In celebration of my school being cancelled today because of the snow, I decided to write a chapter. Everyone cheer for Jarlaxle. It's been a while this time. Newsflash, I know. At least it hasn't been more than a month, like some of my previous updates….

Chapter 19

"He Won't Die"

"The Order will take care of it, Harry," Lupin said firmly.

"I'm part of the Order," Harry retorted furiously. "I want to help."

"I meant the part of the Order that has no obligation to stay alive and out of Voldemort's clutches. We'll get him out of there, don't worry. You have a duty to fulfill here, one that's at least as important as rescuing Bill."

They were back in Harry's office once again. Lupin sat, looking very tired, in an armchair by the fire, and Harry paced madly up and down. Hermione leaned against a wall, deep in thought, and Ron was spread-eagle on the rug, his hands locked behind his head, looking from Harry to Lupin as their argument continued.

"It won't take away from my teaching duties to be gone for one or two nights," Harry persisted.

"Yes, but what if your killed? Or captured? Do you have any idea what kind of repercussions that would have on the Order?"

"I won't!" he protested.

"If Malfoy is to be believed, Bill is being held secretly at Pendragon Castle in Cumbria. There are a lot of rumors surrounding that place, and I don't know how many of them are true, but it's said to be bewitched. You're not going."

Harry was about to snap back, but Hermione interjected. "Harry, he has a point. The Order is full of wizards and witches more…" she paused. "Uh… this is going to make me sound cruel, but… more dispensable than you. Probably more apt at this sort of thing as well.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Ron, who had remained in solemn, frightened silence until that point, said hoarsely, "Drop it, Harry. I'm not going to lose you too."

Lupin stood and picked up his coat. "I have to go. You had all better get to bed. I'll find McGonagall and tell her what's happened." He looked Harry in the eyes. "Whatever happens, don't leave the castle grounds. Promise me you'll stay on the grounds."

Harry nodded reluctantly.

His hand clasped Harry's shoulder for one brief moment, and then he swept out the door.

There was a long silence, then Ron said quietly, "We should get to bed."

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They heard nothing about anything for more than a week and a half. Every day, Ron grew more anxious. By the time the next Wednesday rolled around—two days before , he had become utterly silent and brooding. Harry and Hermione tried in vain to assure him that the Order would free his brother, but nothing seemed to work. Professor McGonagall had returned to the school, but she hadn't said anything about it. Finally, after Harry's final class on Wednesday, she summoned him to her office.

Harry entered apprehensively, unsure what to expect. The headmistress sat at the desk, reading a long roll of parchment that had dropped off the edge and rolled halfway across the floor.

"Please be seated, Potter."

He did so. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You are aware, of course, that Draco Malfoy professes to know the whereabouts of Bill Weasley."

The 'professes to' part scared him. Professor McGonagall didn't believe Malfoy.

"I don't believe him," she stated matter-of-factly.

Harry remained silent, his mind flying through everything that had happened, like it had done so many times over the last eleven days. And, like every time, he arrived at the same conclusion. Malfoy was telling the truth.

"I think it's a ruse," Professor McGonagall continued. "Voldemort sent him, telling him to act like a madman in order to prove his harmlessness. But he's here to lead us straight into a death trap."

He was already shaking his head. "They tortured and killed his mother before his eyes. You think that was a ploy to get us to believe he's on our side?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hardly shuns killing, Potter," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "He would not be averse to killing one of his followers in order to deceive us."

"But you think that Malfoy would still be loyal to him after that?"

"I believe that Voldemort has tricked him into believing it was necessary."

Harry was silent, trying to see the logic in Professor McGonagall's reasoning. He was finding it difficult. "Then what are we going to do about Bill, Professor?"

She didn't answer. It took Harry a moment to realize the significance in her silence. Then it dawned on him.

"You wouldn't," he said hoarsely.

"There is nothing we can do, Harry. Either we send a contingent from the Order to Pendragon Castle and have the whole lot kidnapped or killed, or we try to bluff our way into getting him back, which will probably result in his death and the death of any of the negotiators."

"You can't just leave him there," Harry said angrily.

She looked utterly helpless. "We have to."

Rage was boiling up inside of him. "How are you going to tell that to the Weasleys?" he demanded, standing up. "How are you going to tell them that you're going to let their son die without a fight?"

"Harry," she said exasperatedly, "we can't save him. Most of the Order agrees that Malfoy is here to lead us into a trap. We can't sacrifice five or six lives to save Bill's."

"You can't just let him die," Harry spat. Fury raced through his body. "Good day, Professor."

He wrenched the door open and stalked out of the room.

As soon as he was at the bottom of the spiral staircase, he broke into a run. Students looked strangely at him as he passed, but he paid them no heed. He skidded to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Whiddlebome," he gasped, clutching a stitch in his side.

"You're in a hurry, I take it," said the Fat Lady serenely.

"Yes," he said pointedly.

"I suppose I had better let you in, then," she murmured without moving.

"That would be a good idea," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, well, then." She swung forward to admit him to the Gryffindor common room.

Ron and Hermione were sitting in a corner, their homework spread out over a whole table. Hermione was studiously bent over a piece of parchment, but Ron simply sat there, looking miserable.

"Ron, Hermione," he said as he neared them. They looked up. "I need to talk to you, in private," he said urgently.

"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I don't want to talk about it here. Come to my office with me."

Five minutes later found him explaining to Ron and Hermione the Order's decision. Hermione looked dumbstruck. "Oh, Ron," she said in a mortified whisper.

Ron glared straight ahead at nothing in particular. "He's not going to die," he whispered. "He's not. We're going to go rescue him."

"Yes, we are," Harry agreed.

"Harry!" Hermione said, aghast. "You told Lupin you'd stay at Hogwarts!"

"Bill's life is more important to me than my promise to Lupin."

"Well-said," Ron concurred. "We're leaving tonight."

"After everyone's in bed," Harry said.

"We can sneak past the aurors. Or maybe Tonks'll let us out."

"Hermione can cover for us."

"What?" Hermione interjected. "Much as I don't think it's a good idea, you're not leaving me here. I'm coming too."

She was so reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley that Ron looked completely cowed. Neither of them even thought to argue. Not that they would have; they were both glad to have her coming along.

"I'm going to see if Malfoy knows just where he's being held," Harry said, stepping out into the corridor. "You can go get ready."

It took only three minutes to make his way down to the dungeons. He unlocked the cell with his wand and stepped inside.

"Malfoy," he said, startling the figure in the corner, "I need you to draw me a map of the castle and mark what room Bill is being kept in."

Malfoy turned slowly to him. "Are you going to try to get in?"

Harry hesitated. "Don't tell McGonagall, but… yes."

"You can't?"

"What do you mean, I can't?" Harry demanded.

"There're barriers all over the place. Someone in your group would have to have one of these."

He wrenched up his left sleeve to reveal a mark that had been branded into his skin, the image of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. The Dark Mark.

Harry groaned. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Sorry."

Harry began pacing. He kneaded the scar on his forehead with his knuckles, bit his fingernails, and tore at his hair, but nothing provided an answer.

Malfoy muttered something. Harry turned to him distractedly. "What did you say?"

His pale-blue eyes glittered strangely. "Take me with you. I can show you where he's being held, and I can get you through the barriers."

He hesitated, searching Malfoy's face. But it wasn't a long contemplation. He could choose to refuse or to save Bill's life.

"Alright. I'm going to be so dead for letting you out. We're leaving at midnight. We'll come get you."

"I look forward to it."