Chapter 8
.o.o.o.o.o.
Draco's memory began in a dark corridor. Only the flickering candles in their holders upon the wall offered any light. It was an unfamiliar house, but it was not all that dissimilar in style to Grimmauld Place, Harry thought. Judging by the portraits upon the wall, and the snobbish opulence of his surroundings, Harry could put together that he was inside the home of a wealthy pure-blood witch or wizard.
"This mansion belongs to the Lestranges," Present Draco confirmed for him, standing at Harry's side in the dark memory, "This took place a few weeks after Dumbledoor's death."
Noises started from down the hall. There were people coming toward them. A taller man dragging a shorter one. Once they had both fallen under the candlelight, Harry could see it was Severus Snape and a slightly younger-looking Draco Malfoy.
"I can't do it!" Memory Draco whimpered, his candlelit face full of fear and reluctance, "He'll kill me, Severus. He'll kill me." Snape, who must have been putting up with this for some time already, hauled Malfoy forward and slammed his back against the wall.
"Enough!" Snape hissed, yanking Draco by the neck of his robes and slamming him again, "If you do not pull yourself together, Draco, then that is precisely what will occur."
"I failed my mission. If he doesn't kill me, then he'll Crucio me!" Draco cried.
"What happened that night at Hogwarts went almost exactly to plan. If the Dark Lord was displeased with you, I assure you, you'd already be dead."
"I can't face him!"
"You have no choice," Snape spat. Draco made a noise of pure despair, something so pathetic that even Snape's cold mask faltered.
"Draco. Listen to me. You will go in there. You will hold your head high. You will not speak unless he asks you a question. You will NOT, under any circumstances, attempt to lie to the Dark Lord. You will follow any orders he gives you and you will accept any task. I do not believe he wishes to harm you, but if I sense that he intends to do so, I will find a way to intercede. Do you understand?"
After a few, whimpering breaths, Memory Draco gave a shaky nod. Snape released him and then herded him up to the closed door at the end of the hall. Harry and Present Draco followed. The room they entered was long and had a tall ceiling. The furniture had been pushed out against the walls, leaving the middle open. In the center of the room there was a large and extremely complex circular design etched into the floor. It had multiple layers, circles within circles, and many strange symbols that Harry could make no sense of.
Several, robed figures were gathered at the far end of the room. A leather armchair held the form of Lord Voldemort, the only one whose identity was easy to discern at a distance. The hushed conversation ended abruptly once Snape and Malfoy approached. Snape eventually stopped, allowing Malfoy to move forward alone. Harry could see that Draco was trembling, even though he'd put a good effort into faking calm collectedness. He appeared to be unable to look directly into the snake-like face of Voldemort. Instead, his eyes darted to the side, finding Lucius Malfoy, who was looking quite worse for wear, Harry noted. He must have only recently gotten out of Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange stood on Voldemort's other side, lips pressed in a pout. There was a third Death Eater in the room that seemed somewhat familiar, but Harry could not recall a name.
"Draco," that high, clear voice began, dragging the name out into something long and rather indulgent-sounding, as though Draco were some beloved child that had finally come home. Apparently, Snape had guessed right when it came to Voldemort's mood. "So good of you to join us today. I am most pleased with you. Most pleased. Your plan involving the vanishing cabinets was most ingenious, and, I might add, a great success. Dumbledore is dead. Hogwarts... is mine."
Memory Draco finally gathered enough strength to look at his master. In his eyes, Harry could see the mixture of relief and shock to have had such words spoken to him. It was clear that it was the last thing he had expected. Unfortunately, Voldemort noticed this hesitance as well.
"You feel that you do not deserve my praise?" Voldemort pressed when Draco remained silent. This prompted Draco to hurriedly avert his eyes and hunch in on himself.
"...I am honored…" he hurriedly managed to choke out.
"It is true that I wished for Dumbledore to die by your hand originally. You see, I did not think you were capable. I doubted your resolve," Voldemort told the young man shaking in his shadow, his voice almost taunting, "But no longer. I've come to see that the situation has worked to my benefit."
Lucius suddenly made a strained noise.
"He is too young for something like this, m-my lord," the elder Malfoy pleaded.
"Be silent, or I shall have you removed from my presence," Voldemort snarled at him so nastily that it caused Lucius to recoil as if he'd been slapped. Voldemort turned back to the younger Malfoy, and when he spoke, he had switched once again to that same coaxing tone that was making Harry's skin crawl.
"Do you wish to serve me, Draco? Are you eager to regain the honor that your father has cost your family?"
Harry could see the weariness in Memory Draco's expression. No doubt he was wondering how much more he would be expected to do- how much more he would be expected to give. He was fresh off his Hogwarts mission, which had nearly cost him his sanity and had aged him beyond his sixteen years.
Voldemort gestured for the unknown Death Eater behind him to come forward.
"This is Augustus Rookwood," Voldemort explained to Draco, "He has been an indispensable servant of mine ever since I first came to power. His unique talents and his work within the Ministry's Department of Mysteries have been instrumental in this war and have kept him firmly in my favor. The war is drawing to a close, and though there is no doubt that I shall emerge victorious, every contingent should be in place," Nagini curled around the back of the armchair and slithered into Voldemort's lap. A pale long-fingered hand caressed her lovingly. "Rookwood and I have need of you, Draco, or rather someone with your attributes."
"My lord!" Bellatrix interjected, coming around to Draco's side of the chair, "Allow me to perform this service for you! I am your most loyal, your most-"
"We have discussed this, Bellatrix," Voldemort silenced her harshly, "The spellwork requires a virgin soul, someone who has never taken another's life. As it happens, I have only one Death Eater who qualifies." Those cold eyes turned back to Draco thoughtfully.
"My lord, I don't believe Yaxley has-" Lucius began, but the Dark Lord cut across him as well.
"Unfortunately, muggle lives do count, Lucius."
The elder Malfoy looked as though he still wished to argue, but it seemed he could come up with no other suggestions or excuses. Frantically, his eyes went to Snape, as if hoping his fellow Death Eater would come to his aid, but Snape seemed to have no interest aside from studying the strange, circular pattern upon the floor. It seemed even he hadn't the faintest idea of what it was for.
This left Harry a bit dismayed. He'd already been planning to ask his portrait in McGonagall's office about it.
"Let us begin, Rookwood. Please, Draco, step into the circle. The rest of you... get out of my sight."
Harry could feel Memory Draco's anxiety spike as his father, Snape and Bellatrix began to move towards the door, unable to do or say anything else. The memory became a bit fuzzy just then, with everything blurring and the noises becoming distorted.
"I panicked," Present Draco explained to Harry in a rather detached voice as their surroundings suddenly became a storm of emotions and sensations. It took a moment for things to clear again, and when they did, Memory Draco was kneeling in the center of the circle with Rookwood and Voldemort standing on either side of him. Rookwood took hold of Draco's right arm and slashed his wrist with a knife. Surprised, Draco let out a yelp and yanked his arm away. He held it tightly but the cut was so deep that the blood was pulsing out. It welled between his fingers and began to drip down onto the floor. Slowly, the thick, red liquid made its way into the etched lines of the circle, triggering some kind of magic that made the entire thing light up.
The loss of blood seemed to be making Memory Draco dizzy and Harry noticed that the edges of his surroundings began to darken despite the blinding light of the runes upon the floor.
"Impressive, Draco. You show more fortitude than your father ever has," came Voldemort's voice, carelessly oblivious to the distress his youngest Death Eater was in. The darkness in the corners of the room crept in closer, forming a tunnel until only Voldemort was visible. "You are being entrusted with the most crucial of tasks. My last line of defense. Should all else fail, you will provide me... a way back."
The blackness closed in all the way, ending the memory and forcing Draco and Harry out of the pensieve.
"Why did you never tell anyone about this?" Harry said to Malfoy after taking a moment to fully process what he had just seen.
"Because Severus advised me not to," came Malfoy's ready answer. He was looking down at the pensieve rather than at Harry. His arms were wrapped around himself defensively. "I think it took him some time to prise information out of Rookwood, Bellatrix, and my father. It wasn't until I was at Hogwarts for seventh year that he called me into the headmaster's office and explained that none of what happened that night would matter in the end, and that I should go about my life as normal. Looking back, I realize that he must have known that the Dark Lord would soon be dead and that his Horcruxes were being destroyed. Had this actually happened, there would have been no way to activate the curse upon me."
"Are you saying that all of this is because of me?" Harry asked, "That I was able to somehow activate Voldemort's magic?"
"Yes," Malfoy confirmed, "On the night of the masquerade."
"Show me," Harry demanded. If he was going to be made a part of this, then he needed all the pieces. He felt an old feeling, and old obsessiveness, creeping up on him. He felt like he was back to what he knew. He suddenly had a mission, a goal, a puzzle… a purpose. After a short, stubborn pause, Malfoy acquiesced to the demand. He put his wand to his head and pulled out a new memory, letting it waft down into the pensieve.
Harry went in alone this time, finding himself in the pumpkin patch. Harry watched as his mirror self- drunk, possessed, crazed, perhaps all three- chased after a fleeing Malfoy and bound him with magic. There were shouts for him to stop. The man on the ground squirmed like a mouse caught in a trap.
"Don't do this, Potter!"
Apparently, Harry had heard none of it.
Then the circle appeared on the ground- the same as the one that had been in the last memory. Harry forced himself to watch what came next, absolutely horrified that he remembered nothing. Fortunately, the worst appeared to be over. Memory Harry merely held Draco down for a time, awash in the glow of the magic surrounding them and when it was over, they both collapsed into the grass.
Harry emerged from the pensieve holding his head.
"Malfoy…" Harry said. A small part of him was recoiling in shame. A larger part was nearly exploding in anger. How could such a thing have been kept from him? Even if Draco wouldn't have ever mentioned it, why hadn't Snape? Had Dumbledoor known as well?
None of it was supposed to matter, Harry reminded himself, because I was supposed to die.
"So you understand now, don't you?" Malfoy said into the pervading silence, "Just how serious this is."
"What happens next?"
"I managed to visit Rookwood in Azkaban but I was only able to get a few things out of him. Apparently, this magic is part of an evocation ritual containing three phases. The first memory I showed you initiated it. The night of Halloween began the second phase. For the third phase, Rookwood mentioned a 'harvesting' of a 'homunculus' and he told me that if it was not done right then I would die," Malfoy paused to inhale a shuddering breath, running a hand through his perfectly layered, blonde hair. "If my death is what needs to happen for this to end then… well, I suppose it would be for a noble cause, but I'm only human, Potter. I don't want to die."
"And what if I were to die? Would that fix it?" Harry said. He realized suddenly that this was why Malfoy had come to him on that rainy night- why he had been so desperate to destroy the Horcrux…at least until he discovered that the Horcrux was Harry, himself.
"I don't know," Malfoy responded, pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut as though he was in the midst of a terrible headache. "So before you go off and martyr yourself, consider what would happen if there was to be no effect. I'd be dead shortly after you and then who would be left to stop the return of the Dark Lord, if that should indeed still commence?"
"We need more information," Harry concluded, "We need to know how this spell- this curse- whatever, works."
"Then, I take it I can count on your assistance?"
"I don't see what choice you've left me, Malfoy."
Malfoy had no retort for this, but Harry did not miss how he closed his eyes in silent relief.
"The Department of Mysteries," Draco said after a long moment, "Can you get me inside, Potter?"
"What's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, wondering what this had to do with what he'd just seen.
"Answers, I hope. I think Rookwood may have left me a way to access his research."
"You want me to help you break in?"
"You've done it before."
"I was let in, by your miserable toady of a father."
"Details," Draco scowled dismissively. He held his wand over the pensieve, calling up the memories swirling inside. Once they hovered before him, he vanished them, ensuring that no one else would see what he had just shown Harry.
Harry thought about the stupidly illegal things Malfoy was asking him to do. But then he also thought about what was at stake.
"I can get you in, but I'll need you to brew some Polyjuice."
.o.o.o.o.o.