Music to a Dream

When Draco Malfoy awoke, the sun had just begun to shine, its light creeping through the heavy draperies that shaded his windows. He stretched slowly and reluctantly pushed the luxurious blankets aside. Only when he was on his feet did he remember the significance of this day. He got dressed quickly, though he was still sure to pick something that would compliment him. If a few moments could help him look stunning, then he was always willing to spend the extra time. He then proceeded to comb his hair until it was just perfect.

He quickly glanced in the ornate full-length mirror, and, once he was satisfied with his appearance, he ran out the door into the hallway. He nearly ran into a house elf and glared at it furiously until it ran screaming. Mornings were never Draco's best times.

When he reached the dining room, his father was already seated with a cup of steaming coffee. Draco stared at the cup for several minutes without moving from the doorway until his father let out a sigh and slid it across the table to Draco's accustomed spot.

Draco smiled happily and ran to sit down. He wrapped his hands around the heavy glass and breathed in the scent gratefully.

"I heard just recently that coffee is supposed to stunt your growth," Lucius Malfoy said casually.

Draco paused mid-sip and stared at his father in horror.

"You lie!"

"Quite frequently," he replied.

"But, you're joking, right?" he asked desperately.

Lucius smiled evilly and turned his attention back to the Daily Prophet.

"Ah, I see your evil plan now, and, it won't work! You're trying to convince me to give you back your coffee. You can't have it, it's mine, my own, my-"

"If you start calling it 'my precious' you're going to St. Mungo's," Lucius said calmly.

Draco glared at him hatefully and proceeded to sulk for the next few minutes. Lucius looked up occasionally but did not choose to speak. When Draco wasn't looking, he smiled slightly and shook his head, amused by his son's temper tantrums. He snapped his fingers, and a house elf quickly ran into the grand dining room. It cowered as soon as Lucius looked at it, using the tattered apron it wore as a shield.

"More coffee," Lucius said.

It quivered slightly, locked in place, until Lucius glared at it again.

"Yes, sir, right away, sir," it whimpered and raced out of the room with its wispy hair flying about its face.

"Such terrible service nowadays," Lucius said in a dissatisfied tone.

"Did that nasty thing wet itself?" Draco gasped, staring at a puddle on the floor in horror.

"So it would seem," Lucius muttered.

Once more, the two lapsed into silence. Draco idly stirred his coffee, trying to create patterns in the swirling cream. After adding a bit more milk, he managed to create something that was quite similar to a mongoose, or at least what he thought a mongoose would look like, never having seen one himself.

"Father, what does a mongoose look like?" he asked.

Lucius rubbed his head slightly, feeling a headache coming on.

"Draco, don't you have more important things to think about, such as today's objective?"

"Good point. When are we leaving?"

"As soon as that house elf brings my coffee," Lucius snarled impatiently.

Draco stirred his coffee again and looked at the mongoose.

"You don't suppose one of Potter's friends would know what a mongoose looks like, do you?" he asked.

"They're going to be our prisoners, Draco, not some house guests, so don't start asking them about mongooses!"

"Is it mongooses? I didn't think it was mongeese," he said with a bright smile specifically designed to annoy his father.

The door creaked open slowly, and the house elf glanced about nervously. He crept up to Lucius and placed the cup on the table. After that onerous task was complete, he began to mop up the puddle which was merely spilled coffee.

"Come along, Draco," Lucius said, rising to his feet with the cup held tightly in his hand.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh and followed after his father, leaving the now empty cup on the table. To avoid observation, they left through the kitchen, sending the resident house elves into hysterics. Draco paused as they swept past the steaming stoves and sniffed. He grabbed a fleeing house elf by the ear.

"Get me a chocolate muffin," he ordered imperiously.

"Yes, Master Draco, sir," it whimpered, racing to do his bidding.

Lucius snarled impatiently and glared at his impetuous son. Draco tapped his foot on the cold stone floor, oblivious to his father's dismay.

"Draco, do you really need a snack?" he questioned.

"Why, Father! Don't you want me to grow up big and strong? A growing boy needs regular meals to help him mature, especially if he drinks growth-stunting coffee," Draco answered sweetly.

"Draco, just face it. You're going to be short," Lucius answered in an equally cavity-inducing tone.

He glared at his father and snatched his muffin from the returning house elf. He ran ahead of Lucius to the back door and slammed it behind him.

"Bloody drama queen, just like his mother," Lucius muttered.

Shaking his head slowly, he walked to the door and listened at it carefully for a surprise attack from his child. After a distinct lack of suspicious sounds, he pried open the door carefully. Draco was sitting on the granite steps, munching innocently on his chocolate muffin. He looked up at his father blandly and stood up when his father beckoned for him to follow. They followed the twisting sidewalk through the yard, until they reached the entrance of the garden. The interior was hidden by a dense wall of shrubbery of all sorts, including several dangerous and painful types. An iron-wrought gate was the only means of entering, and it was covered by a particularly thorny variation of the common rose that would not allow anyone to touch the gate. Lucius pushed Draco in front of him.

"Yes, Father?" he answered innocently.

"Open your bloody garden, Draco," he snarled.

Draco raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and shook his head slowly.

"What'll you give me?" he asked.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you build the stupid thing," Lucius muttered.

"I'm waiting," Draco sang out.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"A turn at guarding the prisoners everyday."

Lucius paused and thought for a moment. He had been considering giving his son such a position anyway so it was not as major of a demand as Draco obviously thought it was.

"Fine."

Draco stared in obvious shock. Lucius tapped his fingers on his cane impatiently, spurring his son into movement. The young wizard turned to the gate and pressed his pointer finger hard against a particularly vicious looking thorn. A drop of blood welled up, dropping to the ground the rose grew from. Very slowly, the plant receded, leaving the garden gate bare. Draco pushed the door open easily and walked through, followed by his father.

A path made of circular, flat stones led through the garden, which held a wide variety of plants, though the majority were roses. At the center of the garden stood a large water fountain. In it was a statue of a sitting fairy with his head buried in his hands. Several climbing roses clung to the fountain, fed by the ready source of water.

Draco and Lucius walked together to the far right corner of the garden which was nearly hidden by a vast overgrowth of plants. Sitting amidst the plants was a fairly nondescript pair of shoes. They both picked it up and the scenery quickly changed. They now stood in an alley beside a cozy looking house. When they peeked through a hole in the fence, they could see the window they were targeting.

"Do you remember the spell?" Lucius asked.

"Of course," Draco said imperiously.

They began to speak the words in unison and the air grew heavy with tension. When they finished, they noticed a stirring from behind the window.

"If it works, she should head straight into the trap. Now, the Weasleys are next," Lucius said.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Draco asked.

He held out his hand, which held a small button, flashing the words, 'Potter Stinks'.

"Are you sure Potter will know that's yours? I thought most of the Slytherins had one," the older wizard said.

"They do, but Potter always blames me first," Draco said with a certain degree of satisfaction.

* * *

The Weasleys all stood in a small huddle at the bottom of the stairs, silent but for the occasional sobs of Mrs. Weasley. Even Percy was there. Apparently, the tragedy had helped him put aside his feud with his family. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione kept a tight hold on Harry's hand. Even through that minimal contact, she could feel the stress he was feeling.

"Oh, Harry, Hermione, I'm so glad you're both okay!" Mrs. Weasley cried, wrapping them both in a fierce hug.

Hermione glanced at Harry surreptitiously and noticed the pained look on his face. She gave his hand an encouraging squeeze, which he swiftly returned.

"Do we know anything?" she asked gently.

Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"Nothing yet. Moody and a couple of the Order are searching both our houses for any signs of trespassing. They should be back within the hour.

"So all we can do is wait while Ron and Ginny are in trouble?!" Harry exclaimed.

Mr. Weasley nodded glumly. Harry looked down at his feet for a moment than back up at the two weary parents.

"I'm sorry," he said, and left the room after freeing his hand from Hermione's grasp.

She smiled apologetically at the Weasleys and ran after him. After a few paces, she heard two more sets following her. She glanced behind her and saw the twins, both of their eyes red from weeping but still looking determined.

"Feeling guilty, huh?" one of them asked.

She nodded.

"Just like him."

"Taking blame where none should be given."

"A real martyr."

"We'll have to set him straight.

Hermione nodded and smiled, pleased with their support.

* * *

Harry had retreated to the kitchen and sat slumped in one of the chairs surrounding the counter. For the moment, he was alone, but he knew Hermione would not be long in coming. She was always there to comfort him, even when he felt better alone. It was hard to forget his guilt when he was around her because Ron had never been far away from Hermione. Harry kept expecting to see his friend leaning on Hermione's shoulder and laughing, but he never was. Though Ron had only been missing a few hours, it had seemed to stretch into an eternity.

The door to the kitchen opened slowly, heralded by a few squeaks and creaks. Harry looked up wearily, expecting one face but finding three. Fred and George grinned and walked through the door that Hermione held open. They pulled up three of the remaining chairs and promptly dropped into two of them. Hermione took the last chair and smiled at Harry.

"What do you guys want?" Harry asked wearily.

"You to stop sulking," one twin said.

"I'm not sulking!"

"Pouting, then," the other said.

"I'm not pout-"

"Yes, you are," the twins said in unison.

Harry looked at Hermione for support. She shook her head mutely, trying to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face.

"I have a reas-" he began.

"Yes, we bloody well know your reasons-"

"And we think they're bloody ridiculous."

"Ron and Ginny could die because of me!" Harry cried.

The twins let out identical sighs of exasperation.

"Did you give them to the Death Eaters?"

"No!"

"Then how can it be your fault?"

Harry paused and looked down at his feet than back up at the twins. He shrugged, unwilling to argue anymore.

"Glad that's settled. No more melodramatic crap, right, Harry?" the twins asked.

"No," he said and smiled.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said and hugged him.

The twins put up with the tender moment for a few seconds but quickly lost patience.

"Now, for the important stuff, like going to rescue our siblings," the one who Harry thought was George said.

Hermione turned to stare at him, her eyes wide with shock.

"Us? Shouldn't we let the Order handle this?" she asked weakly.

The twins shook their heads.

"I don't think they have any idea what to do so it's up to us," Fred said.

"But we don't even know where they are!"

"So we'll have to look for clues. The Order has to have some idea where they are. That's what spies are for."

"Professor Snape!" Harry exclaimed.

"Where!?"

"No, Snape must know," he explained.

"Good point, Harry," Hermione said.

The twins looked at each other as if communicating some shared thought. In unison, they looked at the other two.

"One problem. No one's seen Snape in over a week."

"He went to a meeting to spy and never came back."

Harry buried his face in his hands for a moment.

"Do you think they killed him?" he asked, still speaking through his hands.

"We don't know. No one will talk about it around us and Mum's on the lookout for the Extendable Ears."

Harry put his hands down and grasped Hermione's shaking hand. She threaded her fingers through his, holding on tightly.

"Maybe the searchers will find something," Hermione said.

"Maybe."

"Of course they'll find something," Fred said.

"Harry can't come to the rescue if he doesn't know where to go," George continued.

"And they want Harry to come to the rescue," Fred finished.

Hermione gasped and squeezed Harry's hand in excitement.

"They're right, Harry! There'll have to be some clue! See, Harry, there's still hope."

Harry nodded but stayed silent, wondering if there was hope for all the missing. If Snape had been found out, he was dead.

* * *

When Ron awoke, everything was black and not just any normal nighttime black. It was the black of underground places, where no light ever shone. It was the sort of black that held dripping water and rusty chains. It was the sort of black which hid rats, and crawly things, such as spiders. Ron hated spiders.

He shivered in the dark as a drop of water hit his head.

Great. Dripping water, he thought. Now for the chains and spiders. Oh, please don't let there be any spiders.

It took him a few more moments to forget the spiders and remember what had happened. He groaned aloud, realizing how dire the situation was.

I should have known something was up with Ginny. But how could it have been the Imperius curse? I thought she was taught how to defend against that last year. All the fifth years were supposed to learn.

He shrugged mentally, realizing he was unlikely to find a solution here. First, he had to find Ginny and figure out where they were. He felt around in the dark, cringing slightly as he imagined horribly poisonous spiders. He touched a broken piece of chain fastened to the wall, but it obviously wasn't used anymore.

"Ginny?" he whispered quietly, afraid to wake up any sleeping guards or spiders.

A soft moan answered him and he quickly traced it to what might be the far corner of the room. It was too dark to see any shape so he began to slowly move alone the wall, keeping his hand on it the whole time. After about two feet, he felt a web-like substance brush his hand. He snatched his fingers away, listening for the scitter-scatter of eight-legged creatures. There was no sound, but he did not return his hand to its place. Instead, he walked in a reasonably straight line until he reached the corner. He felt a soft surface meet his shoes and another moan greeted him. He reached out his hand and felt human hair and a human face.

"Ginny, wake up," he whispered.

She stirred slightly, but did not awaken.

"Ginny, please."

He felt the soft flutter of eyelashes against his skin and the quickening of warm breath. He sighed in relief and patted her head reassuringly.

"Ron?" she whimpered.

"Yeah, it's me," he answered.

She sat up slowly and looked around, though it couldn't have told her much of their current surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asked.

He shrugged than realized she couldn't possibly see him do so.

"I don't know. Probably Malfoy Manor. I don't know if you remember, but the Malfoys kidnapped us."

"I-I remember a little. Ron, I'm so sorry I got us into this," she cried.

Ron patted her head again, trying to calm her.

"It's not your fault. You weren't yourself."

"What did they use on me, Ron? It wasn't Imperius. I could resist that. This was different."

She shivered and pulled her cloak around herself. Ron sat down beside her and leaned against her shoulder.

"How are we going to get out?" she asked.

Ron's eyes widened, realizing she was depending on him.

Oh, crap. I have no idea, he thought though he was smart enough to keep his doubts silent.

"I'm not sure, yet. Can you tell if there's a guard?" he asked.

He felt her shake her head.

"No, I can't see anything."

"We'll just have to wait until we learn some more."

"Do you think they'll hurt us?" she asked timidly.

Ron was silent for a moment as he thought about their situation. It didn't take him long to realize why the Malfoys must want them.

"No. They can't hurt us, not if they want Harry," he said weakly.

He heard Ginny gasp in horror and clap her hands to her mouth.

"Oh, no. We're bait and Harry will fall right into their trap," she cried softly.

"Hopefully, Hermione will keep a reign on him and prevent him from doing anything stupid and heroic," he said.

"Has she been able to before?" she asked curiously.

He thought for a moment.

"No," he said glumly.

And if Harry doesn't rescue us, will anybody?, he wondered.