Good evening guys! Thanks for all of your reviews (keep em coming!) and views. We're almost up to 8,000 now. Holy balls, that's a huge jump. Speaking of huge jumps, the last chapter was definitely my favorite to write so far. I had to stop because I didn't want to overwhelm you with a 10,000 word chapter, haha. But, what do you think of Narcissa's plan? Will it work? We'll see. ;) Thank you pgoodrichboggs – They'll meet again before the Battle of Hogwarts. I have something special planned for them, and it'll show just how evil Voldemort is. Looonie – I plan to continue this story for some time, even after the war. It'll be truly quite something to watch these characters grow together over time
Chapter 20:
Narcissa had rehearsed the plan with Draco about a thousand times before she felt they were ready to Apparate back to the Manor. Andromeda and Theo had both tried to convince them to stay, but it was a useless cause. The two were going to do what they wanted: it was the Black in them. Andromeda used her wand to rip their clothing and add a few bruises and dirt to make the story believable. Draco had been gifted a scar from the top of his eyebrow to parallel with the bridge of his nose that was still fresh, and Narcissa had shaken out her hair so it looked like she had been through quite a fight. With the final touches done, the two stood before Theo and Andromeda, looking as though they had really been through a significant battle.
Andromeda used the charm to insert the fake memories into Draco's mind. He felt them seeping in as he closed his eyes, seeing the images of Shacklebolt and Lupin continuously interrogating him. They didn't use magic to torture him, but their fists. He saw himself thrown into a cellar where his mother had "found" him when she had been captured. The images of them reuniting were haunting, and the playback of their "escape" was even more terrible. None of it happened, but Voldemort was meant to think it did. But, it wasn't Voldemort Draco was worried about. It was his father. He had grieved over the loss of his son, or so his mother said, but what if the second Lucius saw Draco again, he used him as a pawn, another solider for his beloved "Master?" It made Draco's stomach sour to be given to another person in such a horrendous way.
"Are you ready, darling?" Narcissa asked her son.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Draco muttered. He looked to his Aunt, unsure of what to say. He wanted to say thanks, but it was unusual for a Malfoy… So, he just gave her a quick smile and hoped she understood what he couldn't say. She did, and she smiled back.
"You two better put on quite the show," Theo whistled. "I wish I could be there to see it."
"No, you don't, Theodore," Narcissa scolded him. "Make sure he goes back to Hogwarts."
"Not to worry, Cissy, I have the situation under control," Andromeda said with a pointed look to the young Master Nott beside her. "Be safe; I can't lose you two again."
"We will be," Narcissa promised her sister and squeezed her son's hand. "Thank you, Andromeda."
Andromeda waved as the two Apparated to the gates outside Malfoy Manor. Narcissa had warned Draco that there were likely to be patrols at all times outside the Manor, so their charade had to begin the moment that they landed. The mother and son landed clumsily outside the wards, Draco making himself limp as his mother held him. He was already regretting going through with this idea and was beginning to realize what a stupid plan this really was. But, they were too far into it now. He heard his mother screaming for help, and mentally congratulated her on being such a good actress. It was, after all, how she had put up with Voldemort and his father for all of these years…
It wasn't long before footsteps began approaching. Narcissa looked up into the gates knowing that Lucius had changed the wards not long after she left and she wasn't recognized to get through, and Draco certainly wouldn't be, considering everyone thought he was dead. She kept up her act, tears streaming down her face now, and she could feel the blood Andromeda had caused seep from a cut in her lip. It was early evening, and the sky around them was completely dark. But, even as the five men moved closer to her, she recognized her husband's form and stature. She saw him cast away the wards with a flick of his wand and his grey eyes, so much like his son's, stared down in shock at his wife and his son in her lap.
"Lucius…" Narcissa cried, trembling as she held Draco. Draco willed himself not to look at his father. It wasn't hard to do.
"Cissa, is that…?" Draco heard his father drop down to his level, his robes creating a vacuum that sucked the air away from Draco's lungs. "Draco! He's alive? What happened, Cissa?"
Narcissa stroked Draco's hair with shaky fingers. "He is alive. Not here, Lucius. It's not safe, we have to get inside!"
Lucius hovered Draco into the castle, while his wife and the men that accompanied him followed him into the Manor. Draco hung as limp as he could, not daring to open his eyes. He heard his father's footsteps, the ones he tried so memorize as a child, quickly ascend up a stairway. He knew where he was being taken: the dining room, on the long drawn out table that the Death Eaters used for their meetings. That meant Voldemort himself would inspect him. If that didn't send his anxiety into a spin, he didn't know what else could. Eventually, he felt his back on a hard and cool surface, and knew it was time to play his part well. Several seconds passed before he heard the Dark Bastard begin to speak.
"Well, well, Lucius. What do we have here?"
Voldemort's voice itself sent shivers down Draco's spine, and he tried not to tremble.
"My son and wife, My Lord," his father replied hastily.
"I see that, Lucius," came the smooth voice in reply. "Do you care to explain what happened, Narcissa?"
"Of course, my Lord," Draco heard his mother's shaky voice respond. "I was on Holiday out of the country in Norway visiting my Black family relatives, and I was kidnapped by a member of the Order, Kingsley Shacklebolt, I believe his name was. He took me somewhere, and I don't know where, but I was thrown into a cellar where I found Draco. We fought our way out and came here."
Voldemort was silent for a few moments and in those few moments, Draco panicked. He didn't know whether Voldemort would believe it or not, but he heard a faint whisper and knew that he was using Legimiency on his mother, just as he predicted Voldemort would. When the Dark Bastard saw that what she said was "true", he heard him praise her for being a good servant and gave Lucius permission to check his son over and heal him. Lucius and Narcissa both thanked the Dark Bastard over and over again and Draco felt himself being levitated into another room and lowered onto a soft mattress.
His mattress. His room. He bid himself to open his eyes now, and when he did, he felt calmer than he had in months. He was in his room, in his home, and it had been untouched. There were still the green and silver on the walls, the black armchair by his desk, and even some of his notes scattered about. His blankets were still in a neat pile next to his black dresser, and his trophies and achievements still on his desk. This was his safe space, and for the first time in a long time, he did feel… safe.
"Draco," Lucius said sharply as Draco "came too" and looked about himself. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, Father," Draco replied shakily, as he was just coming about using his voice again.
"Good. What bastard this to you? Tell me and I will make them wish they never lived!" Lucius demanded.
Draco took a good, hard look at his father. He looked weary, and not the man he was when Draco last saw him. The light had left his eyes; they reminded him very much of his own when he was beaten down and lost for hope. Lucius looked as though he had been tortured relentlessly, and still had faith in the being torturing him. There was something off about him; maybe his appearance or his mental state. But, Draco wasn't sure, and he definitely didn't want to find out.
"There were so many people there, Father…" Draco said wearily, almost dramatically.
"Lucius, let him rest," Narcissa laid a hand on his father's shoulder. Lucius didn't even acknowledge it, but continued to stare at his son in disbelief that he was actually in front of him.
"What are the extent of your injuries, Draco?" his father asked.
Draco pretended to wince as he sat up. "A few broken ribs."
"Good. Nothing some Skele-Gro won't fix," Lucius nodded curtly. "You'll be back doing the Dark Lord's bidding in no time at all."
With that and a nod to his wife, his father left the room, closing the door behind him. Draco put his act aside and took in his surroundings happily. Narcissa never thought she would see her son this ecstatic again – or even see him again – so it made her heart warm to see his father didn't affect him negatively. If he had, Draco had a good way of hiding it. Something she had taught him to do since he was a young boy.
"You look happy, darling," she commented as Draco stood up and opened the window.
He didn't care how cold it was outside. He loved breathing in the fresh air. "I am, mother."
"You need to go back into the meetings as soon as possible," Narcissa told her son. "I will have Spark fetch Skele-Gro for you, and some pain potions. You'll be able to be 'back to normal' by tomorrow morning."
Draco stared out the window, reality sinking over him. He wasn't at home on a break, and the world didn't magically rid itself of the becoming war. As he watched the snow fall, his mind drifted off into foreign places. He barely registered his mother walking from his bed and squeezing his shoulder. He didn't even notice when she left the room and closed the door. His eyes focused on the lake surrounding the back of his house, and how the evergreen and pines were iced over and looked magical. It was surreal, and he was free… He wondered about Hermione, and resented how much his heart missed her. Was she okay? At least she wasn't captured. If she was, she would be here and he would have known by now. A part of him knew she wasn't dead.
Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket and whispered the incantation to summon his Patronus. A large snow leopard bounded from his wand and turned to face him, waiting for its task. He hadn't thought this all the way through, but he knew what he wanted to say. To find Hermione and let her know that he was safe. The animal seemed to understand, and bounced out the window of Draco's room, twirling itself through the trees until it was a dim spark in the sky.
Even though his house-elf had come in and beckoned him to bed, the young man was lost in thoughts of Hermione's bed and warm hot chocolate. When Spark soothed her Master into taking the Skele-Gro, which tasted vile and like lumpy vomit, to heal the bones that weren't broken, Draco's mind wandered to thoughts of Hermione's smile and how she used that intelligent mind of hers. When Spark assured her Master that he would be okay, and that he had been through a lot worse, Draco couldn't help but agree. He patted his elf between her ears and smiled at her. His father had left a bad impression on Malfoy's about their attitudes towards their elves, but his mother had raised him to always be appreciative of Spark. She was a Black Family Elf, which means she only served members of the Black family, not the Malfoy's. Since Draco was half Black, he had grown up with Spark, and was quite fond of her.
"Thanks Sparky," he said softly.
"Sparky missed Master," she told him. "You be alright. Sleep now. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Sparky," Draco whispered and slid beneath his covers, desperately wishing he was still at Hogwarts snuggled in Hermione's sheets instead.
It was quite a few days before Hermione was able to take her watch, and she was quite glad to escape Ron's continual comments about how much he missed her. She had used a glamor charm to cover up the bruises on her neck, but with great reluctance. It was all she had to remind her of the six months spent with the Slytherin Prince. She had grabbed "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" off the table in the kitchen, bid the boys a goodnight, and went outside into the brisk air for some peace and to read.
She had set up wards surrounding their campsite, just in case they needed them. It wasn't very likely anyone knew where they were, but Hermione (unlike Harry and Ron), was always precautionary. Especially when it came to instances such as this. She cast a warming shield around herself and lowered herself to the base of a tree, covered herself with a wooly blanket, and began reading. The biography was written none other than Rita Seekter, and as vile as the woman was, the biography was just as meticulous. Hermione was almost certain that half of what the writing said wasn't true. As she was on the seventh chapter, she remembered what Dodge had said at Bill and Fleur's wedding the summer before: "Dumbledore was not the man you think he was."
Hermione slumped back against the tree, deep in thought, flipping through the pages of the book aimlessly until she stumbled upon a photograph of Dumbledore and the same man she saw from the photograph at Bagshot's cottage. They looked young and happy… They looked like they could have been best friends. But, when she read the caption below and saw who that man truly was, she was back in the tent in an instant, panting and throwing the book down on the table between Harry and Ron.
"Jesus 'Mione, what happened?" Ron asked, studying her.
"That's him," Hermione said breathlessly and pointed to the picture. "That's Grindelwald."
Harry took the book in his hands and looked the picture over. "It can't be. You can't possibly believe that Dumbledore helped Grindelwald, Hermione? He was an evil wizard."
"Harry's right, Dumbledore was a lot of things, but evil was not one of them," Ron said.
Hermione stared at the boys and couldn't stand their incompetence. "Harry, the proof is right there. The men in that picture look happy, they obviously weren't at war with one another like Dumbledore claims they were."
"I really don't believe that he would conspire with Dark Wizards," Harry shook his head. "Why are you believing this rubbish anyway?"
Hermione thought back to all the hours Draco and her had spent figuring out clues and trying to help her friends. She thought of all the information on Grindelwald she had recovered, but nothing pointed to Dumbledore. His name was never mentioned. She slumped down at the table and took the book in her hands again, studying the picture. That's when something caught her eye. Around both men's necks was a necklace… it was a symbol, a strange one. She narrowed her eyes; she had seen it before… but where?
"What are you looking at?" Harry asked, coming to peer over her shoulder.
"This symbol," Hermione replied softly, tracing her finger over it. "I've seen it before."
"It's a symbol, Hermione," Ron rolled his eyes.
"I'm sorry you never understood the importance of Ancient Runes, Ronald," Hermione snapped before thinking hard. "I'm going to figure out where I've seen this before. Something doesn't add up."
Hermione rummaged in her bag for her books about Ancient Runes and grabbed a few more, just in case. She retreated outside again, and wondered how the hell Harry and Ron had survived without her for this long. She couldn't believe they had gotten as far as they did. Even though the boys were trying to figure out where the Sword of Gryffindor was and how to get their hands on it, Hermione knew there was something up with this symbol and it took prescience over anything else.
She spent what felt like hours searching through the books using the tip of her wand for light, but couldn't find any information pertaining to it. Frustrated and confused, she didn't know where to go from here. It seemed as though that was the direction her life was taking now. Harry and Ron hadn't come to check on her, and she was quite thankful they had laid off their attacks at comforting her and telling her how happy they were she had come found them. She just needed to be alone; it was how she worked best anyway.
As Hermione was searching through the last book, a strand of light off in the distance caught her eye. She carefully put down the book and took off her blanket, raising her wand but whispering "Nox" to put out the light. She crept towards the edge of her wards, past the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping boys. The wards stopped her towards the edge of the treeline, and Hermione realized that it was a Patronus. Torn between running inside or facing it, she decided to be brave and face it. It could do her no harm. So, she crouched down to its level and watched as it approached her, slowly now that she had come into view. It was a snow leopard, tracking the terrain with its heavy paws. She hadn't the slightest idea whose Patronus it could be, but beckoned it to her anyway.
As the animal approached her, it nuzzled against her outdrawn hand and spoke in Draco's voice: "I'm safe. Hope you are too." With that, the animal took one look up into her eyes and dissipated into thin air. She heard footsteps behind her, and prayed to Merlin that it wasn't Ron. Harry sat down beside her cross-legged and looked at her with amusement.
"You weren't lying," he pointed out.
"You thought I was?" she rebutted with raised eyebrows.
"Who ever thought Malfoy's Patronus would be a leopard?" Harry wondered aloud.
Hermione hit his arm. "It's quite fitting, really. I'm glad he's safe."
"That's what it said to you?" Harry asked and leaned back into the ground so he was on his back completely.
"Yes," Hermione nodded, and gazed off into the forest. "I've been thinking, Harry. That symbol isn't in any of my Rune books. It's quite an oddity."
"Maybe it's not a Rune, Hermione," Harry shrugged. "Not all things can be found in books."
"Just because you and Ronald think that it doesn't mean I do," Hermione snipped back and wrapped her arms around her legs. She missed Draco something fierce, and it was beginning to physically hurt. "If it's not a Rune, what is it?"
"A symbol," Harry replied simply. "It may pertain to dark magic, if you truly believe that Dumbledore dabbled in it."
The gears in Hermione's brain began to click away, one at a time, faster and faster until she looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Oh my God."
Harry sat up in fright. "What?"
"Voldemort is after The Elder Wand," Hermione said and scrambled to her feet. Harry scrambled to his, never once hearing of this Elder Wand before in his life. But, with the fear Hermione had just instated in him, he realized it must have been extremely important.
Harry followed Hermione's quick pace to her books, where she grabbed them and the blanket and headed inside the tent with Harry on her heels. For the second time that night, she slammed her books on the table in front of the boys and sat down, trying to organize her thoughts and books. Ron asked Harry what was going on, to which he replied that he had no idea. But, Hermione's brain was in full throttle.
Draco had uncovered that Voldemort was after an all-powerful wand, probably because of the Twin Cores that his and Harry's shared. That way, this wand would be able to defeat Harry once and for all. But, that wasn't all. When Draco had read "The Tale of Three Brothers" to Hermione, she had noticed something on the pages of the book she had borrowed from McGonagall and never returned. She didn't think much of it because it was a children's book, but now, now she was beginning to realize that it meant something. She found the book and opened the cover… and there it was.
"That's the same symbol Dumbledore was wearing," Ron pointed out. "Why the bloody hell is it in a children's book?"
Hermione sat back in her chair and looked at Harry and Ron with a blank stare. "Harry, do you know what the Elder Wand is?"
"No…" Harry began only to have Ron cut him off.
"Mate, you've seriously never heard of it? The stick of Destiny? The Deathstick? It is an all-powerful wand. It was meant to destroy everything and anything," Ron explained. And Hermione nodded to Ron. "Why, 'Mione?"
Hermione sighed. "Voldemort is after that wand."
Ron's eyes widened and he fell back in his chair, slumped in it like a toddler. "How do you reckon?"
"I figured it out with some help," Hermione told Ron, locking her eyes with his for the first time since she had been back. "Voldemort wants that wand so he can defeat Harry, mark my words. It explains why he had Death Eaters invade Hogwarts."
"Hermione, no offense, but that wand is a bedtime story…" Ron said slowly. "There's been people who have claimed to have it, but… it's never been proven."
"McGonagall said the same thing when I went to her, and then Death Eaters took over the school," Hermione mused and crossed her arms. "Voldemort would have to have control of Hogwarts so he could get the wand from its rightful owner. The one it was buried with."
Harry's eyes widened in realization. "That's why he was after Ollivander!"
"I'm sorry, am I missing something?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between his two friends for a bloody explanation.
Harry began to pace around the tent, his chin in his hand and the other combing through the back of his hair. "Voldemort wanted a way to stop the twin cores from connecting with eachother, so he went after the Elder Wand. He questioned Ollivander because he was the most famous wandmaker in London and Scotland, but he didn't have the answers he wanted."
"So, he did some searching of his own, found Grindelwald, who stole the Elder Wand, but it was stolen back from him," Hermione continued explaining, thinking aloud. "Grindelwald knew who stole it, and told Voldemort. Voldemort had no longer any use for the man so… he killed him. He had all the information he needed."
"Let me get this straight," Ron said slowly, his hands on the table laced together. He looked up at Hermione. He recounted the story to which the two friends nodded to him in agreement. "The wand is buried with Dumbledore then? Bloody hell, it's been right under our noses the entire time!"
"Sounds like Dumbledore," Harry said and sat down next to his best friend. "We have to get that wand."
"We have to destroy that Horcrux," Hermione pointed to the locket sitting at the edge of the table. "That is our first priority. We can deal with Voldemort's wand seeking later."
"Hermione, do you know how many horrible things he will do with that wand?" Harry asked, his mouth agape that she had just dismissed the possibilities like they didn't mean anything.
"I do. But, you also can't defeat him without destroying the Horcruxes. We have to do that first," she replied. "Where are you two on finding the sword?"
"Nowhere," Harry said softly. "If the one in the Headmaster's office is indeed fake, and if he did leave it with Bagshot, Voldemort has it now."
"Swords aren't the only thing that can destroy Horcruxes, Harry," Hermione told him. "Keep working on it. This symbol, it means something. It has to do with all of this, I can just tell. I'm going to keep working on it. Keep me updated."
Draco was ready to attend the Death Eater meeting the following week, after special treatment from his mother and Sparky. His father hadn't paid him any mind since he had been home, but he thought that was a blessing instead of a curse. He quickly found that most of the Death Eaters were in and out of the Manor on almost a daily basis, and that Voldemort himself had moved in. It made his blood boil to even think about it. He couldn't even go to the kitchen without setting eyes on that bloody snake. Narcissa assured him the situation would not be permanent, and even though it felt like hell now, it would pay off in the end. Draco prayed his mother was right.
Meetings were always held at midnight in the dining area. It was just custom. Draco remembered from his year as a Death Eater that they were sporadic and never well-planned. Everyone just showed up the Manor when their Mark burned. When he was eating in the library, his nose nuzzled in a book about Horcruxes (that he had disguised as a potions book), his father entered and strolled up to him. For the first time in a long time, Draco saw Lucius smile.
"There is a meeting tonight, son," he told Draco. Draco put the book on the table beside him and stood. He realized that he was an inch taller than his father now. "You will be there."
"Yes, father," Draco said.
"What you did was noble. You will be most rewarded," Lucius said to his son. "The Dark Lord has something special planned to give you for your efforts of valor, Draco."
"I'm looking forward to it," Draco matched his father's cool tone. Lucius nodded to his son and left the library, leaving Draco to fall back into his chair and take deep breaths to calm himself.
He didn't know how Voldemort had intended to "reward" him and he didn't want too. Knowing Snake Eyes, it was something terrible. But, that was something that he couldn't worry about now. He grabbed the book off of the table and began to flip through it again. The part he was reading was truly intriguing, and he thought it would help Hermione if he could find out where some of the Horcruxes were located. She had mentioned there were seven; how Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces was way beyond Draco, but he wouldn't put anything past that bastard now. The book noted that whatever the Horcrux was contained in, it would hold a personal meaning for the person splitting their soul. Draco put down the book on his lap and began to think.
What was Voldemort close too? His father? No, his father would not be a Horcrux. The snake. Obviously, the thing never left his side and when he wasn't able to do his demented plans, she went out and did it for him. One of the most recent was when she had eaten a person whole. Alive. Draco shuddered; what a horrible way to die. So, Nagini was one out of seven. Hermione had also told him that two more were also destroyed, so that left four. Potter and Weasley had one: the Locket. But, Draco knew that there were certain ways to destroy the Horcruxes. He began to flip through the pages again until he found what he was looking for: Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, and the killing curse were the only noted ways to destroy a Horcrux. And it wasn't so easy as blasting them to oblivion, either. He didn't know that Potter had signed up for such a difficult task.
"Draco? Dinner's ready!" he heard his mother call.
The young man put down the book and rose to his feet. He had worn his normal attire; a black suit with velvet lining around the edges of his sportcoat. Physically, he felt and looked like a Malfoy again. His blonde hair had a fringe and was styled back ever so proper. He was back to wearing suits and having servants tailor to his every need. But, on the inside, he felt less and less Malfoy and more and more Black. The Malfoy's were always known for their power, and his father had used that to his advantage to further Voldemort's cause. Draco sincerely hoped that if he survived this war that he would be able to change the Malfoy legacy.
As he left the library, he levitated the book back into its place and replaced the dust so it looked like it hadn't ever been touched in his lifetime. Hermione would've loved it: the smell of old books and the dim light… it was a bookworm's heaven. His mind had been clouded with memories of her since he arrived back at Malfoy Manor, and his heart broke every time a Snatcher came to his father or Voldemort and reported that they had captured another Muggle-Born. He knew his mother noticed the look in his eyes as well, and she willed him to stay strong.
Stay strong him for him.
Stay strong for her.
Stay strong for Hermione.