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A/N: This took a little longer than expected, but at least you didn't have to wait a month this time... Updates from now on will be slightly sporadic, due to school having started, but we will try to keep a once a week/every two weeks schedule. Not even the lack of reviews will stop us!

Now... read, enjoy, and review!

10 – The Deal

In which Harry gets glomped, something which we feel doesn't happen enough times in the books.

Harry didn't look up as the door opened. It would only be Crinkly again, bringing some bread like she had done twice a day for a week.

"You're a bit early, aren't you?" he muttered.

"I was not aware that we had an appointment," said the old Malfoy. "But if you say so, I suppose I must believe you."

Harry glanced up.

"Oh, it's you."

A week's diet of bread and water, coupled with the cold and the fact that he was being imprisoned for no apparent reason, had him feeling rather upset. However, he lacked the energy to lash out.

"Indeed it is," said the Malfoy. "I trust you have fared well this last week."

"Can't say I have, no," said Harry. "You?"

"Oh, fine, fine," he said, amused. "You would not like it outdoors though, with this awful, boring weather. It has been raining."

"Ah."

Harry was in no mood for small talk, but the Malfoy was persistent.

"I wonder how you got here, Mr Potter. Neither you nor Miss Granger seem to possess a time-turner."

"Search the ocean for it if you like. Why? Do you collect them too?"

"As it happens, yes," said the Malfoy, sighing. "However, I took the liberty of appropriating this other time-related object. It is most fascinating. I have learnt many things of the future from time-travellers, but that they carry clocks on their wrists I did not know. Quite extraordinary really."

"My watch… you took my watch?"

"Watch you call it? Such funny words…indeed I did, and I took your wand as well, for obvious reasons. Don't want you running loose in this house, do we? Accidents can occur, you see. You never do know with the old girl." This last he directed at the ceiling.

Harry stared. He had thought the Malfoy was a bit insane, but this was a whole new level of craziness. He'd known many lunatics in his life, but he wasn't sure how to handle this.

"But I seem to recall you being a straightforward young man," said the Malfoy, changing his tone at once. "Eager to have things out in the open. So, on to business. My first object of this visit was to ask you about the time-turner, and now that that has been taken care of, I have a proposition for you."

"Go on," said Harry cautiously.

"Well, the situation stands thus; as you are no doubt aware, some of the goblins that dwell in these parts are growing restless. As with those in London, they feel they are being treated unfairly, that they should be allowed their rights. I believe they are trying to organise a small rebellion of some sort, and I have often supported them in monetary fashion."

The Malfoy started pacing. Harry, despite himself, was listening attentively.

"Lately, however, their methods have started to worry me, and I have withdrawn my backing. This, as you can understand, has aggravated them considerably. I have a nephew, Mr Potter. He is around your age. A rather unpleasant sort, make no mistake, but still, he is… young, and perhaps salvageable. Whatever the case, he is my heir, and will inherit this house. If something should happen to him, well… there are few things in this world that I care about, and this house… I simply cannot let it pass to the Yorkshire Malfoys!"

For the first time, Harry noted that the old Malfoy looked agitated.

"At least the Cornwall branch has a sense of honour, but the Yorkshire Malfoys leave only ruin in their wake. They will be the ones who will end up defaming the family name they cherish so deeply. This house could not survive them. But now the goblins have my nephew, as you might have gathered, and are demanding ransom. I had planned on delivering him from their hands myself, but some recent intelligence shows that that could be a risky venture for me to make. They are vengeful, goblins. Which brings me to the proposition."

"You want me to give them the ransom? Is that right?" said Harry.

"You guess correctly."

"And what do I get in return?"

"Why, your freedom of course."

"What about Hermione?"

"Well, we shall see."

"Forget it then."

"Do not be so hasty. Consider it for a while."

"I'll consider it if you consider letting Hermione go too."

"I cannot do that. The freedom of one person in exchange for that of another is, I think, a fair bargain."

"Then free her instead of me!"

"Perhaps I could do that, although you are not half as entertaining to converse with."

"And she gets the potion."

The Malfoy frowned. He didn't say anything for a moment, and appeared to be thinking hard.

"Let us leave that for her to decide, shall we?" he said finally.

"Fine, I'll think about it," said Harry.

"Good day to you then. And I hope," he said, as he left, "that that manacle isn't bothering you all too much."

Harry chuckled mirthlessly.

-

The days went by, and Harry considered the offer like he had promised. He also tried to find some other way of escaping from the dungeon, but to no avail. He didn't want to accept the proposition, since he had no idea if the Malfoy would keep his word, and didn't want to play it on his terms. Besides, if the goblins really had been planning on setting a trap for the Malfoy, Harry didn't want to fall into it. That wouldn't help either his or Hermione's chances of getting home.

On the other hand; if they actually managed to escape from the castle some other way, there would still be the minor problem of Hermione's vampirism to deal with. He supposed she could learn to live with it – others had, after all. But since he knew there was a potion, and that there was a chance to get it, however slim, he had to try. It could help Hermione, her colleague, and anyone else who might want to be cured. If he could get the Malfoy to promise to free Hermione and give her the potion, wasn't it worth the effort?

And anyway, what other options did he have?

This was worth pondering, and ponder he did, for quite a while.

Eventually, the Malfoy paid his second visit.

"I feel you have had quite enough time to decide," he said. "It has been a week to the day, since we talked last. Oh dear, it is freezing in here! I must have forgotten the warming charms."

"So you must," said Harry, who knew full well he had "forgotten" on purpose. It was as if he was back at the Dursleys' again. Granted, they hadn't manacled him.

"Well, have you decided?" the Malfoy asked impatiently. "That is what I came here to find out. And… I must add, that should you decline my kind offer, I shall be forced to cut off your supply of bread. Winter is coming, and I must conserve my stores."

"I understand. But I'd like to ask you something about the terms first. Can I have my wand if I go?"

"Certainly. I would not ask you to go into the goblins' lair unarmed."

"Of course not. And what about the potion?"

"I have mulled it over, and my answer stands," said the Malfoy, "If you fulfil your bargain, and if your friend does indeed want it, she shall have it, and I shall set her free. You will starve to death whatever happens. Is this agreeable to you?"

Although he knew he would find some way of escaping – he always did – his stomach knotted at the prospect of ending his a days in that dungeon. Still he said; "Yeah, that's quite alright."

The Malfoy nodded, satisfied.

"Come," he said. "I shall give you your wand, your instructions, and the ransom money."

He started to walk out the door.

"Er… the manacles?"

He stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, pardon me," he said, and with a wave of his wand, Harry was free. "I do not know what has gotten into me this day. I have a terrible cold, that must be it… well, follow me then."

-

As soon as Harry was out of sight of the house, he started running. It felt good to move, breathing in the fresh night air after having spent just over two weeks cooped up in a small, dark dungeon. The air was chilly, and the ground was sprinkled with frost which glittered in the moonlight. He could hear waves breaking against the cliffs in the distance.

He couldn't keep up the running for long. His limbs were aching, stiff from weeks of sitting down, and he felt unbearably hungry and tired. For about twenty minutes he had been happy to be out of the manor. Now he began to wonder how he was going to reach the goblins before collapsing.

When he broke through the trees, he realized he was near the edge of the cliff, quite close to the place where they had first started their ill-planned journey, four hundred years into the future. He was wondering how he might get something to eat and maybe find some place to sleep where he wouldn't freeze to death, and wasn't really thinking about where he was going. The sound of voices jerked him out of his reverie. They seemed oddly familiar.

"We're in the sixteen hundreds now. Aren't we?"

"I don't know. Do you want to ask someone?"

He was dreaming. He had already fainted, and he was dreaming. It couldn't be.

"There's nobody here. Except…"

Ginny looked up at him. Their eyes met. For one long heartbeat, nobody said a word. Then Harry, trembling like a leaf from the shock and disbelief coupled with exhaustion and cold, took a few stumbling steps forward.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

And Ron was pointing his wand at him.

"Ron," said Ginny, in a strangled whisper. "I think it's… it's him!"

Ron's arm dropped limply to his side.

"Are you sure?"

Ginny didn't answer. She was already running towards him.

"No," said Harry weakly. "Don't tackle… I'm not feeling very well…"

It was too late. Ginny flung herself at him and they went sprawling.

"Ouch," he managed to say.

"Harry! You're alright! You're alright! Are you alright?"

"Ginny, get off him," said Ron. "He looks like seven shades of hell."

Ginny stopped hugging him, and sat up. Harry gazed at the two of them from the ground. They were obviously deeply shaken. Ginny had tears streaming down her face, and Ron was staring at him as though he had risen from the grave. Then it dawned on him.

Of course, it must have seemed to them as if he and Hermione had died.

"Blasted off the cliff by Death Eaters, bodies washed out to sea… yeah, it looked pretty bad," said Ron, as if he had read his thoughts.

"Pretty bad?" Harry muttered he got to his feet, ignoring the protests from his tormented muscles. "You don't know half of it."

"Why? And where's Hermione?" Ron said, his eyes searching the trees as if he expected her to jump out from the shadows, yelling "surprise!".

"Hermione… eugh, this is going to take some time to explain. Hermione…"

"She's not… Don't tell me she's…" Ron had suddenly turned white as a sheet.

"Well," said Harry, supporting himself on Ginny. "Yes and no."

That had not been the most tactful way to put it, he realized, as Ron sank to the ground in despair.

"Ron, get up! Don't you understand?" said Ginny unexpectedly. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

Harry was all too happy to let her take over for a while, as he allowed himself to just absorb this new turn of events. Ron and Ginny were there! That evened out the odds. Together they would be capable of doing things, like coming up with a plan; something which his tired brain couldn't have been able to think of by itself. Things were looking up.

They quickly stopped doing so however, as his legs gave way. The last thing he felt was Ginny grabbing hold of his arm, exclaiming something.

"Ginny, let go of my arm," he muttered. "I'm just going to sleep for a moment."

The ground came up to meet him, and everything went dark.

End of part II