Sorry for not uploading in about a month, I feel really guilty...you know the drill! :) I was feeling pretty unmotivated and all, but I don't want to make excuses, so I won't. I should probably just shut up, you won't have to listen to me complain, and I don't have to feel like a complete arse. Yeah, that would be good. So anyway, enjoy the latest installment, sorry if it's crappy, I finished it at about 3 a.m. when I was in a 'total-business' mode and was sick of procrastinating and not uploading anything.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Harry Potter Series. If I did, I would be in Miami outside my mansion drinking tequila shots right now. Lots of them.
Enjoy!
Draco's POV
I stumbled out of the fireplace in the manor, covered in soot and shaking horribly. I didn't understand why I was feeling so wretched, it was just a firewhiskey for merlin's sake! I couldn't possible be feeling the effects of that, I've drunk much worse, but there was no need to revisit all the horrible memories of sneaking out of Hogwarts and out into muggle London to get drunk and pick up chicks. No reason at all.
I walked down the hall to the kitchen, and grabbed a cup of tea that one of the house-elves had set out for me when I came home from work. I took a sip and nearly vomited it back up. Too weak, I needed something stronger than tea.
I opened up a pantry door in search for a drink. Muggle vodka, perfect. I poured myself a shot and threw it back, swallowing hard. After about 6 more shots, my vision was starting to blur.
Maybe I'll get drunk and overdose I thought. I hugged the nearly empty bottle of vodka to my chest, and tried my best to walk in a straight line to the sitting room. I stopped and grabbed a nearby shelf for support, running my hand through my hair.
Wow I feel like shit. I tried to close my eyes and breath deeply, but every time I my eyes shut I saw Hermione's broken form stretched out on the ground in front of me, blood streaming on the ground, seeping through the floor and ceiling, blood everywhere, the smell of it making my head spin.
I snapped out of my trance. Come on, Draco, what's wrong with you?
Angrily, I threw myself down on one of the extravagant emerald green couches that adorned the main living hall and threw a cushion over my face, the bottle hanging from my hand, tipping precariously over the edge of the sofa. Extremely undignified, but I wasn't feeling exactly on top of the world.
After a few moments I threw the cushion away, unsatisfied with the fact that it couldn't solve all of my problems.
"Problems, I don't have any problems, nooooooo not at allll. Just rebelling snatchers, a psychotic aunt, a clingy ex-girlfriend, and a stubborn mudblood. Yeah, my life's great. Just great." I was slurring my words, and to an outside ear I probably sounded insane and drunk. Well, that's what you are, idiot. Insane, and drunker than drunk.
Somewhere in my mind a little voice was saying You're drunk, you don't know what you're talking about. Do you have any idea what your father would say if he saw you now?
"Yeah, he'd be all disappointed in me. His fault though, I was the one who Voldemort picked, I was the one that Voldemort trained, me. Me! Not him. He was stupid and got himself killed. I was intelligent, I was manipulative! It was all his fault, I could've been great, I could've been Voldemort's successor, but no, he had to go and get himself killed, the stupid coward. And now I have to live with the shame of being the son of a coward who ran away in battle."
I felt a sudden rage burn through me, and I picked up an expensive looking vase and hurled it across the room.
It hit the wall with a satisfying crash, and fell to the floor in a thousand pieces of glittering glass shards.
At the noise, a house-elf scurried into the room.
"Master," She squeaked. "You has broken Missus' vase! Missus Greengrass must not see this, no sir. I will clean up, yes sir, and you is going to rest sir. You do not look so well, sir." She rambled on in a high-pitched voice and went to go sweep up the shards of glass.
"NO!" I bellowed, scaring both myself and the house-elf, who shrieked and jumped away. I muttered a curse and clutched my head, it throbbing as soon as I raised my voice.
She stared at me, waiting to be dismissed, and I waved her away.
"Leave it, and Greengrass can stuff it if she sees it. Although it doesn't look like she sees much today, she's got her head too far up her own arse." I growled.
The terrified elf left the room as quickly as it had come, leaving me to stare at the broken vase lying on the ground. It was an ugly birthday present Astoria had gotten me a while back when mother was still alive.
Mum had never liked Astoria, she said so frequently whenever we were alone and Lucius couldn't hear us. In fact, she never would have agreed to a marriage between us had Bellatrix not stepped in and bullied her into it.
I let out another loud groan, and pulled my coat back on. It masked the smell of vodka and firewhiskey. Perhaps some fresh air will do me good. Walk around downtown London and think everything over. I nodded to myself as I teetered out the door. That's exactly what I'll do. I walked with a slight tilt to the side down the long pathway until I reached the main road.
Closing my eyes and trying to concentrate, I apparated; but instead of landing in London like I planned, a huge pain leapt up my entire leg and I gave way to blackness, the last thing I saw being a dimmed lamp on a deserted suburb street.
Non-Specific Persons POV
30 minutes earlier at Headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix
It had been about 2 and a half hours since Harry had appeared in the middle of the main hall, clutching Hermione's bag and still screaming her name at the top of his lungs, 2 hours since Neville and Teddy had arrived, accompanied by Mrs. Weasley, and only an hour since Mr. Weasley had led a search party out to Shell Cottage to aid Bill and Fleur. For Jacob Amanar, time was passing very slowly.
Everyone was rushing around trying to attend to everything at once, three different order members were with Harry upstairs trying to get enough out of him to figure out what happened to him and Hermione, and Jacob, not being a top Order member, was being shoved aside this way and that. He was currently seated in a dusty old chair out in the corner of the kitchen, while Luna prepared a sleeping-draught for when Harry's questioning was over.
"You seem very preoccupied. It must be the wrackspurts, I thought I saw a few around here somewhere. Don't worry, the symptoms aren't serious, and the confusion goes away after a few hours." She looked at him with a queer scrutinizing sort of glance, and he squirmed uncomfortably under it.
"I feel fine, thanks. Just wish that I knew what was going on and all." He mumbled. Luna smiled and nodded.
"It's always hard on the new ones, but don't worry, you'll soon feel at home. Once you've been here long enough, it's practically your home, and we're just your extended family. That was the one thing that I liked about it when I first joined, everyone was so friendly and accepting. Much unlike Hogwarts. The kids there were not the kindest, but I knew that they couldn't do anything long-lasting. The things we love always have a way of coming back to us." She smiled dreamily at some memory, and Jacob was almost intrigued by her nostalgia.
"Was it that hard for you at Hogwarts?" He asked. She turned her attention back to him.
"As long as you don't lose yourself in what others think of you, and only care about what you think of yourself, then it was really quite enjoyable." Jacob nodded and opened his mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted as Kingsley rushed into the room, a few moments, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and announced,
"Hermione's been captured, by the Death Eaters. They've got her at the Ministry, she's most likely being tortured, if she's not already dead. We need to get in there." He stopped when a silvery shape of a weasel swept into the room.
The weasel glided on top of the table, and stood on it's hind legs, facing Kingsley. It opened it's mouth and spoke in the voice of Mr. Weasley, "Kingsley, Draco Malfoy has been found exactly two streets down. He's inebriated and seems to have badly splinched himself. He's currently unconscious, we're bringing him in."
Kingsley's eyes grew wide, and he turned his attention to Jacob. "My boy, it's your turn. Are you ready? I feel that you have been trained enough, and this is of the utmost importance. We need to get you in, help you get Hermione, and get you both back out alive. Miss Lovegood," He spoke addressing Luna now, "when will that polyjuice potion be ready?" Luna smiled.
"It's been ready for a few days, but it should be good as new. Just bring us the hairs, and that's that."
At that moment, the door opened, and you could hear Mr. Weasley mumbling and panting, and the sound of a body being dragged over the threshold. Jacob and Kingsley rushed to his aid, where Jacob got his first impression of the man he was to be impersonating.
He did not look nearly as bad or mean as Jacob thought he would, although there was a vain sort of attitude that graced his features. It could be the fact that blood was rushing from a badly tied tourniquet, or the fact that he was drunk and unconscious, or that he looked almost a bit sad and frustrated that made Jacob feel the smallest bit of pity for him, but he caught himself in time.
"Is he sleeping?" Jacob asked. Mr. Weasley nodded.
"Sleeping spell. On top of that, he's had plenty to drink and passed out after he splinched. He should have known not to apparate while drunk, but I guess when you're drunk you don't think of stuff like that." Mr. Weasley let him slump against the wall, and Luna nimbly stepped forward and plucked two hairs off of his head.
"There, that's perfect. It should be ready for you in a few minutes, Mr. Amanar."
Jacob paled. "What? I don't know what I'm doing, I'm not ready, The brightest witch of our age has just been captured and I have to go save her and myself, I don't know what I'm doing, I have to impersonate a snobby Death Eater LEADER for merlin's sake, and you want to send me in the middle of Death Eater-ville where there's tons of blood-thirsty lunatics who would just love to rip out my heart and feed on it, and If I mess up and they go apeshit then there's no way of me or Hermione getting out alive, which is most likely going to happen!"
Kingsley looked almost bored at Jacob's outburst, and when he finished, out of breath, asked harshly, "Are you quite done Mr. Amanar? We brought you here because you were dedicated and not afraid to fight for the cause. It is perfectly acceptable to be nervous, but you cannot let people down. You have a job to do, this is what you've prepared for the past 3 months. You cannot let us down."
Kingsley's urgent words struck Jacob, and he suddenly felt ashamed of himself. Hermione was alone somewhere in enemy territory, being tortured, and she was braver then he ever would be, he who was scared to even try to save her. He bit his lip, and shakily asked,
"Just how do I get into this Ministry place?"
Kingsley smiled. "We'll take you there. The rest is up to you. Take this," He handed him a small pad and a quill. "If you need to get in touch, write down what you need to say on here. I have one that I will use if I need to get in touch with you. Don't send a patronus, they will have charms against it, and if you need to see us, we can find a time and place to exchange information. Hermione will be in the dungeons, that's in the lowest level of the Ministry." Luna passed him a vial full of green liquid, and handed him two white-blond hairs.
"Whenever you're ready." She said. Jacob gulped, and put the hairs in the vial. It frothed and bubbled, until it turned a clear emerald-green color, not unlike the robes that Jacob had seen Malfoy wearing in the pictures of him from Hogwarts. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gulped the potion down. It had an acrid taste, and Jacob wanted to spit it out immediately, but he swallowed it down, wincing.
His hair changed from brown to blonde, he grew until his pants were 3 inches too short, and his chin lengthened and cheekbones became more prominent. He looked at himself in the mirror, grey eyes staring back instead of the usual blue. He ran his hand through his fringe of soft hair and stared at it wonderingly. His hands were manicured neatly and looked as if they were made of sculptured marble.
Kingsley broke him from his trance when he said "You and him need to change clothes. And then you need to get on your way. Take this," he handed him the rest of the potion, a large vialfull and a few hairs, "in case you need extra, and we'll leave as soon as possible. I can't say how long Malfoy will be missed, but it surely won't be long."
Jacob quickly stripped down to his boxers and put Malfoy's clothes on as they were handed to him. Freshly ironed shirt, tailored pants, and a coat that seemed it was made for him. As Kingsley handed him a golden watch, Jacob gasped.
"Oh just put it on." Kingsley snapped. Jacob nodded wordlessly and snapped it to his wrist, admiring the craftsmanship.
Fully dressed in Malfoy's clothes, Jacob stood by the doorway, awaiting Kingsley's last orders, while Kingsley was talking with Mr. Weasley about where to put Malfoy.
"Upstairs, Regulus' room. No one's in there, and there's no windows or any way out. Station two people in the room with him so when he wakes he'll have some questions to answer for us. Give his wand to one of the others who doesn't have one, I think Miss Patil is at a loss for one, she'll be happy to take it off your hands." Arthur nodded and levitated the still-unconscious body of Malfoy up the stairs and out of Jacob's sight.
Turning back to Jacob, Kingsley said nothing, but placed his hand on his shoulder.
"We're apparating to the entrance. Hold on." Jacob shut his eyes, and a moment later when his feet were on solid ground again, opened them. They were outside a men's loo. Stepping inside, Jacob saw it was deserted. Kingsley pointed to the nearest toilet.
"Just pull the lever, and you'll come through a floo fireplace. Lift is on the left." Jacob stepped into the toilet bowl, though surprisingly his clothes did not get wet. he was about to leave when Kingsley grasped the sleeve of his arm firmly. Jacob turned back towards him and met his stern gaze.
"Just remember. You're a Malfoy. You're the Malfoy. Sanctimonious, upper-class. Act it. And don't forget your goal." Jacob swallowed, anxious to get it over with.
Kingsley looked into his eyes and nodded, releasing his grip. "Well then, on with it. See you soon, Mr. Amanar." He apparated away, leaving Jacob by himself in the deserted loo. He reached up and curled his hand around the lever.
3...2...1...
Sorry, everything's moving a bit quickly. Okay, really quickly. I just want to get this done so I can sleep. Can't blame me, human's are inately selfish. Okay, so you can blame me a little bit.
Please review if you liked it, or didn't, it helps me A LOT and keeps me motivated better than coffee does (sorry Starbucks, I still love you). Yay reviews! And coffee!
Free coffee (or hot chocolate if you'd rather have that) to everyone who reviews/favorites. I love you all!