Like the Roses

Chapter Two: Deceptions

Draco rolled out of his bed, feeling refreshed by the sliver of sunlight shining through the slightly parted emerald-green curtains of his window. The warm light shone right on his face, effectively waking him up. It was only dawn, but he had had a good night's rest. He stood up and stretched, put on his most comfortable trousers and t-shirt, and began working.

He had found that Muggle fitness equipment was actually quite impressive, and gave a person a more proper workout than any Wizard exercise machine. Magical exercise machines tended to let the person working out cheat a little by enhancing muscles while they were using that particular machine. Muggle equipment was designed to make the person actually work, and over time they would gain a stronger endurance and nice muscles that didn't disappear.

Draco ran four miles nonstop on a Muggle machine called a treadmill, and then took a cold shower. Today would be a very boring day. He sighed for the whole house to hear. Sometimes he wondered if he was lonely. He didn't feel very lonely. But then again, he'd always been alone. Except for that one person. That person who had come into his life so unexpectedly, wrenched his heart out, and cracked it with a big hammer. But that was the past. Now...he was alone again, in the mansion he himself had bought. But...the memory of that person would always be there...they would never fade. Never.

Draco drew out a wrinkled photo. It was a photo taken by a Muggle camera. Draco kept the picture with him always, even now that that person was no longer a part of his life. He stared at the picture unhappily. He wouldn't want to be with that same person again if he had the chance. No, what he missed was what he had felt when he had been with that person. The happiness of sharing a life with someone he cared for, someone who was there for him.

Draco clenched his fist, crinkling the picture. A tear dropped to the hard marble floor with a splatter. The noise reverberated throughout the hall. Draco hated himself for this weakness, this flaw that had come to be part of him. He could not change anything, could not go back in time and wish it never happened, and even if he could, he was not so sure he would want it to never have happened.

He recalled the joy mixed with shock and adoration the first time he realized what it was he was feeling. It had seemed unrealistic, like a faraway dream that was just out of his grasp. When It had ended, Draco had spent months unable to sleep properly, with no appetite, and not even bothering to comb his hair or dress in fancy clothes. His already-pale face had turned even paler, giving his face a sort of unhealthy blue and transparent sheen. He had fallen into a desperate state of depression, and he felt as if he were dying a slow, agonizing death.

What had saved him from pining his life away was his need to help someone. While in this depression, he had only been aware that he needed to find his old mentor for advice. When he found Severus Snape, the former professor was near death. Draco had saved him, spending each day nursing him like a mother. He couldn't let such an old teacher and friend die, especially now, when he needed someone to support him.

While saving his mentor, Draco had slowly recovered, forgetting himself and worrying about Snape. He began eating healthily again, stopped having nightmares, and became more energetic again. Draco discovered that at times he could completely forget about the hurt in the past, and he learned to be satisfied with life again. His arrogance and aloofness returned, and he was himself again.

Draco knew he had changed, and changed a great deal. He knew now that he did not at all belong with his father's side. Draco had thought he'd learned all there was to learn. But he had been surprised when he was taught to love, and by the most unlikeliest of all people...

Draco dressed himself in black trousers and a silk black shirt with silver buttons. He stood in front of a full length mirror, admiring his good taste. This outfit would be good for the day; he did not plan to return to the house until late night. Draco completed his outfit with a pair of black leather boots that were good for running, in case he needed to. Black was a perfect color, not only because it looked good on him, but also because it allowed him to conceal himself better in shadows and dark corners.

Draco stepped out the front door and breathed in the fresh morning air. The rich green grass still glittered with dew, and the sun shone brightly overhead. Today the cloudless sky was a bright, pleasant blue, and slightly yellowed by the golden rays of the sun, but it's cheerfulness was lost on Draco. He had much more important things to worry about today than the sky.

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Hermione awoke to the sound of her alarm. Her alarm, modified from a Muggle alarm clock, was designed to know which days she would be taking off from work, and which days she had to get up earlier than usual, and so on, so that Hermione never had to reset the alarm. Hermione blindly grabbed for her wand on her bedside table, and with a flick, turned the alarm off.

She was exhausted, and had been up until the unholy hours of the morning, and had only gone to sleep four hours ago. However, nothing could be helped, and she had to get up, for today was the day the entire team would be coming together to discuss what needed to be done, and what orders Roassir had given. She was leading the meeting, because she was the one who kept track of all the files, and what was going on, and who was doing what.

Harry was the one who would be taking the team into action, and she would be a part of that as well. Hermione pulled her hair back into a messy pony-tail, smoothing it out quickly with an easy charm. She threw on some dark blue pants and a red sleeveless top that were comfortable and conservative. She slipped her small feet into some worn sandals and decided to grab some pumpkin juice before leaving the house. She would get some breakfast at the office.

Hermione yawned. It would be quite a boring day...

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Along the path, Harry jogged. The trees loomed high above him, and bits of sunlight pierced through the trees here and there. He had a habit of jogging to work, taking the long way just for the workout. Emerging from the woods and turning onto the road the path led to, Harry checked his watch. It was almost ten thirty.

He had made a habit of coming to work later, but he always stayed at the office late after everyone else had already left, so it didn't matter so much. This kind of job didn't require you to be at the office at a precise time, you only had to do what you were assigned, and that was that.

Harry had picked this job because it was something similar to what he had grown up doing. Fighting against evil. It was something he had dedicated himself to doing the first time he'd encountered the murderer of his parents. When he had finished Hogwarts, he knew such a job would be exactly what he wanted.

Then one day, Harry accidentally met Roassir in a café, and they had gotten to talking. Harry joined what had been a team of only three people: Jaysen, Tantras, and Karmin. Then Ron joined the team without the blink of an eye, and together they had persuaded Hermione to join, where her cleverness would be of great help. Starting as only a fellow team member, Harry soon proved himself a good leader, and became the head of the team. Two months later, Karmin was murdered and Ginny became part of the team.

However, it was not as easy as it sounded to become a team member. The wizards and witches in the team had to be fit, trained in magical dueling as well as Muggle fighting, and had to have good attack strategies. To join the team, the members had to be approved, and their mentality had to be tested for "leaks" by several different wizards. Each wizard or witch had to go through three weeks of examination, during which their actions and habits were observed, as well as many other important factors such as fighting style.

Harry's walls were actually magical scanners that observed and examined every magical person who entered the office that was not already a part of the team. The scanners were invented by Hermione, and they were convenient and efficient, and a new and improved way to find possible team members. The scanners were connected to a small monitor on Harry's desk that only he could see when he sat in his chair behind it. The monitor displayed data that assisted Harry in concluding whether or not the person in question would be worthy of joining the team.

That was why Harry had asked Malfoy to join. He hadn't wanted to, but the monitor had told him that Draco would be a very valuable member, and the red bar flashed, a signal that the scanner approved of Malfoy completely. According to the monitor, the blond-haired Slytherin was flawless. This almost never happened, in fact, it had been declared impossible for that to happen.

Draco's mentality was a thick and powerful web that could not be penetrated. The scanner said that he was extremely good at cooperating, something Harry seriously doubted, his fighting skills (both magically and Muggle-wise) were near perfect, and he had a great understanding of attack strategies. Harry didn't even have to check the monitor to make sure Draco was physically fit. Harry had no choice but to ask Draco to join. After all, he had already passed the immediate examination, and was sure to pass the physical and mental endurance tests.

Harry reached his office and flung open the door to find Tylendel waiting for him on the couch.

"Harry, there you are." Tylendel stood up. "I was looking for you. Something weird happened last night." He paused, looking hesitant. Harry said nothing, only watched his friend. "I blacked out."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, you blacked out?"

"I don't exactly know what happened, or remember anything. Just...I woke up on the floor, in my clothes, with a throbbing headache, and the clock said it was two in the morning." It looked as if Tylendel's headache still hadn't worn off. "At least I think I blacked out."

"We'll have to run some tests on you, and check your mentality again. It could be someone was tampering with your mind." Harry fell silent, deep in thought. "Do you feel alright?"

"Gods, everything's fine except my head. It hurts like hell." Tylendel grimaced as he massaged his temples.

Harry sighed audibly, and sat down. Tylendel joined him, and the two exchanged no words for several minutes.

"I have to ask you about that peculiar stone," began Harry. "What --"

The door opened, and Ginny's head appeared from behind the door. "Harry, could I have a word with you before the meeting?"

The unfinished sentence was forgotten as Harry replied, "Sure, Ginny." Then he turned back to Tylendel. "I'll talk to you later," he said with a nod and a smile.

"Zhai'helleva," said Tylendel.

Harry gave him a weird look and said, "Er, right."

A few minutes after Harry left, Tylendel followed his footsteps, thoughtful.

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Harry entered the room to find Tantras, Ron, and Tylendel waiting for him. "Hello," he said pleasantly. His three friends greeted him much the same way, and as they took their places at the long, rectangular table, the rest of the team filed in. All except one.

Harry looked around. He was seated in the first seat on the right side. But-- someone was missing. The person who should have been sitting at his left and the head of the table.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny was the one to ask the unvoiced question. Everyone glanced uncertainly at each other.

"Maybe...she's late?" said Tantras hesitantly. He, and everyone else in the room knew that Hermione was pretty much never late.

"No," said Ron in a firm voice. "Hermione is the most punctual person I know. Something must be wrong with her." Ron shook his head. "I know you're all probably thinking I'm being paranoid, but trust me, for as long as I've known her, she thinks late means coming ten minutes before a meeting starts. No, I'm almost sure something's wrong."

No one said anything in reply, there was only uncomfortable silence that seemed to echo around them.

Harry broke the quiet first. "Let's give her a few more minutes."

And so they did. Each person sat stiffly in their chair, trying to think about something else. Finally, after several agonizing minutes, the door opened. Sighs of relief were audible all around the room.

Harry stood up. "Her--"

But it was Draco who entered the room. "Potter," he said in his usual drawl. "I would prefer if you did not stick your head in my face. It's quite impolite, you know. Then again, you never understand proper etiquette."

Harry opened his mouth angrily, looking as if he were about to retort, but was interrupted.

"Back to the matter at hand. Where is Granger? I have very important information to give to her." Draco looked around the room expectantly.

Harry frowned. "You mean you haven't seen her either?"

Ron stood up. "I don't care what you think, at this point. I'm going to go and look for her."

Harry turned around. "No, Ron--"

"Harry, I don't think Hermione would ever be this late," Ron said in a half-irritated, half-angry voice. "You realize it's fifteen minutes and we've only been wasting time? She could be in serious trouble!"

"Ron, I was only going to say, you shouldn't go looking by yourself. We'll all come with you." Harry picked up his briefcase and grinned. "After all, we are a team."

"Potter, that was the lamest thing I have ever heard. Where did you pick that up? Muggle television programs?" Draco smirked in that annoying way that made everyone feel extremely irritated.

"Malfoy, you might as well make yourself useful, for once, and help us try to find Hermione." Harry pursed his lips and glared at Draco, daring him to rebel against the command.

Malfoy glared right back at Harry and held his eyes. "I will help," he said in a flat, quiet voice that betrayed no emotion. "But only because I am doing anything and everything to go against Kraddoch and my father."

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Harry had split everyone up to look for Hermione in different locations. At this point, the team was assuming Hermione was in danger. After assigning his fellow comrades to possible places, Harry had been left alone with Draco. The two of them said nothing, but together went to Hermione's small house to search for any signs of anything strange.

"Er, you look upstairs," said Harry in a somewhat emotionless voice. "I'll take the first floor."

"Right," was all Draco said before ascending the stairs.

The house was unusually quiet and had an air of disuse. Each time he entered a room, Harry felt as if her were disturbing something. It was a feeling he was slowly growing accustomed to, but made him uneasy all the same.

Harry glanced around the living room; nothing out of the ordinary caught his eye. Quietly, he slipped into the small kitchen. Absentmindedly, he walked in a circle, glimpsing the different angles of the kitchen. He stopped at the rectangular counter, staring at and through some vague point in front of him. It was several minutes before he realized exactly what it was that he was staring at.

On the counter, lying on its side, was a mug. And spilling out of the mug and onto the counter was pumpkin juice. In fact, Harry had even stuck his arms in the pumpkin juice without realizing it. He silently cursed himself for his stupidity. His new shirt was now stained.

"Malfoy!" shouted Harry. "I think I've found something!"

Harry stood staring at the pumpkin juice, pensive. After a few minutes, Draco silently slipped in the kitchen.

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted again. He was becoming irritated. Very irritated.

"What did you find?" asked Draco in a quiet and casual, conversational voice.

Harry turned around, a bit startled. "Malfoy. I didn't hear you come down. You could have at least said something."

Draco slowly walked to where Harry was standing. "Nice going, Potter. Is this the new fashion statement? Dye all your clothes orange?" He smirked at Harry.

"No, would you stop being dense and think for a moment? Hermione spilled this mug of pumpkin juice. When she spilled it, she should and would have cleared up the mess immediately. But something stopped her." Harry's tone was very serious.

Draco merely shrugged. "Maybe she didn't have time because she thought she was going to be late for work?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look at the pumpkin juice! Half of it has dried up and stained the counter. She probably got up early, decided to get some pumpkin juice and then go to work and maybe grab some breakfast on the way. In our jobs, there is no such thing as being late for work. The only thing she might've been late for today was that meeting, which she was!"

Draco spoke slowly. "So...you think she was abducted right here?"

Harry nodded. "Have you checked all the rooms upstairs yet?"

Draco shook his head. "I haven't checked her bedroom yet."

"Okay then, lets go." Harry pivoted, and head out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Draco at his heels.

At the top of the stairs, Draco took the lead and made a right down the dim hallway. The first door they reached led into Hermione's bedroom. Harry paused, his hand on the doorknob, hesitant. By entering this room, would he be trespassing the privacy of one of his best friends?

"Potter, go. We wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the sake of Granger," said Draco, as if reading Harry's thoughts.

"H-how did you know?" Harry turned to stare at Draco.

"I'm an Empath." Draco shrugged, then stepped forward to turn the doorknob himself. The two slipped into the room, feeling as if they didn't belong there and something was trying to push them out.

For the most part, the room was neatly organized, and the lilac curtains were drawn apart, letting in the warm sunlight. Harry glanced around. Nothing seemed out of place...

Draco bent down to examine something on the carpeted floor. He frowned slightly. "Potter. Look at this." Draco stood up, holding a handful of some dark powdery substance.

"Is that...ash?" Harry watched Draco's face carefully.

"It looks like the ash remains of a spell that was intercepted." Draco drew his wand out and muttered a charm that collected the powder into a small package.

"A spell that was intercepted?" Harry rubbed his scar thoughtfully.

"It could be that Granger used the wrong spell, realized her mistake, and stopped the spell halfway through. But, if that was the case, she would know to clean up the spell ashes." Draco paused a moment. "It's also possible that she used a spell that would allow us to understand what happened to her, her kidnapper intercepted it, and very stupidly forgot to clear away the evidence."

"But why would the ashes be in her room? If she spilled that mug of pumpkin juice when she was kidnapped, wouldn't that mean that everything happened in the kitchen?" Harry was getting a headache.

"True, but how about this. Her captor found her in the kitchen, tied her up and gagged her, then went to her room to remove something, sensed the spell, intercepted it while still in her room, then went back downstairs and finished up the business." Draco watched Harry expectantly.

"You make it sound like she was murdered."

"Well, that is a possibility. We have nothing to prove she's alive, do we?" Draco looked down at his hands pensively.

With a heavy heart, Harry checked his watch, and said, "It's time to meet the rest of the team. Let's go."

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"Did anyone find anything?" asked Harry. The reply he got was scattered mutterings of "no," and heads shaking disappointedly. There was only one team member whose answer differed from the rest.

"I might have something important," said Ginny. "I was taking a break at the pub, and I overheard two wizards behind me who were talking. I started listening to their conversation when I heard them say 'Damn Granger, that Mudblood bit my hand'."

Harry stared at her, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. "What else did you hear?"

"Well, I could only catch a few words here and there, they were talking so quietly. One of the names they mentioned was 'Kraddoch', and I also heard them say something about you, Harry." Ginny frowned. "I couldn't get a look at them until they were leaving, and they both wore dark clothing, and I suspect they're members of Kraddoch's gang."

Harry nodded and proceeded to relate what had been found at Hermione's house.

"So, could we trace the ashes to the person who intercepted the spell?" asked a voice from the back of the group.

Draco removed the small packet of grayish powder from his pocket. "I'm not sure. We might--" Draco stopped very abruptly, and Harry looked up to see what was wrong. Draco's face was slightly colored instead of its usual paleness, and it seemed he was having a hard time speaking.

"We might what?" asked the same person, who now stepped out from behind the team. The voice had belonged to a dark-haired man of twenty-two years. The last member of the team.

Draco stared at him, his face a mix of shock and dismay. "J-jaysen."

It was the first time Harry had every heard Draco stutter, and that surprised him.

"Draco." Jaysen's face held a strange look of recognition. "Did you just join the team?" he asked in a much quieter voice. His eyes stared back at Draco's silver ones steadily.

Harry was unsure of what to think. Jaysen was calling Malfoy by his first name? How did Jaysen even know who Malfoy was? An awkward silence hung in the air, until, surprisingly, Draco broke the gaze, looking down, cheek's slightly pink, and it was as if he hadn't even heard the question. He drew a quick, audible breath that sounded close to a gasp, but not quite, and at the sound of it Harry glanced at him.

"You two...have...met?" asked Harry, hesitant.

"Er," said Jaysen faintly, "something like that."

"We're...old friends," Draco muttered, avoiding Jaysen's eyes.

"Ah." Harry was at a loss for words. For several moments, nothing was spoken.

"Hello? We're wasting time," said Ginny with an impatient air of annoyance. "We have to find Hermione. I'm sure you'll live if you postpone this lovely reunion."

Harry frowned at Ginny for her cheek, but took command and said, "Ginny's right. We'll need as much help in this as we can get." Harry took a Wizard walkie-talkie out of his pocket. He muttered into it, "Finnigan, it's Harry. I need you in the office right now. Be there in ten." Harry then turned back to the team. "Be at the lab in ten minutes with everything we've got on Kraddoch."

"What if it's not Kraddoch?" asked Draco, regaining his composure.

"For now, we'll assume it's him. He's the most likely suspect." Harry said briefly. "Alright? Ten minutes." And with that, the team separated, and Harry went straight to his office.

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Meanwhile...

"Everything work out? No problems?" asked a deep, masculine voice. He sat in a swivel chair, his back facing the two wizards he was speaking to.

"Everything went according to plan, boss," said one of the wizards, nodding. "We got the girl. Can't say she didn't put up a fight, though. Barnum here knocked her out clean."

The other wizard, Barnum, chuckled a bit. "Her fault for biting my hand. Damn, it still hurts."

"Is she in The Room, where I said to put her?" asked the boss.

"Yup," answered Barnum.

"Kraddoch, about the reward--" began the first wizard.

"What, Lyeron?" interrupted the boss in a cold, steel voice.

Lyeron hesitated before replying, "Nothin'."

"Good. I want to talk to Granger. Clear the guards out of The Room." Kraddoch stood up, carefully keeping his back to the two wizards..

"Of course," said Barnum, and left the room, Lyeron right behind him.

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The lab was a room similar to Harry's office, but much larger. Inside it there were thirty Muggle computers, twenty-four computers that were magically modified, as well as several other kinds of Wizard technology, and all of them were running at all times. Harry had discovered that Muggle technology was quite improved, but very slow. The Muggle computers were used mainly for internet searches; the modified ones couldn't quite properly connect to the internet, and that was probably because the internet was created by Muggles, not Wizards. However, the Wizard-computers were very quick and efficient, and allowed much more to be done.

Harry immediately assigned tasks. "Right. Ron, Ginny, and Tran. You three do a search for any and every location that Kraddoch holds. Jaysen, Tylendel, Draco, see if you can find anything in that ash. I want you to see if you can trace it to the wand that performed the spell, and then give that information to Seamus, who'll see if he can find which person the wand belongs to. Seamus, for now I want you on the Muggle computers, and do an internet search. Keyword: Kraddoch. Check for any connections he might have with Muggles. I'll be going back and forth, and checking some data. Alright? Let's get to work!"

Without realizing it, Harry had assigned the most conflicting people together.

Still, everyone quickly set about their tasks; Ginny, her brother, and Tantras went straight to work on the Wizard-computers, Draco, Tylendel, and Jaysen disappeared into the room connected and adjacent to the lab and began running several different tests on the powdery substance. Seamus placed himself in front of one of the Muggle computers and began a search for 'Kraddoch' on all the search engines and directories.

Harry sat down in front of one of the vacant Wizard-computers and logged onto his own account by scanning his wand hand under the green bar of light. He first went through Hermione's file. Each team member was branded with a kind of tracking device, a bit like an invisible tattoo that only another team member could identify. It had been his idea, and even though Roassir had not approved of it for unknown reasons, he had used it anyway.

On the back of the wand hand of each team member, a permanent and magical square sensor had been stamped. When the others were close to finding a missing team member, their wand hands would twinge as an alert. The square lighted up when a certain kind of wandlight was shone upon it, serving as an identification tag as well.

Harry planned to use this tracking device to find Hermione. The sensor on the back of her hand would "draw" them to her, and with careful searching, they should be able to find her. Harry double-clicked the palm-sized glowing sphere that sat next to the computer. It was the modified version of a Muggle mouse, and was much more advanced. Harry waited until he heard the two beeps which told him Hermione's tracking sensor had been activated.

Harry put away the file and paused. He groaned inwardly and closed his eyes. He had been trying hard not to think about Hermione. He didn't want to imagine what she might be going through, didn't even want to think about the fact that his best friend might be dead as of this moment. All he wanted was to do everything he could to save her. He choked back a sob, and forced himself to maintain his calm.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. "It's okay, Harry. We'll bring her back. I promise." Ron sat down next to him, giving him a worried glance.

Harry cleared his throat and opened his eyes with a quiet sigh. "Well, what've you got?"

"A big headache, for the most part." Ron frowned. "Ginny and Tran can't get along properly. Tantras keeps trying to talk to Ginny, and she keeps glaring daggers at him. And she won't tell me what's going on. It's making me spin in circles."

Harry glanced to his right, where Tantras was trying say something, and Ginny, on the Wizard-computer was angrily ignoring him. "Any progress?"

Ron nodded. "Apparently Kraddoch has seventy-three places; twenty-one of them are underground, thirteen of them are unplottable--"

"And thirty-two of them are Muggle locations."

Harry and Ron turned to see that Seamus had joined the conversation.

Ron wrinkled his forehead. "Really?"

"Yup," replied Seamus. "Found them online. It seems that he has quite a few Muggles working for him."

"So," said Harry while entering the new data into the computer. Seventy-three total, twenty-one underground, thirteen unplottable, and thirty-two Muggle." Harry frowned. "What about the other seven?"

Ron shrugged. "Can't seem to find anything else."

"Same here." Seamus nodded.

"Seven unknown," said Harry, recording the data. "Anything else?"

"Well," began Seamus hesitantly. He lowered his voice. "Harry, if I could speak with you in private for a moment?"

Harry frowned. If Seamus had information on Kraddoch, it was the business of the whole team. Why did he need to present this information in private? However, Harry nodded and stood up, following Seamus into another room.

Seamus closed the door.

"Well?" asked Harry.

Seamus fidgeted. "I, er, found the names of two people who work with Kraddoch the most, and are pretty much in charge of Kraddoch's gang. One is Craig DeKaye..." His voice faded.

"And?" prompted Harry.

After a pause, "Look, Harry, I know you and Tylendel go way back, but--"

"What about Tylendel?" said Harry in a sharp, defending voice.

"Er, his last name is Frelennye, right?"

"So?" demanded Harry in a suspicious tone.

Seamus sighed. "The other person is Staven Frelennye. And...given the fact that that name is not very common--"

Harry drew a deep breath. The name Frelennye was not common at all.

Seamus hesitated. "D-do you know if...Tylendel has a brother?"

Harry looked grim. "Yes. He does have a brother, but I don't remember his name." Could Tylendel have betrayed him? One of his oldest, his closest friends? Harry felt shocked inside, but did his best to keep his calm. Harry said nothing, but in a few quick strides, he reached the door, pulled it open, and went back into the other room, Seamus trailing behind him with uncertainty on his face.

Harry calmly walked into the adjacent room where Draco, Jaysen, and Tylendel were testing the ash. He paused in the doorway, observing the three young men. Harry noted that Draco was avoiding Jaysen's gaze, and that between them, there weren't many exchanges of words. All conversation was forced by Tylendel, who at the moment, was in the corner of the room, examining the ash from under blue rays.

"Tylendel," said Harry with forced calm. "If I may have a word with you?"

Tylendel put down the light and crossed the room. "Heyla, Harry. What do you need?"

"What...did you say was the name of your brother?" asked Harry, watching his friend's face very carefully.

Tylendel frowned. "My twin? Why?"

Harry repeated the question. "What's his name?"

Tylendel paused a moment. He looked at his feet. "You've found out about him." It was more of a statement, than a question.

"Was his name Staven?" asked Harry, unsure what his reaction should be.

Tylendel nodded, still not looking up. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry's voice was growing colder with each word. Seamus stood awkwardly and silently behind him. "Why?"

"I'm sorry, but it's not his fault." Tylendel's voice was barely above a whisper now. The look on his face was one of terrible sadness and despair. He sank to his knees, sitting on his feet. "I thought that if I joined your team, I could help him."

"Help him how?" Harry raised his icy steel voice.

Tylendel only shook his head. "It's not his fault," he repeated softly.

The sound of Harry's angry voice caught the attention of Draco and Jaysen.

"Help him how?" Harry shouted furiously. "Were you going to spy on us for him? Huh? Give him some more information to feed to Kraddoch?" Harry now had attracted the attention of all the team members, who had gathered around them in a confused group. "Were you the one who took Hermione?"

Tylendel looked up at Harry's harsh words through teary eyes. "No. It wasn't like that at all Harry. I--"

"Then what? Oh I know. You were going to hand us over to Kraddoch himself. I'm sure he promised you a great reward, huh?" Harry felt as if he had been ripped to shreds and then stepped on. A single tear leaked through his eyes and rolled down his cheek. Inside, his head was screaming betrayal.

"NO!" screamed Tylendel, tears streaming from his eyes. "Would you listen to me? I love Staven. He's my other half. I--" He gasped desperately. "He was kidnapped by Kraddoch. Kraddoch controls him. It's not Staven's fault. I joined the team because I thought maybe if you could help me, I could bring him back. Make him realize who he is." Tylendel's words grew steadier as he gained strength. Harry angrily opened his mouth to speak but Tylendel stopped him.

"Listen, Harry. Hermione. She's been kidnapped. It's got to be Kraddoch. I'm sure of it. I can...feel things because Staven's connected with him. If you don't bring Hermione back, if you don't save her--he'll control her too. She'll be just like Staven. She'll know what she's doing -- and she'll hate it -- but she won't be able to stop it. I know this Harry, trust me! Please. I can feel what Staven feels, you can't guess the nightmares I face every night about him. We're connected because we're twins--" he broke off.

Harry said nothing, only stared at him unsure of what to believe. The room was filled with complete silence for a few minutes.

"Potter," said Malfoy in a quiet voice.

Harry jerked his head up, slightly startled.

"Potter, he's telling the truth. I can tell. I know when people lie -- he isn't lying."

After a few moments, Harry nodded slowly. There was nothing he could think of to say. He pivoted on his heels, and left the lab.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Good afternoon, my dear."

Hermione squirmed. She had been magically bound to a chair in the center of The Room, and her wand had been taken from her. Kraddoch casually strolled around her in slow circles. He wore a black mask that covered his eyes and nose, but not his mouth, and was dressed in a black suit; under different circumstances, Hermione would have laughed at his costume.

The Room was plain, octagonal room, with bleak, gray walls. The walls were actually glass panes that allowed the guards to observe what was going on from the outside. At the words of a spell, the walls would turn into mirrors. But of course, Hermione did not know all this.

"I presume that you know who I am?" said Kraddoch in a somewhat amused voice.

Hermione glared at him.

"Mmm? Answer when I am speaking to you." He moved his hand very slightly, and Hermione found that she was being forced to speak.

"K-kraddoch," she muttered. She knew she was not under the Imperius spell, but how was he controlling her?

"Very good!" Kraddoch's mouth stretched in a smile that made Hermione shiver. It was an innocent looking smile, full of cheer and enthusiasm. If it had been on anyone else's face, Hermione would have liked them immediately. But knowing who this dangerous man was, that smile gave her as much comfort as the thought of being locked up in Azkaban.

Hermione chanced at conversation. She took a deep breath, and said, "Do you know what time it is? My watch has been taken from me."

Kraddoch looked surprised, and then his smile widened. "Time does not pass in this Room. Or rather, it does, but not for you. You may eat at any time, sleep at any time; in this room, you may have anything you wish at any time. Do not worry yourself with the passing of the hours."

"If I may have anything I wish at any time, then right now I wish to know what time it is." said Hermione, refusing to give up.

Kraddoch looked thoughtful. "Clever girl, aren't you? Well, at this moment, in this room, it is No Time. Now, would you like to have anything to eat or drink?"

Hermione frowned suspiciously. "No. I want you to unbind me."

Kraddoch grinned. "That can be taken care of." He flicked his wrist ever so slightly and the ropes uncoiled themselves.

Hermione began to stand up.

"No," said the man calmly, and with the small gesture of his hand, pushed her back down on the chair. "I would prefer for you to stay seated."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at her captor.

Out of nowhere, Kraddoch conjured another chair, and placed it in front of Hermione. Defiantly, she pulled her feet out from under her and put them on the chair, using it as a footrest. Kraddoch looked amused, pushed her feet off with a wave of his hand, and sat down in it.

"I would like to talk to you about a few small matters," said the man.

Hermione felt a slight pulse on the back of her right hand. It alarmed her for a moment, but it quickly dawned on her that the tracking sensor had been activated. Yes! She thought. Harry knows I'm in trouble! Relief sank into her, and she relaxed a tiny bit. "What do you want to talk about?" She stared with suspicion into those eyes, surrounded by that black mask. They seemed friendly on the surface, but she could see that deep down, behind the pupils, this man was as friendly as a harassed dragon.

"Your friend Potter, for one thing." Kraddoch paused, watching Hermione curiously.

I knew it, thought Hermione. She would have to be careful not to give anything away. She couldn't let Kraddoch know about the tracking sensor, or he might move her to a different place, or worse, cut off her hand. Hermione shuddered at the thought. She drew a slow, deep breath, and said, "What about him?"

Kraddoch examined his fingernails with feigned and exaggerated interest. "You know, it is a very good thing that you are in my possesion. Potter has always given me much trouble. Imagine how it would break him if he lost you." Kraddoch spoke in a conversational tone so casual, Hermione found herself wanting to throw up.

Hermione didn't answer, only glared, attacking her kidnapper with a look brimming with hatred and disgust.

"He would shatter quite wretchedly, and not without a dramatic display of despair." Kraddoch smirked. "He would drown in his pitiful and heartrending grief. And then one day, a stupid notion would enter his dense head, and he would set out to find his revenge. And he would find, instead, that he had fallen into the jaws of his enemy, and it would be too late to save him. The story of his life. How charmingly pathetic."

Hermione said nothing. She was trembling with rage, and her hands were clasped together so tightly the knuckles were white. She raised her eyes to meet Kraddoch's, which were staring at her intently. They were a cold, grayish-brown. The false friendliness that had been there before was gone, now left with only anger.

"What do you want?" she asked in a quiet, but hard voice.

Kraddoch chuckled. "I knew you'd be agreeable. However, I don't want anything. I am offering something that you may want."

"What, then?" Hermione was unsure if she would like this 'offer.'

"Freedom." The word was spoken very simply and plainly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You're lying. You're not offering me freedom. You're offering me the chance to buy my freedom."

Kraddoch frowned. "I do not feel like playing around with words right now. The point is, do you want this freedom or not?"

Hermione was pensively silent for a moment. There had to be a catch. "What's the price?"

Kraddoch laughed, a sound Hermione thought was unsuited for him. "Price? I would not call it such. How about...a trade? Yes, I do believe that sounds much more pleasant. If you do want to be freed, all I'm asking you to do is let us into your head for exactly three hours. One hour to get in, one and a half hours inside, and half an hour to get out."

What? thought Hermione. "What do you mean? If you wanted to go into my head, why didn't you do so when I was still unconscious?" she asked suspiciously. She wasn't sure she understood what he had meant by "let us into your head."

Kraddoch looked surprised. "You don't --?" He stopped abruptly, as realization dawned on him. "All the better," he murmured to himself thoughtfully. Then, he turned back to Hermione. "Even though you were unconscious, your head was still awake. It would not have let us in. It would either have been damaged itself, or the person going into it would have been harmed." explained Kraddoch. "You have quite a powerful brain, young lady."

Hermione began to have an inkling of what he meant, but still could not fully grasp the idea. "Explain what you mean by the phrase 'go into my head.'"

"Well," began Kraddoch, feeling even more surprised to have been asked that. "I would mentally enter your brain, and your powers would be open to my use, as well as your familiarities."

Hermione said nothing, but thought about what he said. He would be able access her powers, know what she knew, and basically have access to any and every part of her brain. Hermione felt disgusted by the idea, but wanted to learn more information, so she inquired, "And what will you do once you're 'inside my head?'"

Kraddoch said nothing for several minutes. Finally, he answered, "I plan to use your powers."

"Why aren't your powers sufficient?"

Kraddoch smiled. "Curious, aren't you? Confucius did say the best way to learn was to ask questions."

Hermione said nothing, but raised her eyebrows to imply that she wanted him to answer her question.

He gave in. "I would use your powers because you are a close friend of Potter's." That did not properly answer what she asked, but Hermione knew it was all he would say.

For several moments, the two did not speak. Their eyes locked together in a stare. Hermione couldn't look away, those brown-gray eyes seemed to keep her frozen in place. Almost five minutes of silence passed. She felt the back of her hand pulse again, and glanced down at it involuntarily. Hermione quickly looked up again, chiding herself silently, but Kraddoch had caught the glance.

His mouth moved to form a half-smile that was very close to a smirk. "So. Our faithful friends have begun their search, haven't they?"

Hermione kept her face as expressionless as she could, but was shaken by his last statement. Did he in fact know about the tracking sensors? How? Hermione casually crossed her arms again, attempting hide the back of her hand.

Kraddoch observed the motion with mild interest. "Give me your hand," he said in soft voice that was devoid of expression.

She eyed the man with mounting suspicion. "Why?"

He offered a smile that was far from reaching his eyes. "Your hand," he simply repeated.

Hermione purposely stuck out her left hand.

Kraddoch chuckled in a nasty voice. "Why did you give me your left hand?" he asked in a voice that sounded slightly mocking.

Hermione hesitated before answering, "If you were going to do something to my hand, I didn't want it to be my wand hand." Then she realized, after repeating her words silently to herself, that her response could give away exactly what she was trying to conceal, although she had meant to imply that she wanted her wand hand to remain unharmed so she could still perform magic. She chided herself and bit back a curse.

"Give me your right hand." This time Kraddoch's voice held a mix of amusement and firmness.

Hermione reluctantly withdrew her left hand, and allowed Kraddoch to take her right hand in both of his. He held it gently in one hand, and placed the index finger of his other hand in the exact center of the invisible square. Her heartbeat sped up with a boom that jogged her bones. His actions confirmed what she had greatly feared -- he knew about the tracking sensor. Hermione felt a tingle on her skin and knew he had deactivated it.

"H-how did you know?" she finally choked out.

"Know what? Ah, you mean the sensor." He half grinned, half sneered. "I know everything Potter does. Quite careless, he is."

Hermione stared intently at Kraddoch, hoping for some expression in his face that might give away something, anything. All her hopes were broken, and the pieces scattered, then trampled upon. There was no way Harry would find her now. Absolutely no way.

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Author's Note: Well. That was quite fun to write. Sorry about the big boring beginning (alliteration, hehe), and I couldn't resist leaving you with a cliffhanger. Next chapter: What happens to Hermione? Will Harry the big, bad wizard come to the rescue? I promise to give you more on Ty-baby, and we meet a new character. How did Kraddoch know about the tracking sensor? I can't guarantee I'll answer that question in the next part, but I'll give you hints! And thanks to Katie for the title! Please send comments to [email protected]. Due to stupid virus emails, [email protected] is no longer in use. Please don't send me emails there; I won't receive them.

This chapter has now ended.