Disclaimer: Same as usual.

A/N: I've been planning this chapter for some time, but it was pretty hard to get just how I wanted. This is kind of an important event for Harry, more so than any other character in it, and it was hard to make it work. Hopefully, it does.

000000000000 Chapter 30: Unexpected Find 000000000000000

The sudden spell would have disarmed just about anyone, but Harry's passive shield suddenly seemed to 'awake,' and Harry was only knocked rolling by the disarming spell. His hand still had a firm grip on his wand, and he was on his feet in an instant, glaring down the dim hallway at his attacker.

"Malfoy," he spat, though he was paying more attention to his surroundings and the way Malfoy's wand was pointed. "What the hell?"

"I told you I'd make you pay. For my father, and now for my mother," the blonde growled, wand raised. "Don't think for an instant I was going to let it all go."

"This is stupid, Malfoy," Harry said, trying to sound calmer than he actually was. "You'll get expelled over this."

"I don't think so," Malfoy said, sauntering a few steps closer. "Dumbledore's not willing to let me out of the castle any more. Afraid I might convey a few interesting bits of information to certain third parties."

Harry's grip tightening on his wand as he watched his opponent advance. "I'm going to beat you again, just like I do every year," Harry said, figuring a fight was inevitable. He might as well get in a few good barbs while he had time. "Hope your teeth got straightened back out," he added, in reference to their fistfight that summer. Malfoy glowered at him.

"I've had enough of your arrogant attitude," Malfoy snarled. "Hemmoragus!"

Harry raised a quick shield and watched the unfamiliar spell shatter against it, then lowered it in order to return with his own curse. Malfoy sidestepped it, though, then came closer, firing a quick volley of fire curses that Harry easily blocked.

"Constrictus!" Malfoy snapped. Harry dodged, knowing the spell was difficult to block, and darted forward as well, sending back his own attack. He and Malfoy traded spells for perhaps two or three minutes, the intensity increasing with every spell.

He heard a cry and suddenly remembered Julie, who was against the wall, arms hugging her knees. Malfoy was sending spells almost randomly, trying to catch him as he dodged, and several had sizzled just past the girl. "Dammit," he muttered, trying to get near her. "Stupefy!"

While Malfoy was blocking the stunner, he managed to make it to Julie's side. He kneeled down next to her, trying to get her attention, and finally she looked up at him. "Go get help," he told her, then had to turn to block the curse Malfoy was sending his way. "Prote—" he started to say, when suddenly a hand darted out and gripped the end of his wand, jerking it so that he could not complete the wand movement necessary for the shield spell.

An instant later the impedimentia curse hit him squarely in the chest while he was busy gaping at Julie in shocked betrayal, and he fell backwards onto the stones. His wand was ripped from his suddenly clumsy fingers, and he watched with burning anger as Malfoy walked up, grinning. "Like I said, Potter, I'm going to get even with you. And I'm a Slytherin—I don't play fair."

Malfoy gave Julie a smirk, but she didn't look that happy. She held Harry's wand in her hand, a look of indecision on her face. "Get out of here," he snapped at her. "And if you tell anyone…" The teen let the threat hang in the air, and Harry watched with powerless anger as Julie ran off, his wand slipped into her pocket.

A kick to his neck turned his attention back to Malfoy. "Asshole," Harry got out through his half-numbed mouth.

Another kick, this time to his hip, warned him not to say anything more. "I think it's time to show you your new home for the weekend," Malfoy stated cheerily. "And unless you want me to get angry, I wouldn't talk too much."

"Go to hell," Harry said angrily, bracing himself as best he could when Malfoy cursed him.

"Constrictus."

Harry gagged as an invisible cord seemed to tighten around his neck, cutting off all air, and he couldn't help but gasp wildly as his vision swam and the curse tightened around his neck even more.

"Finite," Malfoy said in an offhand manner, and Harry hacked and wheezed painfully, trying to get much needed oxygen back into his starved lungs.

He barely noticed as he was lifted off the ground by a spell, and could do nothing as Malfoy directed his stunned form down the hallway, then down several flights of stairs and around numerous corners. He tried to remember as many of the turns and twists as he could, while he tried to break free of the impedimentia that held him almost completely immobile.

Finally, Malfoy stopped walking, and Harry realized that they were outside of a very small storage cupboard. He glared as Malfoy gave him a smirk and opened the cupboard. "By the way," Malfoy said, then flicked his wand. Harry could do nothing as ropes wrapped around his wrists and ankles, binding so tightly that the ropes were digging into his skin. "Have a good stay, Potter. And, just so you know, I've found out that this cupboard is the only one to have a misdirection spell on it. No one's going to be able to find you."

"When I…get hold of you…you're going to wish I would kill you," Harry growled. Malfoy sneered at him.

"Good luck with that, Potter. You're only going to be here until my father comes to collect you, anyway," Malfoy informed him. Harry stilled, surprise, and Malfoy laughed. "What, you hadn't heard? My father escaped two days ago, Potter. He's quite happy to hear that I've got you all wrapped up and ready for him."

Harry ignored Malfoy's arrogant words and instead focused on trying to wriggle his wrists and ankles to test the ropes. He had one last glimpse of Malfoy as he was set down onto the floor of the cupboard, and then he was plunged into darkness. He was alone.

"Dammit!" he shouted, suddenly able to move and speak at a normal speed. He thrashed around until he was sitting upright, then tried to move his hands. They were so tightly bound together, though, that he couldn't even being to move them.

He could feel the front and back of the cupboard with his back and his feet, and by wriggling a little to each side he found the other two sides of his prison. It was bare—there was nothing he could use to try to sever his bonds.

"Stupid, Potter," he said softly to himself. "You spend all your time being paranoid about Murkwater, and yet you don't even think to keep an eye on Julie. Stupid!"

He tried to focus on the ropes, hoping he'd be able to get his accidental magic to do something, anything, but he was afraid of getting too angry—it would make him that much more vulnerable to Voldemort, and he preferred his chances at breaking free of the ropes over his chances at keeping Voldemort from possessing him.

His hope lay in being able to free himself on his own, and, as he worked to free himself, he thought about how much Malfoy was going to be hurting when he got through with him.

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He knew it had to have been at least an hour or two already, and he was no closer to being free. Fear of visions kept him from drifting to sleep, as did the slightly too-cool temperature of the cupboard. His back ached from slight shivers, and his feet and hands were slowly going numb from lack of circulation.

Harry sighed aloud, trying to think of something else to do. His fingertips were bloodied from attempting to loosen the rope around his ankles, and now they were too numbed and clumsy to be of any use.

Another idea crossed his mind, and he awkwardly pulled his bound hands up to his mouth, trying to use his teeth to tear at the ropes. It was hard to get any purchase on the tight ropes, but he scraped at them repeatedly, feeling a few strands part as he worked.

He had to take several breaks, jaw aching, but after what felt like an eternity he felt one rope part and fall away. Eagerly, he wriggled his wrists, unwinding the rope, but it fell loose long before his wrists were free.

His heart clenched. There were two ropes, and he'd only managed to gnaw through one of them. He groaned aloud, then forced himself to start in on the second rope.

Finally, he heard the sound of the rope fraying and pulling free, and he let out a triumphant shout as the last rope fell from his wrists, revealing their ragged condition to the cool air. He could not see the extent of the damage to his wrists, but they stung badly as he tried to restore circulation to all of his fingers.

As soon as he could move all of his fingers tolerably well, he again tried to undo the rope about his ankles. It was difficult to work with, since he could not see the ropes and his fingers were already bloody from previous attempts at the rope, but he continued to worry the knots, and slowly, very slowly, he felt them begin to loosen. He smiled, thinking of the expression on Malfoy's face when Harry caught up with him.

When the ropes frayed and he attempted to stand, the still-tingling appendages would not support him, and he fell sideways—right though what he thought had been the very solid back of the cupboard. He didn't even have a chance to cry out as he smashed through what had suddenly become brittle wood.

He landed hard on his side, a cloud of thick dust billowing out around him, and spent several minutes just trying to cough the thick grime back out of his lungs. It took several heavy coughing fits, but finally he was able to breathe again and try to look around in the inky darkness.

"I wish I had a light," he muttered to himself, uncomfortable in the darkness. He wouldn't be able to see anything at all before being attacked, and he couldn't walk around without worrying that he'd stumble into a pit or something. "Lumos wou—"

He stopped in surprise, looking down at the soft light that suddenly blossomed near his right hand, as if emanating from his fingertips. He raised the hand up, staring in surprise at the light and wondering just what it meant to be able to cast Lumos without his wand.

He looked up, planning to look around the room for a way out, and yelped. He was looking straight into the eyes of a basilisk.

For a few moments, Harry sat still, frozen in shock, until he suddenly realized that he was very much alive—and that the snake was a lifelike replica made out of stone and jewels. He stood up slowly, keeping his lighted hand ahead of him, and turned around, surveying the rest of the room. He could see shelves all along the walls, covered in dust and cobwebs, and near the far end was what looked like an abandoned potions laboratory. Glass phials and flasks stood half-filled, and several upturned cauldrons sat along one side of the main table.

Everything had an air of darkness to it, Harry felt. The room was quiet and felt old, very old. The sounds of his footsteps as he walked forward carefully did not echo, as if everything was muffled by the darkness.

It wasn't until he reached the first large bookcase that he realized just what this place was—engraved on many of the shelves was the name 'Salazar Slytherin.'

"How many secret places did this guy have?" Harry wondered aloud, brushing the dust off of the spines of the books with the tips of his fingers. "Darke Times and Darke Measures," he read, perusing the titles. "Bloodlines…Fortresses of the Darke…"

He paused and slowly tugged the last book free, reminded very strongly of his 'visions,' of the mysterious castle. The pages were brittle and yellowed, but Harry turned them carefully, frowning at the faded and very foreign script riddles with sometimes completely illegible words.

By the fifth or sixth faded out page, Harry was ready to put the book back and look for a way out of the room. His neck was aching from the constrictus spell, and his feet and hands felt oddly numbed still.

When he went to replace the book on the shelf, though, it slipped from his still-clumsy fingers and dropped to the ground. "Bloody…" he started to curse, then stopped, staring in surprise at the page the book had opened to. When he had reached to pick up the book, his still-lit fingers had illuminated the pages clearly. "Boody hell," he finished, grabbing the book up and searching the room once more. He found the door quickly, and it only took turning the knob to open it and escape.

He turned back in order to mark the door in his mind, but as soon as it clicked shut it melted back into the stones, entirely invisible. Still, he thought to himself, he had the book he needed, and he had to get to Dumbledore.

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"HARRY!"

He stopped in surprise at the shouted name, standing in the door of Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle had already been moved back and the staircase in place, so he hadn't paused in his sprint up to the headmaster.

He looked around at the worried faces all trained on him—Remus, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall—and wondered what had happened. "Is there—" he started to ask, then stopped.

Suddenly, he realized that everyone looked worried because of him. He'd been gone hours, had missed several classes, and probably looked a mess. They hadn't been able to locate him because of the cupboard being under that mislocator spell Malfoy had mentioned, and probably Slytherin's workshop was well guarded too.

"I'm all right," he said instead, walking the rest of the way into the room. "I found something."

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Hermione almost shouted, looking frantic. Harry blinked.

"Er—that doesn't matter too much," he said distractedly, wanting to talk about the book. He put it down on Dumbledore's desk, opening it again to the picture he'd seen. "This is it," he said.

"Harry, perhaps you should tell us—"

"This is the castle that I keep seeing in my visions," he interrupted, wanting to get his point across quickly. "This is it. Voldemort's trying to get into it because he's dreaming about it too."

"Where did you find this book?"

Harry turned, not even feeling any anger at Snape for the moment. "I…stumbled… across it," he said, smiling at his own little joke. "It was on a bookshelf, and I thought it was useless until I saw this."

"The Fortress Nocturnus," Dumbledore read softly. "I had assumed it a myth…"

"Well, I keep seeing it," Harry assured the old man. "Except it doesn't have those flags, and the stones look a lot older," he added, scrutinizing the faded picture a little more. "I couldn't read the writing," he added. "It's some foreign language and really faded."

"A simple spell would—" Snape started to say.

"Someone borrowed it," he cut in curtly. "I have to…reclaim it still."

"You gave someone—"

"Shut up!" Harry shouted, frustrated.

"Twenty points from—!"

"I think that's enough," Dumbledore said mildly. "Before we even look at this text any further, Harry, I want to know where you've been. We've been searching the grounds for hours, and Severus was waiting to hear from any Death Eaters about if you'd been kidnapped right out of Hogwarts."

Harry sighed. "I was ambushed, and then someone else grabbed my wand so I couldn't defend myself. They tied me up and left me in a cupboard, I broke loose and then fell through a wall into this old room. It was Slytherin's," he added. "The book was on a shelf in there."

"Could you find this room again?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I was groggy when I was taken down to the cupboard, and the door of the workroom disappear into the stones when I left it."

"Who attacked you?" Remus asked, sounding protective.

Harry shook his head, turning back to the book. He needed to know what he was dreaming about and what he should be doing. "Can you read it, professor?" he asked Dumbledore. "I need to know what's going on."

"I will look into it," Dumbledore promised. "Give me a day," he asked. Harry agreed reluctantly, giving up the book and stepping back.

"I'm sorry you were worried like that," he apologized. Hermione shook her head.

"I'm sorry I yelled," she said. "But you've got blood on your hands and a big bruise around your neck, and you're covered in cobwebs and cuts…"

Harry looked down at himself, and realized she was right. "Yeah…" he said, suddenly feeling dizzy. It was as if Hermione's assessment of his injuries suddenly made them more real, and he was almost instantly aware of how much his body ached. "I think the adrenaline is wearing off…"

Ron held him up as he started to wobble slightly, suddenly much more weary and exhausted then he had been. He was about to let Ron just lead him out of the office when he remembered something very important. He stopped, turning back slightly.

"Professor, how common is wandless magic?" he asked. Dumbledore looked up sharply.

"It's extremely rare," Dumbledore finally said, seeming to understand more than he let on. "Very few develop the ability to do more than a few simple spells."

"But you can do wandless magic, right?" Harry pressed. Dumbledore nodded.

"To some extent," he answered vaguely. Harry nodded, thinking.

"Thanks," he said, then let Ron lead him and Hermione fuss over him all the way to the infirmary, where she took over fussing and tutting over his battered state.

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Obviously, Harry thought wryly, no one but Malfoy knew about the attempted kidnapping. Crabbe and Goyle looked perplexed as he walked up to Malfoy's back, and Harry savored the moment of surprise in Malfoy's silver eyes when Harry greeted his enemy jovially.

Malfoy only had a moment to turn around so that Harry could really relish that surprised expression before Harry's right fist knocked him backwards, clutching his broken nose. Without another word, Harry walked away, sauntering back over to the Gryffindor table in order to finish his Saturday lunch.

He ignored Ron's confused expression, Hermione's frustrated frown, and everyone else's shocked faces and instead focused on eating the sandwich he'd carefully put together. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, nor could he help but listen to the angry shouts coming from the Slytherin table and choke on his laughter. He just wished he could imprint the memory of Malfoy's surprised expression on his mind for all time.

"What was that about?" Ron finally asked, still looking confused. Hermione glowered at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy sat pinching his nose carefully, and Harry realized she wasn't upset at him at all.

"Don't you see?" Hermione demanded. "He's the one that attacked Harry."

Ron blinked, his expression melting into a smile. "Bet he didn't see that coming," he commented. Harry looked up with a smirk.

"I'm going to remember that moment for a long time," he said. "I've never seen anyone look so surprise."

He set his sandwich down then, as he saw Julie Thomas coming into the hall. "One more thing," he said, standing up and moving to intercept her. Her friends squealed as he came up, face set with anger, and Julie turned towards him, eyes full of fear.

"H-Harry," she squeaked. He held his hand out imperiously.

"Wand."

"I—I"

"Wand!" he demanded, stepping closer. Her hand dipped into her pocket and pulled his wand out. He grabbed it from her, examining it for any damages, then glanced over at the Slytherin table. "Get a look at Malfoy," he advised. "If you weren't a girl and younger than me…" he warned her.

She nodded. "I—I'm sorry," she said.

"You'dve been a lot more sorry if Malfoy's father had taken me to Voldemort," he said sharply. "You could have been responsible for the deaths of a lot of people."

"I—please…"

"Stay away from me, Julie," he snapped at her, then turned and walked away. He could almost feel her sorrowful eyes on him as he went back to his lunch, but he didn't look up. She'd betrayed him, helped Malfoy of all people, and she expected him to listen to her apologies. It was ridiculous, and he wasn't going to spend his time trying to understand why she did it when he had loyal and trustworthy friends already.

Which reminded him, he remembered. He had yet to tell Ron and Hermione about the wandless Lumos he had performed in Salazar Slytherin's workroom. That, he decided, would be something to save for Christmas break, when he had a better idea of just what it meant. He didn't have time now to tell them properly, anyway, he told himself.

And besides, Dumbledore had sent him a note at breakfast telling him that he had deciphered the worn out book. He'd asked that Harry meet him at two, and he planned to be there on time and without the worries of Julie on his mind.

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A/N: Yeah, okay, kinda short, I understand, but I did have two exams this week, both of which were long and difficult. The next chapter will be longer, I think, because it's full of explanations and the last quidditch match of the season. Yeah, Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor. Should be very interesting, if I can find it in myself to write an original quidditch match. A lot of action is coming up soon, and a lot of developments in Harry's abilities and the mystery of the 'Fortress.' Comments will be after that chapter; I just wanted to get this one up for you.