October 2008
Wiltshire, England
Malfoy Manor
Wednesday Evening
Lyra went with Harry and Mrs. Malfoy to the north wing. It took 5 straight minutes of walking to get from the sitting room where they were to the main passage comprising the North end of the Manor. The ballroom was the first large room that they came to. Narcissa referred to it as the "white ballroom," the walls were a pearly, incandescent white decorated again with charmed figures in blue and silver that appeared to be the moving shapes of constellations. Perseus, Aries, Casseopia. The vaulted ceiling was a cobalt blue and decorated with static silver starbursts that cast a cool white light down on to the intricate mosaic of the dark wooden floor. The overall effect was stunning and had a vague Grecian temple feel. It seemed a serious set of decorations for a ballroom in a children's wing, but it was certainly beautiful.
As Harry had described, there was only one entrance into the room from the north main corridor. There were only a few small windows and those were up high, unlikely to be hit with a hex to rain glass on them. She walked to the back of the empty room where Narcissa muttered an incantation to open the wall revealing a small room behind. It was empty except for a dusty old armchair and brass chandelier.
"This room can only be opened from the outside. My husband's ancestors used it to teach lessons to naughty children who wouldn't mind their dance instructors," Narcissa said with placid acceptance.
"Holy crap. Zabini was right. Secret torture dungeon," Lyra muttered to herself.
"What?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.
"Oh, nothing," she replied. Deciding to change the subject, Lyra turned back to Harry. "Hey, if I'm leading him here, how do I open that door without him noticing and hexing me to oblivion?"
"I was planning on being outside the room to open it when the time came," he replied.
"Disillusionment charm? I don't know if that would fool Draco. Even compelled Draco," Lyra returned.
"Invisibility cloak. I got the jump on him with it when we were kids. He thought I was a ghost. It was brilliant," he answered.
"That, I would love to see," she mused.
They continued investigating the rest of the wing, Lyra trying her best to memorize the order of rooms; First left is ballroom, then 3 right tutoring rooms, the blue sitting room on the right, small library on the left, right turn to the residential wing. 4 bedrooms with adjoining sitting rooms and baths. Draco's is the second on the right...honestly this place is ridiculous...thank goodness his bedroom is on the main level.
Narcissa ushered her into his bedroom without commenting, but Lyra knew it was his. She could smell it. He always smelled like sandalwood. His clothes, his hair, his skin. Always the same warm fragrance. It made her heart race. She hadn't been close enough to him last night to smell it, but in this room it hung from the curtains and rose up from the floorboards.
The room itself was large and the decoration of it set it apart from the rest of the house. It was normal, almost spartan in comparison. More like the penthouse at the Savoy. The walls were a pale gray and the floors a light, creamy wood. There was a modest brick fireplace across from his large bed. The bed was covered with a thick comforter of green and gray stripes and the walls were lined with bookcases overflowing with books and little trinkets. Of the two doors to the right of the bed, one led to a huge walk in closet, predictably full of black and green and the other to a gray sitting room with wooden furniture and yet more books. The door to the left led to the bathroom that was all white marble. It contained a huge tub, set back to be surrounded by windows that faced the woods, according to Narcissa. Next to the tub was a set of french doors that led out to a forest path that circled the grounds.
The whole thing was simple quality, like Draco, once you broke him down. It made Lyra unspeakably sad. She circled back to the main room and started looking at the bookshelves. She saw pictures of his family, pictures of him playing Quidditch, several of him with friends. She got to see Blaise Zabini as a 14 year old with buck-teeth. Adorable, she thought. She stopped pursuing when her eyes fell on a picture of her. She was 12, waiving like a doofus and standing with her father Alistair in front of the American Museum of Wandlore. She'd sent him that picture in a letter shortly after with a little button that said, 'Someone at the AMW thinks I'm wand-erful!' She motioned to Harry and pointed it out.
"Huh. Thank goodness you grew your hair out. Yikes," he said.
She punched him in the arm. Twice, for good measure.
Narcissa showed her the little tuxedo'd Pukwudgie she'd bought Draco for one Christmas. It was truly terrible, she agreed with Narcissa. Worse than she remembered. He had not aged well.
Lyra found her sadness turning to rage. Draco was a person, not a tool to be used by his father. He was himself. Secretive, sarcastic and shy but also thoughtful, intelligent and loyal. He deserved better. He deserved freedom. As much as she cared for him as he was, who knows who he could've become if he hadn't been shackled by the expectations of a cruel father.
"Lyra," Harry snapped her back to reality. "It's nearly eight o'clock. He could be back soon. We should get the others in position and get ready. Lyra nodded and touched the tiny plastic tab behind her left ear that activated her little communications piece.
"Hey, everybody, it's Black. Gear up and meet us in the ballroom to get in position."
She got several mutters from everybody but Gold who seemed incapable of activating the thing, which he claimed didn't matter because "he was a better doer than a talker." Sure...
Some minutes later the entire team, dressed for battle, met in the ballroom. Harry was giving instructions. "Look, we don't know how long you'll be in there, so I hope you all used the loo. Whisper communication only when we have confirmation that he's back. One lumos in the room only, in case he wanders this way beforehand. Any questions?"
There were none. Harry murmured the spell to open the secret door in the wall "Good luck everyone, see you for the fight."
Lyra looked over at Narcissa Malfoy who averted her gaze, focusing on the charmed caricature of Taurus galloping across the wall. Lyra received several quick hits on the arm and well wishes of "see you for the fight," which she returned politely, and in Zabini's case, sarcastically. She was battling a rising lump in her throat the whole time. She had relied on every person in front of her at least once in the last week and she was reluctant to let them go. Every well wish put her closer to her task, closer to him.
Before the door was resealed, Zabini called out to her. He approached her and pulled her off to the side for some privacy. "Remember when you are trying to get him here that this is a man who loves you. Not just some raving lunatic. This is Draco and he loves you. You have power to control the situation as well, you understand?" He looked down at her intensely.
"Yeah," she said nodding her head nervously.
He hugged her quickly and made his way back to the rest of the team.
She was quiet as she, Harry and Narcissa retreated to the sitting room in the west wing. Lyra turned on the receiver for the bugs and set the dial to the bug Simpkins had told her was in his bedroom. She opened the speaker so the sound would pour into the room that any of them could hear. She then excused herself to the bathroom to change. She pulled on her black tactical pants, with a long-sleeved black shirt, and wandered out to spell on her anti-curse vest. She looked over to the ornate clock as she closed the vest around her back. 8:45. He could be here. He's probably close, she thought.
She walked over to flip through the channels on the receiver, but heard nothing new. The whole north wing was quiet and the kitchens were full of the routine noise of busy house-elves. She switched back to the channel monitoring his room and took a seat on the richly upholstered chair closest to the receiver. Harry sat on one end of the couch, staring in to the fire and Mrs. Malfoy sat on the other, pretending to read. Together, they waited.
At 9:30 Lyra felt her stomach growl. Her heart ached for her friends in the room. She called out to them on the comms and was happy to discover that Gold had jerky and was in a sharing mood.
Narcissa had offered to have the elves bring something up and Lyra politely refused until 10:00 when she could wait no longer.
"That's fine, dear. What would you like?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.
"Maybe just a piece of fruit...and brandy if you have it," Lyra said.
Narcissa used a spelled voice dish to contact the elves in the kitchen and ordered up some tea with fruit and nuts for them, plus the brandy for Lyra.
Ten minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Mrs. Malfoy, as the lady of the manor, stepped out in to the hallway to retrieve the tray, politely pulling the door shut behind her to discuss some house matters with her elf.
She returned and Lyra was fixated on the receiver while Harry was discussing part of the plan with Rossman over the comms. She set a pear and the brandy down on the desk for Lyra and left the rest of the bowl and tea service on the coffee table in front of Harry. Lyra ripped in to the pear like a hyena and downed the brandy in 3 anxious gulps. The brandy was exquisite. It made her mouth feel like Christmas.
"Lyra," Mrs. Malfoy called.
"Yes?"
"Do you still have the Quatrefoil that he sent you?"
"I do. It's in my suitcase. Here let me get it for you.'
"No, no dear. I think you should wear it."
"Why?" Lyra asked?
"Because I think, unlike my husband, Draco will like it. It might make it easier to get him where you want him," she replied.
"That's not a bad idea, actually." Lyra stood up to retrieve the glittering pendant from her suitcase and string it around her neck. It was lovely to be sure, but to her, it felt like a diamond noose. "Is it new, or is it an heirloom?" She asked.
"It's mine," Narcissa replied wistfully. "It was a gift for when Draco was born."
"I feel silly wearing something so special like this," Lyra confessed.
"Please don't. I got it for giving him life. You're trying to give him his life back. I think it's appropriate," she said gently.
Lyra said nothing. She didn't know what to say.
Narcissa smiled at her warmly before looking off towards the bathroom. "I'm going to pop off to the ladies for a moment if it's alright. It's just right here, if you need it." She pointed to an adjoining room.
In her absence, Lyra and Harry spoke softly to each other about how long it would be appropriate to leave their friends locked in a tiny punishment cave before calling them back and heading back towards the ministry to protect the kid. When Mrs. Malfoy returned, they brought her in on the conversation, since it was her punishment cave, and her house they were occupying. They were discussing the safest configuration for traveling back when all three of them heard the characteristic popping noise of apparition on the receiver which was set, as it had been most of the night, to Draco's bedroom.
Lyra swallowed hard and found herself unable to speak. She listened to the soft sounds of him moving around the room. She wondered what he was doing. Taking off his jacket? Picking up a book? She could focus on nothing else. She vaguely heard Harry speak in to the comms that echoed in her ear notifying the team he was here. Lyra turned around to look at the 2 nervous faces behind her. Harry looked anxious, but determined. Mrs. Malfoy, sitting next to Harry, looked ill, her hand clutched to her chest.
Harry stood up and reached into his work bag for a slippery silver piece of fabric that he informed her was his invisibility cloak. They were discussing the logistics of when to start moving towards the north wing and where to split up when, from the receiver they heard the sound of a shower turning on.
"Really, frog? Now?" Lyra said to the receiver. "You vain little thing."
At that moment, she heard Zabini's words in her head and had an epiphany. She was doing this all wrong. He loves you, you can use that.
"I need to change," Lyra chirped suddenly.
"Uh, like now?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Now." She dove in to her suitcase, pulling out a rich purple nightdress. She raised her wand and muttered a spell causing her vest to fall from her body. "Harry, turn around!"
He did so.
She lept out of her clothes as quickly as she could before removing the armholes of her vest with her wand and respelling the it around her body like an anti-curse tube top. She threw the dress over her head and reached down for her thin white bathrobe which she donned as well, before flinging the pendant back around her neck. She pulled her hair out the low bun she was wearing and decided against shoes.
"Ok. we're going." she announced.
Harry turned around, eyeing her as if she'd grown another head. "What are you doing?"
"This will work a lot better than tactical pants and my vest," she said.
"You are wearing the damned vest, are you mental?" he retorted.
"Yes, I am wearing the damned vest, Harry," she said knocking on her belly which made a hollow sound. "I have to get to his room before he's out of the shower. We're going now."
"Ok, ok," he replied.
Lyra started moving hastily for the door with Harry behind her when Narcissa spoke, "I'm...I hate to ask this but, could one of you stay with me a moment, I think I'm going to faint."
Both Aurors looked back at the blonde woman who was absolutely gaunt and drained of blood. "I...I'm just so worried...I can't breathe...I can't..." and she began hyperventilating.
"Harry, stay, I'll contact you when I'm close. I have to go," Lyra shot out, disappearing out the door with a sense of purpose she hadn't had 2 minutes ago.
"Lyra's moving. She's headed for his room. Keep this channel clear for her if she needs me." Lyra heard Harry's voice in her head and she moved quickly down the corridor to the north wing.
When she reached the main hall of the wing, she called out to Harry. "Harry, is the water still running?"
"Yes. Do what you have to do."
Lyra tore down the dark passageway, her bare feet silent against the marble. She turned right to access the residential spaces and approached Draco's slightly open door. She pushed it open slowly, ensuring no noise and peered inside. The main room was dark except for the sensual glow of the fire. She could see a faint light being cast from under the closed bathroom door.
"I'll be on my way soon," she whispered in to her comm
"I'll be there, Black," he murmured back.
She entered the room quickly and softly closed the door. She walked over to his large bed, swallowed the knot of fear in her stomach and laid down. She barely had time for her breathing to slow and the thin sheen of sweat to evaporate off her forehead when the sound of the shower suddenly ceased.
Holy shit, here goes, she thought to herself. Showtime.
Author's Note - Thanks for hanging in there. Dynamite goes boom next chapter. -MM
