The Redemption of Draco Malfoy

Chapter Ten: To the Manor

Hermione opened her eyes in a daze, her vision blurred and her head throbbing. She took several deep, raspy breaths and looked around.

The room she was in was circular, its walls, floor and possibly ceiling (she couldn't actually see it) constructed of a large blocks of stone. There was no furniture in the room, and no other occupants; it was entirely featureless save for a large metal door that was set into the wall. It was rusted to a dirty bronze colour and heavily bolted.

Hermione put her hands on the wall behind her and pushed herself to her feet. Her legs were unsteady but they held. She tried to remember what had happened. She had been walking around the lake with Ron when they had heard the girl calling out to them. Ron had gone to help her; Hermione had felt someone cover her mouth and then a wand pressed against her back. Darkness followed and the next thing she knew she was here. Wherever here was.

She looked around the room again. Some of the stones on the walls were damp and there were mosses growing between those on the floor. That wasn't much of a clue but Hermione supposed she was somewhere wet, perhaps in a woodland area somewhere. The smells that reached her nostrils were fresh and pungent; they reminded her of a forest.

She took a step forward. A metallic rattle behind her told her she was chained to the wall. There were manacles bound around her wrists and ankles. Their weight caused her to sit down again. She huddled miserably against the wall and tried not to cry.

The sound of the iron door opening caught her attention. Hermione cringed, expecting to see a hideous, inhuman man enter the room. Instead she saw a tall figure, wearing black floor-length robes. It glided into the room and the door shut behind it. Hermione's first impression was of a Dementor. But she didn't feel the cold depression that usually washed over her in the presence of those creatures; she felt only fear.

The robed figure took a step forward; its head inclined as it looked down at her from the shadows of its hood. Hermione's heart began to race as two pale hands slid from the ends of the sleeves and went to the head. The figure lowered its hood.

"Welcome, child," said the Dark Lord.

Hermione opened her mouth and tried to scream.

* * *

Ginny sat by the fire in the common room, staring despondently into the flames. She was still having trouble sleeping. There was an almost hypnotic effect to the fire that calmed her restless mind and made her feel, if not sleepy, at least tranquil. She was lucky again, to find the common room empty; or so she had thought, until the portrait hole swung open, revealing Harry and Ron...

"...leave the cloak," Harry was saying as he stepped through. "We'll have to travel light." Ron came through behind him. They walked several paces before spotting her.

"Ginny," said Ron, looking startled. "What are you doing up? It's the middle of the night."

"I could ask you the same question," Ginny replied.

"We...went for a walk," Ron replied hesitantly.

Ginny ignored her brother's poor excuse. "What were you talking about travelling?" she asked. "Are you going somewhere?"

"We're not going anywhere," said Ron. "Just go back to bed."

"I'm fourteen years old Ron," Ginny replied resentfully. "I don't need you telling me what to do."

"Ginny...we don't have time for this. Just go back to your room."

"Where are you going?" Ginny demanded.

"Nowhere!"

"Tell me where you're going or I'll tell McGonagall."

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed. "Stop trying to blackmail us."

Ginny turned to Harry, who hadn't said anything yet. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Harry looked at her gravely for a moment, then spoke. "We're going to find Hermione."

"Hermione," Ginny said, confused. "Where is she?"

"She's been kidnapped," said Harry.

"Kidnapped! By who?"

"Voldemort," Harry replied simply.

Ginny's mouth widened in horror. "Voldemort took Hermione?" Harry nodded. "And you're going to find her?" He nodded again. "I want to come."

"What!?" Ron spluttered. "You want to come!? Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded.

"Because you can't," said Ron. "Just go back to bed."

"No," Ginny said firmly, standing up. "I want to come."

Ron looked at her as though she were mad. "I don't believe this," he said, and sighed with frustration. "You talk some sense into her Harry; I'll go get our stuff." Ron headed towards the boys' staircase, the Invisibility Cloak held under his arm, and sprinted up the steps. A moment later Ginny heard a door shutting. She turned back to Harry.

"I want to come, Harry."

"No," Harry said firmly. "It's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous for me, but not for you and Ron?"

"That's different."

"How is different?" Ginny demanded.

"We've been through this before. We're older."

"You faced Voldemort when you were eleven years old!" Ginny cried indignantly.

"I had to," said Harry. "If I'd had a choice, do you think I still would have?"

"Yes," Ginny replied. "You wouldn't have been able to just sit around doing nothing while Ron and Hermione were in danger. And I can't either."

"Hermione will be fine," said Harry. "We'll find her and bring her back. And I won't let anything happen to Ron."

"What about you?" said Ginny. "Who's going to look after you?"

"I'll be fine, Ginny," Harry replied softly.

"I still want to come."

"Ginny - it's too dangerous!"

"I'm not a kid Harry," Ginny protested.

"I know you aren't."

"Then stop treating me like one. You don't have any qualms with bringing Ron or Hermione along on your adventures, but you won't let me come."

"This isn't an adventure, Ginny. This is serious and it's dangerous and you could get hurt."

"I won't," said Ginny. "I'm not useless, Harry. I can help just as much as Ron can."

"I never said you were useless, Ginny."

"Then let me come. It'll be harder if it's only the two of you."

"It's not," said Harry, "just the two of us." He looked down at the floor. "Malfoy's coming too."

"Malfoy's going with you!" Ginny exclaimed. "You're letting Malfoy come and you won't take me!"

"We're not letting him come. He's part of the plan."

"Then make me part of the plan, too."

Harry looked at her with a pained expression. He sighed heavily. "Ginny...I don't think you should come. It'll be dangerous and...and if anything happened to you...I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

"Nothing will happen to me, Harry."

Harry stared solemnly back at her. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't," said Ginny.

Harry sighed wearily. "I can't stop you from coming," he said. "I can beg you not to and I can plead with you to stay but I can't stop you."

"No - you can't."

"Just...promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

Harry nodded grimly. A door opened on the boys' staircase and Ron came bounding down the stairs, wearing his winter cloak and carrying Harry's. "Let's go," he said, then turned to Ginny. "Go back to bed."

Ginny looked at Harry. He turned with a grave air to Ron. "She's coming with us."

"What!" Ron rounded on Ginny. "No." He shook his head. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," said Ginny. Ron opened and closed his mouth in protest. "I'm going to get my stuff," Ginny told them and hurried off to her room.

* * *

"Come on," said Ron. "Let's leave before she comes back."

"Ron," said Harry.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "You can't honestly be thinking of letting her come."

"I don't want her to," said Harry. "But if we don't let her then she'll just follow us and she might get hurt. It's better that she comes with us."

Ron goggled at him. "I do not believe this." He continued to look astonished for several seconds and then sighed. "This is crazy," he said. "She's going to get hurt."

"She won't," said Harry. "I'll make sure of it."

Ron returned his sombre look. Ginny came running down the stairs with her wand in hand, pulling a thick, winter cloak over her shoulders. Harry was relieved to see that she, too, had had the common sense to travel light. He had been briefly confronted by the troubling image of Ginny lugging a suitcase and her entire cosmetics collection down the stairs, asking them if they'd be stopping at a hotel along the way. But no - Ginny wasn't like that.

"Let's go," said Harry. "Malfoy will be waiting for us."

Now Draco, Harry thought; he'd be the one to ask for five star accommodation during a rescue mission.

* * *

Draco was indeed waiting for them, leaning nonchalantly against the banister at the bottom of the marble staircase that led to the Entrance Hall. He looked up when they arrived.

"About bloody time," he barked. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd..." He trailed off as his eyes fixed on Ginny, narrowing. "What's she doing here?"

"She's coming with us," said Harry. "And you can save your protests because they won't do any good."

Draco glared at Ginny, who returned his look with equal ferocity. Harry wondered if he should start taking bets on who would kill whom first. With two Weasleys to one Malfoy he still wasn't sure who had the advantage.

"Hey," said Draco, "if she has a death wish, who am I to talk her out of it."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron barked.

"This isn't helping," Harry interjected. "We need to figure out how to get to the Manor."

"We take a train," Draco intoned. "From Hogsmeade to Wiltshire. We can walk from there."

"Then let's go," said Harry. "The longer we stick around here the longer it'll take us to find Hermione. And that's time she doesn't have."

Draco pushed himself off the banister and headed towards the front doors, the other three falling in step behind him. He wasn't sure what to make of Ginny Weasley's presence, but he knew he didn't like it. The more of them there were, the harder it would be to remain inconspicuous. And having two Weasleys in the group would make them stand out like a beacon in the night. He should have done this alone, once he'd learnt of Hermione's capture. These idiots would most likely do nothing other than attract Voldemort's attention, which was exactly what Draco didn't need right now. He felt a stab of worry for Hermione, who wouldn't be able to avoid the Dark Lord's attention any longer.

They pushed their way through the oak doors and started trudging across the grounds, towards the entrance of the school. The stars were out in force tonight, lighting up every inch of the sky and twinkling like millions of tiny candles. The moon, brightest of all, hung ominously over the forest, its light allowing them to see a good distance ahead. When they reached the large wrought iron gates, with their gargoyle sentries, they slipped silently through the bars and headed towards Hogsmeade.

* * *

Hermione tried again to scream, but her voice had fled. She held her arms protectively across her chest and cowered against the wall.

"You are frightened, child," Voldemort said, peering at her curiously with his cat-like eyes. "That is good."

Voldemort reached out a hand and Hermione flinched. She felt the manacles around her wrists and ankles spring apart and clatter to the floor. She rubbed the feeling back into one of her wrists and tried desperately not to look at Voldemort.

"These are unnecessary," he said. "These walls will keep you well enough."

Hermione stared back at him, trembling with fear. Voldemort crouched down before her, lowering his pale face to within a foot of Hermione's own. He looked at her curiously, then raised a tapering finger and trailed it down her cheek. Hermione winced at the ice-cold temperature of his skin. At this distance it was impossible not to look at him, not to notice the way his skin seemed to be stretched tightly across the bones of his face. She expected his breath to smell repulsive and rancid, but there was no breath at all coming from his lipless mouth. He's not even alive, Hermione thought horribly. She felt a surge of sympathy for Harry, who had looked into that face so many times in the past.

"Do I disgust you, child?" he asked, looking into her eyes. "I was once as pleasant to look upon as any of your young friends. An angel, the women at the orphanage called me. And so I was, to their eyes. Their eyes saw only the innocent exterior of an obedient young boy - until I cut them out. I could have been as beautiful as Lucifer himself. But I saw that my flesh was weak, my humanity flawed and vulnerable. I could not live like that, not I who wielded so much power. And so I became this; this sight that you now cringe at." Voldemort drew a hissing breath. "It is good that you are afraid."

He rose to his feet once more, gazing down at Hermione. "Potter will come for you soon enough, child. It is his curse to run to the aid of those in need."

"You're wrong," Hermione said, finding her voice. It sounded feeble inside the large stone chamber with the Dark Lord standing imperiously above her. "Helping people is what makes Harry human."

"As I said," Voldemort replied, "his curse."

Hermione fell silent again, looking fearfully up at Voldemort.

"Wait here, child," he said, "Potter will come for you. And when he does, you will have the honour of watching me slice him open and tear out his heart."

Voldemort turned on his heel and stalked from the room, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him without the slightest push. Hermione shuffled further back, curling up and sobbing miserably into her hands. Harry would come for her - he had to. But what would happen to him when he did?

* * *

The Hogsmeade train station was deserted when Harry, Ron, Ginny and Draco arrived. It wasn't surprising, given the time of night, but the desolation of the station made it look almost sinister in Draco's eyes. He saw Ginny gazing about nervously and wondered if she was having second thoughts about tagging along on their little rescue mission.

They purchased tickets from a harried-looking wizard after they'd roused him from his slumber. He stirred just long enough to take their coins and hand them their tickets, then returned to whatever he had been dreaming about. Trains and tunnels, most likely, Draco mused with a smile.

The three Gryffindors sat down on a wooden bench to wait for the train whilst Draco detached himself slightly from the group and leant against a wall, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes gazing into the distance. Hogwarts castle still seemed ominously large from here, perched on its hilltop without a single light filling any of its windows.

In the other direction, Draco could see railway tracks stretching off to the horizon, a path that would lead them to the Manor and hopefully to Hermione. He was overcome by guilt now and worried about what Voldemort would do to her. She doesn't deserve this, he thought to himself, noting with equal resolve that he was the reason she was in this mess. His father had given him the task of kidnapping an innocent girl and Draco had accepted it as he had accepted all of his father's commands over the years. But no more, he told himself; he wouldn't blindly obey anyone from now on. Now he made his own decisions and his first decision was to find and rescue Hermione. He only wished he could do that without the help of these bloody Gryffindors.

Draco broke his reverie to see the young Weasley staring at him suspiciously. He glared coldly back at her until she turned away to look for the train again. Draco smiled to himself.

"I think I hear it," said Harry, standing up and gazing into the distance.

The sound of the locomotive's engine grew as it approached the station. The whistle sounded and it came to a rolling stop, its doors opening to release a scattering of tired passengers. Draco pushed himself off the wall and followed the other three onto the train. They stopped at the first compartment they passed and stepped inside. Draco followed reluctantly and sat down.

"Get your legs off the seat, Malfoy," Harry said, "we all need to sit down."

Sighing resignedly, Draco swung his legs to the floor and wondered how much of this Gryffindor diplomacy he could stand and for how long. Didn't they ever prize comfort over equality? Maybe he should find his own compartment. The atmosphere inside the one he was in, as the train began its journey towards London, became tense and awkward. Everyone made it his or her business to stare either at the wall or out the window.

It was several minutes into the trip when Draco began to become increasingly irritated at the secretive glances Ron was casting at him when he though Draco wasn't looking.

"Would you stop gawking at me, Weasley!" he snapped.

Ron rose quickly to the fight. "I wasn't gawking at you!"

"Then what the bloody hell were you doing?"

"I don't trust you," Ron replied candidly.

"Then I guess you won't be getting much sleep tonight, will you?"

"Ron," Harry said in a warning tone, "leave it alone."

Ron glared darkly at Draco and lapsed back into silence. Draco simply smiled until Ron looked away. Lousy git, he thought to himself.

"How far is the Manor from the station?" Harry asked, dispelling the image of Ron's fiery death from Draco's mind.

Draco shrugged. "About half an hour's walk."

"Don't you think we should figure out what we're going to do when we get there?"

"You're the Wonder Boy," Draco drawled. "It's your job to formulate the plan."

Harry sighed irritably. "You're the only one of us who knows the place, Malfoy, so you'd better tell us what to expect before we go barging in and wind up dead."

"Oh, you won't be barging in," said Draco. "My father's got some nasty security spells around the mansion."

"Like what?" Harry asked with curiosity.

Again, Draco shrugged. "Paralysis Spells, Crippling Hexes, the Inversion Curse."

"Inversion Curse?" Harry inquired.

"Turns you inside out."

Ginny grimaced.

"Not very sociable, is he, your father?" said Harry.

"With the fortune he has stashed away inside the Manor, he can't afford to be. None of them are lethal anyhow - if they're treated quickly enough. The spells are designed to stop intruders so that my father can interrogate them. But walking around with your muscles on the outside does tend to lead to blood loss fairly quickly."

"So how do we get inside?" Harry asked.

"The spells are for intruders only. They won't have any effect on a Malfoy." Draco shifted casually in his seat. "Once I'm inside, I'll take the spells off so you lot can get in."

All three cast suspicious looks at Draco. He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Just make sure you live up to your word, Malfoy."

"Save your threats, Potter. As much as I might detest cavorting around with you lot, I'm not going in there alone. We're probably going to need bait and with the hair on these two we shouldn't have any trouble gaining Voldemort's attention."

"Hey!" cried Ginny.

"Shut up," Ron snapped.

"If we're using anyone as bait," said Harry, "it's you."

"Me! Why me?"

"You don't think Voldemort will be eager to chat with you after you let Hermione get away?"

"I didn't let her get away," Draco corrected. "I helped her get away."

"So you say," Ron added with a glare.

Draco glared back at him and the train lumbered on.

* * *

By the time the steam engine pulled into the Wiltshire train station, the entire party of four looked visibly relieved to escape the edgy confines of the compartment. Draco left first, followed by Ron, Ginny and then Harry.

The sky outside was still dark, with daylight still a few hours off. The stars seemed dimmer here than they had at Hogwarts. A few passengers had alighted from the train also, most of them making there way through a false barrier, similar to the one at King's Cross, to enter the Muggle side of the station. Draco, however, led them to the other side of the tracks where a small winding path curled its way through darkened fields. They followed him in silence.

Draco seemed to know where he was going, which was just as well because Harry couldn't see more than a few yards in any direction. The shadows around them had a particularly sinister edge to them; Harry kept his eyes peeled.

"Do you know where you're going, Malfoy?" Ron asked, voicing Harry's thoughts.

"Of course I do!" Draco snapped in reply. "You don't think I know the way to my own house?"

"Well, I don't know how you can see when it's so dark."

"I eat my vegetables, Weasley."

More silence ensued as they surmounted a knoll and then followed the path between a copse of trees. The ground was thick with large stones and fallen branches and made for difficult travelling. At one point Ginny lost her footing and staggered backwards. Harry's Seeker reflexes caught her as before she fell.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied, glancing at him briefly. "Thanks."

Just as Harry was about to ask Draco if he had gone and gotten them lost, the woods around them thinned and the light of the moon greeted them once more. They emerged out of the trees and the path widened.

"There it is," said Draco.

Harry looked ahead, off into the distance, at the enormous mansion perched on top of a low cliff. It was a lot smaller than Hogwarts but just as impressive and far more sinister-looking. It was a shade darker than the sky itself, as though it were a portal torn into the air. There were fires flickering in some of the windows, which rather than lending the dark edifice a warmer glow, made Harry picture the brightened windows as eyes watching their progress.

"You live in that thing, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"It's quite nice actually," Draco replied. "I mean, it's no cupboard but it has its charm."

Harry ignored the remark. They were drawing closer - though it still seemed miles away - to a large metal gate that bore a resemblance to the one at Hogwarts. Only instead of gargoyles it was adorned with two large, coiled serpents with their heads pointing away from the Manor. On the gate itself Harry could already make out a large, ornate M positioned in the centre. In fact there were M's all over it, and on the surrounding stone fence too. M's and serpents.

"Think awfully highly of yourselves, don't you?" Harry commented.

"It's called family pride, Potter."

Harry tensed, expecting Draco to make some reference to his parents. He wanted to preserve the tentative détente they had formed as best he could, but he wasn't sure if he could tolerate a snide remark against his parents. Draco, apparently, either hadn't thought of it or had considered the subject too taboo under their temporary alliance. Harry was thankful, either way.

"Don't we need some sort of game plan?" said Ron.

Harry had to agree. They were heading straight towards the gate and somehow those stone serpents looked more aware than they should. He wondered whether Lucius would know he had visitors as soon as they set foot on his property. Surely he had some kind of measure in place to warn him of trespassers, other than the security spells Draco had spoken of.

"The plan's simple, Weasley," said Draco. "I walk through the gate, remove the protection spells and then let you lot through."

"What then? Are we going to just waltz up to the front doors and asked to be invited inside?"

"You wouldn't be able to waltz, Weasley. I saw you at the Yule ball."

Harry interceded before things got out of hand. The last thing they needed, on top of the danger posed by both Lucius and Voldemort himself, was Ron and Draco at each other's throats while they were trying to stage a stealthy rescue. "How do you plan on getting inside the mansion, Malfoy?"

"Well," said Draco, "there's the back entrance near the gardens. There's the cellar entrance that goes underground. There're a whole bunch of windows as well. Take your pick, Potter. Getting in will be the easy part."

"Why do I sincerely doubt that?"

"Because you're a pessimist - how should I know? Getting into the Manor isn't supposed to be easy. On any regular occasion you'd be chopped to bits just trying to get up the driveway. But there's one thing my father never counted on."

"What's that?"

"That a Malfoy would try to break into the Manor. If one did, most of the security systems are worthless."

"Most?" said Harry.

"Well...there are a few non-magic security systems, per se."

"Like what?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Dark creatures," Draco replied shortly. "Crups, for one; but they're only dangerous to Muggles and Squibs really. There's a pack of Gytrash. Kappas in the water. Runespoors in the trees. And Cerberus - you want to watch out for him."

"Who's Cerberus?"

"Don't you know anything about Greek mythology, Weasley? Three-headed dog, dragon tail, mane of snakes..."

"You're kidding right?"

Harry could see Draco grin in the darkness. "Nope."

Ron looked visibly shaken. "Are you sure we shouldn't think this through a bit more?"

"We can't afford to," said Harry. "Hermione's counting on us."

"Right," Ron said determinedly.

* * *

"The letter has been sent, my Lord."

Voldemort turned to Lucius. "Good."

"It should reach Hogwarts by morning."

"You believe him still at Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked.

"It has been but a few hours since he received our first letter, my Lord."

"You underestimate Potter's determination, Lucius. He will even now be plotting the girl's rescue."

"But, my Lord," said Lucius, "he does not know where we are. He has no hope of finding her."

"That is true," Voldemort replied thoughtfully. "But heroes are headstrong; Potter will not sit idle while we have the girl." Voldemort paused contemplatively, then addressed his servant once more. "Have you news of your son, Lucius?"

"No, my Lord."

"You have not communicated with him since his betrayal?"

"No.

"Good. It is best he thinks himself free of suspicion. He will no doubt concoct a shrewd explanation for his failure. With it, we will lure him into a false sense of security and once he leaves the walls of that pathetic school, he will answer to me."

* * *

Dumbledore pushed the door to Professor Lupin's office quietly open and walked inside. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. At the front of the room, Lupin sat pensively behind his desk.

"Working late, Remus?" said Dumbledore.

Lupin looked up with a start. "Dumbledore."

"I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour," said Dumbledore. "But it appears I am not the only one having trouble sleeping."

Lupin smiled wanly.

"Have you had any luck researching the knife?" Dumbledore asked.

"No. No luck. It appears to be just an ordinary knife. No symbolic or ritual importance. I don't think we'll get anything from it."

"I thought not." Dumbledore gazed wearily at a flickering candle. "Still," he said, "this business troubles me."

"What are you thinking?"

Dumbledore looked to Lupin. "You know, of course," he said, "the brutal nature of the Gnyvark demons."

"I do," Lupin replied. "They were soldiers of Voldemort during the height of his power." Dumbledore nodded sombrely. "You think Voldemort had something to do with this?" Lupin asked.

"It is not unlikely," Dumbledore replied. "The demons will be the first to rejoin him, now that he has regained his body and all his erstwhile strength. They will serve him unquestioningly."

"And you think he sent one here?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "But to what purpose I cannot imagine."

"Who could have killed it then? Or would have, for that matter."

"Again," said Dumbledore, "I cannot say."

* * *

"I don't trust him, Harry," Ron whispered.

"I don't either. But we don't have a choice right now. He's the only way we can get to Hermione."

Ron let out a frustrated breath. "I hate that we're relying so much on Malfoy. We should try to find another way. He'll stab us in the back the first chance he gets."

"There is no other way, Ron. Not that I can think of anyway. This is the best chance we have."

"But what if this is all a trick? What if he didn't really bungle Hermione's kidnapping and he's just leading us straight to Voldemort."

"Voldemort already has Hermione. He wouldn't need Malfoy to lead us to him."

Ron sighed. "I hope you're right."

At the top of the stone wall, Harry saw Draco's darkened form drop out of sight. A moment later he was standing on the other side of the gate, looking at them through the bars.

"I thought you said you could walk through the gate," said Ron.

"I could, but then my father would hear it opening and know we're here." Draco brushed his clothes off with his hands. "Damn stones," he said. "I scuffed my shoes."

"Disarm the security spells, Malfoy," said Harry.

Draco looked up with a smirk. "You know, if I didn't know better Potter, I'd say you didn't trust me."

"Then obviously you don't know better. Disarm the spells."

"Pushy git, aren't you?" Draco took out his wand and started muttering counter curses on a section of the stone wall. Obviously, they would have to climb over it too.

As Draco was disarming the security spells, Harry took the opportunity to talk to Ginny. "You haven't said much," he said.

Ginny smiled weakly. "I guess I haven't."

"If you're having second thoughts, Ginny..."

"I'm not," Ginny replied resolutely. "I'm coming with you."

Harry nodded. "Just stick close, okay. I don't want you to get hurt."

Ginny smiled at him and then looked over at the wall. "I think Malfoy's finished."

Harry saw that he had. "Hurry up," Draco's voice called over the wall. "And make sure you climb over this section of the wall. You'll be fertiliser for the gardens if you don't."

Harry approached the wall with Ron and held his hands out for Ginny. "Come on," he said, helping her up until she could grab the top of the wall and hoist herself over. Harry scrambled up after her and dropped down beside Ron.

"Which way, Malfoy?" he asked.

"We'll try the cellar. It goes through the kitchens and the house elves won't ask questions."

They started walking along a narrow path that wound its way around the back of the property. Harry found the atmosphere of the Manor's grounds far more unnerving than he had the woods that surrounded them. Every rustling bush and every falling leaf was a potential death trap after hearing what Draco had said about the creatures that resided here.

"Which floor is the study on?" Harry asked Draco, looking up at the mansion.

"Second," said Draco. "Once we make it through the kitchens we should be able to--."

He didn't finish, as at that moment loud screech pierced the air. All four of them followed the noise with their eyes, looking up at the sky. Above them, Harry could see a patch of black that was a shade darker than the sky around it. It was moving, too; circling down towards them. An owl, Harry realised.

Only it wasn't an owl. It was a bird, larger and far more sinister looking than any owl he had ever seen. Its feathers, legs and beak were all black, allowing it to blend invisibly into the night. Its eyes though, were a dark blood-red. It looked evil, Harry thought; if it was possible for an animal to be evil. Of course, he knew it was.

The large bird carried a letter in its beak, which it dropped carelessly on the ground. With its parcel delivered it took flight once more, a giant silhouette against the moon.

All four of them stared down at the envelope. It bore a wax seal. Even in the darkness Harry could see a skull and snake printed on it. He bent down and picked it up. He slid it open and unfolded the note inside, then lit his wand and read it by its light.

Harry Potter,

The time has come for our exchange. Miss Granger, you should know, has not been harmed, as yet. You should also know that her continued well-being is contingent upon acquiescence to the following demands:

You are to be at Godric's Hollow at dawn tomorrow. You will come alone and tell no one of the purpose of your excursion.

Failure to comply with these demands will incur direct harm upon Miss Granger. We will begin by removing her fingers, and will continue to do so, until they have been met. Her welfare lies within your hands Mr. Potter. Handle it wisely.

Harry swallowed stiffly.

"From Voldemort?" Draco asked.

Harry handed him the letter in a trembling hand. Draco held it underneath the light from Harry's wand and began to read it, along with Ron and Ginny.

"Oh, my God," said Ron, when he was close to the end. Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth. They finished at the same time and looked up at Harry - Ron with alarm, Ginny with concern and Draco with sombre determination.

"This doesn't change anything," said Draco.

"It changes everything!" Ron exclaimed. "He's going to cut her fingers off if Harry's not at Godric's Hollow tomorrow morning."

"He's going to kill her anyway - even if Potter's there."

"He's right, Ron," said Harry. "Voldemort won't let Hermione go."

Ron stared at Harry with an expression of hopeless terror. Harry couldn't blame him. Perhaps it hadn't dawned on Ron yet but the simple fact was that Hermione's only chance at life rested with them. Unless they could save her, she was as good as dead. It weighed heavily on Harry's heart, but he had been forced into these situations before and there was no use in contemplating how hopeless it looked. Action was what they needed, both for the sake of Hermione and for the comfort of their minds. If they didn't focus now, they would be overwhelmed by despair.

"Why Godric's Hollow?" Draco asked, peering down at the letter.

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "That's where he killed my parents."

Draco looked up. "Oh. Sadistic bastard, isn't he?"

"So you're not going?" asked Ron.

"No," Harry replied. "Our best chance is to find Hermione. We're going to run into Voldemort whatever we do, that can't be helped. If the two of you don't want to come - I'll understand."

"No," Ron replied firmly. "I'm coming."

"Me, too," said Ginny.

Harry nodded. He would have preferred them to stay, but he knew that nothing short of Stunning them would keep them away from the Manor when Hermione was in danger. And Harry didn't want to do this alone.

"All right," he said. "We'd better keep going."

They continued walking, gazing warily around at the shadowy vegetation that could be hiding anything in its depths. They arrived unscathed, however, at a large wooden door that looked bolted shut. It was set into the ground and reached by going down several stairs. It was even darker down here.

"Alohomora," Draco whispered and then slid the latch open. He pushed the door wide and walked through, the others following close behind.

Again the darkness increased, so that now Harry couldn't see a thing at all, even with the door open. Draco doubled back and closed it behind them. "Lumos," he muttered, and they all followed suit.

There were shelves along the walls that stretched off for what looked like miles to Harry. Each of them was filled with bottle after bottle of old wines and wizarding liquors.

"Anyone fancy an eighty-two Chateau Petreuse?"

"We're trying to find Hermione, remember?" Harry said coldly.

"Right," said Draco, and he started walking through the shelves. They followed him to a set of steps that ascended to another large wooden door like the one they'd passed through. Draco unlocked it and walked inside.

The kitchen was a cavernous room close to half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was riddled with benches full of pots, pans, cooking utensils and some bizarre items that hung from the ceiling which looked like red onions. Expensive Malfoy delicacies no doubt.

Harry followed Draco to a third door that opened into a large dining hall. A long wooden table sat in the centre of the room with high-backed regal-looking chairs placed around it. Draco crossed the room and turned into a hallway that led them to a staircase. They went up and arrived on the second floor.

* * *

Draco was beginning to see the irony in this whole affair. If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have laughed aloud at the fact that he was helping Potter and two Weasleys break into his home. He joked often enough, though, to alleviate the fear he felt for Hermione. He only hoped she was still alive, or at least, still in one piece. And knowing from his father what the Dark Lord was capable of, he hoped that quite literally.

The others followed him down the hallway in quiet vigilance. The family portraits were all snoozing in their frames on the wall, aside from a few who had left to pursue other nightly activities. Draco kept a wary eye on them, in case any of them woke up and saw his non-Malfoy cohorts. If his father was in the house, the portraits would alert him to their presence. Draco didn't think he would be though. With Potter's meeting with Voldemort only a few hours away, Lucius would undoubtedly be conferring with the Dark Lord, probably trying to decide the most painful way to kill Harry. Draco spared no thought for the scar-faced Gryffindor. He didn't care what Potter and his little gang got themselves into - he only wanted to find Hermione and apologise to her.

Once they'd progressed further down the hallway, Draco stopped and held out a hand. "This is it," he said, pointing at the door beside him.

"That's your father's study?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "Come on," said Draco. Instead of starting towards the door he led Harry, Ron and Ginny further up the hall and into a darkened alcove. "Get in here," he told them.

"What? Why?"

"You need to hide," said Draco.

"While you do what?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled. "Let my father know I'm home."

The three of them looked back at him with puzzled expressions. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Potter," Draco sighed, "I'm a Slytherin. Cunning plans are my speciality. Now quit worrying and get in the bloody corner."

Harry looked suspiciously at Draco, but complied. He retreated into the shadows along with Ron and Ginny, their faces now hidden from sight. Draco made sure they wouldn't be seen, and then walked back down the hall to his father's study.

There was a table opposite the door and on it was an expensive French vase. Narcissa had bought it in Paris when Draco was young. It was enchanted so that flower cuttings never dried up or died when they were placed inside. This one never held flowers though. Although Draco's mother was permitted a few feminine accoutrements in the rooms she frequented, his father would not permit such things as flowers in plain sight, and certainly not outside his study. It was an expensive vase and one that his mother was particularly fond of. But, nevertheless...

Draco picked the vase up and held it high in the air, then let it drop to the ground. The sound it made as it shattered on the stone was ear splitting, echoing through the silent halls of the Manor. If anyone were home, they would surely hear the racket. And hear it they did.

After another minute, Draco heard footsteps replace the echoes of the broken vase. They drew closer and then rounded the corner, announcing his father's arrival. Lucius' face was surprised, though not as surprised as it could have been. He probably hadn't expected Draco's sudden return home, but then it didn't appear as though he'd ruled it out either. He took several steps forward and then stopped, raising his chin and eyeing Draco with cold malice. There was a sinister curl to his lip that told Draco his father was suppressing a great deal of rage.

"Draco," said Lucius, "what a surprise."

"Hello, Father."

Lucius took another step forward, his robes scraping the stones. "And to what," he said evenly, "do I owe this pleasure?"

"You know why I'm here, Father."

"Indeed - though I had hoped it wasn't true." The pretence of congeniality fell like a curtain from Lucius' face, and there was only disappointment and disgust behind it. "So," he said, "you have betrayed me. You have forsaken your family and your destiny, for the sake of a Mudblood girl who will not live to see the sun rise."

Draco swallowed the anxiety his father's words stirred inside him. "She's not so bad once you get to know her," he replied flippantly. "And as for my destiny - that's not yours to decide."

"Idiot child," Lucius spat. "You belong to me, just as this house and all its effects belong to me. Your destiny is what I say it is and nothing more. And I say your path lies with the Dark Lord. You have been his since birth. You were meant to serve him - made to serve him - and now you have forsaken your once chance at true power. You are a fool."

Every fibre of Draco's being told him it was wrong to rebel against his father. He had been taught to obey, to scorn others, and to be loyal to none save his family. That was the Malfoy way. But he was tired of listening to his father's instructions, of blindly following both his and Voldemort's orders, however unscrupulous they were. He couldn't do that anymore, not with Hermione lost and the spectre of death lying in wait.

"I'm not, Father," Draco said softly. Lucius narrowed his eyes dangerously. "I'm not yours. And I'm not Voldemort's. I've already disobeyed him once and I'll do it again. I'll never serve him."

The air in the hallway seemed to become several degrees colder. A pause stretched out between them, Lucius using it to great effect. When he spoke, his voice was low and even, almost as though what he was saying was fact - indisputable. "You will serve him, Draco. He has plans for you that your childish mind cannot envision. There is nothing you can do. You will serve him - or you will die."

Draco felt thick ropes coil around his wrists and ankles. He was lifted several inches off the ground and pulled forward by an invisible force. He came to rest in front of his father, Lucius staring at him with cold hatred. "You are not my son," he said. "You are nothing."

With that he turned and opened the door to his study, Draco gliding after him without any effort of his own. Once he was inside, Lucius turned and locked the door and then walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a long silver box with the Malfoy family crest emblazoned on top. He walked back around his desk to the centre of the room. The ropes around Draco's left wrist instantly fell apart. Lucius opened the box, revealing a set of cigars. "Take one, Draco," he said.

Draco looked down at the box, as best he could, and then back up at his father. "Thanks, but I never touch the things. They'll kill you, you know."

Lucius was not pleased. His lip curled with distaste. "Foolish boy," he hissed, and drew his wand from his pocket. "Crucio."

Draco fell to the floor as the pain hit him, washing over his entire body like fire. It burnt his skin and sent bolts of pain through his bones. He gritted his teeth and clamped his eyes tightly shut; but he didn't scream. He had felt this pain before, throughout his entire childhood. He never begged his father to stop or yelled or cried. Not since he was five years old, when his father had chained him up in the dungeons for interrupting one of his dinners, had Draco shed a tear. He had been starving and in wretched pain; but when his father unchained him, he didn't cry, and hadn't since. His father was always more than willing to hurt Draco. But Draco didn't mind this time. In fact, he had been counting on it.

The curse wore off and Draco's mind cleared, his skin still stinging with the pain. The holding spell his father had used on him had worn off. Draco turned his shaky gaze up to his father and staggered to his feet. "Alright, Father," he said. "I'll do as you say."

He reached his right hand out towards the box of cigars that served as Portkeys, as he reached his left hand into his pocket. He gripped his wand firmly. Just as the fingers on his right hand touched one of the cigars, he pulled out his wand, aimed it at the door and shouted, "Alohomora." A second later there was a tug behind his navel, his feet left the ground and the world spun out of focus.

* * *