Draco: Phoenix Rising

Chapter Thirty One - Mistaken Identity

Hermione was in no mood to listen to the Weasley family's favorite pastime--bickering amongst themselves--so she wandered aimlessly around the first floor for a long time, thinking. There must be some way to figure out where Draco and Harry had gone. Although by now, they could be finished with their search and on their way back. She stopped in surprise when she encountered Mrs. Norris in an otherwise deserted corridor. The cat hissed at her and yowled loudly.

Hermione looked around quickly, feeling guilty even though she wasn't doing anything wrong. If Mrs. Norris was here, Filch had to be lurking somewhere nearby. She heard a whisper of cloth and ran for the nearby stairs. She took the steps two at a time and then paused and leaned over the railing. Mrs. Norris was visible below, partway up the first riser, watching her.

"Who's there, Mrs. Norris?" she heard. "Aye, there are many sneaky 'appenings 'ere this summer, eh? But we're keepin' our eyes open, aren't we, Mrs. Norris?"

Hermione edged quietly back from the edge and continued up the stairs, hugging the outer walls. She wondered how safe it was to have the Order in residence with Filch snooping around. He had always obeyed Dumbledore, albeit grudgingly, but who did he owe allegiance to, now?

She continued upward until she found herself on the Astronomy Tower. She walked to the edge and peered toward the horizon, hoping to see two figures on brooms approaching. The blue sky was empty in all directions. She sighed.

Inspiration suddenly struck and she hurried back to the ground floor. She took a moment to catch her breath and massage her aching legs. They would not thank her for rushing up and down the stairs, although she wouldn't have to worry about fitting into her jeans for awhile, at least. When she could breathe normally again, she hurried to Classroom Eleven, looking for Firenze. She found him in his remade classroom, lying on the grass in a circle of flowers in a pose of meditation. She stopped, not willing to interrupt.

"Come forth, Hermione Granger," the centaur said in his calm voice. "What troubles you?"

"I need to ask you a question."

"Not about the future, I presume?"

She nearly sneered, but caught herself in time. She didn't believe a jot in Divination. How could the future be foretold when any chance decision could change the outcome from moment to moment?

"Definitely not. The present, actually. It's not Divination I'm interested in, but Scrying."

Firenze nodded. "An ancient art, but useful. You seek someone?"

"Yes. Can you help me? I just need to know if they're all right."

"I can help you. You will need to bring the necessary supplies. A large silver bowl filled with pure spring water and something that belongs to the person in question, preferably something personal. An item of jewelry, a lock of hair, or something they have handled often enough to leave an imprint of their essence."

"That's it?"

"The method is simple. Achieving the goal is not."

She nodded. "I'll be back shortly."

She ran out and nearly bowled over Tonks, who was heading for the front door. She steadied Hermione and then gave her an irritated look.

"Guess where I'm going?" Tonks asked. Hermione was stymied.

"I've no idea."

"I'm going to the front gate to let in Harry Potter," Tonks gritted.

"Oh." Hermione's relief overwhelmed all possible guilt.

"Yes, oh. What are you thinking to let him wander about like that? After all we've done to try and keep him safe?"

"Do you think I would have let him go alone?" Hermione snapped, stung.

Tonks measured her. "Probably not, but I doubt you would have stopped him--"

A loud voice bellowed from the Great Hall and Tonks bolted like a flash for the front doors, dragging Hermione with her.

"Rufus Scrimgeour is here. He's demanding to know where Harry is. Apparently, he went to London to check on him and discovered the Dursleys and Harry..."

"Gone."

"Yeah." Tonks hurried down the path as she spoke and Hermione had to rush to keep up with her.

"Then, there was some incident at St. Mungo's and Percy swears he saw Harry, although he couldn't be certain for some reason or another... Either way, we need to produce Harry immediately. Aberforth sent a Patronus to McGonagall, but she's busy trying to stave off Scrimgeour."

"Aberforth?" The name sounded vaguely familiar to Hermione.

"Aberforth Dumbledore. He's the proprietor at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade."

"Dumbledore's brother?" It took Hermione a moment to process that information. "Why doesn't he just open the gates?"

Tonks chuckled.

"Dumbledore insisted Aberforth never be given access to Hogwarts. I'm not sure if they got on well, frankly. Aberforth is something of a black sheep. Also, due to his dubious clientele, it's very possible for him to be captured or put under the Imperius Curse. It's safer to give him as little knowledge as possible."

As they approached the gates, Hermione could see a tall man waiting with two people hovering on brooms. She breathed a sigh of extreme relief.

"Why don't they just fly over?"

"They can't. They'd be stuck there like flies on flypaper. No one gets into Hogwarts anymore, by any means, without permission. Scrimgeour came by the Floo Network."

Hermione was reluctantly impressed with the school's defenses, even though it was a definite problem when it came to sneaking in and out.

"So, you can leave, but not return," she commented.

"Exactly."

Hermione was close enough now to pick out Draco's silver hair, but as she approached, she stared at him in puzzlement. There was something strangely different about him...

* * * * *

Draco watched as Tonks and Hermione arrived. Aberforth waved briefly and started back down the path toward Hogsmeade. Apparently, he wasn't very talkative, even with other Order members.

Tonks looked through the bars at Draco.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said with a short tone and then she blinked at him. Draco grinned as her eyes flicked from him to Harry.

"What in the--?" Hermione breathed.

Draco hopped off his broom.

"Well, we figured--" he began, but an arm suddenly clamped around his throat as he was grabbed from behind. Draco saw a frozen tableau of shock on the faces of Harry, Tonks, and Hermione, and then he felt the familiar yanking sensation of Disapparation.

When the rough arm released him, he collapsed in a weak heap, feeling nauseous and dizzy. The smell of dark earth and rotting leaves was strong in his nostrils and he gagged for a moment. Too much Apparition in one day... And he shouldn't have had that third ale...

He felt harsh hands about his person and knew his wand had been taken. Magical ropes twisted around his arms and legs. Someone chuckled and moved away. Draco fought down his weakness and blinked at his captor.

"Ho, that was just too easy, Potter! I captured Harry Potter! All alone! Let's see them laugh at Wormtail, now, let's just see!"

Wormtail. Draco heaved himself onto his haunches--a difficult process with his hands bound behind his back--and looked at the ratlike man cavorting happily. He glanced around. They looked to be surrounded by trees and undergrowth. A forest. But, which forest?

"Actually, I think they'll do more than laugh at you," Draco said dryly.

Wormtail stopped dancing and turned to stare at the sound of Draco's voice. He raced over and snatched Draco's chin with his metal hand, clenching hard. Draco glared into Wormtail's disbelieving face.

"But... I was there at the Hog's Head! I heard Potter's voice! I followed you down the path, waiting for you to get off the damned broom..." Wormtail was breathing hard and his hand squeezed even harder, nearly crushing Draco's jaw. "What are you doing masquerading as Potter?" Wormtail bellowed. Draco threw himself backward, out of Pettigrew's grasp. He worked his bruised jaw carefully. Potter was lucky Peter's little rat eyes were neither too keen in a gloomy, smoke-filled tavern, nor outside at a distance.

Wormtail was dancing again, but in a rage this time. He rubbed his hands together in agitation, flesh against metal.

"What is Draco Malfoy doing in Harry Potter's company looking like Harry Potter?" Wormtail asked himself. "Oh, the Dark Lord will be wanting an answer to that question! I think he'll be pleased with Wormtail, after all. And Harry Potter is at Hogwarts." Wormtail tittered happily, an irritating sound that chilled Draco to the bone. He began to realize the gravity of his situation.

"Where the hell are we?" Draco asked and pushed himself back into a sitting position.

"All in good time, little Malfoy," Wormtail crooned. "We'll go see the Dark Lord soon. Very soon. Just one little errand, first."

Wormtail walked to the edge of the small clearing and peered into the dense forest as if waiting for someone. Draco looked around carefully, trying to find some method of escape. His broom lay nearby. A promising sight, although he couldn't quite figure out how he would be able to fly the thing with his hands and feet bound. He began to inch toward it, nevertheless.

He wondered where his wand had gone, but assumed Wormtail had tucked it into the dirty black Death Eater robes he wore. Draco suddenly regretted placing Hermione's coin in his trunk back at Hogwarts. Not that he would have been able to tell her where he was... but at least he wouldn't have felt quite so alone.

Once again, Draco Malfoy was on his own. For the first time in his life, the thought made him very depressed.

Damn those Gryffindors. They were sucking the Malfoy right out of him.