Replay

Replay

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Chapter Thirty-Four

There is Only Power

Teddy tried to remember to breathe as he, Nate and Julian walked uncertainly through the damp-smelling corridor under the Malfoys' drawing room, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He was aware of Zabini's footsteps behind them. You'd think there would be something we could do! he thought desperately. We've got him outnumbered five-to-one. On the other hand, he wasn't sure how quick Crabbe or Goyle were with their wands and he, Nate and Julian were unarmed. Perhaps if he could get his hand on a wand... Harry and Ginny had started teaching them the rudiments of duelling during the winter term and Teddy had done rather well, even though he'd initially been reluctant to attack Ginny. When they'd started duelling with classmates he was less restrained, and both Harry and Ginny had rewarded him with smiles of approval. To the surprise of everyone, Donna had been the best in the class at duelling, while Teddy and Nate came next and were fairly evenly matched. Enika performed admirably but she was always reluctant to attack Teddy; she definitely lacked Donna's "killer instinct", as Harry called it.

Teddy grimaced as he continued to step forward, wishing Donna were with them and then amending this thought, because he wouldn't have wished this on anyone if he had a choice; he wondered now whether he and Nate would ever see Donna again, or Enika, or his mum or his sisters... or his dad. Which made him think, What would Harry do?

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment at Zabini, who had acquired a huge old leather-bound book from somewhere. What would Harry do? Even after being taught Defence Against the Dark Arts by Harry Potter for almost three years he had no idea what The Boy Who Lived would do in a situation like this. He also wasn't convinced that Harry had ever had to contend with a wizard quite as ruthless as Zabini. He glanced to his left and right, at Crabbe and Goyle, hoping that they were better with their wands than their slow speech would suggest.

They finally stopped at a door that didn't appear any different from the many doors they'd already passed. Holding the huge old book in one hand and his wand in the other, Zabini pointed his wand at Goyle, ordering him to open it and ordering Crabbe to lead the boys through the door. Zabini was the last to enter the dark chamber, flicking his wand as he did so. Teddy had felt a draft whirling around him the moment he'd stepped through the ancient-looking, metal-bound wooden door, and as serpentine magical torches sprang to life on the damp, roughly-carved walls, he saw that this was because of the sheer size of the chamber.

The only sounds in the huge underground cavern, which seemed to have been hewn from the solid rock a very long time ago, were their echoing footsteps and the hissing of the water on the walls closest to the torches as the magical fires turned the moisture to steam. Teddy was glad that the torches existed; if Goyle had walked forward with the boys three more steps they all would have plummeted down to the bottom of the cavern, which was lost in darkness. When they'd entered the chamber some pebbles had become dislodged from the rocky ledge on which they stood and Teddy watched them fall over the edge, waiting for the sound that would tell him that they'd reached the bottom.

Silence.

The ledge on which they stood was exactly big enough for two people to walk abreast; it clung to the cavern in a steep spiral and Teddy could see where the path continued one level below, but if it went farther down that was also lost in darkness.

"Walk, idiots!" Zabini snarled at Crabbe and Goyle."Take the brats down. You go first, Crabbe, and you go behind, Goyle."

They obeyed wordlessly, marching in a single file down the spiralling ledge, more torches springing to life on the curving wall above their heads as they descended, accompanied by more hissing from evaporating liquid coating the walls; it was as though they were descending into the bowels of the earth on the back of an enormous cobra, coiled against the perimeter of its basket. If Teddy closed his eyes for a second the hissing sounded convincingly serpent-like. But he didn't want to shut his eyes for more than a split second and risk coming too close to the edge of the precarious path they were on; he peeked over his shoulder for a moment to see whether Goyle might be close enough to Zabini to push him over the edge, but Zabini was keeping his distance from the rest of them, walking behind, his wand out and ready for anything, even as he continued to grasp the old book under his left arm. How on earth are they going to save us? he wondered. Zabini seemed far too in-control for that to be possible.

Teddy wasn't certain how long they'd been descending when something finally hove into view in the middle of the large open area in the centre of the chamber; it appeared to be an island, if the emptiness between it and the path could be considered a small sea. As they drew closer to it, continuing on the path, Teddy saw that it held nothing but a long table that looked disconcertingly like an altar, and that there was precious little space to walk or stand around this table. There also didn't appear to be any sort of bridge connecting the path to the altar, and Teddy hated to think what would happen if someone tried to leap across the distance and miscalculated.

When they had drawn level with the rocky platform, Teddy could see that it was not thrusting up from the floor of the cavern (wherever that was) but that it was floating in space somehow. He looked up at Zabini, standing a good eight feet back from Goyle, searching for some clue in his face as to what he intended, something that could tell him how the five of them--two borderline but well-intentioned idiots and three unarmed children--could overpower him.

He looked at Goyle, then at the platform, and mouthed the words, What now?

"Pay attention there!" Zabini barked at them. He waved his wand at Julian and Nate and there was a sudden sucking noise; they had been pulled to the wall, where they stood spread-eagled, pinned there by Zabini's spell. "You two will have your turn, don't worry," he said, his mouth twisting with amusement, although no one shared it. Turning to Crabbe and Goyle, he pointed at their shoes with his wand, evidently putting a non-verbal spell on them, before saying, "Put Potter's bastard on the altar."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other uncertainly, as though they were also at a loss for how they were going to rescue Teddy. They gazed down at him now, their faces helpless and apologetic; Teddy glanced back and forth between the two of them, his stomach in knots. It wasn't going to work. It didn't matter that Crabbe and Goyle were on their side; they were equally helpless before Zabini.

The two hulking wizards each picked up one of Teddy's arms, so that he was suspended between them; Teddy's mouth immediately leapt into his throat when, in unison, they stepped off the edge of the walkway and into the space between the path and the floating platform. To Teddy's surprise, they didn't all plummet to their deaths (or to their eternal boredom, falling endlessly down what seemed to be a bottomless chasm). Instead, Crabbe's and Goyle's footsteps were slightly buoyed on the empty air, as though they were each balloon-shod. Teddy tried to reach down with his own feet, to see whether he could feel the same spongy surface on which they were walking, but there was nothing but air beneath his shoes, and he realised that the spell Zabini had put on their feet was responsible. Only his two reluctant assistants were safe from falling; if they released him he would immediately drop.

When they'd reached the platform and were walking on its rocky surface, Crabbe and Goyle loosened their grip on his arms, which had been quite painful, but Teddy didn't mind too much as it had meant his not dying. Yet. When they'd eased up on the pressure on his arms he looked up at each of them and whispered, "Thanks."

Goyle grimaced. "Sorry, kid," he said softly. "Don't know what else we can do. Zabini's--well, he's a lot more--and we're just--"

Teddy nodded. "It's not your fault." He tried to think more about the position they were in than his own situation, because if he thought about what was about to happen to him he'd run the risk of wetting himself from fear, and somehow he didn't want to give Zabini that satisfaction. Instead he thought about how it would feel to try to rescue someone and fail. Of course, that was what had happened with Nate and Julian, but he tried not to focus on that, either...

"So, now you know why you are here, and that Draco Malfoy was with your mother," he said to Nate and Julian in particular, "not Percy Weasley. And you know that it was because Malfoy was delusional enough to think that I was planning to make him the next great Dark Lord, even though I never was," Zabini said to them all in his smooth, oddly persuasive voice, the words ringing against the hard stone of the chamber. Teddy found it very hard not to listen to him, not to want to listen to him, to want to hear what he had to say next. "I knew that this house was where the book was likely to be that held the secret to my future success," he added, nodding at the ancient tome he'd been carrying. "I wasn't wrong, obviously, but the trick was going to be gaining access to it. Now, I could simply have overpowered Draco's mother, killing her and then ransacking this place, seeking for what I wanted. However, I knew that it would be far better to have help, not to mention a convenient patsy in Draco.

"As you guessed, I wasn't particularly fussed when you were arrested by the Ministry," he went on, speaking to Crabbe and Goyle now, "as I had told you to tell anyone who asked that the plan was to make your old friend Malfoy a great Dark Wizard. I admit that I didn't count on Weasley's old girlfriend trying to martyr herself, but it's good to have you back, Crabbe and Goyle. Especially as you did not tell the Ministry that Malfoy was the one behind it all and thus need to be punished." Crabbe and Goyle were staring at Zabini with mouths open, making them appear, if possible, even dimmer than usual. Zabini's laugh was deep and resonant, filling the chamber. "Did you think I bought that nonsense about our Miss Clearwater helping you to escape so that she could see her widdle boys one last time before their deaths?" he said, distorting his mouth into a pout and using a rather annoying, babyish voice that reminded Teddy of the way Harry had said Bellatrix Lestrange used to taunt him and Uncle Neville.

Zabini waved his wand again, pointing once more at Crabbe's and Goyle's feet; they clearly felt the effect immediately, bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet--or trying to, but finding that the buoyancy had left them. Teddy knew that the spell had been removed that had allowed them to walk across the empty air; if they stepped off the rocky platform now they would simply fall and fall, interminably.

All three of them were trapped.

Zabini laughed again, and this time Teddy managed to shake himself, feeling as though he had come out of a strange waking-sleep; the world was clearer somehow, sharper, even though he had on the same glasses and hadn't even bothered to clean them in some time. He no longer felt mesmerised by Zabini, compelled to hang on his every word. Instead he saw Zabini for what he was: a madman. As the maniacal laughter continued, Teddy could only stare at him incredulously. Had Zabini watched Muggle films, especially films about comic-book heroes and the villains they fought?

"Are you for real?" Teddy found himself saying before he could stop the words coming out of his mouth.

Zabini's laughter stopped abruptly; in a split second he had raised his wand and pointed it at Teddy, whose body was completely and utterly consumed by pain more quickly than he could speak or think, pulling a scream from his throat that he never knew was in him. He threw off Crabbe's and Goyle's hands, writhing, falling backward toward the stone table, against which he struck his head. The pain from that was nothing, however, compared to the sensation of every cell in his body catching fire and being stabbed with a very sharp knife simultaneously. Teddy had never imagined that he could want death, but he wanted death now, he wanted anything now other than this unbelievable agony...

When it abruptly stopped the jolt was very nearly as painful as when it had begun. Teddy lay on the platform, panting, staring up into the darkness above him, swallowing to ease his raw throat, not wanting to sit up and see Nate and Julian; he'd never felt so ashamed in all his life. They'd witnessed him losing control like that, even though they didn't know that he had wished for death to end his suffering. For them to know that would be even worse.

"Sit up," Zabini ordered him, and suddenly Teddy found himself doing so, as if pulled by an invisible string. When he was in a sitting position he met Zabini's eyes finally, realising that the man had used another spell to manipulate his position. He also saw that Crabbe and Goyle had been thrown to the edges of the platform--by him?--and looked terrified, slowly inching their way back onto it, lying on their stomachs and pulling themselves forward, sweat running down their faces.

"I think, young Potter, that you'll find that I am very, very real," Zabini snarled at him, his dark eyes maniacally focussed and cruel. "You'll very likely find me to be particularly real when I take your magic from you and add your power to my own."

Teddy took a deep shuddering breath and said, "My name isn't Potter. It's Harrison. And I think you're the most ridiculous person I've ever met."

Zabini's face darkened with anger and he pointed his wand at Teddy again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Weatherby!"

Percy stopped his pacing; he'd been trying once more, unsuccessfully, to leave the house, but every time he tried to even step toward the kitchen door he suddenly felt the urge to scrub the sink, or polish the floor, or black the stove, or reorganize the silver. Each time he managed to stop in disgust, but this meant that there were myriad unfinished kitchen tasks piled around him and still he could not leave the Malfoy house, to his utter frustration.

Pansy entered the room slowly, dragging Draco Malfoy, holding him under his arms and allowing his heels to create black trails on the half-polished floor.

"Betray... Zabini... traitor..." Malfoy mumbled as Pansy struggled to drag him to a chair. Percy ran to help her, but Malfoy's body didn't want to stay in a sitting position and he kept falling to one side or the other. Finally Percy tucked the chair under the kitchen table and put Malfoy's head down on the scrubbed wooden surface, turned to one side so that he could breathe. Pansy looked desperate about his condition and Percy wondered why she hadn't simply levitated his body until he remembered that he had her wand and she possessed only a useless wooden spoon handle.

"What happened?" he asked her, peering at Malfoy's disoriented face.

"I found him in the drawing room. He'd been knocked out and was lying in a heap on the floor!" Pansy whined, rounding on Draco Malfoy and putting her arms around his shoulders. Percy watched her for a long moment before making a decision. "Don't just stand there, Weatherby! Do something!" she barked half-heartedly, still with a whine in her voice.

Percy sighed. "Please stop calling me that. I--I haven't been completely honest with you. I know that I'm not a Muggle called Weatherby. I know that I'm Percy Weasley and I know what Zabini and Draco Malfoy were up to. It doesn't surprise me that Zabini turned on Malfoy; I wouldn't have trusted him for a minute. I think he used Malfoy--er, Draco, to get what he wanted. But I can't help you unless the obedience charm on me is lifted. I can't leave the house at all. If I help you to revive Draco he needs to take the spell off me after that. And then we'll see about rescuing the children and convincing the Ministry to show leniency to the pair of you for helping them to catch Zabini."

Pansy straightened up and stared at him. "What are you talking about? What children? And how long have you been pretending? You let me--" she started to say before stopping and turning deep red. Swallowing, she looked down at Draco and said, "All right, whatever you say, just help me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him again..."

He could see the genuine affection in her expression as she regarded the helpless Draco and he nodded at her, running around the kitchen to fetch various ingredients that he knew would result in a revivifying potion. He put a small cauldron on the cooker and lit the fire under it, adding the ingredients a little at a time, very carefully, filling her in on the kidnapping of the children as he did so, as she had evidently been kept in the dark about that.

"Jess call me 'Daddy'..." Draco said at one point when she confessed that she'd known that Draco had been pretending to be Nate's father. He nodded and decided not to emphasise the part about Draco sleeping with Penelope, as he needed her to continue to feel charitably toward Draco (he didn't want to dwell on that for the same reason, so that he could continue to feel like helping Draco). He also didn't tell her that he was in possession of her wand. When the potion was ready she helped him to prop up Draco's head, giving him a small taste of the concoction from a teacup. Draco grimaced and clamped his mouth shut, his eyes squeezed into slits.

"What that?" he mumbled. Pansy tried to coax him to drink a little more, but after only a drop or two had passed his lips he sat up significantly straighter and managed to open his eyes. "Tryin' poison me?" he slurred suspiciously, his eyes moving back and forth slowly between Percy and Pansy. Percy wasn't certain whether it was the potion or the urge to avoid having more of it that was reviving Draco Malfoy.

"Would you rather have some tea?" Percy offered; his head in his hands, Draco managed to nod. While the kettle came to a boil, Draco had progressed to the point where he was able to hold his head up unassisted; he peered into the cup of potion and shuddered.

"No drinking any more," he said, pushing it away.

"No, no," Pansy agreed, tossing the cup into the sink so that it shattered and got gooey greenish-brown potion all over the sink's interior. Percy winced. "Of course you don't need to drink that, Draco, dear. You're awake now. How do you feel? How's your head? Can you tell us what happened?"

Draco explained, haltingly, that Zabini had never been planning for Draco to be the next great Dark Lord. He wanted all of the power for himself. He'd just been using Draco, and his mother. Percy noticed that Draco didn't mention the kidnapping of children nor the theft of their power.

"Disarmed me," Draco said as Percy poured hot water into the teapot. "Probably kill me when he has a free moment."

"Or just finish the job of letting you take the blame for it all at the Ministry," Percy said grimly, taking a seat across the table from him while waiting for the tea to steep. "But I don't think that that has to happen. I can go to get help, and you can recover properly at St Mungo's and then give evidence against Zabini. Just take the obedience spell off me, so I can leave the house."

Draco's eyes were coming into focus now; he stared at Percy, as though seeing him for the first time. "Weatherby? What the hell?"

Percy grimaced. "I've known for quite some time that I'm Percy Weasley. I also know that you've been impersonating me, but the Ministry will probably overlook that if you help them to catch Zabini. Do that and they'll probably let everything else pass, even the escape from Azkaban, as that wasn't your idea..."

Draco simply continued to stare. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Bloody hell!" and slapped himself on the brow. "How long've you known?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't even remember how long now. Listen, are you going to take the spell off me or not? We need to get Aurors here to sort out Zabini..."

Pansy glanced nervously at Draco. "Well... I don't think that's possible. For one of us to take the spell off you, I mean. I think I remember Draco telling me that Blaise is the one who put it on you, so either he needs to take it off you voluntarily, or..."

"...if he dies, it'll die with him," Draco said listlessly. Pansy was grim and tight-lipped; Percy felt as though he'd been stabbed with an icicle. Trapped. He'd be trapped here forever if Zabini somehow got away or if he didn't take the spell off him...

"Help... help me, please..."

Percy's head whipped around. "Who's that? Do you think one of the kids got away from him?" He ran for the door, fumbling in his pocket for Pansy's wand but reluctant to take it out in her presence. Pansy started to follow him, but when Draco attempted to stand his legs folded under him and he fell to the floor in a limp heap, causing Pansy to round on him, crying out in concern. Percy felt both irritated with them and glad that he might be on his own and able to use the wand without their witnessing it.

"Pansy, you stay and take care of Draco. I'll find out who was calling for help."

"But you're unarmed!" Pansy exclaimed. "You might know that you're not a Muggle, but you might as well be one without a wand!"

He didn't feel like correcting her about his being armed, so he grabbed a heavy cast-iron pan hanging from a rack next to the cooker and brandished it as if it were a tennis racket. "It may not be a wand, but you can't say I'm not armed now. Take care of him," he added, nodding at where Draco lay crumpled on the floor yet, scrabbling impotently for the table to pull himself up.

He ran into the corridor, uncertain about where the voice had come from. Was it the drawing room? No, Pansy had retrieved Draco from the drawing room; she'd have seen another person in there. As he drew closer to the dining room he heard the faint cry again and he put his left hand on the knob, iron pan in his right hand, ready for whatever he might find.

"Penny!" he cried as soon as he had swung open the door, dropping the pan onto the table as he ran to where she was sitting, bound to her chair with magical ropes. He took out Pansy's wand and removed the ropes, then pulled her into his arms. She recoiled, however, and looked at him strangely.

"What? Why are you--? Draco, I know it's you, that you're still impersonating Percy. You can stop pretending..."

"No, Penny! It really is me!" he said desperately, grasping her arms and casting about for how to convince her. "Draco Malfoy is in the kitchen with Pansy Parkinson; Zabini disarmed him and knocked him out and Draco knows that he was just a pawn in Zabini's plans all along. So was I; they found me in Gibraltar and brought me back here so that I could provide them with hair to put into Polyjuice Potion, in order for Malfoy to impersonate me and gain the trust of my sister and brothers and parents and you and the kids. It was all so that Zabini could steal the children's power..."

She nodded, tears in her eyes. "Yes, I know, that's why I'm here. To try to do something about the children. I got your owl." She slid her left arm around his neck and lightly touched his unshaven cheek with her right hand. "It is you, isn't it?" she whispered in wonder.

Percy could contain himself no longer; he gazed at her only a second longer before pulling her to him and kissing her at last, holding her as tightly as he dared, feeling her thin frame tremble in his arms as she returned the kiss and entwined her arms around him. He ran his lips down her jaw and neck, murmuring, "I've missed you so much, Penny, so much..."

She sobbed into his neck, finally managing to say, "It never... it never felt right being with anyone else... And then when you came back, it didn't feel right being with you, either, but that wasn't really you..."

"No, it wasn't. This is me," he whispered, bringing his mouth to hers again, caressing her back and relishing the solid reality of her. She continued to cry as she kissed him, holding his face now with both hands, then pulling back for a moment to gaze at him with wonder in her eyes.

"I should have known. I should have known it wasn't you. I'm so sorry, Percy... I should have known..."

He pulled her to him again, putting his cheek on her hair. "Don't fret over that, Penny. Why would you have thought it was anyone but me? Don't blame yourself. It's over..."

"But--but if I'd worked out that it wasn't you, he couldn't have taken the children..."

He snorted. "No, it just would have been more difficult for him to take them. And if you should have worked it out then shouldn't my own parents have known too? Or my brothers or sister? Did Malfoy ever come into contact with Hermione Granger? Surely she should have noticed it wasn't me. Don't be so hard on yourself, Penny. Of course you all thought it was me. What else were you to think?" he said, smiling at her and cradling her face in his hands.

"I--I have something to tell you, though," she said haltingly. "I have another son. Julian. He's--he's--"

"Snape's," Percy finished for her, nodding. She reddened and looked down.

"Yes," she said to the floor. "I--I'm not sure whether I can explain why--why--"

"I overheard Malfoy telling Pansy about it. He was, erm, convincing her that the idea of touching you after you'd been with Snape was horrifying to him..." he said quickly, feeling awkward. "Although, I have wondered..." He couldn't help it; he was as perplexed as Malfoy. "I mean--Snape?"

She lifted her face again and he could see the old defiance behind her eyes. "Yes, Severus Snape. Because--because he reminded me a bit of you, Percy. Oh, not your looks," she said hastily, because his eyebrows had knit together in confusion. "I mean--you were both spies during the war. You let a lot of people think you were horrid in order to keep your cover. You risked a lot--you risked everything, without thinking of the cost." She sighed and leaned her cheek on his chest. "I know it sounds stupid, but what he did reminded me of you. I think that's why--I did something I hadn't done since the last time I'd been with you..."

He nodded miserably. "You slept with him. I understand how babies are made..."

"No. I mean, yes, but--no. I hadn't exactly been a nun between the time you'd disappeared and when I started seeing Severus. Not after I'd got over the initial shock and learned that you'd disappeared without a trace. I was still waiting for you then, and even for a while afterward, sure that the Ministry had to be mistaken, that the Order had to have got the wrong end of the stick..." She sniffed. "But then more and more time passed, and you didn't come back, and Harry had defeated him, You-Know-Who, and he was really gone for good... And I had to accept the fact that you were, too. Gone for good. I had to get on with my life."

"Oh," Percy said, feeling stupid and also feeling quite jealous, suddenly, of the other men who'd been with her. "Then--then what did you do that you hadn't done since the last time you'd been with me?"

"I purposefully left off using contraceptives," she admitted. "You didn't think my sons were accidents, did you? I am a witch, Percy. I know what I'm doing. I didn't know what was going to happen during the war; I wanted a bit of you to keep for myself. I didn't know yet about what you doing, either. And with Severus... I had wanted another baby for a little while, a little brother or sister for Nate, but no one seemed right. Then I started seeing Severus and he reminded me of you in so many ways, and he wasn't a Muggle, so I wouldn't need to explain why our child started exhibiting certain talents when he or she got older..." She sighed again. "I know it was terribly selfish of me. Both times. And I didn't consider at all that Severus would want to marry me, nor what it would be like for him to have a child he wasn't raising himself, most of the time, a child he could only see occasionally."

Percy swallowed. "He proposed to you?"

Her mouth twisted. "Of course he did. Another thing that reminded me of you. He's a bit old-fashioned that way, is Severus. But I turned him down. My intention was never to get a husband, if it wasn't you. I just wanted another baby." She gazed up at him earnestly. "You're the only man I ever considered marrying. Being an old maid never scared me." She looked grimly at the door. "But Zabini frightens me. He's so--heartless. It's as if he has no heart in him at all. He uses people and throws them away afterward. Look at poor Narcissa Malfoy over there," she added, pointing to the corner where the blonde woman was leaning as if she were an up-ended broom, her hair over her face. "She was sleeping with him, she agreed to let him use her house, she was completely his partner in crime, but does he care? He'll probably kill her when he gets the chance."

Percy nodded. "That's what Draco said about himself. Said that Zabini'll probably kill him when he has a spare moment." He turned again to Narcissa. "He really doesn't care. You're right."

"I think--I think I knew that even before I agreed to come here. I knew--I knew there was a very good chance that he would kill me, too." She gazed intently at him. "I know that I just got you back, but you have to understand... I really am prepared to die for my children. And now that Zabini's taken my wand, I'm defenceless...."

Percy took a deep breath in through his nose. "I'm not letting anyone kill my son without a fight, and if that means I get killed too, so be it." He sighed, looking around. "I wish there were any chance at all that we could succeed, but I don't see how. It's just you and me and Draco and Pansy, and they'd probably rather make a getaway than do anything to save the kids. Oh, sure, Draco would love to kill Zabini, I've no doubt, but only if he knew for sure he'd succeed. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they'd fled already. If Draco's up to Apparating again after being knocked out they might both be gone."

Penny had looked rather like she was trying to speak while he was rambling on and when he stopped talking she finally burst out, "But we're not alone! I brought help!" she said, smiling, taking a very squirmy grey mouse out of her pocket. "But--Zabini took my wand. I'll need you to take the Transfiguration spell off Shacklebolt."

"Shacklebolt!" he cried in shock. "All right, put him on the table," he said then, gathering his wits about him. He took out Pansy's wand and pointed it at him; a moment later a rather large, black, bald Auror was crouching on the table Percy had polished the previous afternoon. He seemed rather disoriented but quickly shook himself and jumped down onto the floor, stretching his arms and legs, grinning at them both.

"Percy Weasley!" he exclaimed, grinning, shaking Percy's hand in his iron grip. Percy laughed, not caring that it felt as if Shacklebolt were about to take his arm off.

"Kingsley, you old rogue! I don't know when I've been so glad to see anyone, apart from Penny here!" he admitted.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat and gave them both a sly look. "Yes, I know. I may have been a mouse, but I could overhear rather a lot of snogging from Penny's pocket..."

Penny turned a deep red colour. "I forgot you were in there," she said feebly. "You still have your wand, though?"

Shacklebolt whipped it out of the forearm-holster on his left arm and brandished it as if it were a conductor's baton. "At your service."

"Brilliant," Percy said, feeling breathless. "That's another wand we have, then. Wish Zabini hadn't taken Penny's..."

"Ah, but I took a precaution. I have extras," he said, pulling two more wands out of his other sleeve. "I've learned from past experience that things can happen to wands during battles. It doesn't pay to assume that yours'll be all right. And we didn't expect you to have one, so--"

"Well, I didn't, but--" he started to say, taking out Pansy's wand.

"So that's where my wand went!" a shrill voice suddenly exclaimed. Percy's stomach felt like it had fallen into his shoes as he turned to see Draco and Pansy entering the dining room, Draco still seeming extremely unsteady on his feet. Would Pansy still want to help them if she realised the subterfuge Percy had used to take her wand? "You know what I think?" she said, removing the spoon handle from her pocket. "I think Zabini very sneakily took my real wand and replaced it with this worthless thing. Wherever did you find it?" she asked Percy, her face rapturous as she threw the spoon handle aside and took the wand Percy handed her. Draco was looking nervously at Shacklebolt, who surveyed him with his arms crossed, his wand clutched in his right fist. Draco nodded at him, giving him a small wave.

Percy hesitated only a moment before saying, "You know, I don't even recall, now. I meant to give it to you as soon as I saw you but then you came into the kitchen with Draco, after he'd been knocked out."

Draco swallowed and looked at Penelope now. "Erm, I don't think we've met," he said awkwardly. "I'm Draco Malfoy." He turned and spoke to Shacklebolt now. "Zabini kidnapped me from Azkaban--"

"--on my watch--" growled Shacklebolt.

"--and forced me to--"

"--impersonate Percy and kidnap twelve children?" Penelope said, her mouth twisting. "Yes, I know what happened. So now that Zabini's turned on you, whose side are you on?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

"Erm," Draco said awkwardly; "listen--sorry about, well, you know. I mean--"

"Yes," Percy said impatiently, resisting the urge to hex Draco. "We know what you mean. So are you with us or not? Trying to save the children and capture Zabini, if we can, or just looking out for yourself?"

Draco regarded the hulking Auror beside Percy with trepidation before saying, "Oh, erm, saving the children, of course. What else?" he added feebly in an abnormally high voice.

"Should we trust him?" Shacklebolt asked Percy and Penelope, not taking his eyes off Draco.

Shacklebolt handed Percy a wand, which Percy kept trained on Draco. This served to make Draco appear even more nervous; after regarding his impersonator for a long moment, Percy said, "I think we can trust him."

"Oh, wait!" Penny said, hitting herself on the brow. "We have some other help as well! Crabbe and Goyle. They're on our side. They like the kids and don't want Zabini to hurt them."

"Well, that makes sense, not you being a traitor," Draco said to Penelope. "But--how is that help?" He looked doubtful. "They certainly didn't help when Zabini was disarming me and taking the kids down to--"

"If they had, wouldn't Zabini have probably killed them on the spot?" Penny countered. Percy saw that Draco was definitely more alert now; his brows knit together as he looked at his mother, still propped in the corner of the dining room.

"Possibly. Probably. All right, then, I'll need a wand. I'll take Mother's; I'm sure she won't mind. I know it responds well to me, too. First wand I learned spells with, when I was seven." He looked at Penny, Percy and Shacklebolt, whose mouths were hanging open. He snorted and said, "Come now, you lot are really shocked that my parents let me start doing magic before I went to school?" He sneered at their collective naiveté, striding to where Narcissa still leaned against the wall, shaking his head. He took his mother's wand out of her robe pocket and, before any of them could stop him, he'd revived her.

"No!" Percy and Pansy cried together, appalled. What the hell is he doing? Percy wondered.

Narcissa Malfoy straightened up, blinking. "What's going on?" she said groggily. A moment later, however, she was fully in control of her faculties, staring incredulously at Kingsley Shacklebolt and groping in her pocket for her wand. "An Auror!" she cried, ripping the pocket in frustration, failing to find the wand. Upon seeing it in Draco's hand, she screamed shrilly, "Well, don't just stand there, Draco, hex him!"

When Draco did nothing but toss her wand carelessly into the air and catch it repeatedly, she tried to grab it from him, but he snatched it from the air too quickly for her and held it behind his back. "I'm afraid not, Mother. You see, I know that your lover, good old Blaise, never had any intention of making me the next great Dark Lord. That's a title he wants for himself. Not that I was terribly interested in that, anyway. I just want to go away with Pansy, possibly to Gibraltar..."

Narcissa paled, which was a good trick for her already pallid complexion. "You!" she cried, pointing accusingly at Pansy. "You're still here? Not gone yet?" She turned pleading eyes to her son. "Draco, darling, don't be ridiculous. Would I have done everything I've done to allow Blaise to simply--"

"--set me up and let the Ministry think I was to blame for everything?" Draco said, his arms crossed on his chest, his mother's wand in his hand.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. Did she tell you that?" Narcissa sneered at the younger woman. Pansy was standing near the table, finally holding her real wand, looking like it was requiring a great effort not to hex Draco's mother; Draco saw this and sidled over to her, holding out his hand for her wand, which she reluctantly gave him. This did not shut up Narcissa Malfoy, however. "Oh, very nice. You need to disarm your whore to keep her from hexing your mother. Lovely choice, Draco. And what does she know, anyway? She still thinks she's good enough to be the consort of the next great Dark Lord..."

It happened too quickly for anyone to do anything about it; Pansy had reached behind her and picked up the cast-iron pan from the table, where Percy had left it.

"Oh, shut up, you bitch," was all Pansy said before striking Narcissa on the head with the pan, knocking her out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"When I have the power of the five of you, I shall be six times more powerful than any other wizard in the world!" Zabini proclaimed, his words echoing around the cavern. "And then how difficult do you think I will find it to acquire other innocent children whose power I can also take?"

Teddy lay on the stone next to the altar-like table. "But--you don't know what having that sort of power will do to you," he said, stalling for time. "Maybe human beings aren't meant to have that much power. Maybe it'll kill you or make you self-destruct or something. You don't know."

As Zabini laughed at his warning, Teddy whispered to Crabbe and Goyle out of the corner of his mouth. "Can't you two do anything? Stun him, at least?"

"Those two couldn't stun a crippled piglet," Zabini said, pointing his wand at the three of them, "much less me. And you seem not to realise that there are excellent acoustics in here, young Potter..."

"Harrison," Teddy said again through gritted teeth. "My name is Theodore Harrison, my grandfather was James Harrison, my mother is Matilda Harrison..."

"All of that hardly matters," Zabini said, flicking this information away carelessly, "as you'll be dead as soon as I can take your power. However, I think I'll warm up on one of your friends..."

Teddy looked desperately at where Julian and Nate were pinned helplessly to the cavern wall. "No! Leave Julian and Nate alone! If you want to take my power, take it, but--"

Zabini laughed that very disturbing laugh again. "Idiot! I wasn't talking about them. I meant the two beside you there. Now which one shall it be?" he mused, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked at Crabbe and Goyle. The pair lost all colour in their faces and looked at each other with wide eyes.

Suddenly, Goyle pointed at Crabbe and said, "Him! Take him! I won't do you any good, I had this time with Millicent Bulstrode once, in seventh year..."

Zabini threw back his head and laughed; Teddy frowned. It really was as though Zabini were trying to adhere to all of the Evil Overlord cliches. "You expect me to believe that? Very well... You may thank Goyle, Crabbe, for--saving you. Well, temporarily, at any rate, as I am still going to take your power. Because he tried to give up his best friend, he will have the honour of going first. Get on the table," Zabini ordered Goyle, who stared at him, open-mouthed, otherwise not moving. "I said get on the table!" Zabini repeated, his face turning red. "Or would you like a taste of the Cruciatus Curse as well? The kid withstood it, but somehow I don't think you'll do as well..."

Goyle immediately scrambled for the table and lay down on it. "Does--does the spell kill me?"

"No, idiot, the Killing Curse does that, after I take your power. Be still! Let me concentrate..." he said, opening the large tome he'd been carrying. With a wave of his wand he conjured a lectern on which he placed the book so that he could read it with his hands free.

It felt as if they were all holding their breaths. Then Zabini lifted his wand. Goyle turned his head and whispered to Crabbe, "I'm sorry, mate. I--I can't excuse what I done. But I'm sorry..."

Teddy gazed up at Crabbe, who nodded at his friend, his mouth drawn into a line, knowing that he was probably going to be next. Teddy saw again the grim resignation on Goyle's face, thinking, It doesn't matter that they failed to save us. They came back anyway, knowing it was risky, knowing they could fail. They could be safely in prison but now they're going to lose their power--and their lives--because they wanted to do the right thing...

As Zabini started to speak, Teddy slipped from Crabbe's grasp.

"Nooo!" he cried as Teddy threw himself in front of Goyle as Zabini finished speaking and the crackling orange light from his wand arched across the space between him and the rocky island, striking Teddy full in the chest.

Teddy gasped; the spell felt seemed to be controlling every nerve-ending, every muscle in his body. He felt himself rise into the air, connected to Zabini's wand by that thread of light, and he looked up at Zabini, his face draining of colour as he struggled to maintain the hold on his wand. He was dimly aware of Julian and Nate screaming his name over and over and he felt tears start to run down his face as he remembered the first time he walked into Hogwarts, the first visit to Diagon Alley, the first time he picked up his grandfather's wand and it emitted sparks...

"Aaaagh!" Zabini gasped, finally collapsing to his knees, dropping his wand on the ledge where he was crouching. His face dripped with sweat and he looked around with unseeing eyes. His formerly handsome features were suddenly worn-looking and ugly, criss-crossed with scars; he seemed to be the victim of botched plastic surgery. Teddy gasped at the change, although he didn't understand the reason for it.

When the light had collapsed that connected him with Zabini he had still floated in the air briefly before gently descending onto the rocky island again. Goyle sat up on the stone table, shaking his head sadly at Teddy. "Oh, lad, you shouldn'ta done that... I ain't worth it..."

Teddy couldn't speak; he felt very odd, a strange electric feeling surging through his veins. "I--I--" He couldn't put into words how he felt. It defied logic, but he felt more powerful than ever before, not less. He didn't know what to make of this. Perhaps this is what it would have felt like all along to be a Muggle? Maybe they all felt this way...

"I mean," Goyle continued, "you're Harry Potter's son. It ain't right..."

He saw that Goyle was crying and he wanted to comfort him, to say, "It's okay, really, I feel fine..." He did feel oddly all right, as though Zabini hadn't just sapped every last bit of power from him. But then he remembered that Zabini had planned to kill him as soon as he'd taken his power, which meant...

"Stupid brat!" Zabini proclaimed, standing shakily and raising his wand, pointing it at Teddy. His lopsided, misshapen features contorted themselves into an ugly snarl. "How pointless! It'll be their turn in a minute, and then your friends here," he added, swinging his wand toward Julian and Nate temporarily; the pair of them were crouched at the edge of the walkway, staring down helplessly at Teddy. "You've only sped up your own death. Avada Kedavra!" he cried, pointing his wand back at Teddy, who closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Percy!" Penelope cried, trying to support him as he collapsed against her. "What's wrong?"

They had left the dining room and were walking toward the drawing room with Shacklebolt, Pansy and Draco, each one of them with a wand at the ready. Percy's knees seemed to have given way and he sagged momentarily, as though he were the one struck by a cast-iron pan, not Narcissa Malfoy, who still lay prostrate in the dining room. Draco Malfoy had laughed and kissed Pansy after she'd knocked out his mother.

"Don't--know--" Percy gasped, but after a moment he was able to stand again. He shook himself, looking around, feeling as if his head had been wound about with gauze but now he was without it, able to see clearly, able to think clearly and act without restriction. He thought about leaving the house and, to his surprise and delight, he didn't immediately get the urge to polish the silver or clean all of the bathtubs. He laughed, a smile creeping across his face. "I think everything's going to be all right. They managed to kill Zabini."

The other four gawped at him in confusion. "What?" Pansy said, incredulous. "How could you know?"

"Because I felt the obedience spell lift. I'm no longer bound by it. Whatever he did to me, it must work differently on humans than on elves. You said he'd probably have to die for the spell to be lifted--and it is!"

The others were immediately more cheerful about going to the drawing room. "Well, come on, then, let's get the kids!" Penny cried, pulling Percy toward the door. They entered together and Draco and Shacklebolt lifted up the trap door.

Everything was going to be all right. Zabini was dead, after all. What could go wrong now?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Teddy stared back at Zabini, who was examining his wand, frowning. Zabini threw it onto the path; it bounced near the edge of the path, nearly falling into the chasm. He pulled another wand from his robes. "That one must not be any good now that it's done the spell," he said, his voice shaking. It might have been Malfoy's wand; Teddy wasn't sure, but he did notice that not only did Zabini's face seem more worn and used now, his robes were threadbare and patchy where they had been immaculate, the heavy fabric somehow having given way to what appeared to be flimsy, wispy rags.

Serves him right, Teddy thought. He may have my power now, but he's started disintegrating from the outside in. Teddy focussed on the wand pointed at him, trying to muster the nerve to die, trying not to be frightened, to show anything other than a stubborn willfulness to his murderer. He was going to go out with dignity; he would neither beg for his life nor show fear. He wouldn't give Zabini the satisfaction. Zabini appeared to be killing himself by acquiring more power; he looked more debilitated by the moment, as though his cells might cease to hang together very soon. Teddy tried not to wish that that might happen before Zabini managed to kill him; he tried to resign himself to death.

Zabini's features contorted into a mask of hate and bile. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried again, but once more, nothing happened. He might as well have been holding a random twig from a tree, with no inherently magical properties.

And suddenly some instinct inside Teddy told him what had happened and why Zabini couldn't kill him. His heart thrummed painfully in his chest, echoing in his ears as he raised his hands, concentrating on the wand Zabini still held and the one he'd thrown down. He felt the power surge within him. Could he do this? If he failed he was no worse off than he had been. There was only way to find out...

"Accio wands!" he cried. The wand by Zabini's feet immediately flew through the air to Teddy, followed by by Malfoy's wand, which had still been in Zabini's hand. He released it as though it had burnt him; Teddy caught Zabini's wand in his right hand and Malfoy's in his left. He stared at the wands in amazement, then looked up at Zabini, who was furious, his rage mangling his features so that he seemed barely human now. But Teddy was no longer afraid of him; he knew that he didn't need to be. He knew what had happened, what Zabini had really done.

He grinned at Crabbe and Goyle, then Julian and Nate, who were whooping and slapping each other on the back gleefully. Teddy grinned at the wands in his hands again, up at Zabini, then back at the wands.

"Cool!"

---