Found, or

Freeze, Freeze, Thou Bitter Sky

Chapter 27

Dita had enlisted magical help for the first time. Dressed in robes given her by Narcissa Malfoy and representing herself as a Squib entrusted with a commission to find a foolish young man who had lost himself in the mountains, she hired, with Narcissa's gold, a few of the poor but hardy Romanian wizards who dared penetrate into the more remote, legend-filled countryside and were well-used to helping find foolish daredevils who wanted to prove themselves. In the rural corners of Romania, no one had ever heard of a Malfoy, scarcely even of Voldemort, though it is certain they would have before too long if not for the events of the preceding spring. She had no fear of giving them a complete description of Draco (in German, to the few among them who spoke German, as she had no Romanian) nor of giving them a few of his belongings. Searching for him by magic, she reflected, was very much like searching with dogs. You gave them some possession of the lost person, and they traced him as by scent. It was very cold and snowy, and she did her best to hide her continual astonishment at the magical marvels they produced for keeping warm.

The end of Draco's diary had possessed only a few lines. It said life had become a blank, and he could not imagine the twilight life of vampire victims to be any worse. Then she remembered his younger self having a certain fascination for vampires, calling them beings a Pure-Blood might not be ashamed to consort with, elegant beings with a proper sense of dignity and a very clever way of keeping control over lesser mortals. It was something he never dared tell his father, because Lucius looked down on part-humans, of course. He could never convince his parents to take him to Romania or those parts of Hungary where vampires still lived in relatively large numbers. Dita remembered thinking, Oh, no, not another nasty mythical creature that really exists! Of course Draco would be attracted to them. And then she passed over it, but now, after reading through the devastation and desolation the last year had wrought in a family and a boy, and after following the boy in his aimless wanderings across Europe in search of a futile rest, she had no need of a diary to know his future intentions. She knew him by now and knew where his bleak mind would be turning. Maybe he would wish to be prey to vampires, to let his life drift away into the grey haze of their unturned victims or be fully transformed into a different sort of thing and no longer have to be what he was. So she went to the source of all vampire tales, Transylvania (because of course a Malfoy would have to be grandiose even in his despair), and caught rumor of a tall, pale, wraith-like man climbing deep into the mountains, against the advice of everyone who saw him.

And then, after more days in the snow and cold than she ever wanted to spend again, following an elusive trail of what she could only think of as "magic breadcrumbs," her translator told her in German that they had located him.

It was a cave in a high valley some ten miles from the nearest village. The firelight flickering inside was blue.

"If it is the young fool you are seeking, you must fetch him immediately and force him to come with us, for there is coming a blizzard and there will be no passage for days, even for wizards. If it is not your young fool, you must make him come anyway."

Dita stepped inside the cave with some uncertainty. After three and a half months of pursuit, it seemed entirely unlikely that she was actually coming face-to-face with her quarry. She had never had such a long chase, such a dangerous prey, or one whose fate was so important to her. Lucia's brother. Lucius's son.

The cave was a practically perfect cave; she didn't quite believe in it. It had a narrow opening that opened up into a smooth, round cave with a fire in the center, blue fire, no smoke. A figure was curled up beside it in what looked like a common Muggle sleeping bag, and long, tangled white-blond hair gleamed pale blue in the light. Lucia's hair, she thought.

She was about to wake him with a gentle, "Draco," when he jerked in his sleeping bag and let out a shriek. "No—please—no! Let them alone! I'll do it—I'll do it—let them alone!"

Dita looked down at him a moment, put a hand to his forehead, and then turned and went back out of the cave. "He can't leave here tonight," she told the translator.

"What? Lady, he must."

"He's not in a fit state to go anywhere. I'll stay with him. Leave us all your supplies and simply return for us when the storm has passed. It is a very secure and comfortable cave, and we'll be quite alright."

"Lady, do you know what this area of the land is known for?"

"Of course I do, but do they go out in the middle of blizzards?"

"It is not known what they might take it into their heads to do. They are not your 'cured' English vampires," he said darkly, but he could see she was determined. "We will set protective incantations around the cave and make the entrance invisible, but you must know that is no determent if they wish to get at you. You are a—what do you English call it? A Squib—is he also?"

"No, I have reason to believe he is very talented at magic." She didn't tell him she wasn't sure Draco was in any condition to do any magic. "I thank you for your help. I will pay all your trouble well."

He raised his shoulders and his eyebrows, the other men left their packs, and Dita was left alone with a raving Draco in a cave, a blizzard approaching, and vampires just over the next hills.