My Life As A House-Elf

My Life As A House-Elf -

Chapter Fifteen: The Intervention

* * * *

"Expecto Patronum!" Hermione cried.

A thin, silvery band of light shot from the tip of the wand. The room was filled, floor to ceiling, with intense, bright light, streaming like furious, white rapids into the darkness of the room.

Hermione shielded her eyes from the blinding light. She heard the Lethifold scream, a horrible, high-pitched cry, followed by the sounds of toppling furniture and shattering glass as it moved about the room, trying vainly to hide from the summoned guardian. Pandemonium broke forth.

She dared a peek through her fingers, and stared in delight at her Patronus, a magnificent silver otter leaping across the broken furniture as if it were darting across river rapids. Its miniscule, silver paws sprouted delicate little claws, its mouth ringed with tiny teeth.

Hermione was quite pleased with her Patronus. But she could congratulate herself later, she thought, and, not sparing another glance at the battling Lethifold and silver otter, she dashed towards Draco's bed, anxious to see if he was all right.

She approached to see him, still and unconscious. He lay tangled amongst the crumpled sheets, as if he had been struggling earlier on, and his usually precise, swept back blonde hair was lying unkempt and damp against his forehead. He also hardly seemed to be breathing, and this frightened Hermione worse of all.

"Oh, please, be alright," she whispered fraughtly, pressing her fingers close to the base of his neck, feeling for a pulse. When she touched his skin, she gasped. It was ice cold. And he looked ashen and deathly pale, as if he'd been dipped in moonlight. Then - there - she felt it, a pulse, though it was very faint, very weak.

Draco Malfoy was still alive, though barely.

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh in devastating triumph, or cry in shattering relief, or throw herself, sobbing, against the bed. Instead, she took a deep breath, gathered her frayed wits, and summoned whatever elfin magic there was still left in her.

She snapped her fingers.

Draco was lifted, hovering upon the enchantment of a simple Levitating Charm. Tiny, smoky clouds curled underneath him. Quietly, Hermione stole towards the door, keeping her eyes solely on Draco, ignoring the furious battle cries around her. She concentrated on the solitary, simple purpose of getting Draco towards the safety of the door.

A panicked shriek caused her to look up.

Her valiant little Patronus, darting around like a little silver arrow, had been far too nimble and courageous in its fight. The Lethifold held its helpless frame in its grasp. It still snapped defiantly - though fruitlessly - at the Lethifold's dark frame, letting out rebellious cries every minute.

Her Patronus was fading. The enchantment wasn't strong enough, she thought in despair, as the Lethifold strove to conquer the fading light. The Patronus made a desperate attempt to flee. Paws scrabbled against ensnaring shadow. But, too late, the Lethifold's members slowly began to constrict, coiling rapidly like vines around the otter's weakening form.

"No!" Hermione screamed. But the light soon began to fade ... and, in a flurry of sparks, the Patronus faded, followed by a deathly silence.

The room was once again shrouded in darkness.

* * * *

Lucius Malfoy was not having a very pleasant evening.

Not only was dinner called off, his appetite spoiled, and his day in town withdrawn prematurely; and not only was Narcissa still quite shaken and needed several glasses of wine to calm her - but there was something in his house, roaming through his hallways, determined to murder his son.

It was like a rather mild nightmare, he thought, although Lucius Malfoy had been waiting for this stage in fatherhood for ages, and Narcissa had been predicting subtle deaths everywhere these past few weeks.

He knew it was going to happen. He just didn't expect when.

Lucius breathed out a livid sigh, and turned his gaze towards a nearby portrait of a rather wise-looking Malfoy, who, at this moment, was hiding ineffectively behind his cabinet bedecked in ivory and silver.

"Pardon, Ophiuchus," said Lucius, tapping his cane against the portrait's gilt frame, "come out of there and tell me what's going on."

The elderly wizard strode out, glancing around himself nervously, before seating himself at a desk strewn with numerous herbs. A large, green snake was coiled in a shallow dish on the desk, apparently asleep. The wizard began rolling himself a cigarette. "Is it gone?" he asked cautiously.

"Is what gone?" asked Lucius, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"All the portraits are talking about it," Ophiuchus muttered. "It's some sort of dark creature in the Manor, and we're not its masters! Imagine that! Back in the day, we used to have a whole menagerie of Kappas and Redcaps -"

"Just tell me where it's going, Ophiuchus, and I'll leave you to smoke in peace," Lucius snapped irritably, giving his ancestor a wintry gaze.

Ophiuchus finished rolling his cigarette, and lighted it with his wand. "Oh yes, thank you. It's heading for the Tower Room, if you really must know. Do you smoke, Lucius?"

"Only when set on fire," answered Lucius, striding out of the hallway towards a nearby set of stairs.

A noise of clanking steel behind him diverted his attention. He threw a glance backwards. What met his eyes didn't exactly match up to his expectations.

The suits of armour lining the halls (which hadn't moved an inch in centuries), suddenly stepped down from their usual stances, and stood to attention in the hallway like a squadron of peculiar knights. Their slightly rusty joints squeaked as they moved, and their unused iron weapons glittered in the firelight. One of them was carrying a faded banner with the Malfoy's coat-of-arms burnished on the black velvet. Once in line, they marched to stand behind Lucius, silent and waiting for command.

Of course, Lucius thought. The old enchantments were working again. Back in the earliest centuries of the Malfoys - when their lives were being constantly threatened by jealous rivals, scheming enemies, and sometimes the royal families if several European countries vying for revenge - they would think of many spectacular ways to protect themselves.

The ancient stones of the Manor house were riddled with ages of protective charms and curses, all designed to trigger whenever a Malfoy's life was in danger. They hadn't come to life for generations (The armour themselves hadn't stirred ever since the time of Octavius Malfoy, who had nearly burnt the Manor down during the Dragon years).

I think the Army of Armour was great-great-great-great grandaunt Deirdre's idea, Lucius supposed, as he regarded the dozen or so suits assembled behind him. Oh well.

"Tower Room, then," he said, marching forwards.

The hall shook underneath their synchronised footsteps.

* * * *

"Stay back!" Hermione warned the approaching Lethifold. "Don't you dare come any closer, or I'll feed you to my furious, disgruntled cat, then you'll be sorry!"

"Granger?" a voice called, soft, tired and strained, behind her. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione spun around, to see Draco rise uncertainly to lean on his elbows. Hermione lost control of the Levitating Charm. Draco wobbled in midair, then fell a good six inches onto the floor with a dull thump and a suppressed groan, lying on the polished wood apparently wincing in pain.

Hermione's forehead creased. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Never enough," said Draco, and then he added, with a trace of matter-of-factness, "You're not human yet."

"There's no moon tonight," Hermione answered. "Are you alright?"

"That was a really stupid threat, you know," Draco said frankly, staring straight at her. His grey fevered eyes lingered on her for a moment, before it began to dawn upon him that there was a Lethifold in the room, and it had tried to kill him a few minutes earlier.

"Um, Granger, have you looked behind you?" he asked, a note of suppressed panic in his voice.

Hermione looked, and watched as the streaming shroud of dark hovered from shadow to shadow. Then turned back towards him. She nodded calmly, lips pursed. "Oh yes."

"And did you notice that there is a Lethifold there in the corner?"

"I did."

"This may sound surprising, but it tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I know."

"Then shall we move along?" Draco asked, glancing towards the door. "I don't think any one of us want to linger around and be eaten."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course not, she thought, looking at him in slight anxiety and annoyance. "Can you walk?" she demanded.

Draco tried pushing himself onto his arms. Then suddenly he cried out and collapsed, falling onto the floorboards. His hand was clutching uncertainly at his chest, and when he drew it back, it was stained bright with blood.

"Oh God," he swallowed, "that thing has teeth." Then he threw such a look of desperation in Hermione's direction, she felt her own heart twist painfully. "I'm going to die," he continued, in the same monotonous voice. "I'm going to die and I haven't won Quidditch against Potter yet."

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, throwing a look behind her in panic as the Lethifold began to cautiously advance on to them. "You thought you were going to die in your Third Year after getting just a tiny scratch from a Hippogriff, and you didn't. Now stay still, I'm going to lift you."

"So many things I haven't done," Draco continued, "I haven't told Father I actually memorized the entire Malfoy family Code. I haven't told Mother how lovely her singing voice is. I ..." he threw a look towards Hermione. "I haven't even properly fallen in love yet."

"Now isn't the time to be making jokes!" Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady. Blood was beginning to blossom across the carpet, already staining Draco's robes dark red. She was afraid. Fear wasn't something she was particularly proud of. Hermione didn't like being afraid, especially if it meant being afraid for him.

"I wasn't making a joke," Draco murmured solemnly, before he closed his eyes and lapsed once more into unconsciousness. His breathing became irregular, riddled with sighs and racking sobs.

Hermione couldn't concentrate hard enough to summon enough magic for a Levitating Charm. She couldn't. All she could think was Draco, Draco, Draco, and spared plenty of thought for death and how it was true: Draco was going to die, and it was going to be all her fault, all her fault.

You're immensely pathetic, she told herself, in anger, frustration, fear. You're going to abandon him in the time he would need you most, and no matter which exam you pass, or whatever brave deed you'll do in the future - if there is any future, you cannot undo this mistake you made, or bring him back.

She threw herself in the path of the Lethifold, trying whatever desperate act of protection she could muster. She sobbed. She was expecting something terrible to happen: the Lethifold to fatally close in, enveloping them both in murk and shadow, before tearing them to bite-sized shreds, devouring them, and leaving quietly through the window without a single trace of them left to mourn over.

Instead, she heard Lucius Malfoy's voice.

"That's enough," he demanded firmly, stepping into the shadowy twilight of the room. "You," he pointed his cane harshly towards Hermione, "get the boy out of here. And you all," he directed his gaze behind him, "surround all possible exits."

Hermione stared, open-mouthed, as Lucius stepped aside to give way to a marching squadron of knights.

No, they aren't knights, she thought in disbelief; they're the suits of armour lining the Manor halls! There were about a dozen of them, lining the circular walls like an army of toy tin soldiers. They blocked the windows and barricaded the door with their shining, metallic forms. The Lethifold hissed, troubled the find all its exit routes blocked. It let out a horrible shriek of rage.

"Petty," Lucius muttered in irritation, reaching into his robes. Hermione expected him to draw out his wand, but curiously, his hand emerged to clutch a thin, silver chain, on which dangled a tiny, curiously shaped pendant.

Narcissa's necklace.

It glimmered curiously like a star; faint trails of light drifting off the necklace like luminous, enchanted smoke. On closer look, Hermione noticed that the charm hanging delicately from the end of the silver chain was in the tiny, carved shape of a dragon, spinning swiftly as it hung down and it seemed to be -

... singing.

Lucius held the band high above his head.

"Invocarem Amuletum!" he summoned.

The chain seemed to burst into light. Hermione screened her eyes from the bright flare, only looking forward when the light began to take shape, like a birthing star.

It was a fascinating spectacle: shafts of light flew from the pendant to join a greater body, forming elegant, powerful wings, and majestic talons.

Rolling thunder shook the room from floor to ceiling, causing the chandelier to sway and the wooden beams to shudder. Silver threads gathered at the regal head of the creature to form bright, searing eyes, and a garland of sparks joined to form a crown of horns at the base of its head.

The Patronus, freed from the necklace by a Guardian Charm, let out a purring roar, spreading its elegant wings and rearing its head to tower above the Lethifold. Hermione had never seen anything so bright, so impressive, in all her life, nothing so intimidating. The Guardian emitted threat and glory.

The Lethifold cowered, silent. It was destroyed in a matter of seconds. With a blistering gaze, the Patronus breathed out a searing, frothing wave of silvery flame, engulfing the Lethifold in smoky clouds and fire.

What was left in its place was plenty of charred furniture, ruined stone walls and flaming tapestries. Lucius sighed.

This is going to be expensive, he thought. Holding the necklace out again, he summoned the Guardian and watched it thread back into the swinging pendant, like one would whistle a call to a puppy. The pendant glowed brightly; then it dimmed, before it returned to its normal, unspectacular state.

Lucius directed his gaze back to Hermione. "Didn't I ask you to get Draco out of this room?" he asked contemptuously. "Or do I have to ask again?"

"N-no, Master," Hermione stammered, finally finding enough magic within her to cast a Levitating Charm. Draco hovered upon a drifting cloud of smoke before Lucius.

The older Malfoy poked his son's shoulder harshly, ordering him, "Get up, boy."

Draco groaned slightly, then lapsed into a fit of violent coughing. Lucius stared at the bloodstains, then at Draco, his expression never changing from one of stony indifference.

"I can't stay long," Draco said simply, his voice laboured as he spoke, "I have to save that fool, Hattie ..."

"You're to take him to his room," ordered Lucius as he stared towards Hermione, "and tend to him till the family doctor arrives. Try to stop the bleeding if you can."

He waved a gloved hand towards the suits of armour standing by the door, and walked past them as they parted. Lucius' footsteps echoes down the stairway.

Hermione glanced worriedly at Draco, who swiftly began to descend into an exhausted sleep again. His eyes remained on her as they closed.

"I won't leave," she said sombrely, taking Draco's hand and bringing him towards the door. "I promise, I won't."

They passed through the open doorway, flanked by two of the silent, enchanted guards, marching down the staircase out of the horrible Tower Room.

Meanwhile, above in the wooden beams, a small, unnoticeable, winged creature watched intently as they left, before spreading its gauzy wings, and taking flight upon the cool, night-time breeze...

* * * *