Chapter 28

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Harry gave the Doctor a warning glace and stepped back to send a Patronus to Celeste, and Rodolphus spoke. "You dare speak to us, you who stole our Lord's true son?"

Wilf snorted. "True son? That's not how family works. He's no more your late lord's 'true son' than that stone you're standing on."

Rodolphus laughed once, a harsh, angry sound. "And I suppose you think he is your son?"

"No." The Doctor paled again, and Rose grabbed his hand. He gripped her hand tightly, nearly grinding her bones together. Then Wilf spoke again. "I don't think so. I know so. He's my boy, and he has been from the day he came home with me."

Donna spoke up, her voice quiet and scared. "Granddad?"

"Not now, sweetheart—hggh!" Harry peered around the corner and cursed under his breath. Wilf had been bound and gagged, and Donna was staring down the group of Death Eaters by herself. Seven first-years were huddled together in the corner, tears streaking their faces. Harry gulped. Professor Bryn lay crumpled on the ground, staring, unseeing, at the ceiling. He ducked back around the corner and blocked the view from the Doctor and Rose, shaking his head warningly at them.

Koschei's voice rang out. "No, I think now's the perfect time. She doesn't know, does she? That her beloved 'Doctor' is Bellatrix Lestrange's child." His footsteps rang out on the cobblestones, and his voice lowered. "That the boy she's spent so much time defending is the Dark Lord's heir."

She took a deep breath, and they could almost hear her scorching glare. "So what if he is? 'S not his fault, is it?"

Koschei chuckled. "Such loyalty! It's a shame your family doesn't feel the same for you. After all, your beloved grandfather here has known for years—even the Doctor himself has known for more than a month, and he hadn't once told you. But, wait—his pet Gryffindor knows, doesn't she?" He hissed in a breath. "Oh, that has to hurt. He told his chavvy little tart before he told you, his own family." The Doctor's hand convulsed on Rose's, and Donna mumbled something. Koschei spoke again. "What was that?"

"I said, Rose isn't a tart. An' I'm sure they had their reasons."

"You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you? So much blind devotion. It's touching, really."

"Oh, like you're one to talk about 'blind devotion'. What're you up to here, then? Some sort of lame-brained plot to bring back your Lord and Master? No matter who you threaten, who you hurt, it won't change anythin'—he's dead, and good riddance."

Another voice broke in, this one female and harsh. "Enough of this chatter. We came to find the heir, not to banter with blood traitors."

Rodolphus snarled, "Good point. Avada—"

"No, wait!" The Doctor's eyebrows shot up. The voice that had interrupted the spell was Koschei's. "Why kill her, when she can still be so useful?"

Boots shifted on the cobblestones. "Speak fast, Rosier."

"Johnny Boy may be in Slytherin, but he's got a revoltingly noble streak a mile wide. If you want him, these two are all you need." He clucked his tongue. "It's a shame the little Mudblood isn't here, too—we could've really had some fun with her."

The Doctor's jaw tightened, and Harry gave him a sharp look and pulled them away from the door, raising a sound ward. "Right—you need to get out of here. Help should be on its way, and we know Lestrange's strategy now—but until some back-up arrives, we can't do anything to help them."

He glared at him. "They're my family."

"And I doubt that means they'd want you to rush in there. Doctor, Rodolphus Lestrange is one of the most dangerous Death Eaters alive, and he was seriously unhinged even before his wife and leader were killed. Do you really think you can take him on?"

The Doctor's shoulders tensed. "I can try."

Rose gave Harry a glance and turned to face the Doctor, poking him in the chest. "Oi. I thought I was supposed to be the impetuous Gryffindor here?"

He stared down at her. "Rose. It's Donna and Dad. I can't just walk away."

"Then don't. Come up with some way to outthink 'em, but don't just run in there."

A sound came from down the hall, and they all turned. A slow grin grew on Harry's face. "Right. Let me get my kit, and I'll be right back." He threw the Doctor a warning glare. "Don't move."

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Rodolphus' voice rang throughout the castle, reverberating through the empty hallways and echoing into the common rooms where students huddled together, terrified. "John Mott, this is your one warning. Come to us, or your family will suffer." The whimper of a first year followed, and he continued with malicious glee, "For every ten minutes that you don't show, one of the little firsties dies." His voice dropped into a lower register, and the skin on the back of Rose's neck prickled. "Or worse, they'll live."

The Doctor was staring into middle distance, his eyes haunted and guilty. Rose laid a hand on his arm, and he jumped and turned to look at her. "Hey. We'll get this figured out. Whatever they're threatening, they won't get the chance, all right?"

He closed his eyes. "You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do. 'Cause you're not doin' this alone, Doctor. You've got plenty of people ready and willing to help you."

His eyes opened slowly, and she could see the dread written plainly across his face. "What if that's not enough?"

"I guess we don't know. Best we can do is try, right?"

Something solidified in his face as she spoke, and he nodded. The gawky teenage boy she knew and loved so well had dissapeared. This was the wizard who had discovered Snape's trail after so many failed, who had broken open his own identity with one carefully cast spell. He turned dark eyes to her and grabbed her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "We'll do it together, yeah?"

Rose beamed up at him, her heart in her eyes. "Together."

Harry poked his head out of the office and gestured at them. "Come on. They're ready."

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Donna sat hunched next to her grandfather, curling herself protectively around him. He was too old for this—he'd hit the ground hard when Rodolphus had bound him, and she was worried about the crunching noise she'd heard. Old Mrs. Tibbins down the block had broken her hip last winter, and she was still using a walker. Granted, she was a Muggle and had no access to St. Mungo's, but that didn't make Donna feel any better. It didn't change the fact that Wilf had gone white with pain, or that she could feel his pulse beating erratically against her fingertips as she held his wrist. The first-years were huddled close around her, their eyes wide and terrified. Donna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What good could she possibly do them? Sitting ducks, they were. An ill-timed mental image made her snort. They really did look like goslings right now, poor things.

"I'm glad you find our little arrangement so amusing, Donna, dearest." She raised her eyes and glared at Koschei, who was staring at her with a supercilious smirk on his face.

She groaned. "Oh, don't tell me you've got an alliteration thing, too. Drives me mental whenever the Doctor goes on one of his kicks—'Just think of it, Donna! A platoon of baboons on the moon!'" Koschei stared at her, one eyebrow raised, and she rolled her eyes. "It's a long story."

He sniffed. "Apparently his idiocy has infected his family. Or maybe he got it from you—wouldn't surprise me in the least, really. There's only so much that can be expected from a Gryffindor."

Donna gave him a look that was absolutely dripping with disdain. "Okay, really? That's your big insult? 'Oh, look, you were sorted in a different house than me?' 'S a bit juvenile, isn't it?"

"It seemed more gentlemanly than commenting on your complete lack of wit or talent."

Donna paled, and a voice came from the doorway. "Leave her alone." She closed her eyes in frustrated defeat, and Koschei spun with a wide grin on his face.

"Why, Doctor, how good to see you."

He sniffed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Can't say the same to you, I'm afraid." His voice lowered. "Let them go."

Koschei tutted, shaking his head gently. "Now, why would I do that? We were just getting to know each other."

"Enough." Rodolphus had been pacing, and he straightened as the Doctor walked warily in the door. "No more of this foolishness. Accio wand."

"No!" The Doctor's wand flew out of his pocket, and he watched helplessly as the Death Eater snapped it in two. He groaned. "Oh, come on, now. That wasn't a very good idea. After all, you want ol' Moldy Voldy to use this body, don't you? I doubt he'll be all that happy to come back without a wand to use."

Rabastan Lestrange growled and raised his wand threateningly. "Don't you dare defile the Dark Lord's name!"

"What? Not a fan of 'Moldy Voldy'? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, really—you lot aren't really renowned for your sense of humour, after all." Rabastan began to move his wand, and the Doctor rocked back on his heels. "I might think twice about that, if I were you. Wouldn't want any lingering side effects for his brand new vessel, would you?"

Rodolphus leaned forward. "So you accept your fate?"

"See, that's the thing. Never been that much of a believer in fate, me. Oh, there are some things I believe in—" he paused, and a slight smile crossed his face for a moment before he shook his head and continued, "but that there's some all-powerful force out there, shaping our lives? Not for me. And as they say," he shrugged and adopted a Scottish accent, "the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley." He paused, and spoke again in his regular Estuary accent. "Like, for instance, how you've managed to lose all your hostages."

The Death Eaters spun to look at the corner and stared. Where just minutes ago seven first-years had sat with Donna and Wilf, now a troupe of Hogwarts house-elves sat in too-large Hogwarts robes. Kreacher sat up, Wilf's sweater dwarfing his frame. "Remember what Master Potter said! Away!" With an ear-splitting crack, they vanished—but the disturbance in the air blew like a sudden gale through the room, and the air by the wall rippled and revealed a pair of legs clad in tight denim. The Doctor felt his heart drop into his stomach. He knew those legs—of course he did, Merlin knew he'd spent enough time daydreaming about them.

Koschei flicked his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

There was a shriek and a thud, and the air rippled around the legs. Koschei strolled over to the person and dragged the Invisibility Cloak away, grinning down at the girl lying frozen on the floor. "Hello, Rosie."

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