Draco closed his eyes against the brightness of the moon, then immediately reopened them and let the silver moonlight sweep over him. It was clear and cleansing. He breathed in, filling his lungs with cool fresh air, letting it wash away the thick gloom of the cave. Once again he was surprised by how huge the moon could be, looming, a perfect circle, just above the horizon. Goyle, Sr. was picking at his nails, oblivious to the moon and much else.
Draco turned his attention to Dolohov.
"The wolfsbane grows in bits along this old railway line. The whole area's warded." With no word of farewell, Dolohov disappeared.
Draco frowned at the older man. He needed to get to the Summers Estate. He was going to have to confound Goyle, probably need to put him under the Imperius, too. This was no time for half-measures. He had to be careful though. If he went too soon the others would know that he'd shirked his duties. Enough time had to pass that there was at least a credible possibility that they'd thoroughly scouted the area. How long was that? If he'd cared about determining that no one would come from the Order of the Phoenix tonight, he'd have to stay, watching from some hidden spot until the moon set. That was not going to happen.
"I don't see no railway tracks." Goyle frowned at the empty pathway that headed off into a grove of trees.
"The tracks are gone. The railway line's been closed down for a long time. We should probably split up and each take a different direction."
Goyle looked at Draco wide-eyed. What kind of coward was he?
"Methinks we should stick together. I'm . . . I'm not so sure what the stuff looks like." Goyle mumbled his words, as though he could hide their content even while he spoke them.
Draco sighed. He could work with that. It wasn't like he'd have to ambush Goyle. The man wouldn't know a reflex if it introduced itself. "I'll show you as soon as we find some." They took off walking toward the trees.
Draco frowned at the pathway. This was not good. If they were just there to check on an isolated patch of wolfsbane then they could say that it had already been picked, that some sheep had eaten it, something. But no – they had an entire stretch of railway line. There was no way they could credibly claim that they knew it was all gone. Besides, it was poisonous. Even sheep wouldn't eat it.
"Um, . . . ya do know what the . . . what the wolfsbane looks like, then?" Goyle didn't look at him, trying far too hard to be casual about his question.
"Yes. It has tall stems, blue flowers. Sometimes the flowers are . . . nevermind. Just look for blue flowers. They grow in clumps at the top of the stem. They'll be glowing a bit in the moonlight." How many of the Death Eaters had rushed off, afraid to let anyone know that they had no clue what they were looking for.
Was there any way that they could claim they'd seen someone picking the flowers, that whoever it was had gotten away? Not if they wanted to survive the night. There was a time when Draco might have grabbed a muggle, done some confounding so he'd think he was a wizard or some such. Of course, if he were still inclined to do such things he'd hardly be looking for a way to go help Hermione. Not to mention that a muggle couldn't be passed off as a wizard for any length of time, at least not a live one.
"Is that it there?" Goyle had stooped over and was studying a patch of blue flowers.
"No, no. Those blooms are single, not in clumps, and the stems are too short. Look for tall stems." Draco labored to keep his voice neutral, not annoyed. A riled up and defensive Goyle would just be harder to handle.
What would Hermione want him to do? She wouldn't want anyone innocent to suffer. Did that include Goyle? He was a thug, but basically just a brainless follower of the Dark Lord or anyone else who gave decent orders for that matter.
If Hermione were here, could she think of something? Could she . . . .Wait. What if Hermione were here? Or at least if he could convince the Dark Lord that he'd seen her again, had another vision? That would adequately explain why he hadn't been searching for wolfsbane to guard. It wouldn't explain stopping by the Summers Estate on the way home . . . unless . . . unless he had a vision and she told him to go there. That would work. Could he get her to say that to him? It would just take a minute? As long as she was still there, as long as she was still okay.
Draco stopped. Being audacious had worked before. He needed to get to Blaise's. He owed it to both Blaise and Hermione to help them out if they were in trouble. Given that Dolohov and Greyback were on their way to the Summers Estate, they probably were, although Zabini did have good wards. Even if the others could somehow get in, they couldn't get in without Blaise knowing about it. He'd take care of her, get her out of there as soon as there was danger. Unless . . . Greyback wasn't smart enough to pull off a stealth attack, but Dolohov was. Or he might have covered the grounds with some sort of sealing spell, something that would prevent anyone inside from escaping. Or . . . there were too many things that could happen.
"Petrificus totalus." Goyle froze, then fell heavily over and tumbled a bit down the incline. Draco slid down after him. He needed to be careful here. The Dark Lord would probably use the Prior Incantato on his wand. He had to think about what spells to use. If he had really seen Hermione, it would make sense to petrify Goyle, then to do something to keep him from seeing her. What would he use? A confundus wouldn't be justified, but a sleeping spell would. "Somnolus." There. He was down for the count, just as he would've been if Draco had been having a vision. "Obliviate." That was perfect. If Goyle had seen Hermione, he'd definitely have to be obliviated. There was no way anyone could tell how much, or what, had been obliviated. He actually didn't need to take much, just enough that something was missing.
Now it'd be great if he could disillusion him, leave him hidden here for a while, come back later, but the fewer spells he'd have to explain the better. Better to do this the muggle way. He grabbed one of Goyle's legs and pulled. He was bloody heavy, but Draco got him over to a clump of bushes. That was good enough. It wasn't likely that anyone would be here at all tonight, but if they were they wouldn't see Goyle from the flat railway path.
Time to go. Draco took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He could be apparating into a mess, a battle, anything.
A moment later, Draco stood outside the familiar gates to Blaise's latest home. The gate was ajar, hanging slightly askew off of its hinges. Someone else was already here and they hadn't entered gently. Draco walked slowly up to the gate, hand out, waiting to feel the tingle of the wards, but there was nothing. The wards were down. Hermione was in there. Did she know?
The coin. "Moon. The wards are down. Are you still here?"
Draco stood, listening. He heard voices to his left, over toward the pond. It wasn't far, just visible from the house, but beyond a slight rise in the grounds. He began the hike towards the pond.
"Moon. Yes."
"Moon. You need to go. They are here."
"Moon. Soon."
Why such a short answers? Was she in trouble? He cast a speed spell on his feet and broke into a jog, slipping the coin into his pocket. He didn't need to worry. She wouldn't be outside. She would be inside, with Blaise, working on the wolfsbane potion. Unless she'd needed more wolfsbane. Maybe she'd decided to brew a double batch of the potion, while she could. Then she would've needed more of the plant. If she'd gone outside, obviously there was some growing here. His pace quickened. Surely, Blaise wouldn't have let her go alone, but then, the alarm had been triggered. It could be both of them, Hermione and Blaise. Fenrir had orders not to hurt Hermione, but Blaise? Draco was running full out now, taking deep breaths of the cool night air as he hurried to climb the gradual hillside.
As he came up he could see over the edge of the hillside to the pond where once he and Blaise had splashed and played. Tonight its surface shone like black ice, with the moon's reflection blazing bright on its surface. He paused to gather himself. Dignity would go farther than haste. Dolohov, Fenrir and whatever other Death Eaters were here needed to fear him. He strode down toward the pond, regaining his breath, although his spell still gave speed to his steps.
Fenrir was there, his hair thick and wild in silhouette. Two others stood with him, wands raised over someone, who lay bound and thrashing on the ground. Draco frowned. Whoever that was was too stocky to be Blaise, obviously not Hermione. There was another one, though. Dolohov had someone by the hair. Draco could barely see her. In fact, he wasn't quite sure why he thought it was a female, but he did. There was a stifled whimper. Antonin was being rough with her and Fenrir watched eagerly. In the moonlight Draco could see his feral leer. He hurried the last few steps.
"What have we here?" he called out. Dolohov's head snapped back to look over his shoulder. He'd caught the Russian by surprise.
"We've caught our thieves," Dolohov growled.
"We're not . . . ." Dolohov yanked her head back and she gasped. Draco held his face impassive. It wasn't her. He wasn't sure who it was, but that wasn't Hermione's voice.
"What are you doing here?" Dolohov demanded and, even in the dark, Draco could see the resentment burning in his eyes.
"I have my reasons." The girl glared at him, her hair still fisted in Dolohov's grip. She looked vaguely familiar. Someone from Hogwarts. He didn't remember her name, if he'd ever known it.
"These are ours," snarled Greyback. The gagged one on the ground let out a growl of his own. Draco took a closer look. His bounds were obviously done by a spell, wound evenly and tightly up his torso. Nice spellwork. It must've been Dolohov's, probably triggered when the fool touched the wolfsbane. That one he knew, Longbottom. Great. He wasn't sure about the girl, but Longbottom was definitely a friend of Hermione's. What could he do? There was no way he could . . . .
The burst of light blasted him from his feet, even as his eyes flashed white blind.
A moment later, he lay on the ground. As soon as he'd gotten his breath back, he had to fight back a smile. Hermione. That had been her spell. It'd come from the house, knocked them all completely off their feet.
He turned his head just in time to catch a movement, a blur of color and the pop of apparition. The captives? They were gone now.
He tried to glance around as much as he could inconspicuously. The others didn't look conscious, but just in case there was no point in flaunting the fact that he was the only one not really hurt.
She was an amazing witch. From that distance, she'd taken out four Death Eaters, while knocking him down and then leaving him somehow unharmed. Then, she'd freed her friends. How? There had to be an apparition blocking spell. That was standard protocol. Still, he'd heard it. She must've used Clytie, Blaise's house elf. Maybe Blaise helped, but he'd bet his dragonskin gloves that most of that magic had been hers.
"Uh," Dolohov moaned, sitting up slowly. Draco didn't move. Let Dolohov think he was the only one awake. Maybe he could learn something from what they said to each other while they thought he slept. Still Draco's hand was tight on his wand.
"Renervate." It figures that Dolohov's first concern would be to wake the wolf. "Fenrir?"
The only answer was some sort of snarling bark. Greyback was on his feet in a moment. Draco jumped up, unwilling to be helpless on the ground next to an angry wolf. And the wolf was furious, snapping, drooling, head jerking around he sought his captives with both eyes and nose. He let out an angry howl, head back, face toward the moon, then turned without a word and began bounding toward the house.
"Wait!" Dolohov's voice rang thin as he called after the wolf.
"Vengeance!" was the answering snarl.
The wolf was completely out of control. Draco recast the speed spell and began to chase after him, Dolohov lagging behind until he thought to enchant his own feet. The others they left, still unconscious on the ground.
She'd said "soon." Surely she'd be gone before they reached the castle.
He reached into his pocket, grasping the coin tightly so that he wouldn't lose it as he ran.
"Moon. Go now. Greyback is coming."
"Dolohov!" Draco called to the other man as they ran. "We need a plan. You need to get him under control."
There was no reply from the other man. Of course not. What could he say? They were gaining on Greyback. He was fast but had no speed spell to help him. As they reached the steps of the house, Dolohov called to him again.
"Fenrir, wait." His breath was gasping. "We'll help you. We need to . . . ."
The wolf halted abruptly. He looked back at them over his shoulder, his eyes wild. "It is her. It is her scent."
"Then let's make sure she doesn't escape." Dolohov sent a purple spell that crept quickly up the walls of the manor. "Now they are sealed."
"That didn't work before." Fenrir turned and bounded up the stairs on all fours.
"This spell is different. It doesn't just block apparition. It is a seal."
"Sealing doesn't always work." Fenrir said what Draco was thinking. Dolohov knew he was talking about the night that Voldemort's seal had failed.
"We should use every weapon we have."
Hermione must have gotten a house elf to help her friends escape. Apparition blocks didn't work on them, but a seal was supposed to block everyone and anything, and usually did. They were difficult magic, but Draco had seen the purple light coat the building. Dolohov was a very competent wizard. Could a house elf get past a seal? Draco didn't know. It was never wise to underestimate their power, but . . . .
"Did you see where the spells came from?" Dolohov looked at both Draco and the wolf as he asked. Draco hadn't actually seen the spells at all.
"House. Up high." Unfortunately, apparently Greyback had. At least he didn't say that they'd come from the conservatory. Its glass sides could be seen faintly glinting above the roofline. He did know they came from up high. That wasn't good.
"Let's split up and search the top floors," Draco suggested.
"No," came the guttural reply. "I smell her. I search all."
Draco rolled his eyes ostentatiously at Dolohov. There was no way to dissuade the wolf, who was already yanking on the front door. It didn't yield.
"Stand aside," Dolohov warned, then blasted the door to bits. Apparently they weren't worried about stealth. Greyback dashed into the dust, dodging a block that fell from above the now demolished doorway.
Draco gripped his coin. "Moon. You need to leave. Greyback smells you."
His stomach was tight with tension, as he half-jogged into the house, slower now so that he could think. What could he do? How could he get past Greyback and up to the conservatory? She'd get rid of her scent, just as she'd done before. No! That wouldn't work. The wolf would know she was there if there was no scent at all. He sent her a quick warning.
"Moon. He'll know you're there if there's no scent." He'd gone no more than a few steps when he felt the coin warm with her answer, but there was no way he could look at it with Dolohov right there. He needed to calm himself. Blaise was with her. He'd get her out, somehow. Plus, she wasn't stupid, far from it. She was probably already gone.
He had to check the conservatory, just to make sure. He felt the coin warm again. What was she saying? He needed to ditch Dolohov.
"Antonin, wait." Dolohov looked back at him, slowed his steps just a bit. Greyback was bounding up the grand staircase. He didn't even pause on the first floor, but kept going up. "There's no point chasing after Greyback. He's on a scent, but what if there are others? He doesn't care about them, but we need to find someone to bring back."
That did it. Dolohov halted suddenly. He gave one curt nod. "We should separate. Search this level."
Draco nodded, trying not to think of the risk to Hermione. He'd warned her. She'd be gone. Even if she wasn't, she was ready for them. She'd never let Dolohov take her. Even if he did, they were under orders not to hurt her. Although, once she was in the Dark Lord's hands . . . it didn't matter. She wouldn't be.
"Search every level," Dolohov said. Draco gave his head a quick shake. He was getting distracted. He needed to focus. "I can go right. You go left." Dolohov gestured down a long hallway.
Draco just wanted some privacy to check his coin, make sure that she'd gotten out. He studied the long hallway. It led to a broad foyer, then branched off into three separate halls. Too confusing. He didn't want to keep running into Dolohov. "No," he said. "Better to do it by levels. The house is too complicated for right, left."
"Fine. I'll take this floor. You take the next one up."
Draco didn't respond, but bounded up the staircase, taking the stairs three at a time. He ducked into the first doorway he reached, a parlour of some sort.
He checked his coin. "Moon. Don't worry. I'll make sure he has something to smell." Not what he'd been hoping for. She was still here. He tapped the coin with his wand and her previous message appeared. "Moon. Just a few more minutes." He growled, sounding almost like the wolf. She was so damned stubborn.
He sent her a new message. "Moon. Where's Blaise?" Surely Blaise wouldn't just let her sit there and wait for the Deatheaters.
"Moon. He left." This wasn't getting him anywhere. He needed to get up there, somehow force her to leave. He could watch the potion for her, clean up the evidence, do whatever. She needed to go.
He turned and left the room. As he reached the stairs he shot a quick "hominem revelio," over the floor. No one there. Luckily Greyback didn't have a wand, but Dolohov did. Would he think of that spell? Probably. Where was Greyback anyway?
As he reached the third floor Greyback coming out of a room, his head swinging wildly as he sniffed in every direction. "She's here. I smell her." He lunged away. Draco wasn't even sure that his presence had registered. Should he follow the wolf. Could he be right? Why would she be on this floor? No. She'd done something to throw the wolf off. She had to be upstairs, in the conservatory. With one last furtive glance around, he hurried down a narrow hall to the metal spiral staircase that led up to the garden on the fourth floor. He cast a concealing spell behind him to hide the entrance with a tapestry.
At the top of the stairs, he was assaulted by humidity and the overwhelming greenness of the conservatory. Some sort of flower must be in bloom. The sickly sweet scent filled his senses. He pushed through, down a row of plants. They seemed even more verdant than usual. He slapped back a vine as its tendrils reached out to grab at his clothing.
He reached the back of the room and stopped. Something was different. It had been a while since he'd been here, but something was off. For one thing there was no sign of Hermione. No, wait, there was a casement window open, moonlight streaming through it. She'd been here, maybe still was. He'd thought she would be back here, working at the long table . . . that was it. The table was gone. There was nothing, just an empty space.
"Draco." Her voice startled him. She was here. She was okay. She was close.
"Where are you?"
"I'm disillusioned . Careful, so's the table. Don't bump it." Her soft whisper sent shivers down his spine. He wanted to see her, to verify that she was alright.
Wait. He was getting careless. "Hold on. Tell me . . . what's in the painting in my country house?"
"The one over the fireplace?" He nodded. "It's a lake, with a flowering tree." She was speaking louder now, but her voice was odd, shaky.
"Okay. Your turn."
"What does osteo revelio do?"
Draco smiled. Clever question. "It makes bones show through the skin." He reached out, in the direction of her voice. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm almost done. Are you . . . what happened? I was so scared. I thought I'd killed you. I'm so sorry." Her words came out in a rush. His hand found her arm, warm bare skin. He closed his fingers around it. She was good at disillusioning. She was completely invisible, hardly any of the shimmering that could usually be seen.
"I'm fine," he reassured her. "I told him I'd seen you, seen a vision. He thinks I'm some sort of seer." She'd stepped closer. He could feel her just in front of him. His other hand came up and found her face, just inches from his. Her cheek was soft, slightly damp. Had she been crying? Could she have been that worried? For him? "Hermione . . . ." His voice came out a whisper. She was so close. He couldn't see her.
That meant the Dark Lord wouldn't see either.
He moved without thinking, although part of him had been thinking of this for weeks. Her lips were right where he'd thought they would be, or maybe she'd moved to find his. He kissed her once, carefully, gently, then pulled back. They shouldn't do this. Surely, she was going to say something, remind him, scold him, . . . but she didn't. He felt her hand, firm against the back of his neck. She pulled him back towards her.
This time he closed his eyes and gave himself to her. Her mouth was warm and she tasted divine. He felt as though he was being simultaneously levitated, envigorated and obliviated. He forgot where he was, why this was a bad idea, everything he'd ever known, except that he needed more, more of this taste, more of this feeling, more of her. He had no idea how long he'd been kissing her when she finally pulled away to take a great gasp of air. She'd forgotten to breathe. He couldn't see her, but he smiled at the sound. He wasn't the only one overwhelmed.
He opened his eyes to see . . . nothing at all, so he closed them again and leaned his forehead against hers.
"Draco," (had his name ever sounded as good as that shaky whisper?) "we can't, not now, not here. My potion's almost done. I need to . . . ."
"I know." He let go of her, then wished he had held onto a hand or something since she moved away and he had no idea where she was. He moved toward her and . . . .
"Bloody hell." His hip smarted. He banged into something, the table? "What was that?"
"If they could see the table they might look more closely up here. Good thing I'd put a stabilizing spell on the cauldron."
No kidding. If he'd spilled the wolfsbane potion after all they'd been through . . . . "Is it done?"
"Yes."
"Where are you?" A second later, she appeared. Then she passed her wand in front of her and a bubbling cauldron appeared. He studied her. It felt like forever since he'd seen her. Had it just been that afternoon? So much had happened. Her lips were swollen, red. She looked good like that. He took a step toward her, almost involuntarily, then paused and shook his head. She was right. This wasn't the time.
Another swish of her wand and the cauldron poured itself into a large beaker. She was already moving onto another, smaller cauldron, and starting a clear liquid pouring itself into its beaker.
"What's that?"
"Veritaserum. We're running short and I found Professor Snape's notes on that one too."
"Be careful. You may want to save that for special cases."
"What do you mean?"
"Even Professor Snape rarely used his own Veritaserum. It's too strong."
"Too strong? What can be stronger than forcing the truth out of people?"
"You've been trained in resistance methods?" She nodded. "You keep your answers short, answer only the question asked, that sort of thing?" She nodded again. He gestured at the beaker. "Three drops of that and you'll be telling all, answering questions that weren't even asked, completely spilling your guts."
"And he didn't even use it?"
"Too much truth is a volatile thing. You never know who'll be burned in an explosion like that."
Hermione shook her head skeptically. "Whatever. Anyway, so now you're a seer."
"Speaking of the truth." It was deadly serious, but he couldn't stop smiling. "That reminds me, I need you to give me a message."
"A message - what?"
"I need the memory. First, tell me to come here. I need an excuse for skiving off from where I was."
"Sure. How about . . . ." She shifted her face, became somber, eyes staring off into the distance. "Draco," she chanted, "Come to the Summers Estate. Be there before the moon wanes."
He watched intently, setting the memory firmly in his mind. "Nice touch, about the moon."
"Thanks. Now what?"
"Hmm. I'm not sure. That's tricky. If you told me to come here there has to be a reason, but Fenrir's tearing the place apart looking for you. If I was able to find you when he wasn't . . . ."
"I have just the thing. Hold on." Hermione touched her temple with her wand and he watched the silvery glow of a memory leak out of her head. It floated in the air while she summoned a small glass bottle from her bag, then she guided the memory into the bottle and stoppered it.
"Here, take this," she gestured to the bottle and he grabbed it, puzzled. "It's something I was going to tell you about, but I'll just show you instead." She smiled impishly. "It's a clue. See if you can figure it out."
He felt a smile on his face. How could he be this happy with all that was going on? He wanted to kiss her again, but he couldn't have that sort of memory. Maybe if she would disillusion . . . .
"Draco? Do you smell something?"
"Something's burning. Do you have another cauldron that I can't see?"
"No. I just had the two cauldrons. They're both packed . . . ."
Draco's eyes widened as a movement at the window caught his attention. Hermione turned to see what had shocked him so.
"Fiend fyre," he whispered. It was crawling up the glass, a clawed hand of flame already reaching into the open pane.
_
AN – So sorry I've been so slow with this update – travel, Christmas, sickness, new laptop, etc. Next update will be faster. Thanks for hanging in there and please review.