Chapter 8: The Rescue
Disclaimer: I didn't think of it first, so, no, Harry Potter does not belong to me. tear
Ginny layed there, on the hard bed, not moving. The pain was not as prominent as it was before, but it was still ebbing its way through her entire body. She was frustrated, not only with herself, but with the fact that she had believed that she was safe at Hogwarts. She should have known better then to trust a Slytherin, let alone the Slytherin Prince himself. Had she really started to like him? Had she gone daft? Ginny fought against the tears that were once again welling up in her crystal blue eyes. She slowly lifted a heavy arm, so that she could wipe the offending tears angrily away. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself, because she needed to figure a way out of this. She slowly started to push herself up into a sitting position, so that she could look around the room. She closed her eyes, summoning up all the power within her. She tried to picture herself safe on Hogwarts grounds. She opened up her eyes, hoping she would see the castle staring back at her, but all she saw was the same dreary room. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try and use her magic. She should have known he had put up wards against her advanced magic. She again looked around the room, surely there was something in here that she could use against her captors.
As she scanned the room, her eyes fell on the dresser. Maybe there was something in the drawers that she could use as a weapon. She slowly lifted her aching body off the bed, and made her way slowly across the room to the wooden chest. As she reached it, she gripped the edge to keep herself steady. Merlin, how could she fight her way out of here if she could barely stand? She looked up into the mirror that was on top of the dresser. She gasped at her appearance. There were many marks allover her skin, some so deep that they were still red, and raw. Her eyes looked dull, dark circles making her look tired and old appeared beneath them. Gin reached a tentative hand up to touch her face, as if she didn't believe that the reflection was her own. It was. She tore her eyes away, disgusted, as she started to open the drawers. All she found were some little girls clothing, some pictures drawn by a child, and some old crayons. She was slightly confused as to why there were childrens things in this place, but she knew that she had no time to discover the reasons behind it. She had more important things to worry about. She closed the drawer, reaching out to the very last one. As she pulled it open, she heard voices outside her room. Ginny quickly shut the drawer, noiselessly, and stumbled back to the bed as quickly as her legs could handle. When the door did not open, she let out the breathe she hadn't known she had been holding in. This was not going well at all, she thought as she slammed her head against the pillow.
Meanwhile, the trio were making their way down to the Slytherin dungeons.
"I still don't see why we don't go the Gryffindor common room," said an annoyed Ron, as he stared warily around him, as if someone was going to come out and attack him at any moment. Draco guffawed at the reaction of Ron.
"What, is the little Gryffindor scared of the dark Slytherin dungeons?" Draco asked, teasing him. Ron puffed out his chest in defiance.
"I have never been afraid of Slytherin, Malfoy, and I don't plan on starting now," he said, glaring at the back of Draco.
"You're going to burn holes through my shirt, Weasel," Draco said, dryly. In response, Ron kicked at his back heel, making him trip. Draco regained his footing, and stopped abruptly, making Ron slam into his back. Draco turned to face him, his eyes threatening.
"This is not going to get Ginny back, Weasel, so, please, do us all a favour and grow up!" seethed Draco, as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ron was about to retort, when Harry went in between them.
"Ron, Draco is right, you need to stop fighting, if we want to get her back," Harry said, pleading with his friend to cool it. He opened his mouth to say something, but her merely looked away, ashamed, and nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Draco turned back around again, and continued on his way to his chamber.
The boys waited as Draco did whatever he had to do to gain access to his chamber, and then they all headed inside. The room was quite large, with library's of books lining the walls. There were expensive leather chairs sitting in front of the expansive fire place, perfect for reading. The Gryffindors were not really interested in the decor, but still stared in wonderment at what money could buy. Draco motioned them over to a chest sitting the corner of the room. The two followed him over, staring over his shoulder as he knelt to unlock it. As he pushed it open, Harry and Ron stared in wonderment, for there sat many items of the dark magic persuasion.
"Hey, these shouldn't be on Hogwarts grounds," said Harry matter-of-factly.
"Seriously Potter, does it really matter?" asked Draco, getting annoyed, "we need some of these to get to where Ginny is, so I really think that it is a good thing that I do not follow the rules," Harry merely nodded, knowing Draco was right. Ron reached his hand in to touch one of the items, when Draco slapped it away.
"Don't touch, Weasel, unless I tell you that you can," said Draco, as he himself reached in the chest. Ron pulled his hand to his chest, glaring at Draco.
"I do not take orders from a Slytherin," he said, glaring at Malfoy.
"Look, you don't know what many of theses things are, so I would rather you not touch them in case you end up killing us all." Draco replied, his voice devoid of emotion. Draco lifted his hand up, still searching in the chest with his other, and a bag flew right into it. Ron stared in wonderment.
"How did you-?" he started, when Draco silenced him with a look. As Draco was pulling many different vials out filled with putrid looking substances, as well as different powders, he put them into the sac.
"What is this for?" asked Harry, as he picked up a vile of blue coloured liquid. He noticed something swimming in it. Draco looked up at him, and grabbed the vile out of his hand, putting it back in the sac.
"That eats through any wall, made of stone, steel, or metal," he stated, as if teaching a child. Harry looked affronted, but merely nodded, not wanting to pick a fight. He knew that they needed Draco expertise if they were going to make it in, and out of there alive. He didn't know where it was, but obviously Draco did.
"So, where are they holding her?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Draco never even looked up at him, as he was mentally checking of his list of things he needed.
"At the Manor, where else?" he said as if it were the most simple thing in the world, and Ron and Harry were dolts because they didn't know.
"What is 'The Manor'?" asked Ron, making quotation marks with his fingers. Draco rolled his eyes, these two were getting on his last nerve.
"The Manor is like the headquarters to the Deatheaters. I'm not supposed to know where it is, but because my father is high in command, I was privy to this information." he said, not explaining any further. Harry wanted to know more, but he knew that Draco would not tell them all the details.
"Is it hard to infiltrate?" Harry asked simply.
"Yes, very, but luckily I have these," he said holding up two vials holding a familiar looking substance. Ron and Harry looked at each other, grimacing.
"Is that what I think it is?" asked Ron, gulping noticeably.
"If what your thinking is Polyjuice potion, then yes," said Draco, smirking. Harry did not like the memory that came to mind, as he stared at the chunky looking amber liquid.
As soon as Draco finished taking all the supplies that they might need, the three set out on their journey.
"Why can't we just apparate?" asked Ron, getting frustrated with not knowing where they were going.
"Stupid Weasel, of course we can't apparate! The Manor's whereabouts change every few hours. And even if you do successfully apparate to its present location, you would be killed on the spot. There is a certain spell that the Deatheaters use to appear at the Manor, but you must have a Dark Mark to do so," said Draco, looking ahead of him as he explained it to them, "I'm usually with my father when I go, but I still know the spell on how to find it,"
"Well, why aren't you doing it then?" asked Ron, as he gestured frustratingly with his arms, "We could be going in the wrong direction!" Draco gave him an exasperated look.
"You have to perform the spell from certain parts of the world, the one for here is in the Dark Forest, near the nest of Spiders,"
"Oh," was all that Ron said, as he had the decency to look ashamed at his dis trust in Draco's ability. He also had a look of fear on his face, as Draco spoke of the spiders that inhabit the forest. Draco smirked at that, knowing how much Weasly hated spiders.
The trio made their way into the forest, Ron making small noises at any sound he heard that was not their feet against the ground.
"Ron, would you stop?" asked Harry, getting increasingly annoyed with his best friend. Ron glared at him.
"I am oh so sorry that I am offending you, oh great chosen one!" he said, sarcastically. Harry decided to ignore him, and continued walking. Harry held the branch in front of him away from his face as he kept walking, then let it go, so it slapped his friend right across his face.
"Oy!" he screamed, as Draco and Harry both snickered.
"Nice one, Pothead," said Draco. Harry smiled, not knowing how to react to the first kind word that Draco had ever uttered to him. Still, he had insulted him in the same sentence, but it was a start, right?
Draco led them along for another ten minutes, going deeper and deeper into the forest, until he stopped at a large tree separating their path in two. The tree had a large hole in the front of it, and Harry jumped back as he saw a snake poke its head out of it. Draco reached his hand out to it, and let it sink its teeth into the fleshy part of his palm. The other two visibly flinched, but Draco did not even move. As blood started to ooze from the bite, the snake let go, slithering back in to the hole. The tree then started to shake, dead leaves falling on top of their heads. The boys felt the ground start to shake beneath their feet as well, until, as suddenly as it started, it ended.
"What was that?" asked Harry, barely above a whisper. Draco looked at the two holes on his hand, the blood crimson against his white skin.
"that, boys, is how you find the Manor, and I don't suggest that you try it on your own, because only ones of Deatheater ancestry can let the snake bite them and live." Harry and Ron nodded vigorously. Draco turned to them, as he fished out two vials from his sac.
"Drink these now," he said, "don't worry, I brewed it myself, and made a few modifications," Ron looked at him warily.
"What kind of modifications?" he asked.
"I merely made it stronger, so that the wards in the Manor could not detect it." he said, shrugging his shoulder non-committal like, "the last ones who tried to get in using Polyjuice were given not so quick deaths by Voldemort himself. For some reason, ol' Voldy gets a little cranky when you lot try to get in to his secret Manor," Harry hoped that Draco really was on their side, or him and Ron were dead. Harry eyed Draco, and decided that saving Ginny was worth it, so he popped off the stopper on top of the vial, and chugged down the awful tasting liquid. Ron followed suit, trusting Harry's instincts.
Harry felt the blood in his veins go hot, as his skin started to bubble. He doubled over, pain gripping at his stomach. He looked over at Ron, and saw he was in the same predicament. Harry looked to his hands, and found they were larger, and more weathered. He looked over again at Ron, and saw his red hair change into a dark brown. The pain started to subside, as he saw Ron was very ugly. He couldn't help but snicker.
"You are down right ugly, there, Ron," Harry laughed. Ron had pock marks all over his face, and one eye was larger then the other. Harry also noticed that Ron was slightly hunched over, because of the hump protruding from his back. Ron glared.
"Speak for yourself, there Harry," he said, smirking as well. Harry shrugged his shoulders, no doubt he was just as ugly, at least he couldn't see himself.
"Okay, so Harry, your name is Jerrick Micklon, and Ron, they call you Stampy," Draco said, smirking at the last statement.
"Stampy?" Ron asked, incredulously. Draco and Harry laughed at him.
"Yes, Stampy, I don't really know why, I would have called you Humpy," Draco said, smirking, "I chose these guys because I knew that one day their knack for being silent would come in handy,"
"They don't talk much?" asked Ron, stupidly. Draco turned his gray stare to him, smirking.
"No, you dimwit, hence why I chose them. Stop making me repeat myself!" Ron glared, but Harry laughed, starting to like the sense of humour the Slytherin was equipped with.
"That was pretty intelligent, Malfoy," Harry said, genuinely appreciative of the others smarts. Draco looked at him, sizing him up to see if he was being serious. Deciding that he was, he nodded, and then walked towards the tree, as if he was going to clam right in to it.
"Hey, wait!" yelled Harry, as he reached his hand towards Draco, stopping him. He turned back around to face him, confusion on his face.
"What?" he asked, wondering why they were wasting more time, when Ginny could already be dead.
"Don't you have anything to tell us? Like, how we're supposed to act when we get there?" said Harry, gesturing to the boy. Draco nodded.
"Of course, well, just don't talk and don't get separated from me," he said simply. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Nothing else? What if they address us?" he asked, getting frustrated.
"Well, just grunt, that's all you two do anyways! Look, if it'll make you feel any better, when we get there, you can also nod!"
"Merlin, Malfoy, we just need to know how to act, we've never been there, and have no idea how Deatheaters act, so if you could shed some light on the situation, then maybe we wouldn't be so nervous." Said Ron, finally speaking.
"It's quite simple, act slimy and self-interested. Deatheaters don't think of much else except serving their master, and serving themselves. As long as you act like you obey every word that Voldermort utters, then we should be fine. Oh, and Ron, keep your Weasly temper in check, especially when we find her," Draco said, looking away from them, "I don't know what kind of shape she will be in when we do." Ron nodded, trying not to think of what those bastards had done to his baby sister. On that note, Draco continued walking towards the tree. As he got to it, the hole became big enough for him to step through, and the others followed suit. Ron was a little hesitant to follow, but he saw something harry out of the corner of his eye, so he ran right into the hole. When they got to the other side, Ron slammed in to the back of Harry, causing him to stumble slightly.
"Way to go, R-Stampy," he said, glaring at him, as he whispered, remembering to say his new name, "way to be subtle," Draco motioned for the two to be quiet, as they looked around to where they had ended up. Harry was not that impressed, as he was excpecting something really lavish, it being Voldemorts lair after all. But what was staring the trio in the face was what looked like a broken down old Victorian house.
"Not very impressive," said Ron, voicing Harry's opinions out loud. Harry nodded in agreement.
"Of course not from the outside you gits, inside it looks like a castle!" he said, almost proudly, but caught himself. This wasn't his life anymore, and he was glad.
"And you should know by now that not everything in the magical world is as it seems," he said with an air of mystery. Ron rolled his eyes at him.
"Dramatic much?" he said, smirking. Draco glared at him, slapping his hump back hard, but making it look like it was in a friendly manor, as some Deatheaters passed them, nodding their greeting. Draco nodded back, as did Harry. Ron only grimaced. The Deatheaters acted like that was normal for Stampy, as they walked on.
"Alright, boys, just follow my lead," he said, as he walked up to the door. There was a silver knocker on the door, in the figure of a snake, go figure. Harry reached up to use it, because Draco was just standing there, when it started to knock all on its own.
"Jerrick, don't touch anything, okay?" said Draco, glaring at him, whispering, "It starts to work on its own as it assesses the people before it, making sure they're Deatheaters, or descendants." Harry quickly took his hand away from the door, placing it back at his side. Ron snickered at the fact he got chastised by a Slytherin. Harry glared at him, and was about to hit him on his hump, like Draco had, when the door creaked open to reveal an enormous foyer, everything outlined in Gold. He smirked at the colour scheme, Slytherin green. Once a Slytherin always a Slytherin.
"Come'on," Draco said, walking inside. The two followed him, trying not to look like this was their first time inside.
"Okay," said Draco is a whisper, "I'm not too sure where they're keeping her, but I have a few good ideas," Harry and Ron nodded, following him as he went through corridor after corridor. They stopped in front of a bolted door, and Draco reached out his hand, waving it in front of it. They heard the sliding of the deadbolt, as the door unlocked. Draco reached to the nob, and turned it. He creaked the door open, and looked inside. It was empty, so he shut it and continued along the corridor.
"I figured that wouldn't be it, there wasn't anyone outside of the door, guarding it," he said, as if to himself, barely above a whisper "I think he is keeping her in her room." Ron and Harry looked at each other when he said that.
"Her room? What does that mean," asked Ron, his voice now gravely instead of his normal tone.
"You don't want to know, Stampy," he said, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye.
"Is it that bad?" he asked, hoping that his sister wasn't in some dungeon.
"The room is actually quite comfortable," Draco said, not continuing in his description of it. Ron was about to press for more, when a Deatheater walked by, eyeing them suspiciously.
"What are you doing in this wing?" he said, slimily. Draco glared at him.
"What are you doing in this wing?" he threw the question back at him. This threw the Deatheater off guard, but he quickly composed himself.
"I have clearance to be here, you do not!" he said, advancing on Draco.
"I am the one that captured her, so I have every right to be here, so back off," he said, authority filling every core of his being, making the other step away from him.
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I am sorry," he said, "She is in the Princesses room, in case you wanted to know," he was trying to make up for his fumble. Voldemort would not be pleased if he found out that he had disrespected the Malfoy Heir, the one responsible for their latest victory. Draco nodded, signalling to the Deatheater that he could leave. He nodded and turned to go the other direction, leaving the three to themselves. The other two were dumbfounded. They had heard what Draco had said, about being responsible.
"What the bloody hell was that? Are you really responsible for her being captured?" asked Harry, getting angry. Draco turned to them.
"In a way yes, but I had refused to help. I knew that my father would not have told Voldemort that, and would have lied, telling him that I was more then willing. He does not want his master to be angered with me, so close to the age that the Death mark is awarded." Draco explained, wishing he had told them sooner, so that they wouldn't doubt his loyalty.
"Why are you partly to blame?" asked Ron, not sure if he should be in a rage, or what.
"Because, I led her straight to my father," he said, looking away from them, clearly ashamed.
"Oh," was all they could say, as Draco started to move again. Harry let the latest information flow over him, as he pondered Draco's words. He could easily be lying to them, but he had seen such passion in his eyes. Harry was thoroughly confused, but decided to focus on the task at hand. He couldn't turn back now even if he wanted to. Then a thought struck him.
"Who is the Princess?" he asked, not quite understanding.
"It was her room I figured she would be in," Draco said, not looking at the other two, "The Princess is Voldemort's heir."
a/n: Well, I hope you liked the eighth chapter! Please review and tell me what you think...thanks :)