Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Harry Potter and the Emerald Dragon

Chapter 15: The Castle

"Harry," Granger whispered. "They’ve taken Harry." 

"Will someone please," Draco began, violently ripping his arm out of Emily’s grasp, "explain to me what the hell is going on!"  He took a few steps away from them now that he was free.  Emily looked up at him, and he could see that her eyes were vacant, almost lost.

"They know," she said. 

"They know what, exactly?" Draco asked. 

"Everything."

"Define ‘everything’?"

"Draco, you know exactly what I mean," she said looking away from him, "Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"  Draco ran his hand through his hair in frustration

"Yes, actually, I do."  He glanced over to where Granger and Weasley stood.  "Very clearly."

"What’s he doing here?" Weasley suddenly asked, stepping toward Draco and narrowing his eyes at the blond boy.  "Exactly whose team are you on?"  Draco noticed that Emily flinched at that last remark.

"He’s here because we need his help," Emily said, raising her chin so that she was looking directly at him.  Draco instantly turned away.  "Please, Draco, we don’t have much time and —"

"You’ve been double dealing this entire time, haven’t you?" Draco asked.  She didn’t respond.  "HAVEN’T YOU!" he barked.

"No."

"No? Then what the fuck is all of this?" he asked, indicating the two people standing a few feet away from him. 

"Let me explain," she pleaded, reaching towards him.  He quickly moved out of her reach.

"All week I’ve been asking you to explain, and now," he fisted his hands in frustration, "NOW you want to explain?"  He saw her open her mouth to respond, but he put up his hand to stop her. "You know what, don’t waste your breath," he responded, taking a few more steps away from her.  "I don’t want to hear it."

"You don’t understand, I—"

"You’re right, I don’t.  And I don’t want to.  In fact, I don’t want to have anything to do with you right now."  He threw one last glance at Granger and Weasley and turned around and stalked back into the Great Hall.

* * * *

"You still haven’t told us what we’re coming all the way out here to see," Ginny said, grabbing onto Oliver’s arm.  He stiffened at her touch and pulled away from her.

"That’s because it’s a surprise," he said, looking down at her with a strange smile.  It was almost as if it was forced, as if he didn’t want to smile but somehow felt the need to.  Deciding to ignore his strange behavior, Ginny glanced back at Harry, who was walking with his hands in his pockets a few feet behind them, staring at the ground. 

"I’m glad we brought Harry," Ginny whispered, leaning into Oliver so that Harry wouldn’t hear her.  "He looked miserable back there."

"Yeah," Oliver responded weakly.

"I wish he’d just snap out of it sometimes and forget about Emily," Ginny added, wrapping her hands around herself for warmth.  "Ever since she came here he’s been unhappy."

"I can hear you," came Harry’s voice from behind her. She heard his footsteps quicken and before she knew it, he was right beside her. "You’re a horrible whisperer."

And then it happened.  Without notice, several dark figures came running out at them, and, faster than a Firebolt, the two students were surrounded.  Ginny threw her hands into her pockets, reaching for her wand until she realized she didn’t have it: it was neatly placed on the dresser beside her bed.  "Dammit!" she cursed under her breath, watching closely as the figures drew closer.  She looked around her, panic quickly running through her veins.  They were trapped.  Completely surrounded.  And wandless.

When she looked over at Harry, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.  His head whipped around, watching every move of the people that were encroaching on them.  But when she looked over at Oliver, she did a double take.  He wasn’t watching the figures at all.  In fact, his back was to them and he was simply staring off into the distance.  Or wait, she thought, realizing he was more then just staring at nothing, he was staring at Harry.  And he was holding something.  Something long and thin and…

"You’ve got your wand," Ginny said, staring at the object clutched in Oliver’s hand.  He looked at her for a moment, before focusing his attention back on Harry.

"Don’t try anything brave, Harry," Oliver said, stepping towards Harry.  Ginny couldn’t believe her eyes, and she suddenly found herself jumping in front of Oliver.

"What’s going on?" she demanded, "Oliver, what are you doing?"

"Get out of my way, Gin," he said, bringing his arm forward and pushing her to the side.  She stumbled before catching her step.

"Oliver!" she yelled.

"Harry, you’re surrounded.  Just come with us and no one will get hurt."  Harry was backing away from Oliver’s approaching form, but several Death Eaters lurked a few feet behind him, waiting.

"Oliver!" Ginny yelled again, jumping forward and grabbing his arm.  But a pair of arms  seized her around the waist and hauled her backwards.  "Let go of me!" she yelled, throwing her elbow back.  The man released his grip, folding over with pain from her blow, and she scrambled forward, only to be grabbed again by two different men.  They each grabbed one of her arms and practically lifted her off the ground.  She kicked and squirmed and fought as best as she could.  "Let go of me!" she cried again.  She managed to bring up one of her legs and thrust it into the stomach of one of the men holding her, causing him to release his grip.  As soon as half of her was free, she turned on her other captor, kicking and throwing her arms and trying anything to free herself.  He held tightly and soon began to fight back.  He threw her to the ground and grabbed a sleeve of her dress, ripping it and throwing his balance off.  She took his momentary loss of rhythm to scramble to her knees, and she began to scramble away, tripping and falling as she did so.  She ran towards Harry, who was now being restrained by several other Death Eaters, trying as best as he could to get them off of him.

"Come back here you little girl!" she heard someone yell from behind her. She glanced back just in time to see him leap forward, throwing himself onto her.  She crashed to the ground, the weight of him making Ginny feel as though her ribs had been crushed.  She couldn’t move, let alone breathe.  He grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, and she tried to kick and free herself, but he brought his hand back and hit her.  Her head snapped to the side, the pain crashing through her jaw.  She could taste blood in her mouth.  She continued to fight him though, despite the pain her entire body felt.  She tried to turn over, tried to get up and away.  I’ve got to get away! she kept screaming to herself.  She was on her stomach now, when the man suddenly grabbed her hair and brought her head back.  And then he pulled harder, and harder, until she was pulled up off the ground and standing, painfully, on her feet again.  She tried to resist, but he was gripping her too hard. 

She could feel his fingernails digging into her flesh as he shoved her forward, causing her to stumble towards the place where Harry and the others were standing.  As soon as Harry saw her approaching, he struggled harder against his captors.

"Ginny!" he called, but seconds later, a flash of red sparks flew from one of the wands and Harry was doubled over, his head dangling from his shoulders.

"What should we do with her?" one of the Death Eaters asked, though she could just barely hear him.  Her head was throbbing, as was the rest of her body, with pain.  "Leave her?"

"No, she’s coming with us," Oliver said.  "We can’t just leave her here."

"But our instructions were to bring back the boy, not this!" the man that was holding her said, shaking her to indicate that she was what he was referring to.  She could barely support herself on her feet, and could feel her legs starting to give out. She was just barely able to lift her head up enough to glance back at Harry, who was still hanging limply.  He looked as bad as she felt, his clothes dirty and his face lacerated.

"If you hadn’t roughed her up so much, we could have memory charmed and left her, as was planned," Oliver exclaimed, stepping towards her.  She tried to pull away from him, but as soon as she twisted around, a blinding pain seared through her body. One of her ribs was definitely broken. 

"Then we can dump her in the forest."

"I said we’re taking her with us," Oliver growled at the man, "Stun her and then we’ll go."  The next thing she knew, the man had released his grip on her, and without his support, she crumbled to the ground.  She tried as best as she could to scramble to her knees, but whenever she moved, the pain returned.  She instead slumped to the ground in a heap of dirt and ripped dress, her cheek flat against the cold grass.  She could hear Oliver arguing with the man still, and then she heard heavy footsteps come up next to her. 

"Stupefy!"

* * * * *

Ron, Emily and Hermione hurried along the halls, quickly making their way to the headmaster’s office.  They walked in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts concerning Harry.  Finally, they turned the corner and found themselves face to face with the stone gargoyle.

"Do we know the password?" Ron asked, looking between the two girls next to him.  Emily noticed that they both seemed to be taking the situation rather well.  But then she remembered that they were used to this.  They were used to Harry being in danger because that was his natural state, or so it had seemed in the past few years. 

"Harry said it’s always some kind of candy," Hermione said, looking determinedly at the gargoyle.  "Chocolate Frogs!" she yelled, though nothing happened.

"Fizzing Wizbies!" Ron yelled.

"Coconut Comotion!"

"Bertie Botts!"

The two of them were going back and forth, yelling out the names of whatever candy popped into their head, for several moments.  Emily watched until she had had enough. She pushed through them, pausing their candy naming and leaving them staring at her. 

"I’ll be right back," she said, glancing over her shoulder at them.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, a note of panic in his voice.  So, he’s not as cool and collected as he lets on he is, Emily thought with a wave of relief.  I’m not the only one who feels like losing it!

"Inside," she responded, "Wait here."  She saw Ron open his mouth to say something to her about this, but she had ‘popped’ out before a sound had any chance of escaping his lips. 

She felt the familiar feeling of wind rushing past her and the next thing she knew, she was standing in the center of the headmaster's office.  She glanced around and saw it was empty save the large phoenix perched in a cage to her left.

Realizing he wasn’t there, she cursed under her breath.  She’d just assumed he would be. What else could he possibly be doing on a Friday night!

"Good evening, Miss Waters."  Emily swung around to find Dumbledore standing there.

"How did you get behind me?"

"I think a better question would be how you got into my office," Dumbledore said, taking a few steps forward.  "Though, I have my suspicions."  He was approaching his desk, when Emily suddenly remembered why she was there.

"We have to speak with you!" she blurted.

"We?" Dumbledore asked, stopping in his tracks.

"Ron and Hermione are downstairs."

"I assume this has to do with Harry then."  Emily nodded.  "He’s been taken, hasn’t he?"  Emily looked up and saw the grave look in the headmaster’s eye before nodding again.

The headmaster swung around and walked swiftly to the fireplace.  He retrieved a small pouch from the mantle and threw a pinch of its contents into the fire.  "Sirius Black," he enunciated, and within moments, a man’s head was floating among the leaping purple flames. "Come to my office straight away," the headmaster said.  It was a tone that even Emily wouldn’t question, and the man’s head quickly disappeared without a word. 

"Before they come, there’s something I need to tell you," the headmaster began, walking back to the other side of his desk.

"But, Ron and Hermione are right outside, shouldn’t we –"

"Sirius will let them in once he’s arrived," the headmaster assured her.  Emily noticed that he was watching her very intently.  "Has he told you of the prophecy?"

"About how I’m the Emerald Dragon?" she asked, thinking it was an odd question.

"No, the prophecy concerning Harry."  She blinked with surprise.  "I take it he hasn’t mentioned it."

"What prophecy?" she asked weakly.

Dumbledore frowned for a moment.  He turned toward his desk uneasily.  Emily could sense the headmaster’s silent debate, but the man finally spoke. "He was born to destroy Voldemort."

"He was?" Emily responded, wondering why he hadn’t told her.  She felt this was definitely something he should have mentioned at some point in time!

"It has to be him," Dumbledore said solemnly.  "And he can’t do it if you’re there."  Emily looked at the headmaster blankly.  "He can defeat Voldemort, but he cannot defeat you, even if he wanted to."

"What are you saying?

"He needs your help to get to where he needs to be. But once he’s there, you mustn’t be present.  Voldemort can very easily use you to destroy him, at which point all hope will be lost."

"I still don’t understand," Emily responded.

"You will.  When the time is right, you will."

* * * *

"Where the hell did she go?" Ron huffed, pacing back and forth in front of the gargoyle.  "She’s been gone for more than five minutes!"

"I assumed she was going to Apparate inside, and then come get us," Hermione answered.  "But she should have been back after only a minute of two."

"She’s ditched us," Ron said, throwing his hands up into the air.  "She up and ditched us!"

"She wouldn’t do that," Hermione insisted, swinging around as she heard footsteps approaching.  "Someone’s coming." 

Moments later, a large black dog came bounding around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of them both.

"Snuffles!" Ron cried, kneeling down.  But at that moment, Sirius transformed back into a man so that he was towering over the Weasley boy.

"Alligator Crunch," Sirius said without missing a beat.  Hermione and Ron looked at each other and followed Sirius up to the office where they found Emily and Dumbledore seated at the desk.  "What’s happened?" Sirius asked, looking more worried then Hermione had ever seen him.

"They’ve taken Harry!" Ron blurted.  Startled and angered by this information, Sirius turned on him.  Hermione suddenly remembered why so many people were scared of Sirius Black. 

"Sirius, let’s get the story before we lose our heads," Dumbledore said.  Ron was cowering away from Sirius’s glare, and Hermione was quite sure that Ron would be keeping his mouth shut for the remainder of this meeting.  "Sirius?"

Sirius’s expression softened, and he turned around, taking a seat next to Emily.  Ron and Hermione did the same.

"Did any of you see it happen?" the headmaster asked, looking at the three students.  Hermione looked at Emily.

"No, it was…very well orchestrated," Emily answered.  Hermione suddenly realized that in her rush to get to the headmaster, she hadn’t even asked Emily how it had happened. 

"How so?"

 "I didn’t even find out until after it had happened."  Everyone continued to stare at her.  "Draco told me."

"What did Mr. Malfoy tell you?"

"That everything was going as planned, and that I was under direct orders from the Dark Lord not to get involved."

"But how did they get him out of the hall?" Hermione asked, realizing that if a Death Eater had simply walked up to Harry, mayhem would have ensued.  "He wouldn’t have just left with a Death Eater."

"He wouldn’t have known he was a Death Eater," Emily answered.

"That who was the Death Eater?" Hermione prompted. 

"Oliver Wood."  There was a heavy silence; all of the air seemed to be sucked out of the room.  Hermione couldn’t even be shocked.  She was beyond shocked.  And then she remembered…

"Ginny!" she cried, quickly looking over at Ron.  He blanched, having just realized the same thing.  He looked as though he had been told that the world was about to end.

"She’s gone, too," Emily said weakly.  There was more silence, and then…

"Ginny’s with Harry?" Ron asked, snapping out of his trance.  Hermione could have sworn he sounded happy about this.  Emily nodded gravely, but it only made Ron look happier.  He jumped up out of his seat, and shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small, square object.

"The locator!" Hermione gasped.  She’d completely forgotten about it.

"We can find them," Ron said, holding the locator flat on his palm.  It spun around and stopped, its arrow pointing towards the windows, glowing a dull blue.  "They’re far away, but we can still find them, right?"  The headmaster rose from his seat and peered over into Ron’s hand. 

"Where did you get that?" he asked.  Ron looked over at Hermione.

"We made it," Hermione said nervously, unsure if it was legal to make locator charms in school, though there weren’t any rules against the activity that she was aware of.  "Ginny and I were testing it out tonight."

"I see," Dumbledore said, reaching out his hand for the locator.  Ron handed it over.  "Ms. Waters, do you have any idea where they’ve been taken?" he asked, glancing away from the object and over at Emily.  She shook her head.  "Then I’m very glad we have this," he responded, closing his hands around the locator.  His face went into a determined stare at his closed hands, and Hermione could tell that he was hashing out a plan. 

But before Dumbledore could speak again, Emily cried out in pain, folding over in her chair and clutching at her arm.

"Emily!" Hermione shouted, jumping out of her seat.  She looked exactly as Harry did when his scar flared up.

"He’s calling me," she wheezed through clenched teeth.  She was slowly massaging her forearm.  "I have to go."

"You have to what?" Ron exclaimed.

"I have to go; if I wait too long the Dark Lord will know something’s wrong.  That is, if Draco hasn’t already blown my cover."

"Mr. Malfoy?  He knows you aren’t loyal?" Dumbledore asked.

"I…I thought I knew him better then I apparently do," she said, rising out of her chair.  "What should I do when I get there?" she asked, standing in the middle of the office.  She looked as though she was preparing herself for the most horrendous thing she’d ever experience.  But then, Hermione realized it probably would be the most horrendous thing she would ever experience. 

"For as long as possible, do nothing to raise suspicion.  Do not make any attempts to see Harry; remember what I told you when you first arrived here this evening.  And," Dumbledore paused for a moment, "Mr. Malfoy is an interesting young man: he may surprise you yet."

Emily looked at the headmaster gravely, nodded her head, gave them all a meek wave, and then ‘popped’ out.

"Harry needs his wand," Dumbledore said, turning to the three remaining people. "And we need to ensure that Ginny remains safe.  She is expendable, so we must remove her from the situation."  Dumbledore looked over at Sirius.  "I suspect you’ve already decided that you’re going." Sirius nodded. "Good.  I’ll speak with some of my other operatives and organize a team.  I know that inspector Temple is nearby and should be easy to reach, though she’s not in any condition to be going on a rescue mission.  Remus should also be available, but I don’t know whom else I’ll be able to reach on such short notice. We may have to wait until tomorrow."

"But we don’t have until tomorrow," Ron said, looking very worried.  "We have to do something now."

"It will take some time to contact the operatives-"

"What about us!" both Ron and Hermione said.  They looked at each other, surprised.

"I can’t possibly allow – "

"If it weren’t for Hermione and her locator, we wouldn’t have anything to work with.  Harry’s my best friend, and Ginny’s my sister. We’re going, and that’s final." Ron had a note of challenge in his voice, and Hermione was shocked that he would speak to the headmaster in such a way. But she was even more shocked when she heard Dumbledore’s answer.

"Very well."

* * * *

"Christ!" Draco swore, slamming the door to his room and leaning up against it. "Jesus Bloody Christ!"  In one stride he was across the room, leaning over his desk, his eyes closed, supporting himself with his arms.  He wasn’t exactly sure what the cocktail of emotions he was feeling at the moment meant, and he certainly couldn’t understand how rage, embarrassment, and concern could be felt all at once, but it was happening. 

"Dammit!" he swore again, slamming his hand down onto the desk.  It was then that he opened his eyes and, for the first time, noticed an envelope sitting neatly before him.  It was a crisp, black envelope with a large green "M" stamped in raised ink at the center of it.

Draco stared at the letter for a very long time, not moving even to blink.  It was from his father, he was certain.  The last thing he wanted was to deal with Lucius at the moment.  He was fairly sure it had something to do with the abduction, in which case, he really didn’t want to deal with it at the moment.  Seeing Emily with them had completely thrown him for a loop, and all he could think of at the time was that he had to get out of there.

He slowly pulled out the chair to his desk and sat down, still staring at the envelope.  He had to open it; he didn’t really have a choice.  Realizing this, he reached forward for his wand, and then used it to slit open the letter.  It was short, and to the point.

Draco-

We’ve acquired the boy with only minor setbacks.  The Dark Lord requests you be present at the castle immediately.  The Emerald Dragon is not cooperating as we had planned and is, therefore, not to be trusted.  The Dark Lord will deal with her when she arrives.

Be at the edge of the Forbidden Forest at midnight tonight.

Your Father.

Draco stared at the open letter in his hands.  They know, he realized.  How they could possibly know when he himself had only found out a few minutes ago, he hadn’t a clue.  But they did.

Before he even had a chance to think it through, he was out of his seat, through his door, and walking swiftly through the castle.  I have to warn her, he kept thinking in his head.  He didn’t care that this meant that he was going against everything a Death Eater should do.  He wasn’t a Death Eater right now.  He was Draco, and he had to find her.

He was storming through the hallway, lost in his thoughts, when, suddenly, he ran into two people hurrying in the opposite direction.  He was momentarily jarred, swinging around and forcing himself to return to reality.  And, realizing whom it was that he’d run into, he couldn’t help but smile.  The two people standing opposite him, however, looked non-to-pleased to see him.

"Where’s Emily?" he demanded, deciding to cut to the chase.  He didn’t like them, they didn’t like him, why bother with the pleasantries?

"Like we’d tell you!" Weasley retorted.  Draco had to give him credit – this was the second time in one evening he’d shown some courage.

"This is important," Draco returned, taking a threatening step forward.  "Now, tell me where she is."  Weasley raised himself to his full height, which Draco quickly noticed was a good three inches taller then he could ever hope to be and stared down at Draco.

"Like hell I will!" he barked.  Draco, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere starting a fight with a Weasley, put his hand up to signal that he wasn’t trying to start trouble.

 "She’s in danger," Draco said, turning to Granger, who he hoped would better grasp the situation.  With any luck, her intelligence runs deeper than memorization.  "I have to warn her," he said.  "They know she’s not loyal."  Granger immediately reached her hands up and placed them on Weasley’s arm, pulling him back.

"Let him talk," she said, looking at Draco with scrutinizing eyes. "Why should we trust you?"

"Because Emily would," he answered.

"You hate Harry!" Weasley interjected.

"This has nothing to do with Potter," Draco responded, looking back over to Granger, "I need to speak with her."

"You can’t--she’s already gone," Hermione answered weakly.  "She was called while we were in the office with the headmaster."

"Shit!" Draco swore, clenching his fists and swinging away from them.  "Shit! Shit! Shit!" he repeated, I’m too late.

"She suspected it anyway," Granger said, "She actually figured you had run off to tell them."

"Well, I didn’t," Draco growled.  He was still cursing himself mentally when he suddenly realized that Granger and Weasley were whispering to each other.  Draco spun around, and stared at them.

"No, Hermione," Weasley hissed, turning his back to Draco.

"But we may be too late," Granger whispered in response.

"We can’t trust him!" Weasley hissed back, "How do we know—"

"What are you two morons whispering about?" Draco interrupted.  Weasley glanced over his shoulder at Draco, and then turned back to Granger.

"Absolutely not!" he hissed, his back to Draco again.  Granger glared at him for a while, causing Draco to wonder how the two of them ever got along well enough to be dating.

"It’s our best chance," she said, pushing past Weasley and walking up to Draco.  As she did so, she pulled a wand from her pocket.  Draco raised his eyebrow at it.

"You’re going to wherever they’ve got Harry, right?" Draco nodded, unsure where Granger was going with this line of questioning. "I need you to give this to him," she responded, holding out the wand to Draco.  He looked down at it, and then up at Granger.

"Oh, no!" he said, stepping away from her.  "I don’t think so."

"He needs it!" Hermione bellowed, shoving it forward again.  "If you want to help Emily, then you’ll make sure Harry gets his wand."  It was a moment that seemed to drag on forever as Draco considered what to do.  By taking the wand, he was not only helping Potter, but he was also going against the Dark Lord.  However, by refusing, he was hurting Emily, the only person who had ever understood him.

Draco closed his eyes, and then reached out and took the wand.  "I don’t know if I’ll have access to him," he said as he put the wand in his pocket.

"Then give it to Emily," Granger said, turning back to look at Weasley, who was glaring at Draco.

"You screw us over, Malfoy, and I’ll make sure you die a slow and very, VERY, painful death, you got that?"  Weasley threatened, looking like he meant every word of it.  Draco had an instant flash of all six red-haired Weasleys coming after him with beater clubs.  Draco was about to respond when he suddenly thought of something; something that might make them trust him. 

"I assume you are planning on saving Potter tonight," Draco began.  They both nodded feebly.  "Well, as a sign of good faith, I’ll give you some advice.  Don’t attack the castle in typical Gryffindorian form," Draco warned, imagining the two of them running at the front doors, wands drawn, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs. "The Dark Lord is well known for his protective wards, and an inappropriate approach to one of his castles has killed many a Death Eater."  Draco paused, steeling himself against the idea of the information he was about to pass on to two people he never in his life thought he’d be helping. "There should be a wooden door with a green-and-black knocker on it, facing east.  Every hideout and Death Eater residence has one.  It’s a safe entrance to anyone who knows the password."  The two of them stared at him for several moments.

"Well, would you care to tell us the bloody password?" Weasley boomed.

"Point your wand at the center of the knocker and say ‘Obitus’."

"Death?" Granger asked, instantly translating the Latin word.

"Equidem," Draco responded. Of course.  Granger stared at him for a moment, looking conflicted.

"Goodness," Granger said. "I never in my life thought I’d be accepting help from you."

"Well, I never thought I’d be offering it.  This entire evening has been something I don’t care to repeat."  Realizing that their brief moment of truce was over, he nodded at them both, and made his way towards his room.  In the distance, he heard Weasley’s enraged voice.

"What was all that Latin about?!"

"Nothing, Ron."

"I can’t believe we just trusted him!"

"We had no choice!"

"Well, I hope he doesn’t just run off and act like the prick I’ve always thought he was!"

"Yeah," Hermione’s voice rang softly through the halls,  "Me too."

* * * *

Emily opened her eyes to find herself in a sea of blackness that enveloped her like a blanket.  She spun around, and still, she could see nothing.  Her heart rate, which was already well above normal, increased – her ears piqued, searching for some sort of sound.  All she heard were her own, shallow breaths.  Where am I, she wondered, standing still in the place she had Apparated to.  Her first instinct was to throw her hands in front of her and walk forward until she found a wall.  That way, I could follow it to a door and get out of here.  She brought her hands up, and started to gingerly walk forward, but she stopped again as she realized something else. Voldemort must be here.  She’d Apparated to him, and therefore he must be here with her.  As if on cue, she heard a throat clear and begin to speak.

"You’re prompt," the voice said from somewhere to the left of her.  She turned towards it, still only seeing darkness.  She squinted her eyes, thinking that perhaps they’d adjust faster.  But if there’s no light… "I didn’t expect you so quickly."

"I came as soon as you called, my Lord."

 

"I wasn’t sure you would," he responded smoothly.  She heard him move, his feet shuffling on the stone floor, coming towards her.  She stiffened.  "I’ve been watching you," he said.  He was right next to her, and she could feel his breath on the side of her face.  Oh, god!

"You have?" she asked, trying to sound casual.  Her voice, however, didn’t cooperate.  She instead sounded extremely small, like a little girl being interrogated by her parents.  "There was no need."

"Oh, I beg to differ," he hissed.  She swallowed hard, quickly debating whether she should just Apparate back to the headmaster’s office.  "Your behavior makes me question your loyalty."

"I assure you I have remained loyal, my lord," she lied, wondering how much he really knew.

"Have you?" he questioned.  She wished more than anything that she could see his face.  She felt suffocated by the darkness.  If she could see what he looked like, maybe she could call his bluff.  As it was, he definitely had the upper hand.  "I’ve been informed otherwise."

"What have I been accused of?"

"Why don’t you tell me?"

"I haven’t a clue.  I have done nothing that I feel would be against you, my lord," she responded weakly.  It took all her effort not to fall apart.

"You lie!" he bellowed, his bony hands grabbing her arm and swinging her around. She could now feel his breaths against her entire face.  Her body was frozen rigid, and she closed her eyes and leaned away from him.  I can’t seem frightened, she told herself.  I have to remain calm.  Using all of her courage, she twisted away from his grip, took a deep breath and…

"You know this for a fact?" she questioned, hoping she sounded threatening. She brought up her hand and lit a small ball of flames in it – effectively lightening the entire room.  She didn’t glance around to see where she was; she, instead, stared directly at the Dark Lord, whose red, snakelike eyes were dancing before her.  "Prove it!"

If he was jostled by her sudden change in demeanor, he didn’t outwardly show it.  He simply held her gaze.  And then, his lips curved up in what she suspected was an attempt at a smile.

"Your room is in the North wing," he responded. "You will remain there until you are instructed otherwise.  The door and windows are closed with wards and the space is impenetrable to Apparation, even for you.  I do not suggest attempting an escape."

"I would never attempt such a thing, my lord."  Is he buying it?  She couldn’t tell.

"Food will be brought to you, and I’ll have two of my servants outside the door should you require anything additional."

"Yes, my lord."

"Lucius is waiting for you in the hallway outside."  It was now that Emily glanced around the room, the light from the flame in her hand casting shadows along the stone walls.  To her right, she saw a door.

She bowed her head, every inch of her wanting to resist, and turned to leave.  But, he grabbed hold of her arm again, stopping her in her tracks.

"Don’t think that your little act has determined anything," he hissed, his voice cold as ice.  "You still have the same options as before.  You can make it easier on yourself, or harder.   He’s going to die either way."  He finally released her, pushing her forward like a discarded rag doll.  She took a few steps to steady herself, and then bowed her head to him again, whispering "Yes, Master," under her breath.

She quickly exited the room.

* * * *

Ron sat outside on the front steps of the castle, twirling his broom around and around.  He somehow felt that the repetitive windmills helped him relax.  A little.  He didn’t think anything could make him relax entirely.

Twirl. Harry’s been kidnapped….Twirl…By You-Know-Who…Twirl…Ginny’s there, too…Twirl…I’m voluntarily going to You-Know-Who’s castle…Twirl…We all might die… Twirl…Horrible and painful deaths. Twir—

Someone’s hand reached out and grabbed his broom mid-spin.  Ron leaned back, tilting his head to see Sirius standing above him, broom in hand.

"Nervous?" he asked, dropping Ron’s broom.

"No," Ron answered with a shrug, picking up his broom and resuming his twirling.  "Erm, maybe a little."

"Well, good.  Nothing like a good case of butterflies to keep you on your toes."  He sat down next to Ron, looking around. "Where’s Hermione?"

"She went to the kitchens to get some food."

"Ahh, always thinking," Sirius responded.  "She’d make a great Auror."  Ron looked over at Sirius.

"Auror?" he asked, dumfounded. "Hermione an Auror?"  He couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of it.

"Not a field Auror," Sirius explained, grinning to himself.  "One of the strategic analysts.  Sort of like what Lil, erm, Harry’s mum used to do."

"I didn’t know she was an Auror."

"Oh, she wasn’t.  She just did freelance work with them.  Basically an Auror, but on her own time."

"I guess Hermione could do that.  Though, I always imagined her as a librarian."  This made Sirius snort.

"How well do you know her?" he asked.  The question startled Ron. I think I know her pretty bloody well, thank you very much.  Sirius apparently sensed Ron’s reaction. "You, of course, know her better then I do.  But, do you really see her as a librarian?"  Sirius looked away absentmindedly onto the grounds. "From what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t like books because they’re books."

"She sure seems to like them to me."

"Oh, she likes books.  But, she likes them because they have answers and she can solve problems with them."  Ron thought about this, and with a pang, realized that Sirius was right.  Sirius, someone who had only met her a few times, had accurately assessed her better then he, her boyfriend, had. "Aaah, here come Mooney and Beth."  Ron looked up and saw two figures approaching.

"Beth?" Ron asked.

"Beth Temple, ex-Auror.  She was a chief investigator before she…retired.  Now, she’s been doing Death-Eater surveillance for Dumbledore." Sirius then dropped his voice "Bit of a hard ass though, I’d behave around her if I were you."  Ron swallowed.  "Hey, Mooney." Sirius paused, narrowing his eyes and nodding at the woman standing next to Lupin. "Beth," he grunted.  Ron looked back and forth between them and then focused on Beth.  She didn’t look old enough to have already retired. She looked about the same age as Sirius and Lupin.

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Black," she responded coldly.  She turned to look at Ron. "I thought that this was a rescue mission, not a babysitting club."  She thoroughly sized Ron up. "Albus must be losing his head in his old age," she muttered.

Just then, Hermione came through the front door, carrying a rucksack full of food.  She stopped when she saw Moony and his guest.

"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed, her face brightening at the sight of him.  "You’re here. And you," she turned to Beth, "must be Inspector Temple."

"Was Inspector Temple," Beth corrected.  "I’m not with the division any longer."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, bending over and grabbing her broom from next to Ron. "We should get started.  I figure You-Know-Who is going to be impatient now that he’s got Harry." As she spoke, she pulled the locator out of her pocket.  Ron glanced over at Beth, and saw that she was less then pleased.

"What is that toy you’ve got there?" she asked, observing Hermione with disgust.  Ron suddenly felt his veins flow with anger.  How dare anyone talk to Hermione like…

"This toy," Hermione began, using the same tone Beth had used with her, "Is a locating device I created.  It will help guide us to where they’ve taken Harry."

"And how is it supposed to do that?" Beth asked, her tone still hard and demeaning. "Last I knew, we hadn’t invented a charm strong enough to track a specific person."  Hermione shook her head, as if she was impatient with the ex-Auror.

"It uses a standard, dual locator coupling charm based on the theory developed by Repiri in the late 17^th century," she intoned dryly, sounding like an expert in the field of locator devises.

"And how is it going to get you to where Mr. Potter is?" Beth rephrased her question.

"Are you familiar with locator charms?" Hermione asked.

"Vaguely," Beth answered in a tone that Ron took to mean ‘not at all’.

"Well then, you’ll just have to take my word for it." She grinned. "Any more questions?"  Ron was amazed that she would speak to an adult like that, never mind an adult with a reputation for being a hard ass. 

"I like this one," Beth said to Sirius and Lupin.  "She’s got spunk."

"Smartest witch in all of Hogwarts," Lupin answered with a grin.  Hermione beamed.

"I was just updating Remus with the information we have about the activities of the Death Eaters for the past year.  I think he knows everything we’ve been able to gather, which is, unfortunately, not much.  My guess is that they took him to a location north of here, near the coast.  That’s where they’ve been sighted most frequently."  She looked at Remus.  "As I said, finding the castle is going to be hard, but getting inside will be even harder.  No Auror has ever been able to penetrate an establishment occupied by the Dark Lord himself."

"We know how to get in," Ron said, staring at Beth, who turned on him as soon as he spoke.  He was determined to show her that ‘babysitting’ wasn’t going to be necessary.

"Are these kids always this full of suprises?" she asked.  Sirius shrugged.

"They’ve got practice," he responded.  Beth shook her head, turning back to Lupin.

"All right then, all of the holes in the plan seem to have been filled by these two," she said. "I should be heading inside to meet with Albus.  Do try not to get yourselves killed."

"You’re not coming?" Ron asked.  He’d assumed she was.

"I’d be pretty useless to you if I did," she answered, looking as though admitting this was deeply painful.  "Now, hurry up and bring the Boy-Who-Lived back home safely."  Ron wanted to ask why she’d be useless, but before he knew it, she had wished them all good-luck and was walking up into the castle to speak with Dumbledore.

"She’s not coming?" Ron asked Hermione as soon as Beth disappeared behind the door.  He figured that, on a mission like this, the more the better.

"Dumbledore explained that in his office.  Weren’t you listening?"  He’d been too nervous to really pay attention to the details of what Dumbledore had said.  Hermione tutted when he didn’t respond. "Honestly Ron!  Not listening in class is bad enough, now you blank out during important meetings as well?  Did you hear anything the headmaster told us?"

"I got the gist."  Hermione shook her head again.  "Why wouldn’t she be useful?"

"I don’t know, Dumbledore didn’t say." At this point, Lupin leaned in, deciding to join the conversation.

"She was one of the best Aurors the division ever had, until she was hit with a nasty paralyzing charm a few years back," he explained.  "After months of therapy, she was able to move again, but she lost her magic in the process."

"She lost her magic?" Ron gasped, the thought of it making him shiver. 

"All of it," he answered. "Which is why she’s no longer an Auror.  It’s also why she’s working for Dumbledore.  Like me, she can’t get a decent job in the wizarding world.  And she was brought up a pureblood witch, so working with Muggles would be the equivalent of torture for her.  She was a great Auror, though after what happened, she can be rather unpleasant at times.  Would never admit it, but she’s jealous of those who still have their magic." 

"She was ‘unpleasant’ even before it happened," Sirius piped in, apparently joining the conversation as well.

"Oh, don’t listen to him," Lupin said with a dismissive wave in Sirius’ direction. "He’s just got something against her, started back when we were in school.  You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he had a little cru–"

"Moony, one more word out of you and –"

"And you’ll what?" Lupin asked, staring at Sirius for a moment before turning back to Ron and Hermione. "Just like he always was back in school.  All talk and no action."  Ron couldn’t help but snort.  Sirius Black? All talk and no action? Impossible!

"All right, Moony," Sirius said, bending over and grabbing his bag and broom.  He tossed a broom to Lupin, as well. "That’s enough Marauder talk. We’ve got a long night ahead of us."  The mood suddenly fell as everyone realized the full weight of this mission.  No one said anything, they simply started to walk out onto the grounds, brooms in hand, thinking about one thing:  How to save Ginny and Harry.

* * * *

Ginny opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkened room.  Slowly, the environment around her came into focus, and she quickly realized it wasn’t a room at all.  It was a cell, and a dirty cell at that.  She moved her arm from underneath her head and tried to push herself into a sitting position, but the movement instantly caused spikes of pain to shoot through her entire body.  She looked down at herself, and saw that her once white gown was now a muddy brown mess, with rips and occasional blotches of red.  Blood, she thought.  She reached up and ran her fingers across her face and jaw, both of which were still extremely tender.

Biting back against the pain, she managed to push herself onto her knees, and began to crawl over to the bars that made up the front wall of the cell.  As soon as she reached them, she collapsed, her face resting between two of the bars.  They felt cold, but she welcomed them.  The coldness numbed the aching in her jaw.

"Hello?" she cried, her voice coming out horse and strained.  She cleared her throat and tried again.  "Hello?"

"Ginny!" came an anxious voice from down the corridor.  "Ginny, you’re awake!"

"Harry?" she whimpered, painfully twisting around to try to look down the corridor.  All she saw were more bars.  "Harry, where are you?"

"I’m in the cell next to you," he called.  She could hear him moving around.  "Oh, thank Merlin you’re finally awake."

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"A few hours."

"Why didn’t they revive me?"

"They tried but couldn’t.  One of them said you were dead, but you were still breathing so…" he stopped talking, and she heard more movement in his cell.

"Where are we?"

"I don’t know.  I woke up a few moments before they threw us down here.  It’s some sort of castle."

Ginny tried to pick herself up off the ground, but winced in pain.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked.  She wanted to yell that she had never in her life felt this horribly but bit her tongue.

"I’m fine," she responded, but as soon as she spoke, she moved and winced again. 

"You don’t sound fine."

"I think that one of my ribs is broken," she answered, wrapping her arm around her chest.  She turned around, leaning her back against the bars.

"You put up quite a fight; I don’t think they were expecting that."  She grinned to herself, about to respond, but then there was a loud clanking noise from the corridor opposite from where Harry was.  Then, there were footsteps.  She listened to them stop just outside her cell.

"You’re awake," they said.  Ginny didn’t move.  She closed her eyes and tried to steel herself over.  She knew exactly who it was.  "How are you feeling?" He sounded concerned, but she wasn’t going to buy it.  She didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.  "Gin?"

"What do you care?" she snapped, turning even further away from him.  Unfortunately, as she did so, she winced.

"You’re hurt," he said.

"No shit," she spat.

"I’ll have someone make up a potion for you."

"I’d sooner drink my own blood before I’d accept a potion made by a Death Eater!"

He stood there for a while, and then he leaned down, such that she could feel his breaths close to her face.  "It wasn’t supposed to be like this," he said in a voice just above a whisper.  She grunted and turned her head away from him.  He sighed, and rose back up again.  "I’ll bring you something to drink then."

"Don’t bother, I’m not thirsty."

"You have to drink something."

"I don’t have to do anything," she responded.  "Just go away."  He didn’t move.  "I said, just go away!"  He continued to stand there, and then she heard his feet shuffle forward, towards Harry’s cell.  They exchanged a few terse words, and then he walked back past her cell, and she heard the clinking noise again as he exited the dungeons.

"You really should drink something," Harry said after several moments of silence.

"I’m not taking anything from him," she replied.  She was aware that tears were starting to stream down her face.  She wiped them away with the back of her hand. 

"He comes down every half-hour to check on you," said Harry.  "He was worried that—"

"Worried?" she barked, forcing a laugh that pierced her chest and made her cough.  "He’s a Death Eater, Harry; they don’t worry about anyone but themselves."

"You should still drink something.  And you’re in a lot of pain, maybe the potion wouldn’t be such a—"

"Why are you sympathizing with him?" she asked, cutting him off.  Why won’t he just drop it and let me wallow in my pain.

"I’m not sympathizing. You’re obviously hurt and refusing help is stubborn and…Ginny, just take the potion!"  She grunted, not in pain, but in frustration.

"Did you see him?" she scowled.  "When he turned on us?  Did you see his face?"  Harry didn’t say anything.  "Well, it was horrible.  Cold, hard, mad.  He’s one of them Harry. One. Of. THEM!"

"We don’t know why—"

"Does it matter?" she mumbled darkly.

"Voldemort, he," Harry paused, obviously trying to chose his words carefully.  "He preys on the weak-minded, and then he manipulates them."

"So."

"All Wood wanted was to be a star Quidditch player, and all he got was an offer as a reserve.  At Hogwarts, everyone idolized him, but out there, in the real world—"

"Harry, will you just get to the point already."

"Voldemort probably offered him something better then being a reserve player all his life, that’s all.  He probably didn’t even know what he was getting himself into."

"Harry, I dated a Death Eater.  Do you have the faintest idea what that feels like?"

"Actually…"

"Oh, right.  Well, not everyone’s like Emily.  She didn’t have a choice and—"

"She had a choice," Harry interrupted.  "She could have refused from the start and didn’t.  She was manipulated into thinking she didn’t have a choice, but all along she did.  The same thing could have happened to Oliver."  She thought about this for a moment, wondering when Harry had become so astute.  Harry could be right; Oliver could have been manipulated.  But it didn’t matter to her.

"He made the wrong choice," she said.

"Yeah, but," he dropped his voice considerably.  "Who cares? If he wants to help, let him.  We’re going to have to fight if we want to get out of here, and you’re in no condition for that.  If you don’t take the potion from him, you’re just going to make it that much more difficult when they come for us."

"When they come for us?" she asked, dropping her voice as well.  "But they don’t know where we are."

"Put your hand in your pocket," he instructed.

"Do what?" she whispered back, confused.

"Just do it.  Put your hand in your pocket."  She did.

"It’s empty."

"Other pocket, then."  Doubtfully, she shoved her hand into her other pocket, but this time, it wasn’t empty.  She allowed her fingers to curl around the small round object…

"I completely forgot!" she said, bringing the locator out and holding it in her hand.  She let it roll around her palm.  "Do you think they remembered?"

"Erm…I’m pretty sure Ron’ll figure it out."

"Ron?  Not Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ron was using it to…uh…never mind."

"How long will it take them to get here?"

"I have no clue, but we should be ready for them.  Hopefully they’ll be here soon."  Ginny was thinking about this, when suddenly she heard the clinking noise again, signaling Oliver’s return.  When he stopped in front of her cell, she saw that he was carrying a jug and had a bag under his arm.  He bent down, opening a small door in the bars and sliding the jug and bag through it.  As he moved to shut the door again, their eyes momentarily met.  But he looked away quickly, locking the little door and starting to walk off.

"Oliver!" she called.  He stopped walking but didn’t turn around.  "That….that potion you offered…is it…" she couldn’t manage to form the question she wanted to ask.

"I’ll see what I can do," he said, still not turning around.  "Where are you hurt, specifically?"

"My…my ribs mostly," she answered.

"Right," he acknowledged.   "The bag, the one I just gave you…" Ginny reached forward and took hold of it.  "There’s a change of clothes in there.  It will be warmer than what you have on."  She opened the drawstring and found a black cloak that wizards would usually wear around the house for comfort. 

She started to thank him, but as soon as she opened her mouth, he started to walk off and before she knew it, she heard the familiar clanking noise.  She slumped down against the bars, and pulled out the cloak.  She held it in her arms and then instinctively brought it to her nose.  With a pang, she realized it must have been his.  It smelled exactly like him.

HH   asdj

* * * *

After meeting his father, the two Malfoys had both traveled to their current location via the Floo network.  It had taken nearly an hour, but they were now standing before a large castle after having walked from a nearby Death Eater residence.  The entire trip had consisted of Lucius ranting about Draco’s failure to master Apparation and numerous comments snapping about his son’s "dim wits" and thoughtless waste of time.  Draco ignored him, his head swimming around what was happening.

His entire belief system had been thrown to the dragons the minute he’d taken Potter’s wand from Granger.  Or perhaps it was before then.  He wasn’t sure.   All he knew was that in the last twenty-four hours, he’d managed to cast aside every single ideal his father had ever taught him, and replaced it with…with what?  He didn’t know.  It was this fact that kept surging in the back of his mind. He didn’t care what happened to Potter.  He didn’t care if the Dark Lord finally got what he’d been pining after for the past fifteen years.  He didn’t care about anything. 

But, no, that wasn’t true.  He’d spent his entire life not caring about anything or anyone, except himself.  And now?  Now he was risking everything, even his life, to help Emily.  And if that meant helping Potter and going against the Dark Lord, well…

They’d entered the castle now, Draco following behind his father as he walked swiftly through the dark, stone hallways.  They came to a stop before a large wooden door that was guarded by two cloaked men, one of which was holding a tray of food.

"Is she still in there?" Lucius barked, staring down at the tray.

"Last we checked, yes," the man answered.  Draco didn’t recognize him as any of the usual Death Eaters that were found around the mansion during his summers at home.  The Dark Lord must be actively recruiting again.

Lucius reached forward and lifted the lid from the plate of food. "She didn’t eat?"

"No, sir."

"What is she doing in there?"

"We don’t know sir, she tried to hex us as soon as we opened the door."

"Moody little thing, isn’t she?" Lucius commented dryly.  He dropped the lid back onto the plate.  "Keep checking her periodically.  Let me know if there are any changes in her behavior."  Draco then watched as his father began to stalk off, but he didn’t move.  After a few steps, Lucius stopped and turned back to Draco. "Are you coming, boy?"

"Let me speak with her," Draco began. Lucius raised an eyebrow at him.  Thinking fast, Draco added, "I’ll try to calm her down.  Find out if all this speculation about her loyalty is based on anything concrete."  Lucius cackled.

"Do what you want.  Just, don’t get yourself killed, you’re my only heir."  He turned to the Death Eaters, "Direct him to my suite when he’s through with her."  And then, he walked off.

The guards performed a series of spells on the door and finally opened it just enough to allow Draco to slip inside.  As soon as he was through, the door slammed behind him.

Draco stepped into the room, and looked around.  The fireplace was lit, and in its light, he could see that she was curled up in a chair.  At the sound of his entrance, she looked up at him, but then looked back down again. 

He didn’t say anything to her, but instead started to meander around the room, allowing his mind to wander.  He didn’t know what to say to her.  It was one of the first times in his life that his ability to communicate had failed him. 

He walked to the left, circling around towards a door that led off the main room, which he found led to a small en-suite bathroom.  He then walked over towards the bed, which was untouched and perfectly made.  He periodically looked up to see if she was watching him.  She wasn’t.  She sat perfectly still, curled up in the armchair, facing the window.  Hesitantly, he walked past her, and leaned up against the windowpane.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she responded, her voice curt and distant.  "No, I’m not all right. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"Oh, so Voldie sent his liaison to see how his little weapon of destruction is doing?" She forced a laugh. "Well, you can go back and tell him I haven’t destroyed the room yet."

"I’ll be sure to give him the message," Draco responded sarcastically, looking down at his fingernails.  "Nobody sent me," he then admitted.

"Oh," she responded.  "Then why are you here?"

"Eh, I was bored," he replied lightly.  She didn’t react. "You hungry?" he asked, procuring a Chocolate Frog from the pocket of his cloak.  She looked at it and then looked up at him.

"Are you joking?" she asked.  He shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Come on, chocolate always makes people feel better." She narrowed her eyes at him but then looked back down at her hands.

 

"Well, I don’t think a little chocolate is going to help."  Draco took a deep breath.

"You just had to go and mess everything up, didn’t you?" he said.  This snapped her head back up to him.

"This was messed up way before I got here," she growled.

"Your father is going to be furious with you."  She didn’t respond, and he realized that she wouldn’t care.  In fact, she’d probably be glad.  They sat there in silence for a while, until he finally couldn’t take it anymore. "What’s wrong with you!" he spat, pushing off the windowpane and standing before her.  "You see this?" he asked, indicating the room.  "This is what you have to look forward to now: a locked room with two sentries at the door.  Is this what you want?"

"No, but it’s certainly better then the alternative!"  Draco walked forward, taking a seat in the chair opposite hers. 

"What happened?" he asked.  "I thought...I thought you were—"

"Well, I’m a good actress then, aren’t I?" 

"So all those nights, when you said you were studying, you were really off shagging Potter?"  As soon as he’d said it, he instantly knew he shouldn’t have.

"Is that why you’re here?" she asked, looking at him as though he were the scum of the earth. "To find out if I’m—"

"No," he interrupted, "I just want to know if everything was an act."

"Well, it was.  I thought you’d figured that out by now."

"Oh," he sighed, looking away from her.  As much as he didn’t want to be saddened by her answer, he was. 

"Don’t sound so glum," she responded, her voice dripping with nastiness.  "You guys will still get what you want.  Harry will be dead by dawn."

"Will you stop treating me like I’m one of them!" he growled, unable to stand the interaction they were having.

"Well, you are, aren’t you?  Why should I treat you otherwise?"

"I’m not a Death Eater."

"Not yet," she murmured. "You made it quite clear earlier in the evening how you feel.  And I’d just like to thank you for running off to your father and alerting –"

"I didn’t say a word!" he interrupted.  "You think I’m the one that told them?"  She held silent, which Draco took to mean, Yes.  "Well, I didn’t," he said.  She still didn’t respond. Giving up with his tactic of talking to her, Draco stood up and reached into his pocket, removing Harry’s wand.  "Here," he said, thrusting it in front of her.  "Harry’s going to need this."  She stared at it, but didn’t move. "Take it!"

"W-where did you get that?" she asked.

"What does it matter? Just take the bloody wand already!"

"But how –"

"Granger and Weasley felt he ‘needed’ to have it."

"Ron and Hermione?  When did you—"

"When I was on my way to warn you about how they already knew you were a traitor," he explained, his impatience evident in his tone.  "You’d already left."

"You were going to warn me?"

"Yes!" he barked, shoving the wand at her again, "Now will you just take the fucking wand!"  She hesitated but took it from him.

"Are they here?  Ron and Hermione?"  Her entire demeanor had changed, and Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, before responding.

"I don’t know."

"Do you know where Harry and Ginny are?"

"Down in the dungeons I suspect.  I won’t have access to them though, which is why I’m giving you the wand."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked abruptly.  Draco was silent.  Because you asked me for help, he thought, realizing he could never actually tell her that that was his reason.  But, she unexpectedly smiled, jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.  He didn’t know how to respond; he’d never once, in his entire life, been hugged like this before.  He just stood there with his arms at his side.  "You can hug me back, you know," she whispered in his ear. "It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone."

Hesitantly, he brought his arms up and wrapped them around her waist, relaxing into her. "Thank you so much, Draco," she said.

"You’re welcome," he answered back, starting to pull away from her.

"It wasn’t all an act you know," she said, bringing her hand up and brushing a lock of hair out of her face.

"Yeah, whatever, you don’t have to—"

"No, really," she said, bringing her hands up and placing them on his shoulders. "I would have completely lost my mind if it weren’t for you."  She was looking so serious that Draco couldn’t help but believe her.  She was looking at him, almost through him, in that same way she always did.  And then she stepped away from him, twirling Harry’s wand in her fingers. "Did they have any suggestions for how I’m supposed to get him his wand?" she asked. "I mean, I can’t even get out of this stupid room." She stopped, turned around, and started walking in the other direction. "Maybe you should keep it, see if you can get down to him before it happens."

"I’m going to be with my father for the rest of the evening.  I can’t risk him finding out about my involvement.  I’m not doing this for Potter."

"That’s fair.  You don’t really know him and–"

"Nor do I plan on knowing him."

"Right.  I’m sure he’ll be extremely put out when he finds out you’ve helped at all."  Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, what do you expect?  He hates you just as much as you hate him."

"Well good then.  My ultimate goal in life has been reached.  I can die a peaceful death."  She simply shook her head, but Draco quickly sobered. "Good luck," he said. "I don’t know what’s going to happen, so just be ready for anything."

"I will," she answered.

"And, I hope you find a way to save Potter."

"You do?"

"Yeah, well, Hogwarts just won’t be as much fun without him around to make fun of." And, I’d hate to see how miserable you’d be if anything happened to him.  She took a deep breath, and smiled.

* * * *

"What color is the indicator?" Lupin yelled over the flying wind.  Hermione looked down, and then steered her broom to the left a bit.  It was the middle of a moonless night, and they could only see about 10 meters ahead of them even though they were flying well above the forest below.  Hermione had originally protested about their high speed of flight, but as the night had drawn on, she, too, began to push faster, not wanting to think about what would happen if they got there too late.

"The red is getting brighter, we must be getting close," she yelled in return.  And then a few moments later, off in the distance…

"Look!" Sirius shouted, pointing at a large structure that loomed ahead of them.  She watched as the brightness on the horizon increased, and she made out the form of a castle with windows filled with the light of burning fireplaces.   They all slowed their brooms. "We should land and walk the rest of the way." 

After the four of them had successfully landed their brooms and stored them in a hollow tree trunk, Hermione took the lead, and they walked in the direction of the indicator.  It didn’t take them long to reach the castle.

"How do we get in?" Sirius asked, looking at Ron.  Ron took a deep breath, and Hermione hoped that Draco hadn’t given them false information.

"Around the eastern side, there’s a door.  We know the password."  Sirius didn’t seem to question Ron’s knowledge: he instead turned to Lupin.

"You going to stay here, Moony?" Sirius asked his friend. 

"Better odds that way, don’t you think?" Lupin asked.  Sirius nodded.  "I’ll send a message to Albus, and then I’ll wait out here.  Anything happens, send red sparks through one of the windows and into the sky."  Hermione saw Ron look over at her.  He seemed to be handling himself rather well, considering the circumstances.  He usually started to loose control at around now.

"Remind me why we wanted to come again?" he asked, leaning into her and lowering his voice so that Lupin and Sirius couldn’t hear him.   She smiled weakly and kissed his cheek.

"Because Harry’s our best friend, and Ginny’s your sister," she answered.  She took a deep breath and thrust her hand into her pocket and drew out her wand.  "Come on, let’s go."

Ron reluctantly followed and they cautiously headed around to the eastern side of the castle.  As Draco had said, a large door with a green and black knocker in the center of it sat in the eastern wall.  Sirius motioned for Hermione to proceed, and she walked up to the door and flicked her wand at the center of the knocker.

"Obitus!" 

The door instantly dropped vertically and disappeared into the floor, producing a large passageway on the other side.  Hermione heard Sirius take a deep breath before leading the group inside.  As soon as the three of them were within the walls of the castle, the door silently shot back up from the ground and barred their exit.  They were immediately thrown into blackness even darker then the moonless night they had just come from.

"Is it safe to light our wands?" Ron whispered.  Hermione couldn’t see a thing but knew that lighting her wand would create a beacon for Death Eaters to hone in to.

"Let your eyes adjust," Sirius said.  She heard him shuffle around a little before he added, "I’m going to transfigure--I have better vision that way."  Hermione couldn’t see him do it, but she could tell from the soft noises his paws were making on the stone floor that he had finished the transformation and had begun to walk up the passageway. 

They walked for a while, Hermione and Ron following Sirius in his animagus form.  He was much more aware of their surroundings, and would alert them when danger was near. Several times, they had to duck into the shadows as Death Eaters passed near them. Hermione kept a close watch on the indicator, and they seemed to be heading in the right direction, until…

"Wait," Hermione whispered, stopping in her tracks.  The indicator had suddenly started spinning frantically.  It would go in one direction, then the next, as if possessed.  Sirius stopped leading them forward, and doubled back to her side.

"What’s happening?" Ron asked, peering over her shoulder. 

"I don’t know," she responded.  She took a step forward, and the locator stopped spinning and pointed directly at her.  She took a step back, and it again started to spin out of control.  She took another step back, and it pointed ahead of her.  "I think," she began, stepping forward and to the right.  The indicator instantly started to point left.  She then leapt to the left, and the indicator settled pointing to the right.  "I think they’re either above or below us," she said.  Sirius instantly transformed.

"I’d say below," he said, peering over her shoulder as Ron was doing.  "They’ve probably got ’em in the dungeons."  They began to walk forward and soon found a spiral staircase that would take them below ground. 

Hermione crept forward, edging towards the end of the hallway and peeking around the corner.  She saw a tall figure walk out of the shadows, so she quickly jumped back, plastering herself against the wall.  He walked past, not even glancing in her direction.  She peeked around again and saw the passageway was now empty.

"It’s safe," she said, motioning with her hand for Ron and Sirius to follow.  The three of them walked swiftly up the passageway and came to a heavy iron door, which they pushed open, causing a loud clanking noise.  "This must be it," Hermione said under her breath as she looked around.  The passageway ahead of them was lined with heavy iron bars.

Sirius stepped forward and started walking up the passageway, looking in all the cells as he did so.  Ron and Hermione stood where they were, watching him go.  About half way down the hallway, he stopped, and quickly knelt down.

"Ginny!" he gasped.  Hermione instantly felt Ron run from her side, and she followed suit.  When they made it to Sirius, Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes. 

"Sirius!"  Ginny yelped, quickly jumping off the floor and running to the bars.  "You made it!"  While she was wearing clean robes, she looked worse then Hermione had ever seen her.  Her face was all swollen, her jaw heavily bruised and there were dark circles under her eyes. 

"Sirius?!" came another voice.  Hermione looked over, and saw the Harry was in the next cell over.  He, too, looked like he’d seen better days.  Hermione ran over to the bars of Harry’s cell.

"You okay?" she asked, trying to keep her voice down even though she was so excited to have found them.  He was still alive!  They were both still alive!

"Ginny was a lot worse off than I was," he said.  "She took a pain potion just before you came in, so she should be healing soon."

"A pain potion?" Hermione asked.  "How did you two possibly brew a pain potion?"

"Oliver got it for us."  Hermione gasped, and Harry leaned in closer to the bars, lowering his voice.  "You know he’s a Death Eater, right?" he asked.  Hermione nodded.  "Well, I don’t think taking Ginny was a part of the plan.  In fact, I’d bet my life on it."  Hermione didn’t like the sound of Harry betting his life on anything at the moment, but she chose not to comment on it.  "He’s been trying to make it up to her, but – I’ll tell you later.  We’ve got to get out of here before they come back.  Either Oliver or one of the other guards comes down here to check on us every few minutes."  Hermione nodded and returned to Ginny’s cell.  Sirius had managed to remove the wards on the bars and was attempting to unlock the lock.  After a few moments and frustrated gasps, Sirius stopped fiddling with it and looked over at Hermione.

"Any suggestions?" he asked, looking defeated.  Hermione wracked her brain, but she’d never come across magical methods of burglary in any of the books she’d read.  She could transfigure something into a key, but that wouldn’t work because she didn’t know what the key looked like.  She could blast the bars away, but that would likely get someone hurt in the process…

"What if we bend the bars?" Ron asked, walking over to the iron door and grabbing hold of two of the thick bars.

"They’re metal, Ron," Hermione said, watching him pull them with all his might.  Nothing was happening.  "You can’t just bend metal unless…" but she stopped, having heard a loud clinking noise from up the corridor.

* * * *

Emily was curled up, sleeping on the large armchair near the window, when she heard the door creek open.  She opened her eyes, willing herself to return to reality. 

"The Dark Lord requests your presence immediately," came a voice from the door.  Emily swung around and saw Lucius Malfoy. Next to him, stood Draco.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice coming out groggily.  She hadn’t been able to sleep for most of the night.

"Just after three," Lucius responded, standing stiffly at the door.  She brought up her hand and began to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

"Give me a minute, I’ll be right out," she said.  Lucius didn’t move.  "Fine, stand there," she grunted, getting up and out of her seat and walking into the attached bathroom, aware that Draco was watching her very closely as she padded across the room. 

As soon as she was closed in the bathroom, she placed Harry’s wand onto the sink and stared at it.  She’d been able to hide it at her side for those few moments when Lucius was in the room with her, but it would be impossible to hold her arm at her side for an extended period of time without arousing suspicion.  She looked down at her dress, and quickly realized it was useless for hiding the wand.  So, with a quick thought, she transfigured the dress into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  They were far more comfortable.  She tucked the wand into the front waistline of the jeans.  She’d have to be careful if she leaned over, but all in all, it would do.

Satisfied that the wand was well hidden from view, she splashed some water on her face to make it look like she’d been washing up, and then padded back into the room, walking over to the armchair again.  Bending down, she grabbed a hold of her black shoes and quickly transfigured them into clogs, which she slipped onto her feet.

"Are you ready?" came Lucius’s voice again.  Reluctantly, Emily walked towards the door and grudgingly followed them out of the room.

Draco and Emily fell into step behind Lucius, but they didn’t speak.  She wanted to telepathically ask him if he knew what was going on but thought that the shock of hearing her voice in his head would be too much to handle.  She decided, instead, on monitoring his thoughts, though his mind was surprisingly vacant.

"Did you sleep well?" Draco suddenly asked.  She turned her head to look at him, and frowned.

"Not really," she replied.  His mind had suddenly come to life, but his thoughts were so twisted and confused, she couldn’t make them out.  "You?"

"I…" he paused, slowing down his pace a bit, increasing the distance between them and his father.  "I kept having this dream," he said, loud enough so that his father had obviously heard him.

"A dream?" she asked, trying to figure out what he was doing.  She could tell he wanted to tell her something.  But what?

"Yeah, a dream," he said offhandedly, watching the back of his father closely.  Then, suddenly, he leaned in very close to her and began to whisper.  "They broke into the dungeons last night and were caught.  All the prominent Death Eaters have been called to the castle and--"  He then quickly straightened back up again, just in time for his father to glance behind at them.

"Hurry along," Lucius barked. "Our master is impatient."  They obeyed, immediately quickening their steps until they were just behind Lucius.  Draco didn’t try to tell her anything else after that.

They soon found themselves standing outside a very large door, and when Lucius opened it, Emily was surprised to see so many people inside.  She’d expected only the Dark Lord, and to see him surrounded by a semicircle of death eaters was a bit of a shock.  As she stepped into the room, she was also suddenly aware of several people being restrained off to the side.  Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Sirius and….

As much as Emily wanted to look at Harry, she merely glanced in his direction and then quickly faced forward again.  She had to appear cold and distant.  She had to keep the appearance of a loyal Death Eater. 

In the middle of the room, Lucius stopped walking and bowed his head to Voldemort.  "The Emerald Dragon, my lord," he spoke, as if it was his great pleasure to be presenting her to him.  With his task completed, Lucius took hold of Draco’s arm and walked to a spot at the right of Voldemort.  Emily was now standing in the center of the room, alone.

"Come forward," Voldemort spoke, his voice seeping into her.  She immediately felt her muscles respond, and realized he was commanding her to do so.  She tried to resist, to hold her ground, but it didn’t work.  After three of four steps, her feet stopped moving forward and she dropped to her knees.  She knew exactly what he was doing.  He was trying to show her that she had no power over his commands.  He knew she’d try to resist, and this was his way of showing her that she couldn’t. 

"What’s all this?" she asked, motioning towards the room and all the people standing in it.  She needed to calm herself down, and perhaps a little small talk would give her time to think.

"The culmination of 15 years of planning," Voldemort answered.

"I see," she replied, looking around.  She instantly spotted her father standing next to the dark lord.  "Hello, father," she said.  He nodded at her, not saying a word.

"Are you here as a loyal servant?" Voldemort asked, apparently wanting to get things started.

"Yes, my lord," she responded.  While she had intended to answer as such, the words had flown from her with such urgency that she suspected that Voldemort had somehow forced her to do it.  She shifted a bit, moving her legs, which were starting to feel rather weak.  As she did so, she felt Harry’s wand brush against the skin of her stomach. 

"You’ll have to excuse my impatience," he spoke, his voice gliding out of his mouth like water.  "I had intended to wait until noon to have a formal ceremony, but as it is, our location is not as hidden as I’d hoped.  We don’t want the boy to escape, now do we?"  She could almost feel the hatred radiating from him, but she gathered herself, trying to clear her thoughts.

"No, my lord," she answered. 

"Bring the boy forward," Voldemort commanded of his servants in the back.  Emily could hear feet shuffling behind her.  She didn’t turn around, but instead kept a steady gaze on the Dark Lord.  "The sword," he murmured, reaching his hand to his left.  She watched as her father produced a large, silver sword with an elaborate hilt and handed it over to Voldemort.  A sword? She wondered. 

She could hear the feet behind her stop moving, and guessed that Harry was only a few feet behind her.  She ached to speak to him telepathically, but was afraid that Voldemort would somehow be able to intercept her message. 

She had no clue what she was going to do, but she had to think fast.  Voldemort was moving toward her now, the sword clasped in his scaly hands.  He stopped before her, and motioned for her to rise.  She did so without thought.

"I will give you a choice," he began.  "You can finish him yourself, using this sword, proving to me that you are, in fact, a loyal Death Eater."  He paused, a malicious grin spreading across his unnatural face.  "Or you can refuse, and I’ll order you to destroy him anyway."  Emily’s head swam, so much so that she could hardly hear him speaking.  She couldn’t let him order her to do it, but she didn’t know how to stop it.  She started to think back to what Dumbledore had said in his office. Harry and Voldemort were in the same room together, but she was still there.  Why am I needed to get him to where he needs to be? She wondered.  She heard the headmaster’s words playing over in her head. "When the time is right, you will know".  Was the time right?  She hadn’t a clue. But, she knew there wasn’t going to be much more time once Voldemort commanded her to destroy Harry.  She felt her breaths quicken, and no matter how much she tried to calm herself, she couldn’t.  She shook her head, trying to listen to what Voldemort was saying.  "I can easily order it, you know," he murmured, his voice just audible for her to hear.  "As you’ve seen me demonstrate, I have more control over your actions then you yourself.  It’s the beauty of the spell; create something with the utmost concentration of power, and yet, have complete control over it until death." He was looking at her as though the possibilities were flashing across his mind, but she simply smiled in return. 

"Very well then," she spoke, reaching out her hand for the sword.  She heard someone yell from behind her, most likely Hermione, but she paid them no heed.  The answer was suddenly clear.

Voldemort hesitated for a moment before handing over the sword.  As soon as her hand was firmly clasped around its hilt, he released it and took several steps back, crossing his hands over his chest, and nodding for her to proceed.

She turned her back to him, and for the first time looked at Harry.  He was being held by two Death Eaters, not even bothering to resist.  Their eyes immediately met, and even without delving into his thoughts, she could tell that he was confused.  She wanted to tell him not to worry, to stay calm, it would be quick.  But she didn’t.

Instead, she brought the sword up, and, as hard as she could, stabbed it cleanly through her heart.

* * * *

"No!" Harry screamed, aware that several other people in the room had done the same.  "Oh god, Emily!"  He pulled against the grip of the two Death Eaters that were holding him in place.  It was all happening in slow motion, like a dramatic reenactment he was being forced to watch against his will.  She wrenched the sword from her chest, releasing her grip on the hilt and letting the weapon clatter to the ground, the noise of the metal as it hit the stone reverberating throughout the room.  She stared at her bloody hands, and she staggered a bit as she looked down and saw that the front of her shirt was entirely red.  She staggered again, at which point her eyes flashed up and met his.

Kill him, her voice echoed weakly through his head.  And then, her legs gave way and she crashed to the ground.

"Emily!" Harry screamed again, turning on the two men that held him.  With a shove of his arms, he sent both of them flying back against the stone floor.  He didn’t stop to wonder where the extra power had come from, but instead twisted around and ran over to Emily’s side. "Emily!" he repeated, sliding down onto his knees.  He grabbed her around the shoulders, lifting her from the ground.  "Emily, say something!"  Her head flopped back and hung lifelessly from her shoulders.  "What were you thinking!" he scolded, "Just wake up, please, open your eyes.  Emily!"  He pulled her into him, hugging her as if he could somehow press some of his life into her.  "Emily, please," he whimpered.  He clamped his eyes shut, "Please don’t leave me."

And then, he heard the clapping.  One person’s solitary beat.  Clap. Clap. Clap.  Harry kept his eyes shut, still clasping at Emily’s body.  Clap.  Clap.  He knew exactly whom it was coming from. Clap.  Only one person could be so heartless. Clap. Clap.

Harry released Emily’s body from his embrace, slowly and gently laying her against the cold, stone floor. Clap. 

"Are you happy now?" Harry growled, still leaning over Emily.

"She was worth more to me alive," Voldemort responded.  His clapping ceased.

"You killed her," Harry choked out.

"Silly girl.  She went and killed herself. And for what?  Love?  It certainly wasn’t to save your miserable life.  Either way, you’re still going to die."  Harry clenched his fists, trying to control himself.  Every inch of him wanted to attack Voldemort with his bare hands, to make him pay for all the pain he’d caused.  But, that wasn’t going to accomplish anything except get everyone else in the room killed along with him.  There was nothing he could do without his…

And then, he saw it.  He was leaning over Emily, and somehow, it caught his eye.  Her shirt had flipped up a bit as she’d fallen, exposing part of her stomach.  Sticking up from the waistline of her pants, pressing against her stomach, was a wand.  But not just any wand.  He’d recognize the hilt of this wand anywhere.  It was his wand.

"It’s rather pathetic when you think about it, really.  Selfish in fact…" Voldemort continued speaking, but Harry wasn’t listening.  He was focused on his wand.  If he could grab it and turn on Voldemort fast enough, he stood a chance.  He could get his revenge.

As discreetly as he could, he bent down and hugged Emily, blocking from view his right hand, which he brought up to grab his wand.  As his fingers brushed against her stomach, he was shocked by how cold she already felt.  He leaned over her, and kissed her forehead for one last time. I love you.

And with that last thought, he leapt to his feet, twisting around, his wand outstretched before him.  Voldemort had been ranting to the group that whole time, and when he caught sight of Harry, he froze in place, stopping mid-sentence.

In the next two moments, the world stopped.  Harry’s eyes were locked with Voldemort's.  Green on red, red on green.  Of all the moments in Harry’s life, this was the only one that mattered.  It was his birthright--the reason his parents were dead, and the reason Emily was now dead.  It was his one chance to finish everything.

Harry found the words flowing out of his mouth without thought, the energy surging up from within him, his entire body lunging forward. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried.  Never in his life had he uttered those words.  He nearly expected nothing to happen, but something did.  A huge cascade of green shot out of his wand, sailing directly towards his target.  But, to his astonishment, the same thing happened with Voldemort’s wand as well. 

His instincts took over and he leapt to the side, throwing his body to the ground.  The momentum of his jump caused him to slide across the floor several meters, his eyes clamped shut and his arms up over his head.

Everything was silent when he came to a stop, not even a peep.  Am I dead? He wondered.  But then, he realized his cheek was lying flat against the cold floor.  I can’t be dead, he thought.  He swung around, his wand at the ready, expecting to see Voldemort preparing an attack, but what he saw caused him to jump immediately to his feet.

"Where’d he go?" Harry shouted, whipping his head around and looking at all the other people that stood around the perimeter of the room.  His echo was the only answer.  He ran forward, standing in the spot where Voldemort had been standing.  Nothing was there.  "Where’d he go?" he screamed again.

"Harry! Watch out!" Ron yelled.  Harry swung around and saw that one of the Death Eaters had raised his wand and was approaching him.  He quickly pointed his wand at the approaching form and disarmed him, catching the wand as it flew into the air.

And then, it was chaos.  Everyone erupted into battle, wands blazing, sparks flying.  Unable to think about what had happened to Voldemort, Harry started fighting.  His initial response was to try to disarm everyone.  He noticed that Ron, Ginny, and Hermione seemed to be doing the same and that Sirius was the only one throwing curses.  From the corner of his eye, he saw a Death Eater coming at him.  He ducked out of his reach, spun around and yelled "Petrificus Totalus!"  The man’s arms immediately clasped to his side and he fell over, body stiff as a board.  Jumping over him, Harry rushed to Hermione and Ginny, who were back to back, fighting off three Death Eaters.  At his approach, two of the Death Eaters spun around, and Hermione took their momentary lack of concentration and stunned them.  The other one turned on Harry, throwing a curse that grazed his arm and left a gash in its wake.  Ginny leapt forward at that moment, grabbing the Death Eater, causing the both of them to crash to the ground.  Ginny quickly rolled away, and Hermione disarmed and stunned him.

"We have to get out of here!" Hermione yelled, helping Ginny to her feet.  Ron was on the other side of the room, near Sirius.  "We can’t possibly fight them all!" The three of them hurried over to Ron, grabbing him and throwing him away from the path of a curse.

"Ron!" Harry yelled. "Take them and get out of the castle!"  A Death Eater leapt at them, but they dodged the flying form.  "Now!"

Ron nodded, turning to leave.  But a moment later, he turned back around and very quickly removed something from his pocket and shoved it at Harry.  "Ginny’s got the other one, use it to find us."  Harry looked down into his hand and saw the locater.  Ron quickly ran away, grabbing Ginny and Hermione and running towards the door.  The three of them quickly ducked behind it only to be followed by two Death Eaters.  They can handle themselves, Harry thought, returning to the task at hand.  He turned around, realizing there were still several Death Eaters, most of which were fighting Sirius. If he’d had more time, he would have taken a moment to marvel at Sirius’ grace, but as it was, several of the opponents had already turned their attention towards Harry.

He threw shot after shot, literally spitting out every single curse he had ever learned.  His wand was flying about, and he was amazed at the accuracy of his shots.  He’d never in his life been in a combat situation neither like this nor anything even remotely close.  And yet, his body just seemed to know what to do. He was dodging and leaping, swinging and pointing.  He wasn’t even thinking, he was just reacting.

He fought off the steady stream of Death Eaters, trying to stun or slow as many as he could while receiving only minor cuts and slashes from misjudged attempts on his life.  Several of them had started to flee, running from the room as Sirius or Harry continued to throw curses after them. 

It took several moments for Harry to make it to his godfather, and as soon as he was close enough, he signaled to him that they had to get out of there.

"Harry, go!" Sirius yelled, throwing an elaborate paralyzing charm at one of the Death Eaters.  Harry continued to fight.  "I said get out of here!"  Harry glanced at the place where Emily had been laying and with a jolt realized that she was gone.  Maneuvering away from an attack by a very short, round Death Eater, Harry quickly scanned the room.  Near the door, he spotted Draco, Emily haphazardly slung over his shoulder.

"What about you!" Harry shouted, trying to keep an eye on Draco while at the same time fighting off all the wizards.  He was aware that he was very much outnumbered, and that if he didn’t make a run for it soon, he’d be dead.

"I’ve got an idea, get out of the room and I’ll take care of them!"

"There are at least ten of them—"

"I’ll be fine, just get out of here!"  Harry reluctantly glanced over at his godfather, and then began to run after Draco, who had made it through the door moments earlier.  He haphazardly dodged Death Eaters as he sprinted, hoping they wouldn’t realize he was getting away. 

He ran blindly into the hallway, stopping to look up and down it.  To his left, he just barely caught a glimpse of Draco as he rounded the corner.  He turned to follow, but as soon as he took a step, a loud explosion shot from the room.  Dust and stone came flying into the hallway, throwing him up against the opposite wall.  Along with the blast came a large billow of smoke.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, putting his arms up to shield his face.  The hallway was full of dark, black smoke, and he couldn’t see a thing.  "Si-," he tried to yell again, but the smoke overcame him and he fell into a spasm of coughing. 

* * *

After the fighting had erupted, Draco had found himself blankly staring at the scene playing out before his eyes.  His father had immediately leapt into action, fighting along side his fellow servants.  But Draco couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He was still in shock; still reeling after what he’d seen.  Emily was dead.  She’d killed herself.

And then, he’d heard a voice in his head.  It was faint at first--so faint that Draco himself hadn’t really noticed it.  But it kept getting louder, stronger.  It was familiar, very familiar in fact.  It almost sounded like…but that was impossible.  He was losing his mind, but it was the only explanation.  No.  Emily was dead.  She’d killed herself.

And so he ignored it; ignored it until the voice verged on yelling.  It was so loud that it drowned out the noise of the room.  It was her voice; he’d recognize it anywhere.  She was screaming, repeating the same sentence over and over again.

Draco can you hear me! Draco can you hear me! Draco can you…

He’d shaken his head several times, trying to clear it.  Emily is dead! he screamed to himself, She killed herself.

I’m not dead Draco! Now move your ass over here and get me up off the fucking floor!

He froze in place.  "Emily?" he said aloud, thinking that if he ever got out of here, it would be in a magical straight jacket on his way to St. Mungo’s.  He looked to where she had been lying before, and to his astonishment, saw that she was…but it was impossible. She couldn’t be moving. You’re dead!  You killed--

Draco, NOW! she screamed in his head.  He stood his ground for all of a second before running over to her.  She was still covered in blood, looking as dead as she had before. But when he touched her, her hand rose up and she grabbed his arm.  ‘Bout time you lazy asshole.  How long were you going to ignore me? He was stunned. 

"Y-you’re alive?" he stammered out.

Why don’t you go ahead and announce it to the entire room, Draco.  Her eyes were closed and she looked dead.  She should have been dead.  He’d watched her stab the sword right through her…

"B-but-" he began.

Draco, listen to me, she’d said, her voice softer then it was before. I can’t explain at the moment.  Right now, you have to pick me up, and get me out of here. 

He blinked several times, and then he picked up her limp body, slung her over his back, and started to head for the door, weaving through the battle.  It was a miracle they hadn’t gotten caught by any mis-aimed curses, and within moments, they were hurrying down the hallway.

What happened to Voldemort? her voice asked in his head.

"He disappeared," Draco answered, huffing under the strain of practically running while supporting a person on his back.  "Potter tried to AK him and he disappeared."

Is he dead?

"I don’t know, he just disappeared."  He felt her move a little as he carried her, her arm coming into contact with his skin. "You’re cold," he observed, repositioning her on his shoulder and continuing to hurry as fast as he could down the dark hallway.

You try stabbing a sword through your heart and see how you feel! she retorted, her annoyed voice returning. 

They turned the corner at the end of the hallway, and suddenly there was a loud explosion  behind them.  Draco stopped and slowly twisted around to see what had happened. 

"Harry!" she tried to scream, her voice coming out in a horse gasp.  She started coughing, her entire body heaving so much that Draco almost dropped her. 

"We can’t go back," he responded, turning around and heading back on the course he had followed before the blast.  Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the smoke billowing down the hallway after them.

Draco, we have to go get him.

"We aren’t doing anything.  I’m going to get you out of—"

"We have to!" she screamed, again collapsing into a fit of gasps and coughs.  Draco could tell it wasn’t from the smoke: it hadn’t reached them yet.  She was coughing because of the condition she was in.  The condition she put herself in.  "Please," she said, coughing again. "Draco, please."

He stopped hurrying, and looked around. There was a door to his left, and he quickly walked over to it and pushed it open.  As soon as he was inside, he slid her off his shoulder and put her gently on the floor, propping her up against the wall.  She was breathing shallowly, but at a regular rate, and her eyes were now open, though just barely.  She was sweating profusely, so much so that her hair was plastered to her forehead. And yet, despite the sweat, she still felt colder then any living person he had ever touched. 

"You owe me for this," he barked.  And then, before he had time to rethink his actions, he closed her in the room and ran off into the sea of black smoke.