Never Let Them See You Bleed

After Apparating in, the Aurors called to Malfoy Manor spread out, fan-like, in groups of two, wands out, ready for anything that came their way. After receiving an all clear, they moved towards the house, a giant, forbidding monstrosity meant to awe and humble all those that gazed upon it. The men and women of the elite team reached the front door and checked it thoroughly for any hexes or curses that might befall them once they passed the entryway.

Finding none, one Auror cautiously turned the knob, surprised when it turned easily in her hand. It was eerily silent in the house, without even the background noise of house elves puttering about. The eerie silence put everyone on edge. Breaking off into their pre-assigned two-man groups, they spread through the house, up all three floors, the attic and cellar, checking behind every door they encountered, finding nothing - except for the kitchens. Sealing that door behind them, they all took a moment to compose themselves before their leader started a fire in the main fireplace. There was no indication of a fire having burned recently, indicating that the master of the house had Disapparated.

A head suddenly appeared in the fire. "It's safe, then?"

Several heads nodded. They barely had time to back away before the flames turned green and four people popped out in rapid succession. One Auror from each assigned group stepped away and took their place beside one of the four Haven residents. Narcissa had to be in the most protected spot of all, in the middle of three other wizards, since she was wandless.

Harry looked around wonderingly. It wasn't all unlike his aunt and uncle's house; it just was more like a museum with all of the notably - and obviously - expensive furniture and decorations. "So this is how the rich and infamous live."

"Yes," Draco drawled. "Make sure you don't touch anything. We wouldn't want finger smudges all over."

"I would say something, but I'll refrain in mixed company."

"My, my, aren't we noble today?" Draco shot back with a smirk.

Harry glared. "Go fuck yourself, Malfoy."

"Although that's an interesting proposition, I don't believe it's anatomically possible."

"Oh, does that mean you've tried before?"

Severus sighed quietly. "The perverseness of fifteen year old boys never ceases to amaze me. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Splitting up into three groups - two Aurors with Severus and Narcissa, two with Harry and Draco, and two to stand watch - the majority walked up the stairs, unsettled by the absolute silence in the house. Reaching the landing with no difficulty, they split up once more, Narcissa to the left wing and Draco to the right.

Draco quickly packed everything he wanted: a few expensive, hand-tailored dress robes, most of his regular clothing that looked as if it was also hand-tailored, a few pairs of shoes, along with a few mementos; pictures of him and his mother mostly, he packed them all into a spare trunk. Turning to his school trunk, he opened it with a sense of well-deserved dread. Most of his school supplies had been ripped through, and his school robes were black tatters all over the trunk, the Slytherin crest still intact, as if mocking him. But most crushing of all - his wand, the beautiful twelve inch beech wood with the hair of a veela, was snapped in several pieces, with no hope of even Spellotaping it together.

The hurt slammed into his chest as he looked at the broken piece of his wand. He could remember showing it off to his father, seeking his approval, and then feel the warm weight of Lucius' hand on his shoulder. His father may have beaten him occasionally since he was five, but his approval and love were something that Draco had strived for all his life, knowing that approval meant one less beating. Lucius had been proud of him that day. They had all gone out to eat, further adding to the illusion of a happy family that Draco loved to see.

Now it was another, smaller, warm hand that landed on his shoulder. How long had he been staring at the trunk anyway? Turning, he was pinned in place by bright green eyes. The emotion in them caused his own emotions to start welling up. Turning away suddenly, he hurriedly reached into his trunk and grabbed the few sheets of parchment that had not been torn up, and then slammed the lid on his trunk, attempting to reign in his emotions.

Emotions are weak. Malfoys are not weak.

He repeated that in his head until the urge to break down and bawl like a baby had passed. Regaining his icy, aristocratic demeanor, he turned from the trunk.

"That is all I need," he said, pointing at the spare trunk. He was dearly afraid that Potter still saw straight through him and would say something, anything, that would break down his famous composure.

Harry shrugged. "You grab one side, I'll grab the other." Draco glanced towards the door where the Aurors were waiting. He snorted. "Honestly, Malfoy. A little work isn't going to kill you. We aren't allowed to practice magic outside of Hogwarts, or have you forgotten that already?"

"No, I haven't forgotten," Draco sneered. He had already long discarded the notion of the Aurors levitating it. "I just don't want you dropping it when your scrawny arms give way."

It was hard to believe that less than two minutes ago, he was actually feeling sorry for Malfoy. I still am to some extent. I know the loss of his wand has got to be hurting him immensely. I saw it in his eyes. But no one calls me scrawny and gets away with it. Glaring, Harry picked up one end of the trunk.

I didn't see him add any bricks, but it damn well feels like he's got it packed full of them. It almost feels like moving most of Dudley's junk out of my old room.

Stuffing the papers into his back pocket, Draco silently thanked his lucky stars that one of them happened to be his half-completed Potions essay, and picked up the other side of his trunk. On an agreed count of three both Harry and Draco moved towards the door, the trunk suspended between them.

Just as Harry started towards the way they had come up, he felt a sudden resistance on the other end and he was hard-pressed not to wince as his muscles screamed in protest. Looking over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not carrying this thing down alone."

Draco snorted. "As if you could. There's a shorter way down over here. Unless, of course, you would prefer to cart my trunk the long way around?"

Clenching his jaw, he shifted his grip on the trunk, longing to be able to wipe the sweat off his palms. "Where?"

Draco smirked and jerked his head towards his right, towards the master suite and the guest bedroom - both of which gave Harry the creeps, along with the beginnings of a headache.

"Fine. What are you waiting for?"

"Getting a bit testy there, Potter. Out of shape?" Draco teased as he took the lead down the hallway.

"I am not out of shape, Malfoy."

Draco snorted, feeling the glare hit the back of his head. "Sure you aren't," he drawled.

Turning abruptly at a small, hidden alcove, Draco led the way down the short hallway before setting his end down. Turning the knob on the door, his nose automatically wrinkled at the stale, musty air. The Manor hadn't entertained any guests in months, and the stairway was only used by the house elves to serve breakfast in bed - and by Draco to sneak down to the kitchens for a snack.

"Surely the both of you aren't trying to carry that down the stairs by yourselves, are you?"

Turning, they both looked relieved to see Severus, standing with his arms crossed, one eyebrow quirked, as if he were still waiting for their answer. Narcissa stood beside him, her wand out, levitating her own trunk. It had been quite a while since she had the opportunity to practice magic without Lucius hovering over her shoulder, constantly telling her she was doing it wrong, but with the simple act of levitation, she felt... more free, as if the Wingardium Leviosa had also lifted her mood.

Severus looking at her with approval in his eyes helped, as well.

"On second thought, don't answer that." With a swish, flick, and Wingardium Leviosa, Draco's trunk was in the air, as if it were never meant to be dragged along on the floor. The stairway was wide enough for three people to go down at once, so Harry, Draco, and one of their Auror bodyguards went down first, two other Aurors behind them, then Severus and Narcissa, each levitating a trunk behind them. The last Auror followed them down, guarding against any unexpected people from the rear. Silently, they made their way down the stairs, almost as if the bare walls were forbidding them from making any excessive noise.

Draco was frowning as they neared the other door, a strange sense of foreboding washing over him, puckering his skin, chilling his soul. It was too quiet. Normally, there would be the bustle of house elves, sounds of cookware being lifted and placed onto metal stoves, the odd, high-pitched chatter going back and forth, and he could usually hear the crackling fireplaces in the kitchens.

Rushing forward, he flung the door open, only to be met with the sour smell of death. His stomach churned violently as he gazed at the broken bodies of the house elves, utterly helpless to turn away. He could feel something inside him fall and shatter into a million pieces. Perhaps it was his illusions, perhaps it was his mind, and perhaps it was his heart. He could feel bile rising in his throat, and as he turned to race back up the stairs to get away from the kitchens, he saw his mother, hands tightly clamped over her mouth, her ash gray eyes wide in horror. She dropped her wand and would have dropped her trunk, sending it sliding down the stairs and into Potter, if Snape hadn't caught it with his own wand.

Narcissa was beyond horrified. Her stomach was revolting, the morning sickness added with the scene of what lay in the kitchens sent her scurrying up the stairs, desperate to make it to the loo. A stifled sob escaped her lips and her eyes were filling with tears, and then spilling over onto her cheeks as she ran back up the stairs, down the hallway, through the room she used to share, until she finally reached the loo. She had barely gotten to her knees when her stomach emptied itself. She was crying even harder now, gulping sobs only interrupted by the sounds of her gagging as her stomach rebelled yet again.

She felt her hair being gathered at the nape of her neck gently, as if a hard touch would break her, shatter her like the most delicate glass, and a large, roughened hand rubbed circles on her back. She stiffened instinctively for a moment until Severus' presence registered. To her horror, a small whimper escaped from her throat, but it seemed as if her stomach had finally settled for the moment. The tears were still flowing down her face, her shoulders still shaking from the force of her sobs, and she longed to just forget everything about the kitchens.

She should have known that Lucius would have been capable of that degree of cruelty, but her mind didn't seem to wrap itself around the concept. She couldn't stop crying, no matter how much she wanted to, and that frustration only built up into more tears. She was suddenly pulled against a warm body - a warm, male body, and as Severus' arms came up to wrap around her, she felt the tears start to dry up, subsiding into watery hiccups, then into delicate yawns.

"Feeling all right?" he asked gently, so as not to upset her.

She hesitated, but nodded anyway. As long as his arms were around her, everything was all right.

"Draco?" she suddenly asked, worried, berating herself for not thinking of Draco sooner.

He shushed her. "He's fine. Both he and Harry are in the lounge room, perfectly safe."

They stayed like that for a moment longer, a moment out of reality, fears and insecurities forgotten. Severus had forgotten how good it felt to hold Narcissa in his arms, how she fit just so against him. But he knew that he couldn't hold her forever. The Aurors could only stay until the next emergency happened - which could be next week, or in the next five minutes - leaving the four Haven residents completely exposed. He looked down at Narcissa, who was still yawning occasionally.

"Would you like to lie down?"

Her stomach turned again, though not violently enough to have her reaching for the loo, at the thought of lying down in the large bed in the next room over. "Not here, please," she begged. "I want to be back at Haven."

He nodded, and then released her. "Yes, let's go back to Haven."

He rose and offered her a hand to get back up. She didn't hesitate so long to take it this time.

---

It had, Narcissa reflected, been a very busy two days since they left Malfoy Manor. After Flooing back to Haven, Severus had automatically grabbed a sleeping draught and poured two glasses. Giving both Harry and Draco a glass, he ordered them both up to their rooms, an order which they both obeyed with a frightening lack of resistance. Early the next morning, as soon as Gringotts opened their doors, she and Severus had dashed inside, so as not to be seen or recognized. Quickly making the transfer from one vault to another, she was amazed at how her stomach was calm while zipping about in the mad Gringott's cart. It was a tight fit with two grown adults plus a goblin, and Narcissa ended up pressed against Severus the entire time.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise coming from a Muggle horseless carriage. Looking around anxiously, she finally identified the cause of the noise and watched, equally amused, fascinated, and horrified, as the driver of the loud vehicle leaned out of the window part of the way and yelled some very rude things at the driver in front of him whilst shaking his fist in the air. She had no idea why the Muggles were communicating in that fashion.

"The yelling man is angry that the person in front of him turned into his lane suddenly," a kindly voice said.

Jerking her head towards the voice, she felt the old fear rise up. Her hand gripped her tea cup hard, and her muscled tensed, waiting for the right factor to begin fleeing. Where was Severus? her mind asked. He said that he would not be far. She blinked once at the long mane of silver hair and the long silver beard, a beard that was long enough to tuck into the man's belt. She relaxed slightly as she recognized Albus Dumbledore - dressed in Muggle clothing. His light blue shirt was tucked into plain black trousers - the kind she was sure was at the height of fashion - fifty years ago.

"Headmaster-" she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Now, now, none of that Headmaster or Professor nonsense. It makes me feel positively ancient," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Just call me Albus." After a moment of silence, only broken by the noises from the street, he continued. "I'm sure you're most curious as to why I requested to meet you?"

Narcissa nodded and found her voice. "Yes, I am."

The twinkling light in his eyes faded and he leaned forward on his arms. "I'm sure you've heard of the Dark Lord's return by now?"

She nodded. "There is a group of people who have dedicated their lives to making sure that evil of that magnitude will never again gain power."

"What does this have to do with me?" she asked, confused.

"I play a role in this group, Mrs. Malfoy, as does Professor McGonagall. With our attention divided, we cannot run Hogwarts as efficiently as it has been. We need someone else to help us," he said softly, so his voice would not carry.

Her gray eyes were huge. "Wh-why me? Why not one of the other Professors?"

He shook his head. "They are also quite busy, either with keeping the spells around the castle in place, or also participating. This job that I am offering you will not require you to join any side. What we need is for someone to go through the mountains of paperwork both Professor McGonagall and I acquire." He smiled ruefully. "A secretarial job, if you will."

"How do you know that I just won't go to the Dark Lord with this information?"

He raised an eyebrow and pinned her with a stare, making her feel as if she were thirteen years old again, getting into trouble for the first time. She shifted uneasily in her seat, wishing that Severus was sitting at the table as well. He always had the answer, whereas she was merely blindly toddling about. "Voldemort would just as soon kill you and your unborn child."

Her entire body froze. How in the nine hells could he know about the baby? Unless Severus told him...

"Severus told me nothing about your condition."

"H-ho-how did you know?"

He smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways. Don't fret, my dear, the information will go no further until you wish it to be known."

She sighed, realizing the predicament she was in. "It won't matter in a month or so. Everyone will know then."

He nodded gently, as if trying to comfort a distressed daughter. "Severus must return to Hogwarts on the eighteenth. It would probably relieve his mind greatly if everyone else moved to Hogwarts as well. Haven is not as well protected over the school year as it is over the summer holidays, since Severus adds many of his own protection charms while he is living there."

She swallowed. Her mind realized that she had two choices: stay at Haven, where she would not have to face any questions about her pregnancy with less security, or she could choose to go to Hogwarts. She would get to see Draco more often, she and her child would be well-protected, and her dear friend would be close by. The offer of a job appealed to her as well. There were only so many books she could read, so many Wizarding Wireless programs she could listen to, only so many walks around Haven's large back yard she could take before she went stir crazy. The job, as tedious as it sounded, would be a way to relieve boredom, especially for when she got so large she could barely walk.

She looked up to tell Head- Albus, she corrected herself, her decision, only to find herself alone at the outdoor cafe on a Muggle street, a thick envelope sitting on the table. She looked up and down the street, wondering where he went, only to give up when she saw absolutely no sign of him. The cafe wasn't too far from the shopping market - a mall, Harry had called it - and she wondered how the three males were fairing. Swallowing a giggle, she signaled the waiter for another round of tea and slipped the envelope open.

---

"Honestly, Potter, do you not have any fashion sense at all? And above that, why the bloody hell are you looking at the cheapest clothes? What good is your money if you're not going to spend it?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Childish, he knew, but it served to vent some of his frustration at the pale boy shopping along with him. "As long as it fits and isn't something that my cousin used to wear, I'll buy it. And not everyone shops for the most expensive thing because it is the most expensive thing," he said before turning back to the sale rack.

Draco blew out his breath and looked around. It wasn't Diagon Alley for sure, but the Muggles had many strange, neat-looking things displayed in front of the stores. At least they were cool inside the enclosed space. Leaving the sales rack, he ventured inside the store, looking at various items.

"May I help you find something?" a well-cultured and bored voice droned from behind him. Turning, he looked at the Muggle woman, who was eyeing him with a mix of suspicion, boredom, and greed.

Doing his best to act properly bored (which wasn't that hard to do), he replied with a simple "No," and turned back to the merchandise. He could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move throughout the store. They didn't have much on display inside the store, which was just fine with him. It was less of an excuse to buy something. Wandering back out of the store, he hovered around the storefront again, waiting for Potter to finish browsing the racks, when his ears were suddenly assaulted by a blast of loud noise coming from the store three to his left and across the way. He frowned when he caught words that floated along with the noise - and he suddenly realized that it was a song.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

The bored Muggle who had watched his every move stalked past him and Potter, not giving them a second glance and stopped in front of the store the song was blasting from.

"For the last time, turn that sodding music down before I call the bobbies!"

As the music lowered, the Muggle stalked back down to the store and disappeared inside, not giving the two young men a second glance. Looking at each other for a moment, they seemed to reach a mutual agreement to move away from the shop. They moved closer to the music, and Draco noticed that Potter gave more than a few longing glances to the racks of Muggle contraptions. He too, was wondering about the music, as he couldn't abide listening to endless repeats of the Weird Sisters - the only magical act that was halfway decent. Even though he had been raised to despise all things Muggle, the quick blast of music had enticed his mind, and now he was willing to browse through more of the Muggle music.

"Are you ready?" a silky smooth voice asked from behind them.

They both turned, startled by Severus' silent arrival. He too was dressed in Muggle clothing, black trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt, a necessity, even in the heat. His hair was pulled back, and he was mildly amused by the looks some of the female Muggles were giving him. He wasn't interested in them, but it was a boost to his ego. Draco nodded easily, but Harry seemed hesitant.

"I've just got to get shoes," he finally said, nearly wincing. Severus' eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He suspected that Harry's Muggle relatives would have berated him for taking so long. He was anxious to get back to Narcissa, to make sure that she was all right, but he calmed himself by remembering that Dumbledore was probably watching her in his stead.

Harry walked quickly toward one of the many shoe shops in the mall, knowing that Sev probably wanted to get back to the magical world. He could hear Draco's sighs of frustration, as well as practically seeing the dramatic eye rolls. Ducking into the store, he came face to face with someone he hadn't expected to see.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed happily, her entire face lighting up with a smile as she flung her arms around him. He smiled as he hugged her back, well aware of at least four sets of eyes on them - and Hermione's body pressed up against his. Breathing deeply, his sense of smell was snared by the perfume she had sprinkled on.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, there Harry. Back up for a moment. Hermione's one of your best friends - no one should think about how good their best friend smells - even if they are a girl.

"What are you doing here, Harry?"

He smiled, his thoughts derailed for the moment. "School shopping. I, ah, didn't exactly leave Privet Drive with my suitcases full."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at Harry's words, along with his leftward glance. He didn't know it, but she knew he looked to his left and down every time he wanted to keep something a secret. And his departure from Privet Drive must have been something quite bad if he wouldn't tell her about it. One way or the other, Harry would talk to her about what exactly happened on Privet Drive over the summer, but only when the time and conditions were right. "Right. What kind of shoes are you looking for?"

Harry shrugged. "Ones that fit are all I care about."

A slight gleam entered Hermione's eyes as she looked from him to a display in the center of the store. "Well," she began. "If you're not averse to spending a bit of money, I do have some suggestions."

"Trying to convert another helpless soul, Hermione?" her mother teased while looking at the pumps.

Hermione smiled at the teasing. "They're good shoes."

"I'm not arguing with you on that fact, dear. Harry, my advice is that you run before Hermione gets you addicted as well," Elizabeth Granger said, with a teasing light in her brown eyes.

"Libbie, love, come look at this," Hermione's father called out.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and started pulling him towards the display. Harry, out of natural curiosity, followed her. "Harry, I swear to you on every book I've read that these are the best shoes ever made. They'll last for practically forever and," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I found a charm that works on enlarging shoes as you grow, so you don't have to constantly buy new ones."

"Already memorized our course books?"

She spared him a friendly irritated look. "Here we are. Doc Marten's, the best shoes ever made."

Harry thought that his jaw had become unhinged. Boots in every size, color, and style imaginable were displayed for everyone to look at. It would be so hard to just choose one - especially when he was pressed for time. He used his best pleading look on her. "Hermione, I don't have a lot of time-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it." She waved a salesperson over and turned back to Harry. "Which ones do you want to try on?"

He looked over the table quickly. He saw a black pair that was almost the same style as their school shoes. "Those," he said, pointing at them.

"What size?" the salesperson asked helpfully.

"Ah - a six?"

"All right, just a moment."

In less than ten minutes, Harry was the proud new owner of a pair of Doc Marten's shoes. Slipping them on, he had the cashier hold up the wastebasket so he could throw his old shoes - an old pair of Dudley's - away.

"Potter, are you-" Malfoy's words were suddenly cut short as both Harry and Hermione turned to look at him. There was an uneasy three way stare for a moment before Hermione looked at her best friend in confusion and - Harry winced internally seeing it - betrayal.

"I'll be along in just a minute," Harry said, anxious to get Malfoy away from Hermione.

"Whenever you're done talking to Granger, we'll be right outside." With that, Malfoy stiffly walked out of the store.

"Harry?" Her voice was shaky, asking to tell her that the last minute hadn't ever happened.

Taking her hand, he pinned her brown eyes with his green ones. "Hermione, I'm sorry, but I've got to go. I promise I will explain everything."

"When will that be? Next month? Next year? Possibly never?"

He could see the betrayal winning out in her eyes. "Soon. Trust me, things are not as they appear to be on the surface. I will tell you. Wizard's Honor." Giving her a quick hug, he turned and walked out of the store, barbs cutting into his heart with each step. He couldn't express how much he longed to run back to Hermione and tell her everything, but old insecurities kept popping up. He wouldn't be able to stand the pity in her eyes when she looked at him - nor was he willing to risk the wrath of Malfoy (he had no doubt that Malfoy would find a way to seriously hurt him should he ever tell of the reason the two Malfoys came to be at Haven). As soon as he stepped out of the store, Malfoy immediately started walking towards the exit. Harry started to follow until Sev stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

Looking up into the dark eyes, then back down at the floor, he nodded. He didn't want to tell Sev that he thought he had just lost a best friend.

Severus looked around before following the two boys. He didn't know what was wrong with Harry, but sooner or later, he would find out.

---

It was the twenty-ninth day of August, two days before students boarded the Hogwarts Express on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. It dawned a dreary day, with a gray, overcast sky looming above the Scottish countryside. It was reflected on the ceiling in the Great Hall, casting even more of a damper on breakfast. Everyone was wound tighter than normal; even the ghosts were jumping at the slightest sound. Peeves, remarkably, was quieter than normal, only making rude noises down the hallways rather than rattling the armor. Dumbledore seemed to keep his air of joviality around him, but there were occasional moments in which the twinkling light in his eyes faded.

It was the day that the Order of the Phoenix would meet again for the first time in fifteen years. For Harry, it was a most bittersweet moment. He knew that his parents, much like Sirius and Professor Lupin, were once probably part of the Order, and they weren't here to see him officially join it. After breakfast, there wasn't anything to be done, so both Harry and Draco were left to their own devices. Retiring to the Gryffindor common room, (the dungeons were still off-limits until additional protection spells could be cast, a fact that Draco was not that happy about) Harry stared into the flames of the fire while Draco flipped through a book that was lying near the couch he was currently lounging in. They spent the day like that, rarely talking, each lost in their own world of speculation.

After dinner, Dumbledore requested that everyone stay in the Great Hall until it was time to depart for the meeting, to be held on the protected grounds of Hogwarts, but not inside the castle. Finally, it was time to leave. When it was finally time to leave, all but Sinistra, Vector, Flitwick, Argbine (the Muggle Studies professor), and Filch left in small groups of two and three.

Severus waited for Narcissa and Draco to catch up before going on. They were attending for security reasons only - not that he didn't trust his fellow professors to keep her and her son safe, he just felt much better having her within his line of sight. She fortunately agreed with him, probably seeing him as her only friend in a world gone crazy. Harry and Draco walked a bit ahead, still not talking, their heads bowed.

The grove of trees moved back and forth in an unfelt breeze, a silent testimony to the power that was converging in that spot - a power that it had not felt in centuries. Centaurs appeared for brief moments, drawn by the power, but still keeping their distance from it.

Harry noticed that the Weasleys had already arrived and were currently talking to Sirius and Remus. Ginny silently waved to him, her small form drowned in Charlie's leather jacket and the big-brother arm over her shoulders. While waiting for the adults to finish talking, Harry suddenly noticed how much Charlie and Ginny looked like each other, like twins born years apart.

He was suddenly caught in a bear hug, and he relaxed as soon as he recognized Sirius.

"How are you, Harry?"

Hermione's face from the mall flashed in his mind's eye, but he willed a small smile up. "I'm doing all right, I suppose."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "The truth now?" he asked quietly.

Harry sighed. "All right, so I'm a terrible liar. No nightmares recently, but I think Hermione's mad at me."

"Ah. It is tough to have your friends mad at you." Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulders lightly, shoulders that stiffened noticeably for a second. Looking up, Sirius saw why Harry had stiffened - Hermione had suddenly appeared across the way.

Before Harry had a chance to move toward her, Dumbledore's voice echoed across the grove. "Everyone, please form a circle."

---

They were in a circle, no empty places to be filled, their hoods pulled over their heads, throwing their faces into nothing but shadows. Only two people did not have their heads covered - Voldemort and an old woman kneeling serenely in front of him. She had already made her peace, knowing what was to come for years now. She recognized the words Voldemort was speaking, ancient, powerful words, sealing her fate. A bloodstained tip of a dagger was presented to Voldemort, then one of the circle broke and moved to present his unblemished right arm to the Dark Lord. The skin was pale, and before the part that would be her death, she received one last premonition: the victim's face. Her eyes flashed and her face hardened. Three more words, then the Death Eater moved closer to her, another dagger in his hand. Closing her eyes as she felt the cold metal rest against the skin of her neck, she let her blood sing with the hatred of the men draining her life and her gift to be placed in another of their choosing - to do their bidding.

She would have none of it. She opened her eyes and stared at Voldemort.

"He will never be yours."

With a look from his leader, Lucius easily ran the dagger across the old woman's neck, sealing the Oracle Spell.

Now all he had to do was wait until his son came crawling back to him.

---

It started with a feeling of someone watching him, then grew from shivers up and down his spine to his teeth chattering - and then in one fell swoop, it felt as if he had lost control of his mind. The urge to Apparate to his father was both horrifying and blissful - until that urge was all he could think about. He had no idea he was running across the circle, towards the edge of Hogwarts' anti-Apparation barrier.

Draco would have made it outside the barrier if there hadn't been someone else in his way.

Ginny was caught entirely by surprise as he tried to wedge in between Charlie and herself - then his bare hand bumped soundly into her bare wrist. His hand wrapped itself around her wrist, and he felt his mind calm, the urge to go to his father vanishing. Ginny's mind, however felt as if it had been set on fire - there were so many thoughts, so many feelings all crashing into her mind like a wave battering a cliff. She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from screaming from the pain. Draco had already passed out, bringing her to her knees, since his hand would not let go of her wrist.

Harry felt his breath speed up as pain blossomed from the two scars Voldemort had given him, the jagged scar on his forehead burning more than the one on the inside of his elbow. Clutching at his scar, he felt his knees give way as Ginny's head went back, then straightened.

Her eyes were blood red as she stared a Dumbledore, who was staring back placidly.

"The boy is lost. No matter, the heirs of Merlin will die."

The pain became too intense and all Harry could do was scream. He didn't see Hermione's stricken face, nor hear her scream his name in fear. Then the world went to a comforting black.

Everyone was standing still, in complete shock of what had just transpired. A bolt of lightning soared across the heavens, lighting the scene. Dumbledore's face held no joviality, nothing but the power he commanded. His eyes, it seemed, were the source of the lightning, flashing with deep anger.

He stared straight at Ginny, who was now collapsed half over Draco.

"We will see about that, Tom," he said quietly.

fini.