Blind

Chapter Three

Harry looked at Hermione curiously. "A plan? A foolproof plan to get our friends back?"

"Well, I never said it was foolproof. In fact, you could hardly call it practical," Hermione replied dryly.

"It's better than anything else we have now," Harry answered. "So come on, what is it?"

"I don't want to fully explain it, just in case it doesn't work out. But I'll tell you step one. We need to find a wizarding family we can both stay with in order to complete phase one," Hermione said uncertainly. "What about the Weasleys? I know Ginny and Ron are at St. Mungo's, but-"

"The only one who had been left was Mr. Weasley and he went blind two days ago. Hagrid told me," Harry said glumly.

Hermione nodded but bit her lip. "The Lovegoods or the Longbottoms?" Harry shook his head. Hermione drew in a breath. "Well, there's really only one more person we can look to," she said hesitantly, watching Harry carefully from the corner of her eye. "Malfoy," she said quietly.

"Mal-WHAT?! No! Hermione, are you nutters?" Harry cried. "What about the Order of the Phoenix? We could stay with them, any of them!"

"Harry, most of them are in St. Mungo's, too! And even the ones who aren't, well, they would never let us out of the house, and we need free reign, Harry, absolute freedom to come and go as we please."

"There has to be someone else," Harry insisted.

"And there could be, but I can't think of anyone. That's why I said I was doubtful this plan would work. We need Malfoy's cooperation," Hermione said.

"Well, he'll never give it, so you may as well give up," Harry said snidely.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, I don't see you having a better plan. Besides, I've come up with a lever to use against him." She smiled. "It's probably a bit evil, yes, but it's the only way."

Harry was interested now. "Evilness? Don't we have enough of that in the world without you turing to the Dark Side?" he joked.

"Oh, Harry, keep quiet. But I figure that we need his cooperation to get into St. Mungo's and help those people, especially Ron. So if we made the offer to help his parents..." Her voice trailed off.

"Help Lucius Malfoy? Are you mad?" Harry cried. "No, it will never work. Hermione, the whole family calls you a-a-well, you know what they think about you! How can you help them?"

"Harry, it's the only way to get to Ron. And when I say get to him, I mean, really get to him. Like go undercover at St. Mungo's."

"You're confusing me."

"Harry, I can explain it later, but we need to find Draco first." Hermione frowned at Harry as he stared amazedly at her. "Harry, don't be stubborn. It's the only way! Now come on! How often am I wrong?" She flashed him a quick smile, grabbed his arm, and pulled. "Now, Harry!"

Hermione took off towards the dungeons, and Harry had no choice, really, but to follow her. He sighed as Hermione called over her shoulder, "It'll be a stroke of luck if we can catch him outside the Slytherin common room, but we need to try it. I want this settled now."

Harry caught up with Hermione and jogged beside her. "This is the opening to the Slytherin common room. That wall right there." They skidded to a halt outside it.

"That doesn't help us, though. We need him out here!" Hermione said desperately. She reached up and pounded on the wall.

"Hermione!" Harry cried in shock. "What are you do-"

But he was cut off by a drawling voice. "What the hell are you two doing down here? Gryffindors don't belong here, particularly Potty and the Mudblood, though I suppose Gryffindor has more than its share of filth." Harry and Hermione spun around to see Draco Malfoy sauntering their way.

"Just the, er, man we were looking for," Hermione said, forcing herself to sound nice and happy.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What did you just say?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione in a look that said "Well, this is your brilliant idea...have fun." Hermione merely nodded.

"Yes, Malf-I mean, Draco. Harry and I are in need of some assistance, and you are the best person for the job. Of course, not that we expect you to volunteer anything. We're willing to pay you in time."

Draco looked rather unconvinced. "I don't think either of you could pay me in anything worthwhile. After all, compared to what my father has-"

"But we're going to help you get your father and mother back!" Hermione suddenly cried out. Draco gave her a piercing look. Hermione realized she had best explain herself. "Y-you see, Draco, Harry and I want to help the victims who were hurt by the Ministry's curse. Compared to other things we've done, it should be simple." She let out a small laugh, but apparently, Draco saw nothing funny in it. She immediately became serious again. "I have a plan for how we'll do it, of course, but we first need to find a wizarding family to stay with, so we can keep on top of what's happening in the wizarding world, you see."

"And you want to stay with me?" Draco asked. He threw back his head and laughed. "Yeah, right, you want to stay at my manor so that you can help my parents? Highly unlikely, Granger. You just want to use me as a way to get to your precious King Weasley."

Hermione didn't say anything for a bit. Then she shook her head. "We do want to help Ron, yes, but we'll help your parents. We can help Crabbe and Goyle...oh! We can get Pansy back! How's that?" she asked eagerly.

"I don't care about Parkinson," Draco said stiffly.

"Oh, I thought there was something...well, never mind about her then. But you do want your parents back? I would think your big house would get lonely without them...." Hermione let her voice trail off somberly.

Draco's face showed a hint of sadness but he hid it with fury. "No!"

Hermione sighed. "I have a full plan worked out, Draco. It'll work, too, but only with your cooperation, you see. Draco, please."

Harry stepped forward. "Forget it, Hermione. He won't do it. Don't resort to begging with this monster. He just prefers his parents stay locked up in St. Mungo's. Well, I guess it won't be much different for his dad. That man's used to being locked up. But a pity, really. He gets out in the world, then gets locked up again, and his son won't come to his aid. And what about his mum? The woman's probably never been cooped up in some room, and she probably just wants back in her house, but her son won't get her out either. I guess we can see what kind of son Malfoy is-"

"SHUT UP!" Draco roared. His hand went for his wand, but Harry was equally as quick.

"No, no, no, we can't be fighting each other!" Hermione said. "We have to work together!"

Draco lowered his wand, which he had pointed at Harry's chest. "You swear you'll get my parents out of there?" he sneered, not ready to be fully cooperative.

"I promise," Hermione said dutifully. "This plan will work. I'm not wrong often, Malfoy, and I know I'm not wrong here."

"Fine," Draco snapped, placing his wand back in his robes. "You can stay at Malfoy Manor. But you are not to go snooping in my father's business-wait a minute. How do I know you're not Ministry spies?"

"Draco, we're not. We'll leave your father alone in that sense," Hermione said reassuringly. "If you find we're spies, well, you can use an Unforgiveable Curse on us, all right?" Harry looked at her in alarm, but she just shrugged.

"Fine," Draco snapped again. "But this doesn't mean I'm your friend."

"Trust me, we neither expected nor wanted that," Harry said sincerely.

"Professor Snape says we're to be taking the Knight Bus home," Draco, ignoring Harry's remark, sniffed, obviously displeased with such modest means of transportation. "You will explain everything to me then." With that, he turned toward the wall then back at Harry and Hermione. "Leave! The last thing we need is for filth like you to know the Slytherin password."

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other, then took off sprinting for Gryffindor Tower.

Harry watched Hermione as they jogged up the staircase. "You know," he said, "this ought to be quite, er, interesting."

*************

"Oh, that's the perfect spot! There, in the very back! See it, Harry? Yes, that's it! Throw your trunks there!" Hermione said.

Draco glanced haughtily at the variety of wizards and witches seated in the large armchairs throughout the Knight Bus. Harry and Hermione had dragged him to the very top level and now to the very back of the bus. They had just shaken one of the workers, a young man, his face rather pimply, by the name of Shunpike. Draco thought he was a rather pathetic excuse for a wizard. Well, he is spending his life on this bus, Draco reminded himself. Very pathetic indeed.

Hermione settled herself in a squashy yellow chair and turned to Harry and Draco expectantly. "Well, are you ready?" she asked quietly, withdrawing a rolled up newspaper from her large purse. They both leaned nearer her.

Hermione unrolled the paper, which turned out to be a copy of The Daily Prophet. She pointed to an article on the bottom of the front page. A small picture of a witch with short reddish-blonde hair and turquoise glasses accompanied the story. Harry examined the headline. St. Mungo's new institution faces work shortages.

"Interesting," Harry murmured, feeling that perhaps he knew where Hermione was headed with this.

"You see, the St. Mungo's didn't have the room for all the blind people coming in, so they reopened a building that had at once been St. Mungo's before they moved to their current location. They don't have Healers there, but what they call Angels, which are like nurses. The only problem is that few are willing to do it. They're too afraid of becoming the next victims of this epidemic. But this is our chance, don't you see? They'll be quick to hire anybody they can get to do the job! So, with the aid of an Aging Potion, we can secure a post at the hospital!" Hermione flushed with excitement.

"Well, which one of you is it going to be? I'm certainly not working," Draco drawled.

"I'm not finished," Hermione said sternly. "And you will be working, if you want your parents back. But I think I should take the St. Mungo's post. No one will recognize me. Harry, even with the Aging Potion, everyone will know who you are. And Draco, if we gave you the potion, you'd look just like your father, which would be a giveaway. No, you two would be better off putting your efforts toward the-" Hermione paused and looked around. "-the Minstry of Magic," she whispered.

"How?" Harry asked.

"Well, you both will have influence, won't you? You're both fairly known there. You can secure a post as an assistant of some sort, any job that will get you access to all parts of the Ministry, not just the Committee on Experimental Charms, though that's a very important one."

"This seems rather risky," Harry said uncertainly, but he broke into a grin. "But it's brilliant and I say we go for it!"

"Wait, say we get these posts. How will that help my family? It's not like we'll find the cure," Draco said skeptically.

"The thing is, I think the Ministry is hiding something, and with enough information, we can take care of that, and that will get your parents out of St. Mungo's," Hermione insisted.

Draco merely glowered at Hermione, but was prevented from saying anything as he was thrown from his seat as the bus jumped to some new destination and stopped. Stan Shunpike was headed their way. "Yo' stop, 'Arry!" he said cheerily.

"Thank you, Stan," Harry said, thrusting some money into his hand. "Come on, I assume we're at Malfoy Manor now."

The three ambled off the bus under the weight of their luggage. It was quite obvious that Draco was not used to such labor, because he clumsily tugged at his trunks. Once they were out, the Knight Bus disappeared and Harry looked in front of him.

"Wow, you might call this a manor, but it looks like a chateau to me," Hermione murmured.

"Y-you can see it?" Draco asked uncertainly.

"Why, yes," Hermione replied, still in awe. "How could I not? Look at the size."

The house was set back on a large hill. It loomed into the darkening sky. It had four towers, one to the east, the west, the north, and the south. It was made of dark, grey stone, and its gothic appearance had hints of being centuries old. Ivy was creeping along the huge wall surrounding the land. And in front of them, blocking their entrance, was a huge silver gate, with an emblem on it. It had an M with two snakes creeping on the letter's legs on it, obviously the Malfoy family crest.

"Well, come on," Draco said impatiently. He took out his wand and tapped the gate. The wand sent out some green and silver sparks and the gate slowly opened. They grabbed their trunks and dragged them to the front porch. Draco reached for one of the silver knockers, which was shaped like a snake's head. Harry and Hermione could hear the booming sound of the knocker echoing inside. They looked at each other and gulped.

The large door opened slowly and a small green head peered up at them. It was a house elf. "Young Master Malfoy!" it squeaked. It then looked over at Harry and Hermione. "Oh, Young Master has brought some friends home!"

"These aren't my friends," Draco said harshly. "And you would do well to slam your fingers in a door for making such an absurd assumption. But first, get some of those other low-down elves and put our trunks away." The house elf nodded and scurried off.

"You punish your house elf for making a mistake like that?" Hermione asked hotly.

"It's not my house elf. It's my father's. He tends to get the dumber ones. And it's my house, I'll do things my way. Any objections and you can forget this," Draco replied. "Now, come on, I'll show you where your rooms will be."

He led them through dark corridors covered in portraits of wizards and witches, each scowling down and hurling insults at Harry and Hermione. They halted outside two doors and Draco held up his hand. "Let me make sure these are useable. Wait here."

A large portrait hung on the strip of wall separating the two doors. It contained a small boy with white-blond hair. He couldn't have been more than seven years old. A man of about forty-five was standing next to him, the same sleek hair on his head.

"That could be a young Draco," Harry said, amused at the boy in his black robes with silver lining that matched the man's robes. "And that looks like an older version of Lucius."

"Look, Father, look at that!" the boy squeaked, dropping to his knees and pointing at Harry and Hermione. "It's a half-blood and a filthy Mudblood! But they're in our house! Are you going to torture them, are you, Father? Can I watch? Can I have a go?"

The man in the painting reached down and pulled his son up by the neck of his robes. "Get up, boy. You really are worthless, though I guess it's a relief you can finally spot a Mudblood when you look at one. However, I could do it by the age of three!"

Hermione nudged Harry and pointed to a small golden plaque under the picture. It said Ahab Malfoy and his son, Lucius. "Lucius as a boy?" Harry murmured, amused at the thought of Lucius Malfoy being so small and vulnerable at one point in his life.

"Well, it's all clear in this room," Draco said, sliding out of one of the chambers. He reached for the doorknob of the other door, but stopped as the sound of a knocker banging on a door boomed throughout the manor. "Who could that be?" he asked wonderingly.

Another small house elf came scurrying. "I-i-it's her, sir!"

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, perplexed, but Draco seemed to understand. They could hear hurried footsteps coming their way. "Who is that?" Hermione asked.

"Shut up," Draco hissed. He looked around hurriedly, then threw the door of the room he had just examined open. "Get in here and don't make a sound!" He slammed the door shut behind them.

Harry pressed his ear to the door while Hermione crouched in the corner.

"Ah, my dearest nephew," a cold woman's voice said from the other side of the door. Hermione's eyes widened and she crept over to Harry, who had bristled at the sound of that voice. His hand quickly withdrew his wand from his robes, but Hermione grabbed his wrist.

"No, Harry, please calm down," she murmured. "I know it's hard, I do, but you musn't do anything."

The voice belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, the one responsible for the death of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Harry had sworn revenge on her, but the opportunity had never come. But he could jump out with a curse now. She wasn't expecting anything...but Hermione's grip became tighter, and he knew that he couldn't do it, not yet anyway.

Bellatrix Lestrange was smiling unpleasantly at her nephew. You would never know that he's part Black. He looks like the weak little Malfoy he was brought up to be, she thought snidely. He had the pale, pointed face and the white-blond hair of a Malfoy, while the Blacks sported thick, dark brown hair, with the exception of Narcissa. Even his grey eyes could not pass for those of the Blacks'.

Draco glowered at his aunt. There had always been this tension between her and his parents, and he was never certain why it was there, but he wasn't about to change that. "Why don't we go in the drawing room?" he suggested coldly. "And then you can tell me why you have chosen to disgrace me with your presence."

Bellatrix frowned as she fell into step behind him. "You know, that's no way to talk to your auntie."

Draco shrugged as they entered the drawing room. He pointed to an armchair. "Sit and explain."

Bellatrix withdrew a cigarette in a holder from her purse. She took out her wand to light it.

"My parents do not allow smoking in Malfoy Manor," Draco said sternly.

She merely looked at him, but soon a jet of water sprayed from the ceiling, causing the cigarette to become a soggy mess. She flicked it onto the floor and then smiled at her nephew. "Well, I came here," she started, pretending that the last ten seconds hadn't happened," in order to make certain you were okay, your parents in St. Mungo's and all. And as Narcissa is my sister, I figured she would want me to stay here, look after the house, and so I won't be lonely with Rodolphus in the hospital with this new blindness thing."

"I'm an adult, and the business of these Estates is in my hands and I don't need any supervision," Draco said.

"You listen to me," Bellatrix snarled, taking out her wand and pointing it at Draco's chest. "I'm going to be in and out of here on a matter of the Dark Lord's business. I'm not asking you to stay here. I'm demanding that I'll stay here. You have no choice in the matter, and I don't care if your father is dead and you own the whole damn place. Any opposition from you, and I'll kill you."

Draco swallowed, but continued to glare at his aunt. What other choice did he really have? But he didn't have to look intimidated by her. "Fine, you have my permission to stay here," Draco replied.

Harry and Hermione had cracked open the door and crept to the landing of the giant staircase. They could hear everything. Hermione looked fearfully at Harry. "Oh, no, this won't help at all," she murmured.