look at her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, I hate to be the one tell you this," Ron said, glancing at Hermione, "but Eva looked like she was practically dying. The full moon was only two nights ago. You've got to give her time to get back on her feet. How do you even know she's back in Hogsmeade? What if she's with my parents or Remus?"

Harry didn't want to believe Ron. He needed to see her now. He had to ask her if it was really true—if she was really Lucius Malfoy's daughter. He could use the Moon Guide to see where she was, but he couldn't deny that she was still extremely weak.

He sighed. "You're right. I'm in. But how is that note going to get all three of us in the Restricted Section?"

Hermione looked at Harry guiltily. "It already has all three of our names on it. I told Professor Leurre it was for D.A. It was just so peaceful being in there without the two of you," she said, not looking at Ron. "I guess I shouldn't have kept it a secret until now."

Ron seemed to be mentally putting pieces together. So that was why she's never around anymore.

Harry coughed, hoping that it would somehow drown out his best friend's thought that he had interpreted by accident. "It's okay, Hermione. We didn't need it until now."

"Here's one that makes people to speak backwards," Ron said, holding up a book called, Potion: Impossible. "But the potion actually exists. I remember one time the twins got a hold of it so that they could only speak and understand each other."

"I think we need to go further into the unknown," Hermione said. "We should probably be looking more into potion theory. I mean, if the list of ingredients was in one of these books," she gestured to the pile of books containing both legal and illegal odd potions on the table, "Malfoy would have no problem getting into the restricted section and finding out what the final ingredient is himself."

"And we don't even know what the ingredients are," Ron added. "I mean, we know what substance Michael gave Malfoy to get the owls out of the Owlery, but we don't even know what kind of ingredients he was trying to get, only that it can't be touch by human flesh."

"That's true," Harry agreed. "We shouldn't be looking at complete potion recipes. It's got to be a potion that no regular wizard really knows about. We need to find the most valuable theoretical potion that would benefit Voldemort the most. That would most likely be the potion that Malfoy has." He got up form his seat and ventured to a different bookcase.

The librarian, Madam Pince, tiptoed quietly by the restricted section and scowled at the mess the trio had made. Hermione whispered an incantation, and the spines of the books lit up and then flew onto the bookcase in their original order.

Harry took out what few books he could find about non-existent potions. A Plethora of Potions: Your Guide to the Unknown and Are Potions the Key to Immortality? Ron came over to him and grabbed the book next to him about potions theory. "There's not a lot here."

"Three books for three curious students," Hermione said. Harry gave her the Plethora of Potions book. "I guess there aren't a lot books on the subject."

"Too bad we can't get a closer look at Snape's personal library," Ron said, plopping down in one of the creaky library chairs.

"We were lucky I could even get the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione replied. "He has definitely upped his security since the last time we made it. I don't think it would be easy to get into his books."

Harry studied his two friends thoughtfully. "I always did like a challenge. But let's see what we can find here first." He opened his book about immortality and began scanning the pages.

It was only a few minutes before Ron looked up in disgust. "Harry, these potions are… they're evil." He gulped. "I mean, every single one mentions needing some live human body part or even an entire corpse. It's like a book of wizarding experimentation… on Muggles."

Harry was scanning his own pages. There were many theoretical potions talking about souls and life forces and other things, but nothing mentioned using Muggles. "Let me see."

Ron handed him the book. The pages were illustrated with gruesome torture scenes. Dementors were sucking out the souls of Muggles and dark wizards were capturing them before they could be absorbed by the horrible creatures. Muggles were being drained for their blood or certain tissues or organs were being harvested.

Harry felt like he was about to be sick. "I don't think… I don't think Malfoy… I would have seen if it was something like this. I didn't even realize these kinds of potions existed."

"Well, they don't," Hermione said. "They're only hypothetical." As Harry flipped through the pages, he certainly hoped so. Otherwise everyone—including Muggles—would be in danger.

"I can't imagine what Malfoy and Voldemort would want with a potion that replaces all the blood in someone's body yet still keeps them alive," Ron said with a shiver.

"Replaced the blood with what?" Hermione asked glancing at the book Harry was holding.

Harry flipped a few pages. "Anything." There were illustrations of Muggles—he guessed they were Muggles because they wore normal clothing—who were filled with various substances from liquid gold to Caribbean rum. He wanted to put the book down, but he was too stunned and curious to not keep reading. The dark side of the wizarding world had just turned an even blacker shade. He needed to know what he was up against.

"There are quite a few potions on how to cause a long and miserable death," Harry continued. Ron and Hermione had stopped looking through the other two books and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. "One of them shows a picture of a dragon. He's carrying some kind of plant thing." He pointed to an illustration of a fire-breathing dragon with what looked like a small tree in its clutches. Harry turned the page and gasped at what he saw. There was a human body of a wizard who was standing upright with a dagger in his chest and a smile on his face. His eyes were black. "A potion to make the dead walk again." It reminded Harry of zombies from horror movies. He flipped the page. "A potion to make a werewolf stay a werewolf permanently." He shivered.

"You're sure these don't exist?" Ron asked quietly.

"I hope not," Harry replied. "I think our best bet is that Malfoy is after some way to kill people."

"Do you really think he could do it?" Ron questioned. "Could he really kill someone?"

"He lied about Kreacher," Hermione said. "I bet he's all talk. Just a coward."

"Malfoy is a coward," Harry interjected, "but he's also a murderer." He said it so seriously that both Ron and Hermione studied him with solemn eyes.

"Is there something you know that we don't?" Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated. He was tired of keeping secrets from Ron and Hermione, but he wasn't sure it was his place to tell them about what he knew. "You'll find out soon enough. Just trust me. Draco Malfoy is not above murder."