A/N: Nothing relieved me more than the overhaul of this chapter. Lee did a great job on the ideas in the original, all of which remain intact, but we so badly needed to do an edit that never happened. The results of said (though belated) edit make me unspeakably happy.
Disclaimer: We solemnly swear we are up to no good …(of course it's not ours!)
)PvsM(
The small group entered the village of Holly-on-Hearth late the next morning. Everyone was feeling the after-effects of the troll attack and too little sleep the night before. Blaise and Hayden, in particular, lagged. Ginny had re-located Hayden's shoulder and done a fairly clean job of it, but the joint seemed to hurt him constantly. He didn't complain much, Tristan had to admit, but even with Dorian carrying both their packs, the pain Hayden felt was evident.
Blaise was apparently still sore from jumping the troll. "How'd you feel if you'd jumped ten meters and straddled a rock?" she said with a weak attempt at humor when Tristan asked if she was okay. "That was a solid troll." Blaise seemed to be healing fast but she walked in a delicate way, as though she had slivers in her thighs.
They stopped on the outskirts of Holly-on-Hearth long enough to remove their long black cloaks. Tristan didn't have much experience with Muggles, but she thought the clothing the group wore under their cloaks was probably passable in a Muggle village. Still, she noticed they were drawing a lot of stares as they moved down the street. Or rather, the boys were. Tristan bit down a sneer – the small-town Muggle girls apparently hadn't seen the likes of Hayden, Dorian, Draco, or Harry in a very long time. The stares were just short of rude. Perversely fascinated, Tristan watched a continual parade of teenagers, even older women, winking and "hmming" in evident appreciation.
"Merlin, how common can you get?" she muttered. She supposed they were nice-looking boys, but honestly! Tristan stared at the back of Hayden's head as they followed Cedric through the outdoor market in the center of town, across ancient cobblestone lanes, and through a maze of narrow streets. She owed him some gratitude, she reasoned. He had probably saved her life, if not her Quidditch career. It made her feel guilty, that he'd been hurt helping her. More than that, his actions confused her.
Hayden hated her. In fact, he'd told her more than once just what he thought of her. He'd tell anyone who'd listen that she was dim, that she was a liar, that she was common. So why had he bothered to save her? By all accounts, she wasn't worth it. The only explanation was that he cared enough about the feelings of the others, some of whom did care about her very much. Hayden was one of Ced's best mates, after all, and Ced would be heartbroken if anything happened to Tristan.
Frustrated, Tristan cast her eyes around for her brother. "How much further is it, Ced?" she asked when she caught up with him. As usual, he led the group, his gait confident and unworried. She took his arm and leaned on him.
"Not much further, love. There's a little café just up and around this corner. Our first Portkey is on the opposite side of the village, a few kilometers out."
"Food!" Dorian said, almost groaning with relief. "Real, hot food!"
"Don't get too cozy," Cedric warned, rubbing Tristan's cold hands between his large warm ones and ignoring all the Muggle girls staring at him. "We don't have long here."
"That's a pity," Draco muttered. Tristan saw him eyeing a Muggle shop window distastefully. She could see the reluctant curiosity in his expression as well, and reckoned he must never have seen a working television before. Tristan had no use for television – why watch what you could be doing yourself? However, Ian had introduced her to Disney films the previous summer and Tristan had to admit she did kind of enjoy them.
"I don't care how long we're here, as long as I get a proper meal," Dorian whined, rubbing his stomach as though he hadn't eaten for weeks. "Could do with some chocolate right now as well. I could've sworn I bunged a couple bars of Honeydukes' someplace before we left ..."
Tristan gave him a monumentally guilty look and glanced at Ginny. Ginny glanced back and they both cradled their packs protectively.
"Stay away," Ginny warned.
"You two have it?" the big redhead asked, casting heartsick puppy's eyes back and forth between them. "How could you hold out on me, your beloved nephew and devilishly handsome cousin? Stealing candy from a child – "
"You're the biggest child I've ever seen," Hayden mutterd, rolling his eyes.
"Touch it and die, beloved nephew or not," came Ginny's flat warning.
"You ate all the chocolate out of my stocking three Christmases ago," Tristan said, glowering and hiding on Harry's other side.
"I just want to get out of here," Blaise announced, glaring around at all the women oggling the boys. Some of them had wedding rings, for Merlin's sake! Classless Muggle bints.
Tristan's thoughts were in line with her mother's, though she kept an eye on Dorian, just in case he made a dive for her rucksack. Her grouchy train of thought came to a jarring halt as she realized she was also peeking over her glasses at Hayden's denim clad legs.
"Hypocrite," she muttered to herself, and pushed her specs determinedly up the bridge of her nose.
She paid little attention to the well-preserved Victorian-era buildings around them as the group continued up the street. She was more interested in not looking at or thinking about him. Hayden bloody Malfoy. And he wasn't even in top form! He was grimy and tousled, irritable and rumpled, and…and absolutely mouth-watering.
Merlin's pants, her brain was at it again!
Tristan pulled off her glasses and distractedly cleaned them with a dry handkerchief from the cuff of her leather coat. She almost dropped the rucksack and could feel Dorian's eyes on it. She sent him a half-blind dirty look, though her stupid mind kept returning itself, like a boomerang, to stupid Hayden. She was seeing things; it had to be exhaustion making her stare at the git as she'd never done before. Possibly, it was over-exposure to the harsh elements. She was getting sick, that was all. A fever. Pneumonia. Maybe psychosis.
Tristy shivered as Hayden, at whom she'd found herself staring again, slid a half-curious, half-scornful look back over his shoulder.
She stuck her tongue out at him, shoving her specs back on. His answering smirk made her blink and miss a step. Hayden chuckled, quietly mocking her embarrassment, and she ground her teeth, giving herself a sound mental shaking. Hefting her rucksack higher on her back, she maneuvered herself so she was caught up to Harry again.
"Positively sick-making, all of this," she grumbled as they passed a group of uniform-clad school girls. She gave her long black plait, which hung over her shoulder, a good tug.
"All of what?" Harry asked absently, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed all the girls staring at you lot. They've been drooling since we got here," Tristan said crossly, nodding at a pair of late twenty-somethings. The two women had been watching Harry and whispering. When he caught the eye of one, she blushed and giggled. Tristan's lip curled. She could see the carats winking on both women's left ring fingers from where she stood.
"Er…" Harry said, looking quickly away and tugging at his earlobe. It was a nervous habit Tristan recognized.
"They wish," Draco broke in. "Muggle slags – they don't have a prayer."
"If only I had time." Dorian sighed, sending a fleeting look over his shoulder. He glanced at his uncle. "Some of us aren't snobs, you know."
"Typical Weasley attitude," Draco retorted. "Anything with breasts ..."
"Sod right off, Malfoy!" Ginny snapped.
Tristan glanced at her brother. Cedric only shrugged, as if the attention of female multitudes were nothing new. "Have some standards, Ian," he threw over his shoulder. "It doesn't matter if they're Muggles, but this lot are obviously tarts."
Tristan shared a dirty look with her fellow female travelers, feeling an itch to strangle her brother. Ginny and Blaise rolled their eyes in return.
"Just typical, right?" Blaise said.
"Six brothers, anyone?" Ginny countered. Tristan gave her a sympathetic look. She only had to put up with one, after all.
"Jealous, Tristy?" Hayden turned back to look down at her as he walked.
"Of what? You?" Tristan gave him her best sneer and gave Ginny a nudge. "Hate to say it, Aunt, but that one's dead from the neck up."
Hayden's lip curled.
"You're complaining about him?" Ginny gestured wildly at Draco, who was examining his hair in a shop window up ahead. "Look at where the poor kid came from – he's enough to make a saint swear."
"Mum," Hayden whined, giving her a piteous look.
"Modesty is a virtue, young man," Ginny scolded. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my god!" she wailed a minute later – Harry and Dorian winced at her shrill tone. "I sounded just like my mum!" She shuffled along, looking miserable. "I was always meant to be a middle-aged mother," she groaned, kicking stones out of her path dejectedly. "I'm only sixteen, for Merlin's sake!"
"Ah, Mum, don't say that," Hayden said quickly, falling back to walk beside her. "You never act like a middle-aged mother – well, most of the time." He scowled. "Except when you give me lectures about moral responsibility and so on."
"Sounds like Weasley to me," Draco said as he stepped away from the window, apparently satisfied with the state of his hair.
"I'm prematurely old!" Ginny howled.
"Stop provoking her, you git!" Blaised hissed, slapping Draco's shoulder. "At this rate, she'll be whining all the way to the Cotswolds!"
It was a mercy when they finally found the little cafe Cedric remembered, just on the opposite end of town.
"Peasant fair, how charming," Draco muttered.
"You want to eat, Malfoy, or you want to sit outside and watch us through the window?" Harry demanded, looking totally merciless. He led the way into the cafe, which Tristan thought looked pleasant and smelled mouth-watering. When they were settled around a large square table, Tristan shrugged out of her leather jacket. She sighed as she leaned back in her chair, then glanced up as Hayden hissed through his teeth. Her godbrother, unfortunately seated directly across the table from her, winced as Dorian accidentally jostled his shoulder. He tucked the look away, rolling his shoulder irritably. Then he noticed Tristan staring (something he was catching her at a lot lately, she thought) and sneered. By sheer force of will, she kept her head up even though she really wanted to hide behind her menu.
Hayden answered with a cold smile that made her want to stick her wand up his nose and fire off about fifty hexes. He acted so bloody superior all the time. Honestly, he should have been the one in Slytherin.
Unlike Hayden, who had been born with steely nerves and wintry self-assurance, Tristan found herself struggling with every aspect of Slytherin life. She had to learn to act calm, to seem unruffled by the nasty jeers about being Harry Potter's daughter. She had to prove herself time and again on the Quidditch pitch, her dives and turns and climbs becoming more reckless, dangerous, and spectacular. The risks were worth results. For one thing, being the star of Slytherin's Quidditch team gave her the status she so badly needed to survive in Slytherin. For another, it gave her a place where she was sure she belonged and always would. The pitch was like a second home.
Tristan put down her menu, fisting her hands in her lap and keeping her eyes on anything but Hayden. He had the perfect parents, was in what everyone thought was the best house at Hogwarts, and had a hundred people he could call true friends. Tristan, contrarily, lived a rather stilted home life, had been sorted into what everyone thought of as the worst house at Hogwarts, and lived with about a hundred people who'd best be described as team mates. They were in it together: winning the House Cup, winning at Quidditch, winning in class. Most of Slytherin House considered each other close enemies. Tristan only had a few friends she trusted and cared for in Slytherin.
She suddenly realized she was glaring at Hayden. The resentful glint in her eyes must have had a physical pull because Hayden looking up suddenly, frowning as his gaze turning questioning.
For a moment, Tristan caught a glimpse of the old friend she'd grown up with. He wasn't glaring – he was silently asking what was wrong. She blinked past the steadily growing haze of her temper and, at last, looked away. He had hurt her more brutally and painfully than anyone ever had and she couldn't – wouldn't – forgive that.
She bit down hard on her trembling lip. Why was she suddenly so sensitive to him? Most of the time, she could easily ignore his existence. Possibly, it was the enforced time they were spending together all of a sudden. Unlike family gatherings and school, she couldn't avoid him now.
In an effort to find something else to think about, she studied the cafe. The low ceiling was crisscrossed with dark wood beams and the rough plastered walls were whitewashed. Old-fashioned picture rails, set high on the walls, boasted antique mirrors in chipped gilt frames and what looked to be very old Muggle photographs of the village itself, in various stages of growth. She wondered what it must be like to be a Muggle. She glanced around at some of the other diners. As her father said, they didn't look any different, the Muggles. But they were different – totally and completely outcast from the incredible world in which Tristan had been raised.
Their waitress arrived at last. Dorian wasted no time ordering half the menu, something that would have made her gape if she hadn't known him all her life. As it was, she had to hide a grin as the waitress's carefully penciled, plucked, and tweezed eyebrows climbed steadily up her forehead.
" – brown toast with butter and marmalade, two fried eggs, sausage, bacon, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, porridge, and pumpkin juice."
"Pumpkin juice?"
Tristan nudged Dorian's foot under the table, raising her eyebrows at him. Merlin, he'd spent time in the Muggle world with his grandparents. He knew better!
"Oh, uh…orange juice, if you've got it," the redhead backpedaled, hastily closing his menu and handing it back with an apologetic smile.
"Small or large?" The woman had been looking bored until Dorian smiled. Now she looked alert and, to Tristan's eye, a little flustered.
Dorian's grin widened, his bright blue eyes twinkling. "Better make it small…got to watch my figure, you know." He settled back, large hands folded over his flat stomach. The twenty-something waitress looked a little dizzy. Tristan wouldn't be surprised if her friend received extra large portions. Or the waitress's telephone number. Again, she wondered what was going on with the Muggle women in this village – they seemed to go completely brainless around wizards.
The waitress almost forgot to get the rest of their orders, but eventually she wandered off toward the kitchens, looking punch-drunk. Tristan plucked off her spectacles and gave them a second polish on her napkin. Without meaning to, she caught a look at Hayden, who was rolling his shoulder again, alternately scowling and wincing. She tore her gaze away and tried to focus on the conversations cropping up around the table.
"Don't tell me you're going to eat all that," Blaise was saying to Dorian with a curled lip. She sat between Cedric and Harry at the large table. A few days ago, Tristan thought, she would have looked uncomfortable there. Now she sat relaxed, as though between her son and his father she felt safe.
Dorian shrugged his broad shoulders beneath his battered denim jacket. He looked at Blaise as if she were just being silly. "Course I am. Wouldn't have ordered it if I wasn't."
"You've already eaten just about everything from the packs! How can you be so bloody hungry all the time?" Blaise stared at him.
"Is it my fault that my body's still growing?"
"Too bad your brain hasn't caught up," Hayden said with a small smile. His husky laugh as he dodged Dorian's wadded up napkin tugged at a spot in Tristan's chest, as did his hiss of discomfort as he jarred his shoulder again.
"Sorry!" Dorian bit his lip and fluttered his hands helplessly around Hayden's arm.
"Don't worry, mate. It's fine." The blond managed a smile, nudging Dorian, and Tristan's gaze dropped like a rock to the yorkstone floor. Any one of her housemates back at Hogwarts would have been thrilled the Gryffindor Seeker was injured. All Tristan felt was a tangle of guilt in her chest.
"I still can't believe we got away from those trolls," Harry was saying to Ginny in a low voice. "I mean, facing one was bad enough, but four!" He rolled his water glass slowly between his palms. "I had no idea woodland trolls were even larger than mountain trolls!"
"Thinking of your first year?" Ginny asked, nudging him.
"What happened your first year?" Hayden wanted to know.
"Dad and Uncle Ron fought a mountain troll to save Aunt Hermione," Tristan said into her water glass. It had been one of her favorite stories growing up.
"Sounds like them," Draco said, his lip curling. "Bloody hero wannabes."
"Who's a wannabe?" Harry said coolly, with a little smirk of his own. He turned serious a moment later. "It was luck that got us away from that troll first year," he said. "I have no idea how we all got away this time." He threw a look at Tristan's mother that Tristan couldn't read.
"And people ask me why I hate surprises," Blaise muttered, returning his look with one equally unreadable. She rested her chin wearily on her hand for a moment before recoiling and getting to her feet. "Eau de Troll," she said. "That is really vile. I'm for the washroom; I'll be back after I've boiled myself."
Ginny was eying her hands as well. She gave a tentative sniff and flinched. "I think I'll come with."
"Me, too. Be there in a second." Tristan paused before turning to Harry. "Do you think Red Robes was behind the troll attack?"
Harry's dark brows drew together. "I don't know," he said at last. "But like Malfoy said, it was an awfully strange coincidence, those trolls being so far from of their usual hang outs."
Cedric shifted in his seat, leaning his jaw on his hand, his elbow on the chair arm. Unlike Blaise, he didn't seem to care what his hands smelled like. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was a setup. And if it makes you feel better, Tris, I reckon we're making him awfully nervous." He threw a look at the loos, where Ginny and Blaise had just disappeared. "Or, rather, Mum is."
"Far be it from me to interrupt, since I'm so enjoying my singular dining experience among the common folk," Draco cut in, "but what makes you two so sure that Red Robes is a he?"
Harry shrugged. "Didn't he sound like a man to you, Malfoy? I mean, you heard him, he spoke right before we left – "
"Voices can be easily altered, Potter, as well as appearances – you know that." Draco speared Harry with a glacial look. Tristan wondered what bit of old history he was thinking about.
"Man or woman, it doesn't matter," Cedric said. His voice was soft with a steel edge. "If he or she catches up with us, I'm sure we'll all be very dead. Red Robes's actions aren't exactly those of someone with a stable mind."
"All of us, dead? Speak for yourself." Draco's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, I can't fear someone who'd dress with such obvious bad taste. Red robes? I mean, what is that? Tacky and conspicuous."
"Maybe the eerie black robes he usually wears to stalk and murder people are at the cleaners," Tristan said, rolling her eyes at her uncle as their food arrived. He gave her an unimpressed look that reminded her of his son. She readjusted the jacket slung over her chair and was turning back to the table when she caught the eye of one of the busboys helping the server lay out their meals. The dark-haired boy looked to be around her age. She met his eye and gave him a small smirk. He almost dropped Dorian's eggs in his lap, his eyes traveling from her tight tee shirt to her tighter jeans.
Tristy would have stopped with the grin had she not seen the look in Hayden's wintry eyes. Instead, she knocked her cloth napkin off the table and, with a feigned look of embarrassment, turned slightly, and deliberately bent over from the waist to retrieve it. Bending over in skinny jeans was no easy feat, and she ended up having to hold her breath – but the outcome was well worth the minor discomfort.
She felt a grin tug at her lips at the resulting crash from behind her and took her seat. One of Dorian's plates of food lay face-down on the floor and the busboy's eyes were glued on Tristan. She caught a look at Hayden's expression and smiled beatifically. "I'm so clumsy," she said, picking up her fork.
"What the hell are you wearing?" he hissed across the table over the tinkling noises of the mess being cleaned up. "What were you thinking, coming out in that? Do you have any idea how tight – " He cut himself off and took a breath through his nose.
"Admiring the view, Malfoy?" Tristy said, catching her lower lip in her teeth. "Get in line."
"Those skins of yours don't leave a lot to the imagination is what he means," Draco drawled. He yelped at the backhanded slap across the head he received from Harry. "Watch it, Potty."
"What, you think I dress like this for you lot?" Tristy yawned, and then frowned, as if she were completely bored by the whole discussion. "Merlin, talk about an ego! I dress this way because I like it, not because I give a damn about anyone else. Men!" She let her lip curl. "They're comfortable, although," she added, noticing the approaching busboy. "I have to be careful with skinnies. The knicker line can be murder." Another satisfying crash.
"You aren't wearing any knickers?!" Hayden hissed.
Harry made a funny croaking noise and slid down in his seat as other café-goers turned their heads to see where all the noise was coming from. He splayed a hand over his face as Draco sniggered at his son.
Tristy met Hayden's eye and stood slowly. Sure, she wore the clothes she loved because she loved them. The attention from certain boys was an added bonus. "Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy."
He leaned back in his chair as though she'd thrown a snake at him and glared up at her. "Anyway," she said. "I'm not the only one in tight trousers."
At that moment, Blaise and Ginny returned, their coats thrown over their arms. As she'd expected, Harry and Draco went still.
"I could eat a moose," Ginny announced, throwing her jacket over a chair and leaning over the table to inhale the wonderful smell rising from it. Draco, Tristan noticed with some amusement, had tipped back in his chair to admire the view.
"Thank Merlin, my stomach is sticking to my spine," Blaise said, sitting gingerly down in the chair beside Harry. She caught him staring and said, "What, Potter? Do I have something on my face?"
"What do you think?" Tristan cut in, addressing her mum and aunt. "The lads think badly of our trousers."
"Our trousers?" Blaise repeated, snorting as she helped herself to a bit of everything within reach. "See if I give a damn what anyone thinks."
"Not as if we had much of a choice anyway," Ginny pointed out. "Not that I'm not grateful for the loan, Tristan," she added hastily. She frowned, trying and failing to pinch a bit of the material wrapped around her thigh. She missed the intensity of the look Draco was giving her legs. "Zabini, I think you ought to have a talk with her," Ginny went on, her eyes sparkling a bit as she began to dish up food for herself. "Not one stitch of sensible clothing to be found in that girls' wardrobe. Leather as far as the eye can see."
"Oy!" Tristan said indignantly. "We're all wearing jeans. They're all mine, I swear."
"Only pairs I've seen," Ginny said with a mischievous wink. "As her mum and godmother, I really think we should speak to her, Zabini."
Blaise only shook her head. "Not me." She gave Tristan a grudging look. "I happen to think she has excellent taste."
Tristy stared at her with a surprised smile. "Thanks. Mum," she added, trying it out. She couldn't remember ever talking to her mum. The word sounded alien. She liked it. Blaise looked surprised as well and went hastily back to her food.
"You know, it's a good thing you and Ced have got the cash, Uncle Harry," Dorian said out of the blue. "I wouldn't put it passed one of the Slytherin lot to pull a runner."
"Oy!" Tristan snapped, slugging his shoulder.
Draco only sneered across the table. "As poor as your family is, Weasley, I'm not surprised you're fussed about money."
Dorian stopped mid-chew and gave his uncle a bewildered look. "Huh?"
"Malfoy, you git, Ron built Hermione a tree house mansion and he's an Unspeakable," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Obviously, they're not poor."
"He's right," Hayden said, pointing at his cousin with his fork. "The Weasleys have nearly as many assets as we do."
Draco looked crestfallen. "If they're so bloody rich, why is that one wearing rags?" he wanted to know. "Look at his jeans – they're in tatters at the cuffs, there are holes in the knees, and that jacket of his looks like it's been soaking in bleach." He looked down at his own stylish, heavy black jumper, thrown over a black tee, and his black jeans – all on loan from Hayden, of course.
"Rags!" Dorian swallowed his food quickly and said loudly, "These aren't rags! Do you know how much I paid for these?" He put his fork down and turned out the collar of his jacket. "This is designer."
"You mean they're supposed to look that way?" Draco looked horrified. Tristan bit down a laugh – her uncle Draco had had a similar reaction the first time Dorian had showed up at Red's Hollow wearing a Goblin '81 number. "You paid actual money for damaged clothes?"
Dorian huffed and went back to his food. "Rags, indeed!"
Tristan grinned. Remembering her soiled hands, she got to her feet and wandered in the direction of the loo. Her grin widened when her swagger caused two more crashes from the vicinity of the kitchens. When she glanced back at the table, Hayden was glaring at her again.
)PvsM(
"All right, this is it. Our first Portkey."
Still huffing from the tortuous march to the top of a hill on the outskirts of town, Ginny squinted through burning, tired eyes at the object Cedric was pointing at. It was sitting at the base of some timeworn boulders. She frowned. Then her nose wrinkled. "Really, Cedric, that's disgusting."
Cedric threw her a grin and bent his head over the map Harry had opened. Not the Marauder's Map, but a map of the local area provided by an overeager waiter.
"What is it – oh, gross!" Blaise peered over Ginny's shoulder, shuddering. "I am not touching that. Didn't we just boil our hands?"
"That is pretty nasty, Ced – what possessed you to use petrified dragon dung?" Hayden's nose wrinkled as he absently rotated his arm. Dorian still had his pack, Ginny was relieved to see. She wished she'd thought to bring some healing herbs with her. As it stood, she didn't have time to hunt any up in the woods.
"I was in a hurry. Give me a break, will you? Besides, it's not something someone would be curious about touching if they came across it normally, is it?"
"Bleh, Ced. Just bleh." Tristan gave her brother a shove and then let her attention wander. "…Oh wow! Look at this!" Ginny followed her to the edge of the hill, where a beautiful view of the town and surrounding countryside lay below them, bathed in morning sunlight. Ginny sighed. She suspected it would have been even more beautiful if four Unspeakables and a murderer hadn't been after them.
"How far is this one going to take us?" Draco's voice drifted to Ginny across the hilltop, his impatience apparent. Ginny saw his wand slip from inside his sleeve, and he began twirling in through his fingers. He had a lot of nervous habits, she was beginning to realize. Twiddling with the wand, tugging at his hair, running his fingertips over the inside of his left forearm.
"This one will take us to Baggeridge Woods in the west midlands," Cedric was saying. "We can take another from there to London – avoiding Diagon Alley, obviously. Which is unhandy, because the way Dorian was eating this morning – "
"Oy, lay off about the food – !" Dorian said irritably from where he stood with Ginny and Tristan, admiring the view and occasionally trying to get close enough to Tristan to cop a feel. Eventually, she got irritated enough to slug him in the shoulder. He howled. "My whole arm's gone dead, Tristy, what the hell!"
"Next time you go for my bum, remember this moment," Tristan said coolly, slugging his other arm in passing. He howled again and turned to follow. She was heading for Cedric so Dorian detoured toward Hayden, looking martyred.
"We're going to need to change some more money somewhere." Cedric had set the map on one of the flat rocks, Harry and Draco leaning in on either side. "I haven't anything set up anywhere near Glastonbury, though, so we'll take a train to Reading, and either bus or hoof it from there. With any luck - of which we've had very little, and can probably expect to have even less as we get closer – we get to Glastonbury in a couple of days."
"Sounds like a plan," Draco surprised everyone by agreeing, but then spoilt it a moment later by adding, "but I'm not showing my face on any rubbishy, stinking Muggle bus."
"We'll deal with your fear of anything Muggle when we get there, Malfoy," Harry said dryly. Ginny grinned to herself. She loved watching Harry push Draco's buttons.
"Fear? I'm not afraid of Muggles, Potter!" Draco spat. "I'm just thankfully aware that they're beneath me." He gave Harry a chilly smile, and gave his wand a dangerous swipe through the air. "They should be afraid of me."
"Then I reckon you'll ride the bus, Malfoy," Harry said, rolling up the village map and tucking it away.
"Whatever, Potter. Let's just get the hell on with it. I'm sick of this exciting mystical adventure." He shoved his wand back up his sleeve.
"This isn't exactly my idea of a vacation either, you know," Ginny pointed out. "You're not the only unhappy about all this."
"Nobody asked your opinion, Weasley," he snapped, nose in the air. "You know this is the easy part, don't you?" He motioned around the hills. "Getting there. Avalon, if it even exists, is going to be about as easy to find as a virgin the night after N.E.W.T.s."
Ginny bit her lip, and then ruined her hostile expression with a snort of laughter. Draco rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. He walked a few feet away to stare out over the valley, but she could have sworn she saw half a smile on his lips before he turned his back.
"Crikey, he's always crying about something, isn't he?" Dorian rolled his eyes at Hayden as both boys joined Ginny by the rock.
"He is," Ginny agreed, though her smile remained. Who'd have thought Draco could make a joke someone besides himself could laugh at?
"Gather round and listen up!" Cedric's voice echoed around the hill and slowly the group reassembled by the rock. He stood over the gray, knee-high mass of petrified dung, which everyone else was giving a wide birth. "All right, on the count of three, everyone will touch the Portkey at the same time and – "
"No way, that's revolting." Blaise backed off immediately, putting her hands behind her. Ginny couldn't blame her.
"Sure, it's foul, but what else are we going to do?" Tristan asked. "Wait around for Ced to come up with another Portkey?"
"Yes, that plan works for me," Blaise said calmly.
"Look, it's practically solid rock," Harry cajoled.
"Solid poo, you mean," Blaise said, her nose wrinkling.
"Sometime before I'm ancient, Zabini," Draco cut in. "Honestly, and you call me a snob."
"All right, enough already!" Cedric bellowed, looking more irritable than Ginny had ever seen him. "I'll touch the sodding stuff and the rest of you can hold on to me."
"You're a good boy," Blaise said, patting his head. Cedric glowered at her.
Everyone formed a reluctant circle around Cedric, and clasped hands. Dorian was on her left, and Ginny found Draco on her right. He frowned at her when she hesitated giving him her hand. He raised his eyebrows mockingly. She bit her cheek and took his hand with a heavy sigh, deciding to look the other way when he laced their fingers together.
)BW(
"Does anybody else feel like we're playing a lopsided game of Red Rover?" Dorian asked as they prepared to go. Harry didn't laugh as Hayden, Cedric, and Tristan did at the childhood reference. He stood, hands clasped with Blaise and Hayden, feeling suddenly ill.
He hadn't really let himself think about it before but this was the first time he'd willingly used a Portkey since –
"You all right, Potter? You're face is as green as your eyes," Blaise needled quietly from beside him.
"I'm fine," Harry murmured, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, trying to calm his ragged breathing. He was being stupid.
"Three, two, one ..." Cedric's voice seemed a long way off – he felt a sickening jerk behind his navel, heard the whirl of wind as the Portkey yanked them all south. Everything was okay, there was no more Voldemort; no searing, unendurable pain in his scar. There was no traitorous Wormtail waiting on the other end of this Portkey to murder Cedric Diggory…
"Stop being noble," said Harry irritably. "Just take it, and then we can get out of here..."
"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."
"Let's just take it together…"
"Kill the spare."
Cedric –"Harry!"
"Harry…take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…""Daddy, we're here!"
Harry couldn't peel his eyes open, mind stuck in like a reel, running that memory over and over again.
"Harry! Harry!"
"What's happened? What's wrong with him?""Oh, god, is he all right?"
"My god – Diggory!""Stop being stupid, Potter – "
"Diggory's dead!" "I said stop it!"A loud smack followed by an intensely sharp sting finally brought Harry back into the moment. His eyes opened and he sat straight up. Ignoring several cries of surprise as several people threw themselves backwards out of his way, Harry looked sharply around.
"Ow!" He scowled, glaring at them all. "Who slapped me?"
"Do you really have to ask?" Tristan, who knelt near him, jerked a thumb at Blaise, who knelt on the ground next to her, an irritable expression in her purple eyes.
She gave him a sparkling white smile, rather like the smile of a satisfied shark. "You were scaring people, you attention hog," she said. "Draco was going spare."
"You disgust me, Zabini," Malfoy said. He was several feet away, examining his fingernails.
"Was that necessary?" Harry demanded, rubbing his cheek. It burned under his cold hand.
"What happened?" Hayden asked him, looking really worried. Harry saw Malfoy's lip curl.
"Nothing," Harry muttered. "It's – it's just been a while since I used a Portkey, that's all. Sorry I worried you."
"You sure you're all right?" Cedric asked. Harry stared at his son for a long moment. Cedric Potter, Cedric Diggory. He shuddered.
"I'm fine," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He seemed fine. Not dizzy or anything. At least I'm not going to faint like some pathetic ninny, he thought sourly.
Ginny appeared beside him. She didn't say anything, but rested a hand on his arm and gave him a look that was at once sympathetic and bracing.
"It was nothing," he repeated, trying a smile.
"It's always something with you, Potter," Malfoy countered, sneering and glancing around. "So, little Potter. Nice woods you've found for us. Apart from the total lack of trees, the bare and rocky terrain – oh, I'm sorry, did you say a wood or a barren wasteland?"
"Sod right off," Cedric muttered. He had the Marauder's Map spread on a flat rock. Wood, Harry thought, was not really an accurate word for the landscape in which they stood. As Malfoy had pointed out, there were no trees, no greenery anywhere to be seen. The land around them was a stretch of barren brown earth, sprinkled with some very determined patches of brown grass. The ground was mostly gravel and dirt.
"Ced, where are we?" Dorian asked nervously, toying with the strap of Hayden's backpack, which he still carried.
"Not the green woodlands I was hoping for, that's for damned sure," Cedric said under his breath, studying the map intently. "I just don't understand what – oh, bloody hell!"
"What?" The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end as he went to join his son.
"I don't wish to alarm," Cedric said slowly, looking around at them all, "but someone's tampered with my ruddy Portkey!"
"What do you mean, tampered with?" Blaise's eyes widened.
"We're not where we're supposed to be, not even close. Damn it!" Cedric's voice rose a notch. "We're so far away from where we were I don't even know where the hell we are!"
"I don't suppose a sudden appearance of a herd of dragons would tell you where we are?" Dorian whimpered. He'd found a perch on one of the larger rocks and was staring, wide-eyed, into the distance.
"It's a doom of dragons, you insignificant twit," Draco snapped. Then he frowned. "Wait, what?"
"Looks like a bloody herd to me!"
Draco scrambled up the rock and his eyes bulged. "Oh," he said faintly. "We're going to die."
Cedric was almost nose-to-nose with the Marauder's Map. He gave a strangled curse and stuffed it into his pocket.
That was when Harry heard it, or rather, felt it.
"This way!" Cedric led them, with all possible speed, for an outcropping of rock that looked like a downsized version of Stone Henge. Harry looked down at his feet as the earth began to rumble and shake, and the air came alive with the sounds of massive footfalls …
"Here be dragons," Blaise murmured, as the horizon was obscured by scaly death.
)PvsM(
"Oh, Goddess, get us out of this and I swear I'll never lie again!" Blaise prayed under her breath. She pressed flat against a wall of rock not fifty meters from where a group of black dragons snuffled and roared, hissed and growled.
Draco, leaning against the rock next to her and white as a sheet, gave a slightly hysterical snort of laughter. "You're lying right now."
"Shh! Will you two keep it down?" Cedric motioned violently.
"You should be more worried about them scenting us than hearing us, little Potter," Draco retorted as he peered around the rock. He managed a superior look. "Everyone knows dragons can't hear worth a damn."
"If you know so bloody much about dragons, Draco," Potter said, sounding like he wanted to break something, "then why don't you climb up that rock you're leaning on and see what the hell they're doing out there."
Draco stiffened at the challenge but, true to form, he didn't back down. "Fine with me. I'd much rather have my head seared to a crisp than hide like scared little girls with you lot all day." Draco was starting up the rock face when Blaise grabbed his arm. He looked at her hand and rolled his eyes.
"Going to make a teary scene, Zabini?"
"Right, and pixies are going to fly out of my arse."
Draco snickered. "Weirder things have happened."
"Just do me a favor. Don't get yourself fried and leave me alone with Gryffindors."
The blond let go of one of his hand holds long enough to send her a mocking salute. She stood back a bit, and watched until he'd climbed the five meters to the top of the rock, and held her breath as he disappeared over the top.
"Well, Uncle?" Cedric hissed after a long minute. "What do you see? Damn it, are you alive?"
There was no answer. Blaise's palms went clammy.
"Hell, I'll go see what Uncle Draco's up to – probably making a deal with those dragons to have us all for an evening fry-up if they let him go," Dorian growled, dropping his pack and Hayden's and swiftly scaling the wall.
"Ian, be careful!" Ginny stared up at him with wide eyes.
"Not to worry, Aunty," he said cheerfully, pausing to pat her head before continuing upward.
"Cedric, listen!" Potter was talking now, in that low, earnest voice he got whenever he was about to suggest something stupid, usually involving self-sacrifice. Blaise wanted to strangle him.
"I've got a plan," he went on, but she cut him off.
"One that involves you getting the dragons attention while the rest of us make a run for it, no doubt," she said scathingly. "Potter, do you want to die?"
Tired eyes settled on her. "Why? Would you miss me if I were gone, Zabini?"
She scowled and looked away.
"Look, whatever the plan is, it has to happen now," Cedric said. "Out with it."
"Oy, Ced!" came an over-loud whisper from above, along with a spray of pebbles.
Blaise turned her attention away from those too-observant green eyes and squinted up.
"Ian, you all right, mate?" Hayden called up, furiously rotating his shoulder. "Do you see anything?"
"Nope, just your dad's arse. And that sight does nothing to fill me with joy, I can tell you." Hayden snickered. Draco could be heard grumbling a rude response, even as Tristan giggled and Blaise added to herself, "Although a nice arse, it is."
"Enough about Malfoy's arse!" Potter called, looking faintly sick at the thought. "Dragons, people, where are they?"
"Stupid things are just wandering around," Dorian whisper-shouted back. "There's a right mess of them, I can tell you, and – "
"Forget this!" Blaise seized hold of the rough black rock and ignored the pain still sticking into her thighs. "I'm not waiting around for them to smoke us out. Make room, I'm coming up there!"
"Think she's got the right idea," Cedric said slowly to his father. "Higher ground, just like with the trolls?"
"What about Hayden?" Tristan spoke up. When everyone looked at her in amazement, she gave the collective whole a disgusted look. "If Malfoy gets stuck up there because of his gimpy arm, higher ground won't make a hell of a lot of difference, will it?"
"Your concern for my well-being is so touching, Potter," Hayden said, sounding annoyed. "I'm fine," he said to Potter. "I can do it."
"No, she's right, Den," Cedric said. "Stay put. If we're going to get out of here, we'll have to leave from the ground anyway. Tris," he said, "stay with him."
"Oh, Ced, honestly!" Tristan whined, even as Hayden growled a disgusted expletive.
"Park it, young lady!" he said sharply. She glared at him but made no move to follow as the others began to climb different rocks around the little outcropping.
"Next time you're showing concern for my safety, just forget it, Potter," Hayden groused from the base of the rock Blaise was climbing.
"Oh, don't worry," Tristan said with icy scorn that Blaise thought might be masking some other feeling. "I'll be leaving you behind next time."
"I saved your life, you twit!"
"I wish you hadn't bothered!" she retorted. "Just – leave me alone."
Blaise glanced down. Tristan had her back to Hayden and was staring across the flat plain beyond the rock formation. Blaise saw her lip tremble and felt a totally foreign twist in her chest.
)PvsM(
"Let's have a look at the map," Dorian said when Cedric reached the top of the rock. It was crowded and quite high up. Cedric kept looking down to make sure Tristan was safe. He saw her standing with her back to Hayden, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she stared out at the dragons. Honestly, he should have just let her climb!
"Why? Bloody obvious where we are, isn't it?" Draco waved a hand at the dragons, who were moving progressively closer to their hiding spot. "They're Hebridean Blacks. See the purple eyes, the shallow ridges along the back, the arrow-shaped tail?"
"Who cares what kind of dragons they are? This isn't a petting zoo," Blaise muttered.
"No," Draco said with grim certainty. "It's a breeding ground."
"How do you reckon this is a breeding ground, Malfoy?" Harry asked, one eye on the map and the other on the dragons.
"Have you actually read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" Draco shook his head. "Why am I even asking; you're practically illiterate." Harry gave him an unimpressed look and Draco went on, "If you had read it, you'd know that the wizard clan MacFusty have been watching over this breed for centuries, keeping their line strong. They also contain the entire population on a Scottish island, to protect people and protect the dragons. It stands to reason that this – " he finished with wilted triumph – " is their breeding ground. And we've unintentionally invaded it." Draco gave Harry a shadowed glance. "Do I need to remind you how protective dragons get when they've got eggs, Potter?"
Cedric watched Harry go white.
"Bloody hell." Dorian looked ill. Cedric hoped he wouldn't be sick over the side of the rock because Tristan would scream the place down.
"Looks like Red Robes really wants us dead." Blaise pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Not that there was any doubt before," she added in an undertone. Unlike everyone else, she wasn't looking at the map or the dragons. She was scanning the ground near the rock formation, as though looking for something.
"Cedric, can you reset the Portkey?" she asked suddenly.
Cedric blinked, suddenly realizing what she must be looking for. A moment later, he saw the spot where he'd dropped it. It was about ten meters from their hiding spot and the dragons were nearly on it. "I think I could," he said slowly. "But how am I supposed to get to it? I mean, without using magic and having the Unspeakables all over us like a rash?"
Harry suddenly twisted around and fished in his rucksack. He withdrew the shrunken Firebolt tucked away at the bottom.
"I think we can risk a tiny bit of magic," he decided.
"You aren't thinking what I think you're thinking, are you, Potter?" Blaise asked, her eyes fixed on his face.
Harry only smiled.
)PM(
"I can't believe we're doing this," Cedric's disembodied muttered as he and Harry crossed the ground toward the Portkey, each covered by one of the two invisibility cloaks.
"It's going to work. Trust me," Harry whispered, narrowly avoiding losing his head to a long, sharp tail as the dragon nearest them swung around, its nose angled toward their scent.
"All right, but I swear I'm going to the Kneazle's Den and getting good and hammered the moment we reach London."
"Take me with you," Harry retorted in an undertone. "Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
"Point taken. Let's do it."
Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak, threw a leg over his broom, and shot straight up in the air, leaving an invisible Cedric on the ground below, surrounded by fifty dragons.
)PW(
"Is it over yet?" Blaise asked through her fingers. "Just tell me when they're dead."
The entire group stood at the base of the large rock formation again, braced and ready.
Blaise heard Potter yelling and whistling in an effort to get the dragons' attention. Slowly, the massive beasts turned their attention to the skyward commotion. The ground shook as the surprised dragons hopped up and down on the spot. Blaise wondered with distant horror if Cedric was being crushed in the flurry.
"Have they – have they forgotten they can fly?" Tristan said, her grip on Dorian's bicep tightening reflexively.
"Gorgeous creatures," Draco said, shrugging and continuing to look as bored as possible for someone about to charge under a doom of dragons. "Also the dullest breed in the history of dragon breeding."
"Always knew Uncle Harry was round the bend," Dorian said, so tense that he didn't seem to notice Tristan touching him.
"Never mind Ced," Hayden murmured, biting his lip and running a hand over his hair in just the way Draco often did. His eyes scanned the ground where Cedric probably was at that moment.
Blaise dared another peek through her fingers. She wished she hadn't. Potter was diving in and out of the dragons, winding them into a hysterical frenzy. Since the daft beasts still hadn't realized they could fly, too, Potter was forced to go to them. He had already lost half his broom tail. Blaise didn't think her stomach could clench any tighter or her palms could sweat any more.
"There're too many of them for Potter to distract," Draco muttered darkly, watching the proceedings with a deeply furrowed brow. "Little Potter will never be able to get to that Portkey with only Potter to distract them." He scowled. "Bloody Potter egos – shame there's no brain behind them."
Blaise was inclined to agree.
"Den, what the hell are you doing?"
Blaise turned to see Hayden determinedly straddling a broom. His injured arm was cradled against his chest, leaving him one arm to steer with.
"You can't fly a broom with your shoulder like that!" Ginny shrieked when she, too, saw what he was about.
Tristan looked like she'd swallowed her tongue. "Hayden, no!"
"He needs help out there!" Hayden argued crossly, ignoring Tristan and looking at his mother. "Or do you want to see Uncle Harry or Cedric die, not that we'd ever find Ced's body because he's wearing that stupid cloak?"
Tristan looked suddenly faint. "You aren't going out there! I am!" she said abruptly, already digging out her own broom. "They're my family!"
"You what? I don't think so – " Hayden definitely looked her way then.
"Neither one of you is going out there!" Blaise cut in. "Potter's too bloody protective of you. You'll only distract him, and he'll end up killing himself looking after you – "
"Oh, bugger this," Draco growled. He marched forward before anyone could say another word, snatched Hayden's broom, and shot passed them to join Potter's suicidal dance through the air.
"What on earth is he doing?" Ginny clapped a hand over mouth, her other hand firmly gripping Hayden to make sure he didn't follow his father's example. A moment later, she took the hand away from her mouth to catch hold of Dorian as he tried to mount his own broom.
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Blaise murmured with the brittle calm of the hopeless and an iron grip on the back of Tristan's robes. "The idiot's going off to get himself killed!"
)PM(
Harry nearly fell off his broom when he saw who'd come to help.
"Get out of here, Malfoy!" he shouted, ducking between two charging dragons, and barely missed the resulting crash. His ploy worked – the two Hebrideans fell, concussed, with a loud thud to the rock-strewn mountainside. Unfortunately, they fell within inches of the Portkey.
"And let you take all the glory, Potter?" Malfoy, following his example, hovered dangerously in mid-air, baiting the dragons in the hope that they'd eventually remember their expansive wingspan and take off so Cedric and the others could reach the Portkey.
Harry heard a deafening, exasperated roar issue from the dragons now tracking the Slytherin. Their massive heads wove back and forth like hypnotized snakes. Suddenly, one of them let out of breath of searing flame. Malfoy disappeared from view.
"Malfoy!" Harry soared higher as more of the dragons shot hot fiery death into the air around him. Harry sent up a silent prayer for his son somewhere on the ground below and was just wondering if he could get close enough to check on the Portkey when Malfoy appeared through the curtain of smoke. He was coughing but flying very purposefully upward.
"Move your arse, Potter – they're on their way!" Malfoy shouted as he shot passed, broom tail singed, with a mess of dragons who suddenly remembered they could fly on his tail.
Harry didn't need telling twice. He followed Malfoy straight up into the sky, thinking in a distant kind of way, Oh, good. Now Ced can get the Portkey working. He could hear the heavy beat of thick, leathery wings behind him. He felt the air heat with hot breath and ring with roars.
Fortunately, Harry chose that moment to focus on Malfoy, who hand-signaled and veered left. Harry followed, wondering with the blond was up to. Malfoy shot forward a hundred meters before signaling and diving straight toward the ground. Harry flinched, suddenly realizing with the Slytherin was up to. He didn't like it, not one bit, but it was brilliant.
If it worked, anyway ...
)PM(
Tristan's moan of terror cut off as the rock they were all standing on tilted with the force of impact as twenty-five dragons plowed into the dirt.
Blaise's heart was lodged permanently in her throat as she strained to see through the rain of silt and dust. The shower extended twenty meters in every direction – Blaise was relieved Draco had thought to steer them well away from Cedric and the Portkey. The Portkey had vanished into thin air several minutes ago, which Blaise assumed meant it was beneath the invisibility cloak with Cedric. Blaise, Ginny, and their collective off-spring and nephew, stood in a tense huddle, waiting for the signal to run.
Blaise spotted Potter and Draco an instant later.
"Oy! They made it! I can't believe they made it!" Dorian breathed suddenly, pointing as the two seventh years shot forward out of the dust cloud. "Bloody Wronki Feint and everything."
"Been there, seen that," Tristan said with a wild, giddy laugh, watching her father and uncle begin another climb into the air. They still had half the dragons on their tail.
"Come on, Ced, get a bleeding move on," Hayden muttered, squinting at the empty field where Blaise's son and their Portkey probably were.
Ginny squinted up into the sky. "Where'd Draco go? I don't see him!" Ginny caught Blaise's expression and went pink. "Not a word, Zabini. Not a bloody word!"
Draco and Potter appeared to be trying to same trick again, though only half the dragons following them fell for it. Blaise almost lost her footing as a smaller version of the first crash shook the ground.
A disembodied arm suddenly appeared, waving at them from twenty meters away. "Looks, Ced's ready for us!" Tristan said breathlessly. "Let's go!"
Blaise followed the others as they scrambled over the rocky ground toward Cedric and the Portkey. Blaise knew immediately that it would be close – the few dragons who hadn't taken Potter and Draco's bait noticed them coming almost at once. They snarled and came at the group with clumsy, loping gates.
"Heads up!" Dorian bellowed, throwing himself to the side to avoid the snap of jaws as the first beast neared him. The others began dodging as well. Blaise ducked under a dragon's arrowhead tail and pulled Hayden, whose arm was clearly causing him a good deal of pain, out of the way of another.
They were halfway to Cedric when a Hebridean landed right in front of Blaise. She gave Hayden a shove that threw him clear of the massive beast just as she was knocked off her feet. She slammed backward into the ground, the breath knocked from her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut, gasping uselessly for air and waiting for the end.
When she didn't feel any tearing pain and breath suddenly exploded back into her lungs, she blinked –
And saw a reflection of herself in one humongous, iridescent purple eye.
Blaise froze, barely hearing the shouts of the others nearby, and feeling the hot, bitter breath of the dragon as it exhaled, watching her.
Jaws larger than her entire body yawned wide, exposing arm-length fangs dripping with saliva. She didn't dare move and had stopped breathing again. She wondered distantly how much it would hurt to be chewed up and swallowed. Or possibly just swallowed and digested whole – the dragon's mouth was big enough for it.
She waited for the end but, again, it didn't come.
The dragon nodded its massive head, closed its deathtrap mouth, and moved away.
Blaise lay there, trying to remember how to breathe. The desperate shouts of the others helped her drag herself up. If she didn't move, they'd be dead for sure. She struggled to her feet and streaked toward Cedric, now partly visible and clutching the Portkey. She saw the others waiting around him, half hidden under the invisibility cloaks. As she drew nearer, she saw their looked of stunned disbelief. Tristan reached out and pulled her under the shelter of one of the cloaks, hanging onto her so tightly she thought she might stop breathing again.
Everyone pressed close beneath the cloaks, waiting for Potter and Draco to realize they were all ready to go. It didn't take them long – Draco, in the process of leading another group of dragons away from them, shouted something at Potter and pointed.
Potter shouted back and the two of them turned and flew straight into the group of dragons. They vanished from sight for a long moment before bursting through the back end of the dragon's formation and plummeting toward the group of the ground.
They stumbled as they landed, hitting the ground running.
Blaise reached out her hand as they approached, stretching her arm to its fullest. All of them had their hands outstretched, moving in a group toward the two boys who were being rapidly charged by a group of furious dragons.
Potter's eyes met Blaise's as their fingers touched, fumbled and held – and the world spun madly as Cedric activated the Portkey, pulling them all to safety.
)PM(
When the Portkey deactivated, the entire group took a look around, assuring themselves they were in the woods this time, and then collapsed to the ground. Harry noticed that even Cedric, usually so strong and unfazed, lay back in the brush, gasping for air and clutching Tristan to his side. She lay with her face pressed into his shoulder.
Nobody moved or spoke for several minutes – Harry kept a hand on Blaise's arm, just to assure himself that he was alive and so was she. Harry managed to lift his head and look at the rest of them. Ginny had one hand on Malfoy and one caressing Hayden's tear-stained face as he cradled his arm. He must have been in a hell of a lot of pain to finally lose control like that, Harry thought. Malfoy had Ginny's wrist in a white-knuckled grip and lay staring up at the tree canopy with round, unseeing eyes. His chest rose and fell in rapid explosions of breath.
Of the two of them, Harry was the only one who'd flown against a dragon before.
"Good thing our next Portkey is only a few meters away," Cedric said at last. He pointed and Harry could see a sign, pointing at trails leading off in different directions. "There's a bird's nest hidden behind the sign. That's our ticket to London."
Malfoy coughed, the sound rattling his chest, and said in a voice that was a thin rasp, "Do we have to walk anywhere in London? If so, someone will have to carry me."
Ginny laughed a little, the sound thick with tears. She pulled her hands away from Malfoy and Hayden, staring at her palms with a shocked gasp that wiped the smile from her face. "It won't be me," she murmured, sitting up and wincing. "How the hell did that happen?" She winced again. "Will someone else get the first aid kit out of my pack, please? No, Hayden, lie still," she ordered as her son, tears still pooling in his eyes, tried to sit up.
Blaise pushed herself up and slid her way to Ginny's pack. She pulled out the first aid kit and immediately got to work on Ginny's hands. It made sense, Harry thought. Ginny was the healer of the group and she was no good without her hands. She directed Blaise, telling her which potions and bandages to apply. The tense expression and tears in Ginny's eyes disappeared as Blaise worked. After a moment, Ginny's pain was under enough control for her to begin tending the others. Blaise took the opportunity to lie back down. She looked short of breath.
Cedric held up a badly scratched forearm. "I almost feel guilty I didn't get mauled or something."
"Ought to feel damned lucky. I'll be leaning on you, Ced," Dorian said with a hiss as Ginny began bandaging up a long, shallow rip on one of his calves, where a claw had caught him. "I reckon I'm going to be limping for a bit."
"Only until we get to London," Cedric reassured him. "Once we're downtown, I've got some friends who'll put us up. They live in Muggle London and have to have massive shielding around their flat, so we'll be able to use magic to heal ourselves." He grinned, waving Ginny off when she tried to see to his arm. He nodded to Tristan, a silent indicator to treat her first. "Plus," he added, with a spark of a grin, "they'll be tickled to bits that we're on the run. They'll fix us up. Aunt Gin, just mend everyone enough to travel."
Harry coughed into his sleeve. When he pulled it back, he saw blood. He glanced at Malfoy and saw the Slytherin pull his sleeve back with a thin line of red across it. He caught Harry's eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Too much dragon smoke in our lungs," he explained in a hoarse whisper, coughing again.
"Dragon smoke is abrasive when you get too much in you," Ginny explained as she rubbed some potion over Hayden's damaged shoulder. His expression relaxed and he used his good arm to wipe the tears off his face. "I don't have the right potion," Ginny said apologetically. "We'll have to hope these friends of Cedric's do." She glanced at Malfoy. "Sit up – it'll help you breathe."
Malfoy and Harry levered themselves upright. The heat flooding Harry's lungs was still there, scorching his throat and mouth when he breathed, but the coughing, which felt like knives along his exposed skin, stopped. He leaned his forearms on his knees and tried not to breathe too much.
He looked around at everyone. Tristan looked like she'd rolled over and over in gravel. Her hands were the worst, in roughly the same shape as Ginny's. Her palms and the bottoms of her fingers were bandaged and she didn't look as though she were in any immediate pain. Malfoy sat with his back against a tree, looking as though he, too, were trying hard not to breathe. Cedric, probably the least hurt, was making his way to the sign where the Portkey was hidden. His cut forearm was bandaged with a strip of cloth and he looked alert. Dorian limped along beside him, favoring his torn calf.
"Harry, Malfoy." Ginny gingerly pulled two bottles out of one of the packs with her fingertips. "Start drinking as much water as you can. It will help cushion your throat and lungs until I can get you the proper potion."
Thank Merlin for Dobby, Harry thought as he took a careful swallow of the cool water. They'd used up most of their first aid supplies already, but water wasn't in short supply.
Harry's eyes, still wandering the clearing as he drank, settled on Blaise. He felt a cold shiver works its way along his spine. She was on her knees by a small pond in the clearing, staring down at her reflection.
A reflection without so much as a scratch.
"Zabini," Ginny said, approaching her cautiously. "Do you need bandages or potions or anything?"
"I'm fine," Blaise muttered without looking at her. She frowned. "I think I chipped a tooth when I fell but apart from that ..."
"No bruises or cuts or anything?" Ginny asked, frowning at her.
"I said no," Blaise snapped, glaring at the redhead. "Go doctor someone else, Weasley. I'm fine."
"Fine, are you?" Malfoy rasped, throwing her a look. "A dragon almost ate you, Blaise."
Dorian nodded. "It didn't just not eat you – it had you and just walked away. Didn't touch you." He sent her an awed look. "Are you, like, a dragon whisperer?"
Harry saw Tristan roll her eyes.
"Have you ever been attacked by dragons before?" Hayden asked, pushing himself upright and staring at Blaise uneasily. "Have they ever left off killing you, by chance?"
"Look, I don't know what the hell happened!" Blaise exploded, turning away from her reflection and glowering at them all. "Stop looking at me!" She disappeared into a grove of trees near the clearing's edge.
Harry glanced around. Malfoy rolled his eyes, muttering something so soft and raspy Harry couldn't hear. Tristan stared after her mother, Cedric's gaze following hers. Everyone else shrugged and got back to collecting packs or trying at least to gain their feet. Harry hesitated before heading for the grove of trees.
"I just don't understand," he heard Ginny murmur from a ways off, almost to herself. "It's just – most of us saw it. The dragon let her walk away."
"And before that, when the dragon knocked her over," Cedric said. "She should have concussion – she hit the ground so hard! I couldn't believe that she wasn't scratched or bruised or anything."
"I believe it," Malfoy said, his eyes narrowing. "You should see her at Quidditch. She's never hurt or anything. It's eerie."
"But why didn't the dragons go after her?" Tristan murmured, staring at the grove of trees Harry was now nearing.
"She's always had these weird things about her," Malfoy said, his expression grim. "She never seemed to get hurt or sick, in all the time I've known her at school. For Merlin's sake, baby Potter, she jumped off a cliff onto a troll yesterday and all she's got is a bit of a bow-legged walk. She should have broken her legs!"
"Why did you bring that up yesterday?" Ginny demanded.
"I thought someone besides me had brains, Weasley," he sneered. "Think how your body would have broken into a thousand pieces, landing on a troll."
"We can talk about this later," Cedric cut in impatiently. He held the bird's nest in his hand. "Someone get Mum so we can get out of here."
Harry hesitated outside the grove of trees. When he heard a sniffle, he ducked through them.
)PM(
Blaise stared into the clear, rippling water of a small spring within the grove, telling herself that she had gotten lucky, yet again. Maybe her mum had swallowed a gallon of Felix Felicis when she was pregnant with Blaise or something. How was she to know why she never seemed to be hurt by anything for more than a half-hour? How was she supposed to know why her bones never seemed to break?
She kicked a pebble into the water, sniffling as she watched her reflection in the little spring blur and quiver.
"They're just curious," a voice rasped from behind her. "And I think we're all a little paranoid."
Blaise turned to face Potter, swallowing hard. "Everyone's always been a little afraid of me, Potter," she told him quietly, scowling. "Not even healers understand why I'm never hurt by anything. My legs hurting from the jump onto the troll ... that's the most I've hurt in my life." She didn't add that the pain was already gone.
Potter took several cautious steps toward her. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, silently daring him to pity her. "I've spent my whole life being misunderstood by people," he said, offering a little smile. "People fear what they don't understand. Don't worry – it's just part of who you are." His smiled widened. "I won't lie. I'm jealous of a super-powered immune system." He coughed, a look of terrible pain shattering the smile as he bent double, hands on his knees.
She hurried to his side, resting a helpless hand on his back. "Potter? Potter, are you okay?"
He stopped coughing a moment later and Blaise saw the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. She lifted a hand, wiping the red line from his skin while he took several deep breaths and swallowed.
"Thanks," he said, his voice coming out barely a whisper.
"Why?" Blaise began, and paused. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to finish the question. "Why," she began again, "do you always seem to be throwing you life away for people like me? People who don't matter." She clamped her mouth shut as he straightened.
He stared at her, his eyes round behind his ridiculous spectacles. "You matter." He mouthed the words because his voice seemed to have gone. Lifting a hand, he brushed a wisp of black hair off Blaise's cheek. "Of course you matter."
Blaise's lip trembled. "Why?" she murmured, her own voice barely breaking through her lips.
Potter shook his head, looking almost amused. The amusement faded as he bent his head slowly toward hers. Blaise's heart jumped in her chest and her cheeks went pink. She tilted her head and met his lips halfway to hers. She tasted smoke, she tasted blood. His lips brushed gently over hers again before moving to her hair, across her nose. Her hand rose and rested against his chest, feeling his unsteady heartbeat through his burnt shirt. She closed her eyes, tilting her chin and catching his lips again.
When his lips brushed passed her ear, he murmured, "You matter. To me."
)PM(
"Oh, for – Aunt Gin, will you please tell Mum and Dad to hurry up?" Cedric demanded. "We need to get to London before Tristan turns thirty."
His sister shot him a dirty look and Ginny hurried across the clearing to look for Harry and Blaise. When she reached the grove and peeked around one of the trees, she let out a little gasp.
They weren't snogging, though Ginny wished they had been because she felt like she'd walked in on something much more personal. Harry's lips moved gently across Blaise's face, brushing her eyelids, her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. Blaise stood, eyes closed, a hand pressed against Harry's heart.
Ginny backed away, turned to leave them for someone else to interrupt, and walked into Draco's chest.
"While we're young, Weasley," he said irritably, his voice barely fighting its way out of his damaged throat.
"Leave them," Ginny said, her cheeks turning pink as she stepped quickly back. "They're they having a moment."
"Bloody hell," Draco rasped, stopping to cough. Ginny scooted closer to him. When he'd finished, she wiped the blood from his lips with a strip of cloth from the healer's kit and tilted his head up to receive a sip of cool water.
"Trying to distract me?" he asked when he could speak again, his voice a mere whisper.
"Trying to take care of you since you won't do it yourself," Ginny retorted, hating her cheeks for going pinker than they already were. He smirked when he saw the color and she glared at him. She was about to tell him exactly what he could do with the smirk when Blaise and Harry appeared. They moved, a respectful distance between them, to join the others.
"Take your time," Cedric said, glaring at his parents.
"Sorry," Blaise murmured. "Let's get out of here." She glanced at Harry, almost a question. He smiled and nodded.
"Oh, my god," Draco said in a voice that, mercifully, only Ginny could hear. "Potter's snogged her, hasn't he? Look at her face. Oh, Weasley, I think my internal retinas are scarred!"
"Come on, you incredible drama queen," she muttered back, leading the way over to the group. "Don't be git about it."
"Why shouldn't I?" came the whisper in her ear. "The thought of Potter's tongue down anyone's throat makes me feel violently ill."
"It's beneath you to be like this," she retorted as they neared the others. "And also, you're revolting!"
"Yeah? Well, you're…" Draco looked thoughtful,"...ugly."
Ginny gasped in outrage, forgetting to keep her voice down. "Ugly? Me? I'm not exactly Merlin's gift to men, but really!"
"Hit a nerve, did I?"
She scowled at him and was about to join the others, when Draco caught her hand. Pain sliced across her palm and up her arm. She nearly bit through her lip as he tugged her back to face him, and there were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. Her breath left her lungs as if she'd been punched in the stomach. She couldn't make a sound.
He blinked at her, surprised for a moment, before his eyes widened in horror and he dropped her hand. She drew a shaky breath, stifling a moan, as she forced the hand above her heart, willing the throbbing pain to ebb. A wounded sob escaped her despite her best efforts to remain silent, and she bent her head in angry embarrassment, watching the grass beneath her boots blur.
"I…I didn't realize – I mean, I didn't think. I didn't mean to do that," Draco rasped. He sounded lost, unsure what to do to fix the problem and unsure how to cope with the fact that he cared.
She waited until the pain was bearable before she looked up at him. Setting her teeth against the pain still throbbing up her arm, she said shortly, "We should go."
"Wait," he said as she turned away. Something in his voice made her turn back to look at him. He stared at her, lost again and unsure what to do. Ginny stared at him incredulously as he balled up his sleeve and clumsily swiped at her wet cheeks with his sleeve. She blinked more tears out of her eyes, which he caught.
"Don't want everyone thinking I hurt you on purpose," he mumbled, his scratchy voice cutting in and out at intervals.
"I do not understand you," she murmured, shaking her head.
"Yeah, well," he grumbled, tucking his hands away in his pockets. "Join the club."
)PM(
"A bird's nest seems like a weird Portkey to me," Dorian said as the group circled up, leaning on each other in various states of disrepair.
"This whole place is a nature conservation project," Cedric said. "No one is supposed to touch anything, especially not birds' nests. Makes it a perfect Portkey." He gave his parents, Draco, and Ginny grouchy looks. "Now if we're quite through with the premarital bonding, can we please go find some shelter from the Unspeakables and homicidal lunatic on our tails?"
"Some of those Unspeakables probably are homicidal lunatics," Harry murmured, shivering.
"Point made, please can we go?" Tristan begged.
"Yeah, someone needs to get Draco some shampoo," Blaise said, smirking at him. "His hair's all staticky now."
Draco gave a silent yelp of horror and immediately reached for his head.
"Vanity, thy name is Malfoy," Ginny misquoted wearily. "What is it with you and your hair, anyway?"
"Hey," he rasped, glaring at her. "Hair is one of the first things people see when they look at you. You never get a second chance to make a first impression."
She rolled her eyes. "Or in your case, a third, a fourth, and a fifth…"
Draco scowled at her. The others began joining hands around the nest (too small to fit all their hands). Draco reached for her hand again, thought better of it, and wrapped his long fingers around her upper arm. She closed her eyes as she felt the familiar, nauseating jerk behind her navel. Seconds later, her feet landed firmly on smooth cobblestone. She stood blinking at an alleyway that opened onto a long, broad, bustling street beyond.
"Welcome to London," Cedric said, setting the Portkey carefully down behind a large dumpster and leading them into the bustling street beyond.
"If anyone sees my aunt or uncle, let me know," Harry murmured from behind her. "I can't think of a better present for them than to see me and my weird friends hanging around in broad daylight."
)PM(
TBC