Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Hermione Granger Severus Snape
Genres:
Drama Slash
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 07/17/2003
Updated: 08/11/2003
Words: 114,996
Chapters: 43
Hits: 388,758

Snakes and Lions

GatewayGirl

Story Summary:
When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix LeStrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son? (H/D -- mostly friendship, progressing to mild slash) Sixth year. Rated R for unseemly behavior (drinking, stealing, and Dark Arts), occasional cursing (the non-magical sort), and off-screen violence.
Read Story On:

Chapter 28 - The Alliance

Chapter Summary:
Hermione in the Chamber of Secrets
Posted:
07/31/2003
Hits:
7,268
Author's Note:
The information about portkeys is no longer consistent with canon, but worked with known information pre-OotP.



The Alliance


During dinner, Hermione complained of a headache. After a short while in the common room, she left for her bedroom, saying she wanted to go to bed. Harry went in after her.

"Where will you pick me up?" he asked.

"What?"

"We can't leave from here. A dozen people just saw me go into your room -- I have to come out, again. Put on the cloak, and come up to the first landing of the boy's staircase. I'll be there."

"Then how do we get out?"

Harry thought.

"Okay, how's this? I leave here with the cloak, and put it on where no one can see, then wait for you. You come out, and if anyone asks, you're going to the Hospital wing for a Headache Draught. I'll follow you out, then we share the cloak."

"Meaning I trust you with it."

"Yes."

"I suppose."

"Give me time to get the Marauder's Map."


At the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Harry checked the map. No one was near. He slipped out from under the cloak.

"Keep that on, so Myrtle doesn't see you, and follow me."

Hermione giggled. "You meet in our old bathroom?"

Harry held a finger to his lips, shook his head, and went inside. He crossed immediately to the non-existent sink, and sat down beside it to cast the Ladder Charm. He swung his legs over the edge. "Down we go!" he exclaimed cheerily to the empty room, then stepped in and down onto one of the springy rungs.

In a moment, he heard Hermione, above him, feeling around.

"There's a ladder," he whispered. He reached up to try to guide her and heard a little yelp. He wasn't quite sure where he had touched her, but suspected it was some place he should not have. "Pull up the hem," he whispered. She did, making her feet and ankles visible. Harry guided her left foot to a rung, and she edged over. As she came down, he slid his hands carefully up her legs till he could grasp the vines on either side of her thighs.

"What are you doing?" she hissed down.

"You don't like heights, right?"

"Having you fondling me does not help."

Insulted, Harry went a few rungs further down, and they descended in silence.


In the tunnel, Hermione took off the cloak, then turned slowly to look around. "This," she said incredulously, "is the way to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Right."

"You've been hanging about in Salazar Slytherin's personal hidey-hole?! Are you mad?"

"Wait till you see the decor," Harry teased.

"Honestly, Harry. You are mad." Hermione looked down the dark tunnel and sighed. "Let's go, then."

They walked down the tunnel together. At the narrow spot, where the rockslide had happened, Harry moved in front. When they got to the chamber itself, the first thing he noticed was Draco, pacing back and forth in the band of torchlight like a tiger in a cage. Hermione, behind him, let out a whoop of amusement.

Draco whirled.

"There you are!" he growled.

Harry hurried forward, Hermione right beside him. "Hermione had some house business," he apologized.

"You are mad!" Hermione exclaimed, this time sounding rather more amused than critical. "Look at this!" She turned slowly in the circle of light, taking in the plastic couch, the narrow table Draco had spun from the floor, the school cushions and blankets, in Gryffindor and Slytherin colors, the extra quills and inkwells, and Draco's piled books. On the floor by the couch was the stiff plastic storage bag for one of the chairs. It currently contained assorted empty bottles, crumpled lengths of parchment, and various candy wrappers. She noticed the writing on the wall, and began to read it, a frown spreading across her features, but Harry tugged on her arm.

"The original decor is that way," he said, pointing. Draco began to pace, again. Hermione looked at the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin and shuddered.

"The basilisk came out of that thing's mouth?" she said.

"Mmm. And I've been inside there, as well as through all the corridors. I've spoken to every snake decoration I could find. There doesn't seem to be anything else dangerous here." Harry plopped down on the couch.

"Still! This was frightfully reckless."

Draco stopped in his circuit. "But it is exclusively ours," he sneered. "Or, at least, it had been."

"I wasn't going to send him off to another private piss-up with you," Hermione snapped. "I'm not supposed to let him out at all."

Draco whirled on Harry. "Why her?!" he screamed. "Of all the sodding swots it could have been, why the frig- -- Why her?"

"Because she's my friend," Harry said mildly, "because she's my house prefect, and thus guard, and because she is the cleverest witch -- or wizard -- at Hogwarts."

"And perfectly willing to walk out and take Harry with me," Hermione said boldly. Her hands went to her hips as she glared at Draco. "What have I ever done to you, Malfoy?"

"Done to me? Just made my life a living hell, that's all! Do you know what you've cost me?" Draco raged. "It was bad enough fourth year, when Father wouldn't buy me a new broom because your marks were better than mine, but last year we took O.W.L.s. I got eleven, which is very good, but Father had to check yours. Thirteen! No one else had gotten thirteen in the last forty-six years, but he hit me with the Cruciatus, just the same, once for each of the two I lagged you." Draco paused, panting with anger and frustration, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. Hermione stared.

"Well, if your father is a brute who can't bear to have his precious illusions shattered, I'm sure that's not my fault --"

"You don't have any right to be smarter than me!" Draco shrieked. "I hate you!"

He stopped, his breath still fast, his normally colorless face a hot pink that showed through his pale hair. Hermione stood frozen in astonishment. Draco turned away from her.

"Are you done?" Harry asked -- lightly, as if he hardly cared.

"Yes," Draco muttered.

"Bit strung-up tonight, aren't you? Wouldn't have anything to do with that letter from your father, now would it?"

"Fuck, yes." Draco frowned at Harry. "How did you know I got a letter from Father?"

"I recognize his owl, Dragon, same as everyone." Harry tapped the couch next to him. "Come over and show me it."

Draco moaned and pulled a folded piece of parchment from his robes. "Restricted," he said warningly, holding it high aloft.

"Got it." Harry looked over at Hermione to explain. "Letters from Draco's father tend to have a lot of protective magic --"

"Just the incriminating ones," Draco interrupted.

"So you mustn't touch this, among other things," Harry completed. "Bad things will happen."

Draco sat down next to Harry, which made the couch shift back slightly, pulled out the letter, and began to read:

My dear Draco,

The Easter holidays are fast approaching, and we have little time to catch up on your sorely neglected training. Had I realized you would squander your Christmas Holidays on shopping, flying, and that pathetic Potter boy, I would have insisted you come home. As I will have little time to waste on review, and you will, quite soon, need to be presentable before our illustrious master --"

Draco growled. "Frigging Mudblood madman," he muttered. He looked up, recalling himself, and said, with more self-possession than he had shown since Harry and Hermione arrived, "Your pardon, Miss Granger. And you, Harry -- I know you dislike that word." He looked back at the letter.

"So he goes on 'it would behoove you to ensure that review is needless' followed by a list of spells he expects me to be adept at by the holidays, and he's quite right I've been 'neglecting' them." He showed the list to Harry, whose eyes widened.

"You could just hand that over to Professor Horsyr as a reference," he commented. "Oh, wait -- there's one she missed."

"Where?"

"Sixth down."

"Oh, that. It's rather specific. It will turn a person's dog on them. It's cumbersome and not generally useful, but Father likes the agony factor."

Hermione actually approached, at that, and walked around the couch to look at the letter over Draco's shoulder. Draco flinched.

"No touching," he reminded her, but let her read.

"Your father wants you to learn all these? And in two weeks?"

"No," Draco said dryly. "Father has already taught me all of these. He is reminding me that I ought to have been practicing them and have less than two weeks to make it look good."

"You know these curses!?" Hermione sounded horrified. Harry checked the list, again.

"Well, you've got no problem with Osum Crema," Harry noted. "Or Umbram Jubo." He scanned down further and winced. "Did he actually have you make something's eyeballs explode?"

Draco pressed his fingertips to his forehead. "Harry," he asked, "do you really want to hear about it?"

"Er... I suppose not."

"Right, then." Draco refolded the letter. "Let's put this away. And expect me to be 'strung-up' as you say. Did you find anything, or have you given up?"

"No and no," Harry countered. "Draco, I think you better let Hermione in on the problem. We've got a bit less than two weeks, as you pointed out."

Reluctantly, Draco looked at Hermione, who stared back. Harry could tell Hermione was frightened, as well as shocked, by the list. He was a bit, himself. He had known that Draco knew Dark magic, but there was no harmless way to practice destroying someone's eyes. Even on an animal, Harry would find it unacceptable.

"Well," said Draco, in a crisp, aloof manner that Harry had come to recognize as nervousness. "The problem."

"Any time, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Simply put, Granger, I do not wish to become a Death Eater."

Hermione froze with her mouth half open.

"And no, I'm not, yet. I was at the Halloween 'party', which is what convinced me I didn't want to do it."

"So, er ... don't?" Hermione suggested.

"Ah. But you see, not being a Gryffindor, I don't want to die, either."

"We're not all as reckless as Harry."

"So you understand."

"No."

Draco pulled the still-folded list back out of his pocket and turned it over and over in elegant, long-fingered hands. "Do you suppose," he said, "that this man will permit me to refuse? Will his master?"

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked.

"Yes," Draco said. "Which is where my desire to survive the refusal creates a little problem. Father, by Wednesday's owl, instructed me to come home for the holidays. This is unusual. Combined with other messages, it leads me to believe I will be presented to Lord Voldemort, for the Mark, during that time." His eyes lifted from the folded paper to meet her horrified stare. "Harry thought he might be able to devise a way for me to escape the Dark Lord and all his Death Eaters. I consider this unlikely, but I will willingly try any scheme with an even chance of survival."

"And if we can't find one?" Hermione asked.

"Then I will take the Mark." Draco held a cool, aloof look for several silent seconds before curling down over one arm of the couch. "I'll learn to enjoy it, in time, I suppose," he said moodily.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Will you help with research?"

"Two weeks isn't much. Have you any ideas?"

"Well, Draco knows how to apparate, even though he's not licensed, but that can be traced too easily -- too quickly, that is. I was trying to figure out if a portkey would give him more time. If so, we need to figure out if we can do a portkey from an unknown point of origin --"

"I thought they needed to be place-to-place, on a schedule."

"They can be place-to-place on some sort of trigger -- the one that took me to Voldemort's ambush worked when I touched it. Draco thinks he heard of one that worked from any location, but he's not sure. In any case, he needs time to get from Hogsmeade to here, so if it can't give him a bit of lead time, it's not worth researching further, so trace time is the first thing to determine."

"From Hogsmeade, then what?"

"We can have it go to somewhere in Hogsmeade and leave his broom there, and he can fly to school pretty quickly."

"What if they follow me?" Draco asked.

"Will anyone have a broom?"

"My father often uses a contraction charm to carry one, when he goes out. I think many of them do when summoned."

"Well, that goes back to the lead time. Do you think they'd follow you on to the Hogwarts grounds?

"Depends on how angry they are, doesn't it?"

"Then it's just get to Dumbledore as fast as possible," Hermione contributed. "If you have a minute or two of lead time, you should be able to make it. Harry, I think you're correct about that being the crucial point." She paused. "Is there a reason not to go to Dumbledore now?"

"Take about two minutes to consider the political ramifications," Draco drawled. "You're supposed to be a clever girl -- I'm sure you can figure it out."

Hermione hesitated. "I suppose he couldn't really keep your father from taking you home."

"Correct. And no, I wouldn't award points to Gryffindor for that."

Hermione sighed. "Well, fortunately tomorrow is Saturday. We have all day to spend in the library."

"You do."

"What -- Harry and I are supposed to do this for you?! Too good to do your own research?"

"Hermione!" Harry reproached her. "Tomorrow is the Slytherin-Hufflepuff match. Draco won't be available most of the day."

"I'll show up when I can," Draco promised.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I am so sick of Quidditch!"




Chapter 29 -- Another research project