Come Hither

Chapter 15

Malfoy Manor

Harry whipped the Invisibility Cloak off and his head zapped around fervently as his breath heaved in panic in the cool air. Where were Ron and Hermione? They were supposed to be beside him.

It looked like he was on a private land; there were no other immediate structures for almost as far as he could see. In the midnight darkness, it was hard to discern anything at the moment. He looked back at the smooth stone path that was leading up to the grand mansion that was Malfoy Manor, its enormity eerily shrouded by black shadows.

Harry's heart was already on overdrive at realizing his friends weren't anywhere to be seen, and now he had to go against that all on his own? He immediately started to regret how independent he was acting the whole time when they were sneaking up to the Malfoys. He should have known his selfishness would come back to bite him in the arse very soon. And here it was. He was scared beyond his wits and stranded in the middle of Merlin knew where. Where was Malfoy Manor? And if what Dumbledore said were right, that this mansion was Unplottable, then he was royally screwed; nobody would find him.

Merlin, he had actually done this. He had gone from the Hogwarts grounds to the unpredictable vastness of open Europe. Eyes wide, taking in foreign surroundings, Harry stepped slowly across the gates, his fingers bumping on each of the black railings as we went. What was he to do now?

Wait. Why did the Portkey put him here, assuming Malfoy and his wife were already deposited inside the Manor? Maybe only Malfoys or purebloods were allowed to do so. He stared longingly at the mansion. Draco was in there, being tortured, or raped, or whatever else Voldemort was capable of. Harry shook his head, refusing the disturbing images any attention. He couldn't think like this. He shouldn't allow- he heard footsteps. Harry stilled, heart stuck in his throat, panic rushing blood furiously through his ears, every limb categorically stunned.

"Don't be daft, Rockwood! Voldemort will reward me! Ha-ha, he promised me a taste of that sweet thing, the prince of the manor himself! Yes, I must say I've been looking forward to tonight for a very long time! Always wanted to wipe that smug smirk off that Lucius Malfoy. This will do just about that!"

His emeralds vacant, unable to believe what he was hearing from the approaching, rather obtrusive voice, Harry just stood, trying to wrap his head around it all. The footsteps were shuffling closer, and Harry could hear another, less crass voice - this Rockwood, probably. Harry instantly took his Invisibility Cloak and flung it around himself. He carefully crouched to the furthest side of the gate, his shuffling feet on the ground barely audible through the rushing blood in his ears. He lodged a good distance from the middle of the gate and stared on in front of him, trying to see who was coming. He only realized his mouth was gaping when it became dry and he had to swallow very hard to get some moisture going again.

God, they're talking about Draco like that! Harry thought, finding that gruff, growling voice was so indulgent, it was disgusting; how can a man think of an innocent schoolboy like that? Didn't he have a wife? At least be a straight paedophile, for bloody sake! Why was Draco attracting men? The wrong sort of attention? It was making him suffer! Looks weren't meant to make one suffer, they were meant to garner one girls and popularity, not this unthinkable, devious lust from men three times one's age!

With a shaky breath, Harry squinted into the ground before him as he heard the two footsteps drawing closer. Finally, he saw two figures in dark robes approach the gates in quick steps. The tall one was looking more urgent than this shorter companion was, although both were marching quite briskly. The two, cloaked figures reached the Malfoy gate and stood in front of it. Harry watched as they touched their wrists to the black iron railings and immediately, the large gate opened in a slow, eerily soundless, graceful arc. Spontaneity accosting him unawares, Harry went forward and, minding the opening gates, crossed the threshold, feeling his fear quadruple in his chest as soon as he stepped over its invisible line, over into the property of the Malfoys'. He followed the two figures in a crouch from a safe distance behind.

These were Death Eaters. He found himself in their presence once again. Followers of Voldemort, indiscriminately malevolent, heartless to the core, if they had a core. They didn't discern from life and death, they took life and placed death in its place. It was their daily charge, it was their daily bread, and with gruesome pleasure, they ate it - Death Eaters.

Harry wished his Invisibility could cover the whole of Hogwarts; now it seemed smaller, lighter, weaker, less invincible, less reverent. He was standing mere yards away from Voldemort himself! His mind half-engaging in his motion and half-absent, he followed Rockwood and the taller, bigger man to the looming edifice ahead. He thought he smelled wet dog from the taller Death Eater - a poignant, thick, repugnant odour. Argh!

It then hit him. A short blip in his mind set off at this. He had seen, or heard, or mentioned, or experienced this smell somewhere, or whatever reminded him of that smell. Where did he smell it before, if he ever did? Harry gripped harder and harder onto his Invisibility Cloak the closer he came to the ever-growing mansion. On each side of the smooth stone way they travelled along, he could catch a glimpse of a vast sea of various flowers and more grass with looming walls behind it all; 'This place is huge!'

He made sure to keep his footsteps as light and soundless as possible. His heart was beating monstrously against his chest and his adrenaline was settling at the bottom of his veins, making him jumpy and edgy in this relatively calm hiatus.

"So have you good news for the Dark Lord?" Harry heard the shorter Death Eater ask.

The taller Death Eater seemed to rustle uncomfortably at this. "Of course I do!" he yelled into the night in a raspy voice. "What do you think I am? Suicidal! The Dark Lord's already agitated as it is by that whole Malfoy clan. Do you think I'd come back only to upset him even more? It would be the last of me!"

"...Can't say that's not a right shame to hear."

The taller Death Eater growled and seemed to want to pounce on Rockwood, but he looked to restrain himself and then grunted loudly before quickening his steps forward. Rockwood also hurried his steps behind him. Harry, too, quickened his pace just a little and followed them soundlessly to the manor.

***

"My Lord, it was my plan to get closer to the Potter boy, not to betray you - I wouldn't dare." Lucius kisses the hem of Voldemort's robes, seeking to be absolved for the sake of his family. Nagini hisses and flicks her tongue out dangerously at his bending form.

Voldemort remains silent for a moment. Then, he just hisses, "Take your seat, Lucius."

Lucius' swift but almost stilted strides take him to the other end of the long, mahogany dining table. He sits down in the furthest seat from Voldemort, next to his wife, Narcissa, on his left.

There's stunning silence in the room. It is tense, dangerous, and edgy. The other Death Eaters assembled on each side of the table make small movements that attest to their discomfort.

Voldemort's red slits were boring into Lucius from the other end of the table. A malevolent smile curves his lipless mouth. "You lie, Lucius, Lord Voldemort always knows."

Blue light from Voldemort's wand issues and hits Narcissa Malfoy. She gives a terrified shriek as her body is slowly lifted from her chair. She tries to fight off the invisible ropes that were binding her. Her face is contorted with absolute fear. She flails her legs and her expensive Wuchoutzi® designer shoes fly off her feet as she is transferred from her seat and onto the centre of the table. The Death Eaters leer all around at this. Narcissa's hands fight and flail in mid-air, and her feet dance and twitch, but she can't do anything to the force that pressed her down against the middle of the table, her hands pressed to her sides and her legs spread apart.

Lucius' stoic countenance remains while the eyes of Death Eaters around him seemed to gleam coldly down at the inviting figure on the table.

Voldemort gives a sadistic grin. "I'm terribly disappointed, Lucius. You've been a most useful and impressive servant thus far, and have been loyal to me for so long. It's a shame you've come to this... demoting juncture." Voldemort kisses the cool scales of Nagini.

The great doors of the manor open and shuffling, urgent feet can be heard. Lucius' eyes sweep to the two, cloaked figures that come into the room. The two approach Voldemort and bow lowly on either sides of him.

"My Lord," the two intone together.

"Rockwood, Fenrir, welcome. Take your seats." Voldemort's lipless mouth does an atrocity of a sneer as his red, gleaming slits watch that Fenrir went over to take his seat amongst the others as though he were one of their kind. "Fenrir, I trust your mission went well?" It isn't a question, not even a threat, far beyond a threat.

Fenrir obtrusively sits up again in respect and bows his head as he replies. "Yes, my Lord, it did! The other werewolves are with us! They will listen to you, my Lord! I think we had a spy in the pack; that Lupin character was always a little bit dodgy! I went after him but he managed to escape me! But I got a good swipe of him before he got away!" The man gives a disgustingly satisfied, malevolent grin gleaming with blood-stained yellow teeth. "But, my Lord, may nothing perturb you - you command their loyalty for the big event and beyond!"

Voldemort gives an infinitely satisfied grin at as though he were hearing a delightful melody. "Excellent," he hisses. He kisses Nagini again and then inhales slightly, his slit nostrils flaring slightly. "Rockwood."

The tall figure, close to Lucius' right, bows his head, and the sedateness of this gesture serves to highlight Greyback's natural and boisterous crassness in this type of refined situations. "My Lord, the giants have swayed our way. That useless oaf, Hagrid, had tried to gain their trust for old Dumbledore's side, but we managed to fend him off in the end. The giants will definitively fight for us, my Lord."

Voldemort runs his long, pale spidery hands across the thick body of his familiar, caressing it lovingly like Harry would his Firebolt, and he maintains his cold grin. "That excuse of a giant, Hagrid, is still there, and as fiercely and foolishly loyal to that champion of commoners as always. How would he find to have his own cousins crush him with their very feet...? ...I remember Rubeus Hagrid... quite vividly, in fact. It is a shame, a priceless shame, indeed..." He smiles again. "Nott, do tell us your findings, they are sure to be interesting."

The slightly large man, two seats from Rockwood, prepares to reply. He looks to be one of the more pompous of the Death Eaters. "My lord," Nott senior says as he bows his head, "My son Theodore has reported to me that he has seen the Potter boy coming and going to Dumbledore's office quite frequently these days. He had seen him start to do this from two weeks ago. Potter has been receiving messages from Dumbledore as well. He said his fellow Housemates had tried to find out what was in the messages but they were always blank and Dumbledore always sent them to Potter with random people, Slytherins even." Nott turns a cold smirk at Lucius, and the atmosphere seems to quiver instantaneously. "When a group of his Housemates had asked Draco to lift the concealment charms on the letter, since he's the brightest student in their House, he apparently didn't oblige."

Lucius continued to stair blankly at the air in front of him.

Voldemort turns his head minutely to him. A small smile plays on his mouth before looking down at the incarcerated figure of Narcissa Malfoy on the table. "Continue, Nott," he hisses softly, a soft, indecipherable undercurrent stirred within his cold, high-pitched voice.

Nott's smirk lingers as he puffs out his chest, only too glad to do so. "Only two days ago, on Saturday, did he see Potter again, but this time, the boy was with Draco. Cozy, they were, he said. The boys had held onto each other closely in the very same hallway, wiping each other's tears off." Nott's voice could hold a thousand barrels of smug spitefulness so saturated it was with it.

Again, Voldemort says nothing, he doesn't even look in Lucius' direction, but a grin was stretching on his face, as though this was music to his ears.

Lucius remains impassive at the other Death Eaters' looks and evil smiles and smirks coming his way - his grey eyes remain dispassionate and the pale face stays blank.

Then, there's a suspicious sound, a sort of breathy sound, like a sharp intake of breath.

Voldemort's grin only widens for some reason.

Lucius' eye darts suspiciously to each face to try to figure out who had made that sound.

Nott, in the same satisfied, smug vein, continues: "Potter's latest sighting was only tonight. He was walking away from Dumbledore's office to the Gryffindor common room, supposedly. But then, he came back out and, oh, did he have a serious face on him. Determined, he was. Ran down the corridor with his friends and followed the Malfoys to the gate under his Invisibility Cloak..." Nott is smiling widely as though he had won the wingoz.

Voldemort then hisses as he takes in an indulgently breath. "So, we have an unannounced guest with us tonight."

Voldemort stares fixedly at a spot on the floor a few yards from the table. A malevolent smile and a sweet hiss utter,

"Do join us, Harry."