Author's Note: I'm pretty sure there was something I meant to say up here, but I forgot what it was. Oh well! Maybe I'll think of it by the time I'm finished, and I'll stick it at the bottom… Enjoy the chapter, anyway!
Chapter 51
I Apparate into Rowle's backyard and see a single rosebush sitting in the middle of his lawn. Could he be more obtuse? That's about as obvious as placing a sign that says, Look here, I've hidden something! Bloody hell, Rowle.
I observe my surroundings carefully and hold up Astoria's wand.
Homenum Revelio.
No one's here, apart from Rowle, who appears to be inside the house.
I Vanish the blasted plant and conjure a shovel to dig for the dagger—I know from my search at Potter's home in Godric's Hollow that a Summoning Charm won't do me any good. It takes less than a minute for me to find the dagger, and I tuck it safely into an inner pocket of my robes.
Just as I'm straightening, Rowle exits through the backdoor of his house.
"Malfoy," he says. "I see you've got what you wanted. Will you free me, now?"
I point my borrowed wand at him. "Sorry, mate. I lied. Imperio."
His eyes widen in shock as the Imperius Curse settles over him with renewed force.
"I need you to get me all the information that you can about patrols at Hogwarts—their routes, shift changes, personnel. I want the information on parchment by tomorrow night. If I don't come, I will send a house-elf to retrieve what you've gathered. Don't give it to him unless he says that Karkaroff would have done a bang-up job as a Beater. Nod if you understand."
He nods once.
"Aside from that, you are permitted to act normal, as long as you never do anything that might incriminate me. And again, if you are ever caught or suspected, deny everything. If the Dark Lord decides to question you personally, kill yourself."
He nods fearfully. "Will you ever let me go?" he asks.
I wonder if I'm really that frightening. This man has got to be at least twice my age.
"I won't lie to you. It's not likely. Remember, you have to have the information by tomorrow night, or you'll have my wrath to contend to."
Death Eaters who fail are publicly punished by various methods of torture. I've had a few turns torturing my 'comrades', and judging from the way Rowle stiffens at the mention of my wrath, he's seen me at work.
Then I remember there's the last sticky bit about modifying his memory. First, I change his memory so that he remembers seeing the dagger and wanting to own it because it was such a priceless piece. Then I cast a few protective charms over his memories. If Voldemort really wants to enter his head, there's no way that these little tricks will stop him. But they can slow him down and buy some time—maybe enough for Rowle to kill himself before Voldemort can discover the connection to me.
"So, what are you going to do today?" I ask.
"Get information about Hogwarts," he replies. "If you don't come, the house elf will come, and I can't give him anything until he says that Karkaroff could be a Beater."
"Perfect. I'll leave you to it, then," I say.
Then I Apparate to my next destination: the living room of my cottage. Potter's sitting alone on the couch, seemingly deep in thought, when I arrive.
"Malfoy," he says, looking up in surprise.
"Yeah. Special delivery for you. Said I'd have it for you within the week."
I reach into the inner pocket of my robes and extract the dagger.
"You probably… shouldn't be just holding it like that…" Potter says.
"Well, I haven't dropped dead just yet," I say, setting the item down on the coffee table. "Where are the others?"
"Ron's watching over Ginny. Hermione and Blaise are in the kitchen, working on a potion for her."
"And what are you doing out here, all alone? Contemplating how you're going to die to save the world?"
"Yeah, mockery's always appreciated."
I shake my head. "Sorry."
He looks surprised by my apology. Then he speaks. "I know you've never had a high opinion of me, and I've never exactly respected you either… but I'm not thick, despite what you might think."
"What are you getting at?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.
"I never really believed that you decided to change sides just to stop the killing—honestly, I don't think you would risk your neck for that."
"Ah Potter, you think you know me so well, don't you?"
"It was for Hermione, wasn't it?" he says.
I give him a practiced look of mild surprise. "You're joking."
He shakes his head. "I know I might be wrong, but…"
"Might be? You most certainly are wrong."
"You rescued her from the Death Eater camp," Potter says. "And you asked for her to be your contact—and she still doesn't even know that fact. Like I said, Malfoy, I'm not thick."
I hate admitting to feelings. Absolutely detest it, almost as much as I can't stand talking to Ron Weasley. But what other explanation is there? I can't think of anything that would lead him to a different conclusion than the one he's reached.
"Fine," I say. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," he says.
I hide my surprise.
"I was worried at first that you had plans to hurt her—it was the only thing I could come up with at the time. But now, I don't think I have to worry anymore," he adds.
"You're that sure of your judgment?"
"I noticed that you look at her whenever she's not looking your way," he says.
"Why do you even care?"
"Because now that we're on the same side, I want to put aside our differences. I did it with Blaise, so I'm sure I can do it with you, too."
I scoff. "The issues between you and Blaise are hardly comparable to the ones between us."
"Nevertheless, I'm going to try. Dumbledore would have wanted me to."
I resist the urge to flinch at the mention of our former Headmaster's name. "Still Dumbledore's good boy, are you?"
Potter nods. "Always."
"Of course," I say, trying to keep the annoyance in my voice to an absolute minimum.
His heroic antics and his ideals of righteousness and loyalty to the cause don't sit well with me. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One, the one who's going to save our world from Voldemort. I wonder how they expect him to win. I've seen up close what Voldemort can do. How is a boy my age supposed to win against the Dark Lord?
If Potter is our only hope, I think it's pretty safe to say we're screwed.
Obviously, such things shouldn't be said aloud. Especially not in the presence of said chosen one.
"I should go back to the Manor," I say.
"You came here to see Hermione though, didn't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, and this time it's not a lie. All right, not a complete lie. I'd hoped to get a glimpse of her, but that wasn't why I came. "I brought you the dagger. I trust you know how to get rid of it."
Then the door to my bedroom opens, and Weasley steps out. I almost blast him with a Hurling Hex before realizing that he's supposed to be in there with his sister weasel.
"Malfoy, don't you go anywhere," he says in what I'm sure is supposed to be a menacing voice. "I heard everything."
I raise an eyebrow. "And?"
"How can you let Harry think that you like Hermione? And how—Harry, how can you even think that? This is Malfoy, for fuck's sake!" he hisses.
To my surprise, Potter actually looks genuinely angry with his friend. Instead of speaking up to defend myself, I decide to let Potter handle it.
"Ron, I know perfectly well who I'm talking to, all right?"
"How can you say that you're going to do nothing about it, then?" Weasley demands, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.
"And what am I supposed to do?" Potter says. "I don't suppose you want me to tell Hermione."
Should I tell them that she already knows? Hmm… nah.
Unable to answer Potter's question, Weasley turns on me. "Malfoy, you have no right—"
"No right?" I interrupt him. "Who are you to say that? Her brother, boyfriend, husband?"
"Harry, he's a Death Eater. He can't—"
"Can't what?" I ask.
"Ron, stop," Potter says. "As long as Hermione isn't interested in him, it doesn't matter what's going on in his head, does it?"
"Why are you so worried, Weasley?" I ask. "It's not like I'm going to eat her alive."
His face is positively poisonous, but he disappears back into my bedroom to accompany his little sister.
"There aren't enough rooms in this house," Potter comments.
"I didn't intend for this place to fit anyone other than myself. And if you don't like it here, I can still turn you out if I really want to."
"Yes, I know. I guess I never thanked you for letting us stay," he says. "So… thanks."
"I really should go now. Naree will bring you some more supplies in the evening."
"Three years ago, if someone told me that I'd be staying at your place, getting supplies from your house elf, I think I'd have laughed my arse off and then said I'd die first," Potter says, chuckling.
He seems to think it'll be so easy to forget everything that's ever happened between us. For Hermione's sake, I will risk my neck for him, support him, and fight for him till the bitter end, but that doesn't mean I ever want to be friends with him.
"Well it's a good thing you've grown up since then. Bye, Potter."
With that, I Apparate back to my room at the Manor.
When I see Astoria lying in the same place where I'd left her, I let out a sigh of relief. First, I modify her memory so that she won't remember ever letting me borrow her wand. Then I undo the Full Body Bind Curse and Silencing Charm placed on her and carefully tuck her wand back into her robes, waiting for her to recover.
She wakes in a moment and looks around, disoriented.
"Why am I on the ground?" she says.
"You tripped."
"Oh… so I did," she says, frowning.
I guess my mother was right—comparing her to livestock is indeed wrong. She's even dumber than a farm animal.
Then she seems to remember that we were discussing the possibility—or, in my opinion, the impossibility—of our marriage.
"You'll fall in love with me, Draco," she says. "You'll see."
"That's not likely," I scoff. "Now get out of my room."
She glowers at me.
"Go on."
Astoria gets to her feet and starts to leave the room. She pauses at the exit and glances back at me as though she's hoping that I'll change my mind. I shake my head minutely, and she groans loudly before leaving.
Author's Note: Yes, I know it might seem like Draco and Hermione haven't been together in a long time. But it really hasn't been that long. In story time, they only just saw each other last night.
Aha, I do remember what I was going to say. I was going to tell you guys that I have both of my finals back-to-back this Friday (ewwww), so I probably will not get back to posting until after that. I feel okay about math, but I'm pretty much terrified for stats, so I'll be focusing on that. I'll update again this weekend though, I promise! :)
I put these numbers on my profile, but I decided to put them here too, just because I can:
H: 25 chapters; avg. 2591 words/ch; total words: 64,765; avg. 31 reviews/ch; total reviews: 779
D: 25 chapters; avg. 2314 words/ch; total words: 57,855; avg. 34 reviews/ch; total reviews: 849
OH and one last thing: Turncoat has officially surpassed Vengeance in word count!