A/N 29-08-14: Thank you to my brother and editor John for this week's chapter title. A chilling song with perfect lyrics that I wouldn't have known about otherwise.
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Chapter Five -
The Great Below
xxx
Ocean pulls me close
And whispers in my ear
The destiny I've chose
All becoming clear
The currents have their say
The time is drawing near
Washes me away
Makes me disappear
And I descend from grace
In arms of undertow
I will take my place
In the great below
xxx
Nine Inch Nails
xxx
Draco's leg was really starting to hurt now. Whatever Seamus had done to it was wearing off and the tourniquet Hermione had made was only stopping the blood flow; if anything it made was making the pain worse. Every move he made sent agony shooting out like lightning in all directions.
He glanced at his companion in the shadowy light. Hermione was sat, barely visible, staring out at the melee where Blaise had just run back into. She was still clutching the small sword Blaise had given her from McNair, who no longer had a need for it now she had tied his hands and feet together and dragged him back into the fight so he couldn't give Draco's location away. He imagined there would be a fair few still loyal to The Dark Lord who would happily finished off what the wooden spear had started.
He couldn't believe he'd really done it. He'd faced up to Voldemort and his father, and now the rebellion had begun. And there were so may people. He'd had no idea Freiheit had so many members; he wondered how many Blaise had recruited herself, the last he'd heard that's what she'd been doing. He felt very proud of her.
He flinched back against the wall as someone with a cricket bat forced someone with a dagger across the patch of light in front of their hiding place behind the large stone pillar. The cricket bat was winning, Draco was happy to see, as its owner was a member of Freiheit. Hermione gasped and tried to make herself even smaller.
"It's alright," said Draco as the dueling pair moved away from them. "It's okay, no one can see us here."
"Unless someone actually walks around the pillar, then we're sitting ducks."
He gritted his teeth as the hole in his leg spasmed again. "Yeah," he conceded, resting his head against the cool, stone wall. "Then we're in big trouble."
She looked over at him anxiously. "How's the leg?"
"Oh," he said, trying his hardest to smile. "Absolutely fine, just a scratch."
She gave him a nervous smile, flicked her eyes out to the battle, then back to him. It was the noise that was the worst. Steal on steal, steal on squelchy things. People screaming.
"Thank you, again," she said, biting her lip. "You saved my life."
He looked at her, her matted hair and grubby face. The Muggle school uniform and the blood stained sword. He'd thought he had known everything about Hermione Granger; Blaise and he used to quiz each other about all the Muggle-born witches and wizards, he knew her birthday, her parents' names, her address, her potential skills and weaknesses in order of importance.
But he would never of guessed how her voice sounded.
"It was the least I could do," he said, looking away from her, massaging the cramping leg muscles instead. "I should never have called you that disgusting word, I was exhausted and expecting a fight with Potter. Harry." It felt weird calling him that, but three years had changed him in so many ways Draco thought he was almost a different person.
"Still," she said, twirling the short sword between her hands. "Thanks. I'd rather be alive and have you call me a name."
"I won't ever call you it again," he said, with such sincerity he instantly felt flustered. "Y'know," he added, "if we don't die a bloody, gruesome death in here."
Well done, he told himself. Very smooth.
She just nodded and looked back out into the light, biting her lip. He grimaced as his leg flared with pain again.
"You had us worried there, with that double crossing stuff," said Hermione. He moved to look at her but what little of her face that was visible in the shadows was turned to the floor. "Did you have that planned all along?"
Draco massaged his leg again, but his hand came away slick with blood making his stomach roll, so he decided to stop. "Sort of," he said. "It was Snape's idea, the guy who was talking with The Dark-" He faltered. "You-Know-Who." He would have to stop calling him that if he was going to prove he wasn't a Death Eater any more. "But we didn't think it would happen tonight, I was still hoping we'd be able to sneak in. Right up until the moment the we entered the room filled with all the Death Eaters on the planet." He waited until a wave of dizziness passed. "I had to improvise."
She smiled, or so he thought. "I'm glad you're on our side after all, I would have been very cross if you'd been lying."
The notion that she would have been 'very cross' was so absurd that Draco began laughing, quietly at first, but then his sides were aching at the effort of keeping himself together. "What?" asked Hermione, but Draco couldn't do anything but pinch the bridge of his nose and try desperately to get a grip. He supposed this was hysteria, all the pain and exhaustion pooling together at one incredibly inappropriate moment. "What!" hissed Hermione with a grin, nudging his shoulder.
The jolt of pain from his leg succeeded in breaking his giggling fit, but after he regained himself he was still smiling. "I just like the way you phrase things."
She instantly drew her hand away and looked hurt, and Draco found himself tripping over to explain.
"No, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear, I just...I've spent so long with people hating me, even wanting me dead. It, it just really amused me to think you'd give me a good telling off. I don't know."
After a moment he managed to get a smile back from her, and he was surprised how relieved it made him feel.
She stared out into the battle for some time, cringing away whenever anybody got too close. He figured the conversation was over, but after a while she piped up again.
"Don't people know they had your mother, that you had no choice but to help attack the school?"
Draco felt a wave of coldness run through him, and it was his turn to pull away from her. He looked down at his leg and focused on the throbbing, letting it fill his mind.
"I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes. "I didn't mean to upset you." She seemed to think for a while. "It just seems so unfair if people don't know the truth."
Draco lifted his head to find her looking at him. Was she defending him? Her, Hermione Granger? He blinked and thought about all the thousands of ways his day could have ended when he started out for Potter's house this morning; he would never, ever have guess this girl's sympathy would be one of them.
He made himself exhale and pull a smile at the corners of his mouth. "Life's not fair I guess. So," he said, keen to change the subject. "How how much do you know about Harry?" Maybe she could shed some light on his dramatic change of character. He was fascinated to know what had happened in the last three years to effect such a change.
But she barked a laugh, then immediately slammed a hand over her mouth in horror. However after a few moments of waiting, it was clear nobody in the battle had heard her. "I've known Harry about," she checked her watch. "Nine hours."
Draco shook his head. "That's insane," he said.
She squinted at the watch. "Sorry, no, make that eight hours and thirty seven minutes."
"I thought that's what you meant," he said. "Back in the tunnel. But I really don't get why did you come with him here? Parvati and Seamus are his best friends, idiots, but at least that makes sense – why would you do this to yourself?"
She tugged at her hair, pulling a face at the tangled mess she found her hand stuck in. "It's...complicated," she said eventually. "He knows me a lot more than I know him – he told me who I really am, put an end to all those years of suffering. I wanted to help him back...this was a little more extreme than I had in mind though I'll admit."
Draco wasn't sure what to say, so leant back against the wall and resisted the urge to shut his eyes. Even with everything going on he still felt sleepy – he couldn't remember the last lime he'd had a proper night's rest.
"He...seems different from when we were at school together," he said after a while.
"Harry?" asked Hermione and he nodded. "Hmm," she replied. "In what way?"
Draco thought about it over the clang of swords. "He could pass for a decent human being now."
Hermione smiled. "He does seem nice," she said.
Draco nodded. "You'll be alright with Potter as your friend," he said. He always looked after his own, regardless of everything else.
Hermione suddenly leant forward, staring down the corridor that led off from the auditorium. "I think..." she said slowly. "I think he's coming back."
xxx
Stepping out into space hadn't been as terrifying as Harry might have thought it would be. What was pretty frightening was where he ended up.
His feet were on solid ground, but all around him was practically pitch black and the air was whooshing and whining around him. He thought he could hear rumbling as well, and he was sure it was coming nearer.
"Lumos!" he cried, and his wand lit up, flooding his surroundings with a pale white glow. He breathed in and out, trying not to panic, then tried to stop inhaling so much as the air was so thick with dust. He was on a dramatically shortened underground tube platform, the rest of it having been bricked up a very long time ago. Mice were scurrying away from his sudden light, escaping down onto the rusty looking train track.
The breeze was coming from a corridor that led off the mini platform, but it was sealed off by a metal door frame with thick chain links, a rusting sign that Harry could only see the back of and a massive, equally rusty padlock.
"Alohomora," Harry said, prodding his wand at the lock. Thankfully it fell away with a clang, and Harry was able to edge along the small corridor, ending up in a larger one with even more dust.
From what he could tell, he must have been in an abandoned tube station. Here and there he could see cream and burgundy tiles that reminded him of other stations he'd been to, the rest were painted over grey, and junk was lying everywhere, almost all of it unrecognizable from the inches of dust masking it. Thick clumps swirled everywhere as he tried to decide which way to go, making him cough.
"Oh Alex," he moaned, shining his wand on a sign painted into the tiles that said 'No Exit'. "Where the Hell have you sent me?"
There were noises. Strange sounds that echoed up and down the half bricked up corridors and vibrated around make-shift rooms. Harry guessed the rumbling sensation was tube trains on nearby lines speeding past to other stations. He wondered how long it had been since this one had been a working station? Things clanged and the wind howled, plastic sheets rustled and something, somewhere was dripping.
Harry shivered.
Alex said he would send him as close as he could to the Ministry of Magic, which Harry knew from Ron's family was in a part of London called Whitehall. Was this the Ministry's basement? he thought. Did they used to have a tube connection? He didn't even know where Whitehall was in the capital, he didn't have the foggiest. Even if he found out where he was, he wouldn't know how to get to the Ministry. He'd been hoping Alex would send him right to the front door.
He found a patch of writing in white chalk, barely visible under all the dust, that said in a very neat hand 'Welcome to the Burrow.' Harry stared at it a long time, wondering if it was just a coincidence that that was what the Weasleys' house was called. He eventually decided it must have been, and pulled himself away.
He came upon rooms that looked like they had once been used for something other than running a tube station; one in particular had a dilapidated desk sagging under the weight of the dust, and a wall made up of switches and cables plugged into circular sockets. Another looked like it once might have been a kitchen, and there were faint signs everywhere that read 'To Offices' and 'To Enquires and Committee Room'.
Harry became more and more convinced this place had definitely been used for some sort of meeting place after it had closed as a station, but he wasn't sure what and pondering on it wasn't helping him get out of it. He just kept asking himself why Alex would send him here. Maybe it was an accident?
Just to confuse him, there were plenty of more modern looking signs as well, bright yellow ones encouraging people to wear hard hats, rather unhelpful black and white 'No Exit' ones, and even a white one with a purple line at the top informing him that it was left to get to the Eastbound line. However when Harry tried heading that way he just found himself at the end of yet another bricked up corridor. Maybe there was a time, perhaps when it was a meeting place, that people really didn't want anything else getting in here. Or out.
He started to panic that maybe he was stuck here. He wasn't old enough to apparate and nobody expect Alex knew he was down here; somehow he didn't think he'd be able to convince an owl to deliver an SOS into outer space.
Once again he found himself cursing Alex. All he'd done was pull him away from the friends who needed him, overloaded him with information about the multiverse, then dropped him off who knew where with no clue how to get out. He curled up his fists as another coughing fit took over, and he tried to use his sleeve as a filter to stop so much dust getting into his lungs.
Maybe he could send out his Patronus? He'd seen other people do it, they even relayed messages. It could bring someone back to try and help him out of whatever building he was now trapped in. But even if he could work out how to make his stag talk, who would he send it to? All his friends had undoubtedly been taken prisoner by Bellatrix, everyone at the school was frozen solid, and the only family he had were the Dursleys, who would almost certainly attack a ghostly looking stag with the vacuum cleaner.
There was nothing for it, he was just going to have to find his own way out. Surely if Alex was a Watcher, he'd be watching right now and he wouldn't just leave Harry down here to starve to death. So logically there must be an exit hidden somewhere, he just hadn't found it yet. The thought spurred him on.
Another train shot past, making Harry jump. Sometimes he could see glimpses of movement from the trains on the other lines, but at times like this he saw nothing and it felt as if the trains were sneaking up behind him. He shuddered and began walking again once the shaking had stopped.
He found himself in an extra wide, circular corridor that seemed as wide as normal tube tunnel. What was even better though, was that he spied a box that looked like it could have held fuses, or even switches. He yanked the rusty door open, and saw a lever that read 'Mains'. "Come on, come on," he muttered to himself as he heaved the switch upright.
Dozens of light bulbs sprung to life. Harry actually cried out in joy, and then a second time as he realised the corridor ended in a metal staircase. A staircase that was going up.
Up had to be good, he thought as he bombed down the corridor and stared up at the stairs. It spiralled up over a dozen flights, but the metal looked new and the lights here were even more frequent. Another train rumbled by impossibly loudly, playing with the air pressure and hurting Harry's ears; it seemed like his cue to leave.
He took the steps two at a time, the metal clanging has his trainers slammed down. He wasn't sure how long he went up for, but after five minutes his thighs were cramping. Finally the spiral stairs ended in a straight set of steps, and at the end of those he could see a modern day fire escape.
He whooped and actually punched the air, causing a cloud of dust to fall gently from his clothes. He ran up the last of the stairs and slammed into the release bar.
He burst out into the evening air, gulping it down as several passersby gave him strange looks. He hastily put his wand away, then shook himself like a dog, producing an even larger cloud of dust, and wiped his glasses on the underneath of his t-shirt so he could see clearly again. He pushed the fire escape closed, locking it from the outside, and stared up at the blood red bricks of the building he had just vacated.
A news agents had taken up part of the building under its middle archway, but the rest of it was clearly the remains of a tube entrance. Harry turned and looked for a street name. He had to walk to the end of the road to find one: Down Street.
He peered at the four story building that stood above him. It looked like he was in London, he was sure of it. That was a small victory in itself, but now he had to work out exactly where Down Street was.
And how on Earth he found his way to Whitehall from there.
xxx
Sarah shuffled the playing cards nervously as she sucked on a large chunk of Honeydukes' Mint and Butterscotch chocolate. The cards were battered and some looked like they'd been chewed, and on the front were famous Quidditch players from the eighties. She recognised Uma Snattlelott from Puddlemere United, as her dad still had a poster of her up in his study that he refused to take down, no matter how much her mum had nagged him.
She really hoped the frozen man at the desk wouldn't mind her borrowing his cards and eating his chocolate. She'd promised him she would buy him two bars to replace it, but of course he'd said nothing back. She flipped over another card and assessed her game of patience on the office floor, a colony of butterflies flapping about in her stomach.
This had been her idea, she'd argued with Draco until she was blue in the face. She was the youngest and the smallest and knew the least magic, it would make sense that they'd leave her behind. But now as she looked around the empty office with only her Quidditch players for company, she wondered if it was such a good idea. Not that they had their wands anyway, but she did have a far inferior knowledge of spells (something Hermione kept pointing out, much to her annoyance) and she was starting to feel quite vulnerable.
Just stick to the plan, she said, slapping over another card. All you have to do is wait, you can do that can't you? You're not a baby, they're counting on you to do this. Suddenly, there was a noise outside the door, and Sarah almost dropped the playing cards in her hands. This was what she'd been waiting for, but her heart was thudding so hard against her ribcage she worried whoever was outside might hear it. "You can do this," she whispered to herself, forcing her hand to place down another card, trying her best not to shake. "Just breathe."
The office door opened, and the brute of a man who'd picked her off the floor in Sirius' kitchen stood on the other side, a tray of food in one of his massive hands. It took him a moment to look around the room. He stepped inside, then looked behind the door.
"Where are they?" he asked in disbelief.
Sarah smacked another card onto the carpet. "They left me," she snapped, not looking up, overturning another card without thinking about it and plonking it wherever she felt like. Winning the game was definitely not her priority at that moment in time. "They said I would slow them down. Ooh," she cried, jumping to her feet and eying up the tray. "Is that mashed potato? I'm starving."
The brute took the tray and smashed it into the floor with a roar, causing Sarah to cower back and scatter the cards everywhere. "Where ARE they!" he bellowed. Sarah tried to keep breathing, reminding herself that she'd expected this, of course he was going to be mad. She just had to play up her innocence.
"I don't KNOW!" she yelled back, tears springing easily to her eyes. "They wouldn't take me, they said I didn't know enough magic, that when they got their wands back they'd come get me but I don't BELIEVE THEM!"
He crossed the distance between them in two strides, and seized her shoulders, giving her a shake. "You filthy little liar," he growled. "You tell me where they went and how they got out right now!"
She really did begin crying then, it wasn't hard. "I don't know," she sobbed. "I'm too young, please don't hurt me, please!"
The Death Eater glared at her as she sniffed. She really wanted to jab her fingers in his beady eyes, but she resisted. It would be better for now to just be scared, fighting back could come later.
"Fine," he snarled, grinding his teeth. "You can come with me then, and you can explain how they got out, and you'd better work out where they've gone pretty quickly, or my master will be very, very unhappy."
And with that, he half led, half dragged Sarah Potter from the office without a second look.
He especially didn't look at the big wardrobe, the one with all the balding man's novelty ties.
And he certainly didn't hear it swing open the moment he and Sarah left the room.
xxx
Harry had decided to cut to the chase and ask in the news agents under the old tube station arches how far away he was from Whitehall. The middle-aged Sikh man behind the till must have felt quite sorry for him, because not only did he explain twice in broken English how close they were, and three times exactly how to get there, but he also insisted Harry take a free bar of chocolate and a packet of wet wipes to get all the dust off himself. Apart from being reunited with his long lost friend and sister, this was undoubtedly the highlight of Harry's day so far.
Looking less like the survivor of a bomb blast and finishing the last of his Muggle chocolate, he traipsed across Green Park, using his wand to keep him heading in the right direction. Dusk was well and truly setting on the edges of the horizon, starting to throw far stretching shadows from the trees and buildings on the edges of the park. To his right he could see the very top of Buckingham Palace, and wondered absent-mindedly if the flag being halfway down meant the Queen was in or not.
It wasn't long before he came to the end of the park and could see the palace in all its glory. But he turned his back to it and began making his way along a very wide road lined with trees. It felt like a very peaceful Sunday evening, and Harry let himself enjoy it, even if he knew it was only an illusion, even though he knew chaos and mayhem were waiting for him again just around the corner. For now he pretended he was just another tourist with a fancy camera and a guide book written in a foreign language.
He thought it a bad idea to keep his wand out whilst he was walking down the street, but when he got to the end with the large roundabout – just like the news agent said he would – he snuck it out again and whispered 'point me' to it. It spun round to the right and stayed there, quivering, so Harry pocketed it and headed off, looking round for any likely looking buildings.
He walked until he got to Westminster Bridge and realised that was where Whitehall came to an end, so, feeling a little uneasy walked back up again. Halfway down his third inspection of the road, despite it being busy, he pulled out his wand again, asking for directions. It told him to go back up to the roundabout which confused him, but he did as he was told, keeping the wand up his sleeve to keep checking his progress. As he was starting to feel a bit despairing as he approached the roundabout again, the wand told him he'd gone too far. He breathed out a sigh of relief; that meant it had to be between where he stood now and the last place he checked his progress, which was only twenty or so meters back.
A woman with red dreadlocks eyed him suspiciously as he lost all regard for pretence and walked along with his wand sat in his hand. But it was worth it, as he walked by a smaller alleyway and it suddenly turned a sharp left. "Here?" he asked it, looking uncertainly down the narrow street filled with nothing but old newspapers and a red telephone box covered in graffiti. There was a few offices that were well and truly shut, and a pub that looking like it hadn't seen customer for years. Unsurprisingly, the wand did not reply, so he had no choice but to wander down the alley, inspecting everything to see if it looked like the visitors entrance to the Ministry of magic. It didn't.
He mooched back onto Whitehall, dejected. He must be missing something, he guessed the entrance must be hidden so that Muggles didn't accidently find it, but he was running out of time. Anything could be happening to his friends, Alex had said the same thing that had happened to the school had happened to the Ministry. But how? he thought, frustrated as he stared at a group students taking photos of themselves with Big Ben in the background. How could they have possibly overrun the school and the Ministry?
He glance back up towards the big roundabout, and then a second later his stomach convulsed as he realised what he'd just seen. Two grim-faced looking men were walking towards him, one wore flowery welly boots and a kimono, the other sandals, a kilt and a plastic poncho. Being London, most people just raised their eyebrows, nudged their friends to look, or just ignored them completely. But Harry had a much better idea of who these two were.
Wizards, trying to dress as Muggles. And knowing his luck he guessed he knew exactly what kind of wizards. He dropped as casually as he could to his knee, pulling his signature glasses off with one hand, slipping them and the wand up his sleeve, then yanked his trainer lace undone so by the time the two men walked passed him he was fully engrossed in tying it again, hair hopefully falling all the way over his lightning bolt scar.
They turned straight into the narrow street with the phone box. Harry held his breath and tried to shift his angle so he could see what they were doing. They'd stopped by what looked like a bag of rubbish and were pulling out a couple of sets of robes. Harry guessed there must have been a filter at the end of the alley so Muggles couldn't see magical goings on, as the two seemed wholly unconcerned as they pulled their mishmash of Muggle clothes off and redressed themselves in their own, black robes.
"Complete waste of time," said the man on the left in a Welsh accent. He was smaller than his companion by at least half a foot, and had wicked looking eyes and a small, pinched mouth.
The taller one with salt and pepper hair shrugged. "Boss says 'do', I do," he said.
The Welsh one smoothed down his robes. "As if he'd be stupid enough to come poking around here? He'll be long gone."
The taller one shrugged again. "Boss has got his mates. I reckon he'll come looking around. And that's what he wants isn't it, he wants him to come back?"
The Welsh one sighed as if he couldn't care less. "I don't know, but you can hang around here if you want to find out. I need a cup of tea."
Salt-and-Pepper pursed his lips, then nodded his head in agreement. Having finished dressing he yanked the door of the telephone box open and stepped inside. "What's the code again?" he asked the smaller man who was still putting on his shoes.
He scoffed. "Magic," he said scornfully. "How bloody stupid is that?"
The taller man waited until he'd finished with his last lace and entered the phone booth, then did something Harry couldn't quite see with the receiver. The entire telephone box began sinking into the ground.
Harry let go of the breath he'd been holding, immensely relieved neither one had looked around properly to see him supposedly trying his lace for at least three minutes. He stood up and shook pins and needles from the leg he'd been kneeling on.
That must be the entrance, he thought, hovering on the edge of the alley to see what happened. He didn't want to go over there and wait for the booth to re-emerge only to have a fresh set of Death Eaters in.
They were talking about him, of that much he was certain. He wasn't surprised to hear Voldemort was looking for him after the stunt Bellatrix had pulled at Sirius' house. But why? And why with such intensity? When he'd needed Harry before he'd orchestrated the entire Tri-Wizard tournament over the best part of a year. This screamed of desperation.
There was a sort of whirring noise, and slowly the red box started emerging again. Harry ducked back around onto Whitehall again, and waited until the whirring had stopped before looking back around. The alley was once more deserted.
Not wasting any more time, he dashed over to the booth and jumped inside. The Welsh man had said the code was 'Magic' but as he looked around the inside of the box he wasn't really sure what that translated to. He tried saying 'Magic' into the mouth piece, but nothing happened. He started getting nervous; he was a easy target standing trapped in a glass box. He thought maybe there was a spell he should do, but the taller man had definitely done something physically to the keypad itself. Harry stared at it; then his eyes widened. The numbers all had at least three letters on as well as their numerical worth. He could spell the word outright he realised with a rush of excitement. He looked around to make sure he wasn't being watched, then punched in 62442 – or 'Magic' if you looked at the letters.
"Welcome," said a soothing voice, making Harry jump. There was no one there, but it sounded like a woman was standing right by him as she spoke.
"Um, hi?" said Harry back.
"Please state your name and purpose."
Harry thought about it. "My name is...Alex Watcher," he said, feeling it was best not to give his real name. "And I'm here..." Oh what the Hell, he thought. "I'm here," he said, more forcefully. "To find my friends and save the Ministry." After a moment there was a rattling noise, and a silver badge popped out of the change dispenser. It had been engraved, and now read 'Alex Watcher – Rescue Mission'.
Harry gripped onto it as the box began to descend, then slipped the badge into his jeans. Wand in hand and heart in mouth, he waited for the Ministry to emerge.
xxx
Draco was beside himself. "It should have been me!" he ranted for at least the dozenth time as he shoved the blasted wardrobe again. He laced his fingers through his hair, yanked, and closed his eyes as he tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.
"No," insisted Hermione, causing him to open his eyes. "She was right, it was much more believable that we would leave her – you're a foot taller, two stone heavier and as far as they'd be concerned trained up to at least OWL level."
Draco snatched his hands from his hair and slammed them down on the balding man's desk. "She was supposed to be right outside the door! We only lost sight of her for a few seconds and now they've got her and they'll be angry!"
When he'd suggested his wardrobe plan, for everyone to hide and then have someone tell the guard they'd escaped, he'd fully intended to have himself be the bait. But Sarah had argued her point with such conviction, she'd swayed Ron and Hermione relatively easily. But the last thing Draco had wanted to do was put her in any more danger than he absolutely had to, he'd promised to protect her, he'd said the words to her face.
He'd refused as long as he had because he also suspected there was another reason Sarah was putting herself on the front line. He couldn't help but wonder if she wanted some sort of payback for what had happened to her last November; after being taken prisoner, maybe she wanted to get one over on them, even if it wasn't technically the same people or even the same world.
Eventually, Hermione had sworn they would abandon their hiding place as soon as whoever came left with the door open behind them, that way they could jump them from behind. But when they'd done just that, they'd emerged to find a deserted corridor waiting for them.
"She's only thirteen," said Draco, feeling physically sick. "I'm supposed to take care of her – me – her dad asked me to, not Harry, and I've handed her over to be tortured!"
"Now you listen to me, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, stamping her foot. He blinked in surprise. "Nobody wanted this to happen. We had a plan, and it went wrong. We're not going to help her by losing it here. We need to get out before anybody thinks to actually come back and check for us, then we can look for her, our wands, and anything else that will help us get out of this stupid place!"
Draco stared at her. He'd never even heard his own Hermione shout before, not like that. It was pretty scary.
Ron however didn't seemed phased at all. "She's right mate," he said, "we need to get going. If we get captured we'll end up right where we started."
"Go where though?" he demanded. "We have no idea where they've taken her."
"Anywhere," said Hermione, throwing her hands up. "So long as we're not here when they come back, we stand a better chance of remaining free to find her." She shoved her hands on her hips. "Now are you coming, or do we have to leave you behind?"
Draco was instantly irked at the idea Hermione would leave him behind and take Ron, so he gritted his teeth. "Fine then," he said, then marched out the door.
How had they disappeared though? Draco thought angrily as he stalked off to the left, back towards the elevators. He didn't think you could apparate in the Ministry any more than you could at Hogwarts. Unless there was a secret corridor or something, but without knowing exactly where or what those kind of things were impossible to find, so he didn't even bother to look as he stomped up to the lifts.
"So where are we going?"
Hermione chewed her lip and thought. "We know there are bad guys upstairs, so why don't we take a look and see what's down a floor?"
Draco shrugged and jabbed the number five button. He couldn't understand why the other two weren't more upset; maybe he was feeling overtly responsible because it had been his plan, or because he'd been living with her for the past few months and she was essentially just a stranger to them, but their apparent lack of panic or worry was making him even more angry.
The lift opened on the fifth floor, and the three students peered cautiously out. There didn't seem to be anybody moving, but there were a considerable amount of frozen Ministry employees stuck mid way between actions. Some were walking, some mid-conversations, complete with hand gestures. One skinny girl with limp blonde hair and a badge that read 'Temp' had a box of frosted doughnuts in her hands, people eagerly delving in to help themselves.
"Oh yes," exclaimed Ron, plucking a pink one between the fingers. "I'm starving." He saw that Draco and Hermione were staring incredulously at him. "What?" he asked, shoving a bite in his mouth. "It'll only go stale – you want some?"
Hermione shook her head, but Draco just curled up his fists and headed down the corridor. Eating was the last thing on his mind.
"Wait," said Hermione, looking between Ron's half eaten doughnut and a witch across the corridor who had been gesticulating with her wand.
"What?" said Ron guiltily through a full mouth. But Hermione waved him off.
"You just gave me an idea," she said. "Although I'm not sure a disaster such as this one gives you licence to steal."
Ron shrugged as if he couldn't care less now he'd had his doughnut, but Draco was watching Hermione as she moved over to the other witch. "As it is a disaster," she said, walking confidently up to her. "I'm sure some of these people wouldn't mind if we borrowed their wands."
Draco nodded. "Good thinking," he said as she wrapped her fingers around the wand, but as she pulled nothing happened.
"It's stuck?" she said, and tried pulling again. Draco frowned as he came to stand by her, but no matter what angle she tried, the wand refused to part from the hand of its owner.
"Let me try?" said Ron, licking his sticky fingers. Hermione huffed and stepped aside, but Ron had no more luck that she had.
Draco looked around at the other witches and wizards. "Here," he said, pointing at an elderly gentleman who appeared to be scratching his head with his wand. "Let's try someone else." But the wizard's wand refused to leave his hand just as much as the witch's. Even trying to pull several out of other people's pockets yielded them nothing, and eventually Hermione sighed in defeat.
"They must be melded to them," she said in disappointment. "As part of the spell."
Ron patted her on the back. "It was a good idea though," he said kindly.
Draco was disappointed too, but seeing as they were no worse off than they had been before, he suggested they move on, keep looking for Sarah.
The hallway had several doors leading off from it, most of which were open so their occupants could be seen. From the signs on the walls it seemed it appeared they were in the International Magical Office of Law.
As Draco was heading towards the T junction at the end, several of the Ministry people were looking up and towards the junction in surprise. Numerous others were moving from their desks, some leaning out of their doors in concern.
"What's going on here?" asked Hermione, weaving around several bodies to stand beside Draco.
He frowned. "I'm not sure. Let's keep going."
They reached the end of the corridor, but upon seeing down each of the left and right corridors, it wasn't hard to decide which direction to go in. To their right, halfway down, there was a great body of people, flailing out, and apparently shouting at people who were no longer there. Ron caught up to them, and the three of them walked up to the gaggle, who were spilling out of the office behind them.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," breathed Draco, staring at the familiar, though very angry face of the agent he'd met in Germany and then several times since on follow up business. He looked at the name on the door everyone was gathered around. "This is his office."
"My dad said he got promoted after Sirius got his name cleared," said Ron, squinting at the man's frozen face. "Something top notch, dunno what."
"I think," said Hermione, stepping back to analyse the situation. "They were trying to stop people coming in."
"And then they got frozen," said Ron in wonder.
Draco rubbed his head to try in vain to ease the headache that still hadn't left him. "Perhaps," he said, rolling his shoulders. "We should try and find out why they didn't want anyone getting in the office?"
Hermione looked tentatively up and down the hallway, then nodded. However, getting into the office was easier said than done, as there was such a cluster of people packed in and around the doorway it was almost impossible to squeeze past the rock solid bodies. Eventually, Draco took the rather ungraceful route of crawling between their legs.
Kingsley's office was very neat, with several tribal looking artefacts hanging from the walls, as well as a calendar of water skiing puppies. There were several other people frozen in the room, a woman pulling at drawers in the desk, another yanking open a filling cabinet, and a man standing by the window. The woman at the cabinet's hand was held up at a funny angle, making it look like a claw. Hermione spotted it as soon as she'd crawled through into the room. "That's odd," she said, going over and peering at her and then in at the files.
Ron made his way in too and looked around. "I wish I could remember what Kingsley's new job was," he muttered to himself, going over to stare at the puppies splashing around under 'October. "Might explain why everyone's gathered around here."
"The Death Eaters must have wanted something," said Draco, already losing interest. "Probably a file that that woman had in her hand." He indicated over to her with a nod, and Hermione started riffling through the drawer the Ministry woman still had her other hand resting on.
"Dice," Hermione said, reading out names from the file separators. "Didcot Railway Authority, Dignitaries; Foreign –"
"A-choo!"
"Bless you," said Hermione without even blinking. "Dilberton, Walter –"
"I didn't sneeze."
Draco found himself going very still. "What?" said Hermione, looking up at Ron.
"I didn't sneeze," he repeated, and Draco turned to see him peering up from under the desk. "I was looking under here to see if there was anything dodgy – my dad has a trap door that he uses when he wants to avoid meetings."
"Then who did sneeze?" asked Draco. Because it certainly wasn't him.
Suddenly, the man standing by the window wasn't quite as frozen as he should have been any more. In fact, he was reaching for his wand as fast as he could. With a yell, Draco sprung off his feet and slammed into him, knocking them both to the floor. Ron scrambled up and joined in as the man started shouting.
"Get off me! Get off me!" he squeaked, but Draco didn't relent until he'd wrestled his wand off him and had it pointed at his head.
"Who are you?" he demanded, panting. Ron was scowling through his black eye, which he was once again cradling after the Death Eater had thumped it with his elbow. Hermione raced over and stood side by side with Draco.
"What are you doing in here, what do you want?"
The Death Eater, a fleshy, freckled man with strawberry blonde tufts of hair and beard, backed up against the fake window. "I'm not telling you anything!" he spat. "What the Hell are you doing here anyway, you're just kids?"
"Kids with your own wand pointed at you," said Draco, not able to help the hint of a smile that crept on his face. It felt good to fight back. "Who you are probably isn't important as if you're not frozen you must be a Death Eater." The man glared at him and pressed his lips together. "So that leaves why are you here, didn't you already get what you wanted."
This time the man actually spat, right at Draco's feet. He felt his anger bubbling. Channel it, he willed himself, you need information from this man.
"Ahh," he said softly in mock sympathy. "Weren't you allowed to hang out with the big boys? Did you have to hang out here and sit with the statues?"
The man curled his lip in a sneer. "You think you can goad me into talking?" he said, then puffed a few gasps of air that could have been a laugh. "You're even more of an idiot than I first thought."
"I am Lucius Malfoy's son."
All colour drained behind the man's freckles. "You...you what?"
"You heard him," said Ron, bolstering up to Draco's side. "He's Draco Malfoy, and we're his mates, so you'd better do what he says or he'll tell his dad."
The freckled man looked between them, mouth open. "But...why aren't you at the school?"
"Change of plan."
"Oh..." he said, eyes flicking wildly about in confusion. "So...so we're on the same side, you can give me back my wand?"
"I lost my wand," said Draco arrogantly, that old familiar Malfoy coming back to him again. He lowered said wand to a more casual stance. "I need to borrow yours. My father wanted us to check up on...things about the place." Inwardly he cringed at how stupid he sounded, but apparently the Malfoy name was enough to counteract it. "He didn't say anyone would be here though."
"Oh, oh," said the man eagerly. "I was going through all the other files, like I was told, in case there was anything else interesting."
"So you already got the file you needed?" asked Hermione, and the man nodded. Unfortunately he didn't elaborate, and Draco felt it would be pushing his luck to ask. So instead he said:
"We were told to go check on that girl next, the little Goth one, but she's been moved." He felt his throat go dry, but he swallowed and thought of Sarah. "Do you have any idea where she would have been taken?"
The man looked a little perplexed. "Well I've been here the whole time, I didn't hear anything about a girl." Draco was just weighing up what he should do next when the man cried out. "Oh! But I did hear someone say something about prisoners in the Quidditch offices. Even if she's not there they'd probably know where she went."
He looked very pleased with himself, which made Draco even happier. "Thank you," he said with a smile, before whipping the man's wand up again. "Stupefy!"
The man slammed into the wall and crumpled on the floor in an unconscious heap. "Where are the Quidditch offices?" Draco asked, turning away from him.
"Erm," said Ron, screwing up his face as he thought. "Definitely lower, on Level Seven or Eight I think."
"Fantastic," said Draco, "let's go."
"Wait," said Hermione, dashing back over to the cabinet. "I just thought I'd spied an empty label when he sneezed, it might tell us what they came in here to find." She started thumbing through the files again. And then her face dropped.
Draco and Ron looked at each other. "What?" asked Ron. But Hermione didn't answer, instead, she reached in and prised the label out of the holder. She walked over to the boys, and held it out with trembling hands for them to see.
"'Dimensional Hotspots'," read Draco aloud in disbelief.
xxx
Harry crouched down in the lift so he could see where he was the second it broke through. He was in an wide underground corridor with crackling fireplaces lining each side and dozens of people frozen mid-action. He could hear himself breathing rapidly as his eyes scanned the men and women from the Ministry who were mid-stride, mid-conversation, checking their watches, reading documents. It was true then.
Harry stood up slowly once it was clear no one was awake to see him, and waited for the lift to stop. It did so with a 'ping!' and the telephone box door swung open. Harry waited for anyone to react to his presence, then stepped slowly out.
How could they have commandeered the Ministry as well as the school, how? There must be countless spells and enchantments in place to stop this from happening. He sighed and walked slowly through the statues of people towards a large golden fountain at the end of the corridor. He could worry about the why later, he reasoned, for now he had to try and find his friends without getting caught.
The sound of voices made him start and whip his head around in panic. He wasn't at the end of the fireplace corridor yet, so he couldn't really tell which direction they were coming from. He looked around desperately for somewhere to hide; he could jump into a fireplace but where would he go, how would he get back? He then realised he had no Floo powder anyway, so that wasn't an option. The voices were getting closer, and the telephone booth had retracted back up to street level taking with it his only exit. Maybe he could try and hide behind a person?
Or why hide at all? He froze where he was, as if he was walking towards one of the mantelpieces. He slowed his breathing down as much as he could, and stared unblinking at the floor. He was far enough back and in amongst plenty of people, if he had any luck at all whoever it was would walk right past him without a moment's pause.
And then, Harry remembered that luck wasn't always his friend. Out of the corner of his unmoving eye, he saw two figures turn the corner and head straight for where the phone box had just left. Harry could feel a bead of sweat pricking on his temple, and he did his best to will it not to roll down his face.
"-can't believe they ate all the chocolate digestives," moaned a familiar Welsh accent. "Do you think one of them Muggle shops would take a Galleon?"
They stopped barely a few feet from Harry and the taller one with the salt and pepper hair did something with his wand, presumably to call the booth down again. Harry felt dizzy with the effort of concentrating on not moving. Come on, he urged the phone box, come on hurry up.
"Hey," said the one who wasn't Welsh. "Hey look at that bloke, he looks a bit like Harry Potter doesn't he?"
Harry felt the world tilt, but strained every muscle not to react. He prayed his hair was at least covering his scar. "Yeah," said the Welsh one, surprised. "It's the glasses I guess, and he's a bloody midget."
Harry felt the was rich coming from him, who was barely taller than himself, but he was more concerned that Salt-and-Pepper was moving over to him, and leaned in to stare at his face. "Um – he's got a scar as well?"
"What?" asked the Welsh one, ignoring the phone booth as he lowered to the ground. "Are you kidding?"
He came and stood beside his partner, staring at Harry's face. There was nothing for it – his wand was already in his hand after all.
"Hello," he said.
The two Death Eaters jumped back in shock, and Harry aimed a spell over his shoulder at them as he took off like lightning. "Expelliarmus!" he cried, not sure if he hit anything or not. His trainers slapped on the polished oak floor as he sprinted away. The men were yelling and roaring after him, and Harry jerked to the left as a blue spell went flying over his head.
It missed him by a foot or so, but it hit the golden fountain at the end of the corridor in a spectacular explosion of sparks. With a crash like a roll of thunder the fountain blew apart and water escaped it's confines in all directions, pouring out disproportionately all over the floor, flooding the auditorium in seconds.
Harry didn't have time to think, he just pelted beyond the wreck of the fountain with its half destroyed golden statues and down another corridor. The water was chasing him, rushing along so he was now running through a good few inches of water.
The Welsh man and Salt-and-Pepper were cursing him, and Harry could hear them splashing behind him, but he didn't stop to look. His corridor became a crossroads, and he veered left, shooting past a series of offices. It was at this point he dared look over his shoulder, and when he saw there was no one following, he darted into the nearest office and threw himself behind the door.
He gulped down several breaths, then strained his ears to hear whether or not he was being followed. The two men were still shouting, but from the sounds of it they had gone straight on at the crossroad, and soon enough all Harry could hear was the lapping and whooshing of water. He looked down, incredulous as the Ministry's new lake rippled excitedly around his shins. How could one fountain produce some much water? Whatever the blue curse must have been, it had obviously had an unhappy reaction with whatever spells were infused on the fountain.
Not wanting to wait until the Death Eaters came back, Harry headed back out of the office, and headed in the direction several signs told him the elevators were.
If the fountain kept this up, he'd soon need a snorkel to try and find his friends.
xxx
Sarah didn't know what happened. One second they were walking out of the balding man's office, the next they'd been in a corridor lined with Quidditch posters. Her knees gave way, and the oaf tried angrily to pull her up again but her head was whirring. "What happened!" she stammered. "Where are we?"
She looked behind them and there was no sign of the office. No sign of Draco. Her stomach twisted in fear, he was supposed to come out and rescue her, it was all planned, there was nothing that could go wrong. "I thought you couldn't apparate in the Ministry?" she asked desperately. The man just yanked her arm until her legs had no choice but to walk.
"No questions," he grunted.
All the office doors were covered with memorabilia from different Quidditch teams, there were several Death Eaters hurrying about and most of them gave her suspicious looks as they rushed past. Sarah couldn't stop shaking. They were going to hurt her like last time, they would do...it would be...
The tears were falling silently down her face. She wanted to fight, she wanted to scream and tell them all they could go to Hell, but they'd taken her wand, and she was the smallest person she'd seen since they'd left the school. She didn't stand a chance.
Why didn't she listen to Draco? He'd begged her not to be the bait, but she'd been so stubborn. She would never wish Draco to be in danger, but he could have at least tried to punch his way out. All she had was a foul mouth.
Somebody screamed, and Sarah's insides flipped over so violently she was certain all the chocolate she'd eaten was going to come straight back up. They were hurting someone, it could be her next. "Please," she found her tiny voice whimpering. "Please, I don't know anything."
The big man said nothing, which scared her even more.
He threw open a door covered in paraphernalia for the Wigtown Wanderers, and Sarah had to give everything she had not to pass out. Bellatrix Lestrange was standing in an office whose contents had been pushed to the walls to clear a space on the floor. Sprawled on that floor, black and blue, blood running from his nose and mouth, was Sirius Black.
"Sirius!" screamed Sarah, unable to choke back the sob in her throat. Sirius managed to lift his head and smile through blood soaked teeth.
"Hi sweetie," he croaked. "Bells and I were just having a chat and a cuppa. You okay?"
Bellatrix, flicked her wand angrily and him, and he jerked over in a shower of scarlet droplets. Sarah was crying uncontrollably now.
"Stop it!" she screamed, ignoring the man's fingers digging into her arm. "He hasn't done anything, leave him alone!"
Bellatrix acted as if she hadn't said anything and looked straight at the oaf. "What's the meaning of this Mane, I told you I was not to be disturbed?"
The man, Mane, shoved Sarah to the floor, where she curled up on her knees. This woman was going to kill her in a fit of temper, just like that Death Eater back at Sirius' house. Mane explained what had happened when he'd gone back to the office and found only Sarah there, but she heard the words only faintly over the loud buzzing in her ears. She would never get home, she would never see her parents again, they would never know what happened to her.
Bellatrix swooped down and dragged her from the floor by her hair, causing her to cry out. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" bellowed Sirius, scrambling from the carpet, but Mane aimed a malevolent 'Crucio' at him and he went back down in a twist of limbs.
Bellatrix let her squirm for a bit whilst she studied her face carefully. "What's your name, little girl?" she whispered after a time.
"Sarah," she said, not bothering to lie. She couldn't see the point.
"Sarah," repeated Bellatrix slowly. "And why are you friends with someone like Potter, he'll get you in all kinds of trouble you know."
"He's the bravest person I ever met," spat Sarah, holding the back of her head to try and relieve some of the pain from the hair Bellatrix was pulling. Bellatrix laughed.
"Stupidest more like."
Sarah twisted, even though it hurt. "He managed to escape you without too much trouble," she shot back. Bellatrix's face darkened and she leaned in right up close to Sarah.
"And left all of you for me to play with," she whispered, curling her lip. "What a hero."
"Ms Lestrange!"
They all turned to look as two men skidded to a halt outside the door. They were soaking wet.
"Ms Lestrange!" said the shorter of the two again in a Welsh accent. "Potter, in the auditorium!"
"What?" she snapped, tightening her grip of Sarah's ponytail causing her to gasp but her heart was in her mouth. Was Harry here?
"He was hiding amongst the Ministry people," said the Welsh man, puffing up his chest. "We found him, but then he blew up that fountain with the elves on and it won't stop flooding."
Bellatrix looked at them as if she'd just been informed that London zoo had just been opened and the monkeys were chasing the giraffes if she'd like to see?
"Where is Potter?" she demanded, eyes wild, mouth hanging open.
"Well," said the man, "er, we er, lost him. Cuz of all the water."
Bellatrix flung Sarah to the ground but she barely felt the impact. Harry was here! He was okay, he was coming to her rescue! Sirius shuffled over to her and wrapped his arms protectively around her. The action startled her; this Sirius had only just met her. But she guessed from what Harry said he knew who she was, and she wasn't going to shake him off. Instead she gripped on to his arm and curled into his body, covering her clothes in his blood. "Hang in there," he whispered.
"You lost him!" screeched Bellatrix, and the two men flinched backwards. "Does water now make you invisible? Does it have magical teleportation properties I was unaware of!"
The two men glanced at each other. "Erm," said the taller with salt-and-pepper hair. "I don't think so boss."
She howled in rage and blasted them both off their feet, before turning her wand on Mane. "You!" she snarled. "Get double the guards on those brats, I won't risk him getting to them first."
The brute man Mane went the colour of old porridge. "Well, Ma'am, that's...that's what I came down here to tell you." He shuffled his feet and bit his chapped lips. "They ain't there anymore."
Bellatrix just stared at him. After a few moments of silence, Mane shuffled his feet again. "That girl, she said they escaped and left her behind because she was too little."
Bellatrix turned her head to Sarah, still cradled in Sirius' arms, and stared at her with wide, mad eyes. "Well?"
Sarah felt a irrational burst of courage run through her. Harry was here and he was going to rain down retribution on this evil woman. "They were hidden in the wardrobe," she boasted. "I just told him they were gone, so he left the door open when we left for them to just walk out."
The big man looked like he might pass out. "CRUCIO!" bellowed Bellatrix, and Sarah cried out and recoiled against her Godfather, but the spell was not for her. Mane crashed to the floor and began writhing about, yelling incomprehensibly in pain.
"IMBECILE!" raved Bellatrix. "Inbred morons, the lot of you!" She released Mane from the curse, and he lay panting and sweating on the floor. "Be gone from my sight before I tear your eyes out and make you eat them!"
The three men couldn't move fast enough to get away from the enraged woman, but that just left Sirius and Sarah alone with her. Suddenly Sarah didn't feel quite so brave.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the two of them. "See," she said, petulantly. "Stupid. What kind of idiot would walk into his enemy's stronghold? Now you're all just going to die."
Sarah felt her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Maybe you're the one who's going to die," she breathed. Bellatrix flung her arm back to cast a spell, but a voice made her pause.
"Bellatrix?" it said, timidly. "Our Master has a message for you." Bellatrix immediately dropped her arm. Sarah's stomach dropped as Peter Pettigrew walked into the room.
She felt Sirius tense behind her too. "Hello Wormtail," he snarled. Pettigrew glanced shiftily at his old friend, then brought his eyes guiltily back to the floor. One of his arms was transparent and glowing bright blue.
"The Dark Lord has asked for the prisoners to be relocated to Courtroom Ten. Except...except for her." Sarah felt something cold slide down her as her former Godfather indicated her with a nod of the head. Bellatrix, swung back around and glowered at her.
"Her?" she said, curious.
Pettigrew nodded. "He wants to know...if she's the one?"
The one? The one what? Sarah couldn't help the panic rising in her throat. "Fine," snapped Bellatrix. "You take Black, I know how much you two enjoy each other's company."
Pettigrew paled but nodded as Bellatrix waved her wand and blew Sirius and Sarah out of each others' arms, before binding each of their hands together. Sirius made to body slam into Pettigrew, but he blasted him with a curse that knocked him off his feet. Pettigrew stepped backwards into the corridor, wand still pointed at Sirius in his shaking, human hand.
"Nott," he called out, "Miller, Robinson, come and help here." Three burly men came into the room, and were soon hauling the dazed Sirius off the floor. Sarah could only cower on the carpet and watch.
"Be strong," he told her, spitting out blood as they dragged him away. Sarah found she was shaking again. She hoped Sirius and the others would be okay, but it was herself she couldn't help but fear for now.
Not Voldemort, she pleaded silently. Not him.
She went with Bellatrix without a fuss, not seeing any way she could possibly escape and deciding to conserve her energy. It looked like the were going to walk through into another office, but as they crossed the threshold Sarah's vision blurred, and once more they ended up in a completely different department. The sign on the wall read 'Floo Network Authority', and there were decidedly less Quidditch posters on the walls. They must have shifted levels again, but how?
Bellatrix marched her through deserted corridors until they arrived in a large conference room with portraits of former Heads of the Department lining the walls. There was a long, mahogany table sat gleaming in the centre of the room, and on the floor was a rich red carpet. The former Department Heads looked less than happy. Sarah wasn't surprised, as standing by the fireplace with his hands behind his back was none other than Lord Voldemort.
He turned and smiled as Bellatrix flung herself to the floor in a disgusting display of reverence. Sarah just stood there, too frightened to do anything else. "Good evening young lady," said Voldemort, his voice as smooth as glass.
Sarah shifted her feet. "Hi," she said, jaw clenching. He studied her, making her feel very uncomfortable.
"You are," he said thoughtfully. "A long way from home."
A wave of panic crashed inside Sarah. What did he mean? Her mouth got the better of her though before she could think. "Yeah," she snapped, "because you kidnapped me."
Bellatrix leapt to her feet and smacked the back of Sarah's head, but Voldemort just chuckled softly to himself. "What is your name?"
Sarah licked her lips. "Sarah," she said as calmly as she could muster.
"Sarah what?"
She'd been prepared for this. "Jones," she said without a moment's pause.
Voldemort tilted his head. "Try again."
She tried not to let her fear show. "What do you mean, that's my name."
Voldemort began walking slowly towards her and Bellatrix, and she would have stepped back except Bellatrix had a hold of her shoulder. The rope bindings were chafing uncomfortably on her wrists, but she fidgeted at them anyway.
"There is no student by that name registered at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He stopped a few feet in front of her and looked her up and down.
"That's not my fault," she said, aware of Bellatrix's nails scratching her through her clothes. "I was home schooled until this year, I only just started, my records are probably too new."
Voldemort laughed again. "So much spirit," he said, shaking his head. "Just like your brother."
Sarah froze. She then tried to shake it off. "I don't have a brother," she told him flippantly.
"Not in this world, anyway."
She couldn't help it. She just stared at the snake-like man standing before her. How could he know, how could he possibly know?
"I think I'm going to have use of you later," he said pleasantly. "And all this time I thought it was young Harry we wanted." He turned his head to Bellatrix. "Please see that she is kept comfortable. Sarah Potter is now our honoured guest."
xxx
Draco watched Ron jab the elevator button again impatiently. "What's wrong with it?" he said, and poked it again for good measure. Draco frowned at the impassive doors, and looked around the corridors of Level Five. They'd been waiting at least three minutes for a lift to appear – surely that wasn't right.
"Alohomora," he said, prodding the lift doors with the wand he'd taken from the Death Eater. Nothing.
"But why?" wondered Hermione out loud again for the countless time. "Why would they be looking at Dimensional Hotspots, do they know you and Sarah have crossed over?"
"I thought they were after Harry?" said Draco, pocketing the wand and seeing if he could force his fingers in between the soft rubber seal that connected the two sides of the doors.
"And," continued Hermione, "why does the Ministry have a file like that? Are they researching them?"
"Perhaps we can ask them when we wake them all up?" suggested Draco. He started pulling the doors apart; they wouldn't budge to begin with, but then something gave and they parted a few inches. He almost let go in surprise as he suddenly felt water splashing on his fingers.
"What's that noise?" said Ron, startled as the two of them stepped up to Draco's side. Draco didn't answer, instead he just threw all his weight behind the doors and heaved. After another moment's resistance, the two doors slammed all the way to the side. The three students just stood and gawped. Before them stood the empty lift shaft, and down it was cascading a torrent of water that really did not belong there.
"What the..." said Draco, trying to get close enough to look upwards to see where the water was coming from, but there was too much, it was like trying to look up a waterfall and within seconds Draco's face was soaked. He stepped back and swept his damp hair off his face. "Okay...that's not normal is it?"
Ron shook his head slowly, whilst Hermione crossed her arms and scowled. "That shouldn't stop the elevator from working," she grumbled. "It's not electric is it, it's magic."
Draco rubbed the back of his neck and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe there's just not room for a lift in there right now."
"Why...?" said Ron, still shaking his head. "Why if the lift shaft raining?"
Draco puffed out a lungful of air. "Okay," he said. "Let's add that to the list of things to explain later – maybe it's just a problem with the plumbing. Right now we should move to plan B."
"Which is?" asked Hermione.
Draco pointed back the way they'd come. "Stairs."
They weaved their way back through the offices and frozen Ministry employees, checking that their prisoner was still unconscious and tied up in Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. "I think I should have the wand," said Hermione suddenly. She was being quiet, but the sudden noise still made Draco nervous.
"Oh," he said, taking it from his pocket. "Sorry, I didn't really think." He held it out for her. "You can have it if you want."
She looked a little flustered. "It's just Harry said you'd not been taught properly in your world, and I might know-"
Draco held up his hands. "Hermione it's fine."
She bit her lip and took it. "That's funny you know."
He raised his eyebrow at her as they reached the sign he knew he'd spotted earlier. The emergency stairs were to their left. "What's funny?"
"Hearing you say my name."
Draco wasn't sure what to say to that except "Oh." He dreaded to think what their Draco – or Malfoy more like – normally called her. Probably 'Mudblood'. He felt ashamed for reasons that weren't entirely logical, and couldn't think of anything else to say.
The doorway to the stairwell was up ahead, and Draco started to move quicker. He knew they'd probably be walking into a nest of Death Eaters, but even if it meant getting recaptured he had to get back to Sarah.
The door started opening. Before Draco even had a chance to cry out, Hermione had the confiscated wand out and was blasting the door back in on itself. The three students stood breathing heavily, watching as the door swung violently forward again, forced out by the water racing down the steps beyond.
Hermione looked at the two boys. "I thought there was someone behind there?"
"Hello?"
The three of them jumped and Hermione aimed the wand again. "Come out with your hands up!" she instructed.
"I...I don't mean you any harm," came the voice again. Draco had gone very still. Whoever was on the other side was propping open the door a jar, and the water was rushing by, causing quite a racket. But there was something he couldn't place about the voice.
"We'll be the judge of that," said Hermione, earning an enthusiastic thumbs up from Ron.
"Come out with your hands up!" he called out.
Draco was suddenly unsure though. "No, wait," he began, but the door was already opening. A drenched woman was on the other side, her hands obediently up. Her robes were soaked, but her hair was still relatively dry and styled in an elegant knot behind her head. She looked nervous more than anything else, and unsure in her footing against the surging waters which were now spilling out into the corridor, hurrying towards the three students feet.
Draco couldn't seem to breathe. "I heard a group of children had been taken prisoner from the school," said the woman. "I couldn't believe it was really you, I had to come find you, to see for myself."
Hermione and Ron looked a little confused, possibly because the woman had spoken directly to Draco. Probably because she looked like a Death Eater, but the words had been said with such concern.
Almost certainly because Draco looked like he was about to lose all consciousness any second now.
He fumbled to find the wall to his right, and spread his hand out on the cool painted brick to keep himself from falling. He looked at the woman standing in the rapidly expanding pool of water.
"Draco?" she said.
It was all he could do to keep the air flowing in and out of his lungs. The world was tilting horribly, but Draco urged himself to speak, to find the words. To find the courage.
"Mum?" was all he found.
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A/N 29-08-14: I can't give enough thanks to underground-history . co . uk for their help in describing Harry's journey through Down Street underground station. This is a real abandoned tube station, and I have tried to portray it as accurately as possible.
If you enjoyed this chapter please review and let me know! I love to hear from you guys :-) It was another short one, but after this trust me, they will only get bigger and bigger!