Something unexpected

Ron received the owl from his parents just as he received the Daily Prophet that morning. Several words sprang out at him. Virginia. Weasley. Missing. He resolved to go and meet his parents at Hogwarts. He hastily packed a bag and left his room. On his way out, he collided with Abrielle, sending her tower of what seemed like alphabetically organised papers cascading to the floor. He did not stop to pick them up, however, and the angry French girl, who was not used to such rudeness sent a stream of curses after him.

Ron arrived in England on "Le Bus Chevalier", the French version of the Knight Bus. He went straight home, a mixture of nervous energy and foreboding pervading his thoughts. He met a tearful mother at the door, and, together with his father, and twin brothers, travelled by Floo Powder to Hogwarts.

******

Whilst all this was happening, Harry was attempting to escape from his cell. It was not very well guarded, or magically protected as it was just a temporary holding cell. He knew he would be taken to Azkaban a little later, so it fueled his desire to get out. "Accio wand" he tried. Nothing happened. He tried again, and still nothing happened. Harry guessed they must have locked it away somewhere. Harry waited quietly at the large hatch where his dinner was to be pushed through. Most of the prisoners here were completely incapacitated mentally, so there was no need for maximum security, as they were unlikely to do anything harmful. At last, the hatch opened and Harry seized his moment. He delivered a forceful blow to the back of the guard's knee, causing him to come crashing down. Harry looked over at the guard. He appeared to be out cold.

"Captiosus," Harry whispered. This spell would make him have the stealth of a cat; he would not be noticed as easily. He took the guard's wand and cloak and wrapped himself up in it, taking care to draw up the hood. He walked with the wand out in front of him, and tried to keep out of any light. He passed the room he had been ushered into the other day to meet the lawyer. He pressed on. He passed a room filled with confiscated prisoners' items. He entered it, and at the back saw his wand, thrown carelessly into a glass-topped case, with so many other wands.

"Alohomora," he said and opened the case. An unearthly shriek issued from the case. Harry grabbed his wand, and put his hands over his ears. He ran from the room, feeling quiet dizzy from the sound and ran down the corridor. The enchanted prison gate loomed up in front of him. He had no idea how he could escape. He spotted a broomstick propped up against the gate.

"Things always turn up, just when I need them," he thought. He kicked off from the ground. He tried to fly over the gate, but a magical force field prevented him. He could see the guards spilling out of the main building. He sighed and lowered himself back down to the ground. It was now or never. He turned directly to the guard in the gate control box and yelled....

"VOLDEMORT!!"

The guards, who had been rushing towards him suddenly stopped. They were not the brightest of creatures, seemingly direct descendants of the Nether Troll. One guard scratched his head. The guard in the gate control box edged towards the door, and screaming loudly, ran for his life. Harry stared after it before saying calmly...

"Stupefy!"

The guard immediately stopped and fell over. Harry turned to face the other guards.

"Right, now you know what I'm capable of, will someone please turn of the magical force field over the gate, otherwise I shall have to perform the Cruciatus curse on each and every one of you."

The guards hustled together like a flock of chickens. Harry advanced on them menacingly, and, eventually, one guard stepped into the gate control booth. Harry kicked off from the ground once more and felt the air breeze through his hair. He turned round and hovered over the gate. He stuck a middle finger up at the prison officials who had come out of the building, shouted "Hasta la vista!" and flew off.

******

Ginny cautiously opened one eye. Her head hurt. She had no recollection of the events of the past few hours. She shook her muzzy head bemusedly, as if to dispel the sense of confusion and dread. She twisted round and surveyed her surroundings. She appeared to be in some kind of stone cell. All she remembered was meeting the stranger in Hogsmeade Square.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Virginia Weasley?" she berated herself, silently. She shivered and pulled her cloak further around her body. It was completely black in her cell, the sudden light made her wince and shield her eyes. The stranger she had met in the pub sidled in and smiled benignly. Ginny glared back.

"I expect you are wondering why you are here," he spoke in a clear voice.

"Yes." Ginny returned shortly.

"Well. My master ordered me to abduct and seduce you. It would make you more subservient and easier to control.. You see, Miss Weasley, you will be very useful in our latest plan."

"What plan would that be then?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"I cannot reveal the plans completely as yet, but they involve Master Potter."

"Harry? Wha-?" Ginny said, trying to rise to her feet. The stranger raised his wand and thin ropes tied her hands and feet together. Ginny cried out.

"And now I must leave you. I will be back later with some food. Please remember, Miss Weasley, that we never meant to hurt you, whatever becomes of you."

He left the cell and left Ginny sitting in the middle of the floor bound and helpless.

******

Draco lay back in his bed with a smile of pure ecstasy on his face as the beautiful girl he had taken to coffee that afternoon gently licked his inner thigh. It was now late evening and he had invited her back to his room, under the pretense of showing her his broomstick. She was certainly seeing at least one kind of broomstick. Draco laughed inwardly at the joke and gave a sigh of pleasure as the girl's tongue gradually began to move upwards.

"That ups my count to one girl, then," thought Draco, discounting Hermione.

Draco began to breathe heavily and then thought he caught a glimpse of the stars and a plethora of rainbows right before his eyes. Camille looked up and wrinkled her nose prettily. She swallowed.

"You don't take long," she said.

Draco smiled lazily. "All the more time to be spent on you," he purred.

Camille smiled suggestively and Draco winked back at her. She pulled him on top of her and whispered:

"I think you should return the favour."

Draco smiled and ran his tongue over his lips. It was going to be a good night then.

******

Hermione woke up the next morning with a bursting need to talk to Draco. She got up and into the shower. She hummed to herself as she lathered her hair and wrapped herself into a bathrobe. She picked out some clothes for the day. She went down to breakfast, and her cosmetic charms seemed to be holding their own. She waved to Alina and her friends and went to sit with them at their table. Alina widened her eyes.

"You went to school with Harry Potter, didn't you?" she asked.

"Great, just what I need, another obsessed Harry fan," she grumbled to herself. Outwardly, she heard herself saying "Yes, why?"

Alina looked surprised. "You haven't heard? It's all over the news."

"What is?" asked Hermione warily, trying to sound casual.

"Harry Potter got busted trying to steal the Orb of Macrinus."

"Oh, that," Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "I'm sure that wasn't him. They've got the wrong guy. I was sucked in too at first."

"Yeah, well anyway, they were gonna take him to Azkaban, but he made a jail break. Rumour has it he's roaming the country right now, and he's armed!"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione snorted. She turned on her heel, scattering crowds of impatient hungry students and stormed from the Dining Hall.

She figured, that she could talk to Draco now. Morning seemed to catch his most amenable mood. She rapped on his door. She waited a few seconds, but there still no answer. She knocked again. Maybe he was still asleep. She was about to turn away when the door was flung open and an obviously and unusually rumpled Draco emerged. Hermione noted that although he was still wearing the clothes from the night before, or half of them, she thought drily, eyes moving down his bare torso, he still managed to look great.

"What do you want?" he said hurriedly.

Hermione stepped forward. "Draco, can we talk?"

"What, now? No, I'm busy, go and do some studying, or something, mudblood," Draco hissed. He really seemed in a hurry to shut the door on Hermione.

A sleepy voice exuded from the depths of Draco's room.

"Draco, are you going to be much longer? Come back to bed," the girl said. Draco flushed and the girl appeared at the door, wearing nothing but Draco's shirt. "Honey," she whined, contentiously. She focussed on Hermione sleepily. She couldn't even sense the tension in the air. "Hi," she waggled her fingers. Then, more to Draco than to anyone else said: "She's not that pretty is she?"

******

Harry had been flying for what seemed like days. He was well aware that the whole country was after him, so he could only fly at night. He rested during the day in places that he hoped were out of sight from the prying eyes of the Ministry. He touched down softly onto the grass and looked around suspiciously. He decided to rest here for the night. He found a small recess and crawled in. He wrapped his arms around his legs and felt himself sinking into a deep sleep....

Harry could subconsciously feel the cold, slimy hand on his face before he realised it was there. He woke up with a loud "Arghh!" and tried to brush the thing off of his face. He had assumed it was a spider, but when he opened his eyes, he saw, with a feeling of dread, that this was not the case at all. His eyes snapped open and he saw the Dementor's face only inches from his, moving in to administer the Dementor's Kiss. He scrabbled wildly for his wand. The other Dementors chittered. His fingers close around his wand and he whipped it out.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he screamed. A silvery patronus burst out of his wand. Harry did not stop to see what had happened next. He had seen it so many times before. He swung his legs over his broomstick, and with cloak billowing behind him, kicked off from the ground.

******

Ron had met with Dumbledore and felt disgusted. There wasn't an awful lot he or anyone else could do. He returned to the University and slumped into his room. It was late, and he didn't fancy spending the night alone, but most of the students had gone out for the night. He chose to go into the nearest small French town, which was a five minute's broomstick ride from the University. Armed with a broomstick, an anxious Ron, a frown besetting his normally laughing features, walked out of the door and kicked off from the ground. He circled around the small town square, looking for a place to land. He skidded to a halt on the ground and brushed the soil off of himself.

"That's what comes from landing in an ornamental flower bed," he thought.

He looked around him with interest, and spotted a small, cozy looking bar. He started towards it, but was side-tracked by an alley. In the alley was a door with a neon sign above it proclaiming: "LES FILLES SONT PRESQUE GRATUITES!". Ron looked around him shiftily before pushing open the door. He was greeted by tacky leopard print barstools and sofas and equally tacky music and flashing lights. He felt quite giddy. He sauntered casually over to the bar, hoping he didn't look to out of place and ordered a drink. He was shown to a table right by the stage by a smiling scantily clad cowgirl. The stage appeared to be empty, and the club was full of aging French punters. A man came through the curtains at the back. He muttered something Ron couldn't hear and pointed his wand at his throat.

"Monsieurs, je m'appelle Antoine," he boomed to the crowds, "et maintenant, c'est votre amuseuse favorite! Monsieurs, je vous présente Madame Frappe!" He bowed deeply and walked backwards through the curtains smiling widely.

"Ah," thought Ron, "now something's going to happen."

The crowd whistled and stamped their feet appreciatively. There was a sudden burst of music and the curtains were thrown back dramatically. A blonde vision in complicated black PVC corsetry faced the audience. She was carrying a black leather whip and wore thigh high boots. Ron was sure he had seen her somewhere before recently. She began a seductive pole dancing routine, backed up by other dancers. She stalked up and down the stage tapping her whip in her hand menacingly. Without warning, all dancers, save Madame Frappe, as she was called, left the stage and selected willing victims from the crowd. Ron was hauled up to the front of the stage with four other men. Mannumber one was laid across Madame Frappe's lap and whipped until he screeched and tears coursed down his face. Ron watched, with a pale face as Madame Frappe dealt with the men in quick succession. As far as he could see, the aim of the game was to last out the longest to win a free private lapdance in a back room. He bent over, determined to win.

"UN, DEUX, TROIS,!" Madame Frappe shouted into the crowd. This lasted until "TRENTE!", at which point Ron screamed out loud.

"Nous avons un vainqueur!" Madame Frappe yelled at the audience. She took Ron's hand and led him to the back room, amid many sighs of disappointment and envy from the punters.

She locked the door to the room and turned around, placing one hand on her hip. She sashayed over to him, and now Ron could see who it was. In the gloom of the club he had not been able to make her out, but now he could see who she was.

"Abrielle?" He cried in disbelief.

******

Hermione was livid. It was an understatement to say she was livid. She stormed down the library. She intended to look up the Macrinus Orb in one of the books, to help her understand why Harry would, if he even had, take such a thing. She scanned the bookshelves and located a magical encyclopaedia for 'M'. She flicked through and came to a description.

Macrinus Orb, The: The Macrinus Orb is something of a mystery to all alchemists of late. No one knows it's exact origin, although legend has it that it was made by none other than Rowena Ravenclaw, a founder of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. There is only one currently in existence, and it is held by the Ministry of Magic. Its powers are similar to that of a simple Polyjuice Potion; it allows the bearer to assume the body of another, providing that a part of that person is used in conjunction with the Orb. The difference between the Polyjuice Potion and the Orb of Macrinus is simple: The Orb Of Macrinus allows the bearer to remain the person they choose forever, or until they choose to change back or to another person. The Orb of Macrinus is also rumoured to have sacred healing power and is able to repel certain curses, one of which is the Cruciatus curse. These rumours are unfounded as yet . Attempts have been made to replicate the Orb, but all have failed. The Orb remains today, one of magic's mysteries.

Hermione frowned. She checked no one was looking and tore the page from the encyclopaedia and slipped it into her bag.

"I saw that," a cheeky voice behind her said. Hermione jumped, causing books to cascade to the floor. She blushed deep red and bent down to pick up the books. The boy helped her and just as she was about to reach for the last book, he did too, and their hands brushed. Hermione, however felt no sparks fizzing as she had between her and Draco. She looked up and into a smiling face. The owner of the face offered a hand and said "Hi, I'm Zack."

"Uh...Hi. I'm Hermione," Hermione stuttered, wondering why she felt so self-conscious. She raked a hand through her hair. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Hermione coughed.

"So, must have been pretty interesting, the thing you were reading," he said finally.

"Yes," Hermione responded, "It's about the Orb of Macrinus."

"Oh, I see."

Hermione sighed. She had to get a date to the ball. She had to rely on her girlish charms, which she really hated doing. She wanted to knock Draco for six.

"I don't suppose you'd like to go to the Freshers' Ball with me, would you?" seeing his surprised expression, she hastily added "Not that you'd want to, of course, I'll understand if you don't, or if you've already got a date...." Hermione trailed off, noticing the amused expression on Zack's face.

"Sure, I would love to go with you," he replied, with an easy smile on his face.

Hermione smiled back, and allowed herself a brief flutter of her eyelashes towards Zack.

******

After the incident with Hermione, Draco had followed Hermione to the library with every intention of apologising to her, even though "Malfoys never apologise" in his Father's words. He had planned on disguising his apology in an argument, but when he arrived at the library, his feelings of goodwill vanished as he saw Hermione talking to the Campus' resident man-whore, Zackary de Tritus. He watched as Hermione and Zackary flirted outrageously with each other, culminating in Hermione asking him to the Freshers' Ball. Draco felt jealousy surge through his veins. He watched as Zackary made his way out of the library, whistling with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Draco thought Hermione had more sense than that. Draco left the library and encountered Camille wandering along the corridor, looking angry.

"Hello, Camille," Draco said, and planted a kiss on both cheeks and her mouth.

"Draco," Camille acknowledged, determined to keep up her angry facade.

"Would you like to come to the Freshers' Ball with me?" Draco drawled, and winked.

This had an immediate effect on Camille, who beamed, the smile uplifting her whole face. "Sure," was all she said. She turned, and drifted away, hips wriggling.

******

Hermione floated back to her room. That was the first time she had ever asked a bloke out before. She set her bag down and opened the door. It was completely dark inside her room, she had forgotten to open the drapes. She could make out a figure lying on her bed. She panicked. She had no idea what to do. She crept into her room and shut the door quietly. She got out her wand and murmured "Lumos". The wand cast enough light for her to see the shape of Harry on her bed, fast asleep. She sat down at the foot of the bed and smiled fondly. Harry woke up.

"Harry! How did you get in here?" Hermione asked.

"Simple charm. Dementors tried to get me, so I had to come somewhere." Harry responded, squinting and rubbing his eyes.

Hermione felt a rush of affection for her old school friend. She launched herself at Harry, enveloping him in a bear-like hug. Harry hugged back fiercely. Tears pricked at Hermione's eyes.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously. "You look awfully thin."

"Yes, yes, I'm all right," Harry said distractedly. "Have you got any food?"

Hermione looked doubtful. She brightened. "Yes, there are some chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties I keep in my trunk in case I get hungry during the night. Harry, what happened? Did you really steal the Orb of Macrinus? If so, why?"

Harry unwrapped a chocolate frog and popped it in his mouth. "I've been on the run from the Ministry for days now, since when I escaped from my holding cell. No, I didn't steal it. I was working late and fell asleep in the office. I was ambushed in the office, making me look like the perpetrator. Basically."

Hermione gasped, her mouth an 'O' of astonishment. Harry continued.

"Hermione," Harry said seriously, "can I hide in your room, at least until this blows over? I'll be quiet. You just cannot tell anyone."

"Of course," Hermione said, her face pallid.

"I presume you know Ginny's missing?" Harry added.

"No! I didn't know that," Hermione faltered, "are you going to look for her?"

"Yes. Ron is too."

"Do you want me to come?" Hermione asked.

"No, I wouldn't want you to get hurt," Harry said, with a note of tenderness in his otherwise serious voice.

******

Ginny turned around as the door to her cell clanked open. The man held up both hands.

"It's only me," he said reassuringly.

Ginny sighed and turned back around. The man tapped her on the shoulder. She hadn't noticed before, he couldn't be that much older than she. She noticed he held a pair of scissors in his hand.

"What are you going to do with those?" She asked in a tremulous voice.

"Just cut off a lock of your hair," he answered. He cut off one lock and wrapped a red ribbon around it. He put this into a pouch and rolled it up inside a scroll of parchment.

"Where are you sending that?" asked Ginny.

"You'll see when the time is right," he answered and deftly cut off another lock of her hair.

"What was that for?" asked Ginny, angrily.

"That was for my own keeping," he smiled, patted her head and left the room.

Ginny turned and faced the small barred window in her cell and rested her chin on her hands. Tears rolled down her face. She buried her face in her hands and wept.