Four Weddings & A Funeral

Author's Note: I made a little mistake...I should've said there were FOUR chapters left, not three!!!

And thank you, by the way, for your reviews - much appreciated!

Harry sat up in bed, his heart pounding, automatically thinking Lumos! to dispel the darkness. His wand, the end of it sticking out from under his pillow and visible only to him, immediately glowed and he picked up his glasses from the small bedside table and put them on. He wasn't sure what had awakened him so abruptly as all seemed quiet - he could hear nothing - no movement, no voices. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was just after four in the morning; he'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. He'd lain awake since his meagre, cold dinner going over and over every possible tactic he may need; it was a necessary exercise and it helped to keep his mind from staying permanently fixed on Hermione where it really wanted to be...

Hermione! Her name reverberated through his mind and his whole body tensed with the knowledge that he still couldn't do anything. Damn your vile, ruined soul six ways to hell and back again Lucius Malfoy! he thought viciously. Harry had argued long and hard with Dumbledore and Neville about trying to provoke Malfoy into bringing everyone together - the only time he'd be able to ensure their safety. Harry believed it was worth the risk - Dumbledore and Neville did not. They both felt that if Harry persisted with any form of provocation, Malfoy would know Harry had an ulterior motive. The fact that there was any chance at all they were right was the only thing preventing Harry from not attempting to goad Malfoy into such a situation.

He swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his dishevelled black hair then resting his elbows on his knees, his head drooping. The enforced waiting - days of it - was hard to endure and he wondered how Ginny was faring considering how long she'd been here. And Hermione...Hermione...

As Harry sat on his bed, heavy hearted, Hermione slept restlessly, her Death Eater guard standing silently watching her; the guards had returned to each of the captive's rooms, save Harry's, after dinner the night before.

She had spent most of the previous day silently crying when she wasn't raging impotently at Lucius Malfoy after he, with Ginny and someone she knew couldn't possibly have been Harry, had appeared in her doorway. Ginny had looked distraught and Hermione was sure she'd been about to say something when her face had suddenly become blank, just as the man who wasn't Harry had kissed her. Ginny hadn't fought him in any way and Hermione was sure Lucius had used the Imperius Curse on her - just as she was sure "Harry" was a product of Polyjuice Potion. But it had been horrible nonetheless, seeing "Harry" kiss an unresisting Ginny - with the sickening sound of Malfoy's sadistic laughter remaining long after he'd left.

While Hermione stirred restlessly in her sleep under the ever-watchful eye of her guard, Ginny was lying, once again keeping her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep; she wasn't sure how much she had actually slept during the night as she'd drifted in and out of consciousness and had no sense of the time passed at all. When Malfoy and Carrows had brought her back to her room the day before, she'd sat in her damned chair, despair claiming her once more. She'd not moved until Latro had brought her dinner which she'd forced herself to eat, knowing that going without the meagre amount of food she was given was not a wise move. Knowing that her friends and family were doing their utmost to get them all out of here, she was determined to do her part, although it wasn't proving easy.

She'd felt sickened and violated as she relived the events of that morning - of what Lucius had forced her to do under the power of the Imperius Curse - of the way he'd been able to manipulate both her and his son. She wanted to hate Draco for loving her - for doing what he could to protect her, even as his father looked on. But she couldn't. Not in the way she had previously. She knew it was because she'd been the only one there that he'd appeared in any way "normal" or "nice" - if Harry or Hermione had been present he would've shown nothing but disdain for them as he'd always done, as he always would. He only cared about his feelings for her - he wouldn't do anything for her unless it was something he wanted to do - he wouldn't help Harry or Hermione even for her sake unless it served him in some way. Yet, sharing the suffering of Malfoy's torment that morning had created the most fragile of bonds between them and she resented that, resented Draco. She felt as though Dean was slipping away from her - as though she was being taken further and further from him - and was powerless to do anything about it. It made her want to scream - scream out her frustration and her hatred for Lucius Malfoy.

She wasn't alone. Draco Malfoy, too, had succumbed to despair on returning to his room the previous day. He'd curled up on his bed, a torrent of emotions ripping through him - first and foremost was hatred for his father. He felt violated and humiliated - he railed at his helplessness to do anything to help Ginevra. And his father had said he knew about his mother - whether she was alive or dead - but he'd restrained himself from asking for that information; he felt as though he'd be handing his father another weapon with which to torment him if he'd done so. He'd heard Phineas' barely audible, sibilant whispers but had no interest in communicating with anyone for any reason at that moment and had simply continued to lie there, curled up, lost in a whirlpool of pain and heartache.

*

The sun was well up the next morning when Lucius Malfoy, seated at his formal dining table, finished his breakfast, calling for his house-elf to clean up. When Latro crept nervously into the room, he stopped at his master's knee, waiting to be acknowledged.

Lucius looked down at the cowering creature, his red eyes glowing with disgust.

'What is it?' he asked impatiently.

'Nott has returned master - he is waiting in the study.'

Without taking any further notice of his servant, Lucius rose quickly and eagerly made his way across the hall to his study. He found Nott standing with his back to the fire, hands clasped behind him.

'Well?' asked Lucius curtly as soon as he saw the other wizard.

Nott smiled, not a pleasant smile but it brought an answering grin from his master.

'You have it.' It was a statement and the Death Eater nodded in response.

'Was Finnigan aware of it?'

'No, I made sure of that.'

'Excellent. We don't want him running to Dumbledore with tales of some strange wizard stealing strands of his hair.' Lucius' red eyes glowed with anticipation once more. Potter and Granger. This morning was going to be even more enjoyable than yesterday...

*

As Harry preceded Nott into the large drawing room, his eyes were immediately drawn to his left where Lucius Malfoy was sitting in a red velvet upholstered chair; a matching, empty armchair beside him, a round, marble-topped table between the two. As his eyes moved across the far wall with its with mullioned French doors overlooking a wide terrace and the gardens beyond, he could see a light, drizzling rain falling outside. Then his gaze reached the other end of the room...

Hermione!

She was standing, her eyes mutely fixed on him. A Death Eater stood on each side of her, holding her arms - the only reason she wasn't swaying unsteadily on her feet after her enforced immobility.

He gazed longingly at the woman he loved - she was still wearing the same dark blue jeans and light blue jumper he'd last seen her in. Her hair looked unbrushed, hanging down her back and over her shoulders. He could see his own longing mirrored in her dark honey eyes and had to once again force down the compulsion to kill Lucius Malfoy there and then - only too aware that upstairs, Death Eaters stood beside Ginny, who mattered - and Draco Malfoy, who didn't - ready to kill them instantly should anything happen to their master. He wasn't sure how they would be aware of any harm that befell Lucius, but he didn't doubt Malfoy had found a way.

'Sit down, Potter,' ordered Malfoy, his small, tight smile not reaching his red eyes.

Harry turned and glared at Malfoy, then walked slowly to the empty armchair, keeping his eyes fixed on Malfoy - holding his gaze, unblinking. The tension between the two wizards was almost electrifying, broken only when someone knocked on the carved wooden doors, one of the doors swinging open immediately afterwards.

'Our guest has arrived, I see,' said Malfoy smoothly, without taking his eyes from Harry who was unable to control the impulse to look away towards the door.

Seamus?! What the hell was he doing here? Why? Did Dumbledore and Neville know? Harry's gaze swung back to Malfoy only to find the older wizard was still looking at him - but now he was smiling and this time his smile reached his eyes, bringing a sickly glow to their dark red depths.

Harry quickly looked away and up at Hermione - he didn't want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of seeing fear in his eyes - his gut-wrenching fear for Hermione; his gut-wrenching fear that Malfoy was going to do something that would make him forsake Ginny's safety - perhaps forfeit her life - for Hermione's sake - and how would that make Hermione feel? Not to mention Dean - and the rest of Ginny's family. He shuddered; for everyone's sake he had to wait until the time was right - and somehow he knew it would be, eventually; he just had to endure until then. He could see that Hermione was staring at Seamus who had come into the room, closing the door behind him and standing there, staring back at Hermione, a smirk on his face.

Harry tried to will Hermione to look at him - but she seemed transfixed by the sight of Seamus. Harry wasn't to know that she was remembering how Lucius Malfoy had entered her mind the day before - bringing forth her memories - how she had felt a triumphant sensation as her memory of dancing with Seamus had been played out again - along with Harry's jealousy. She once again felt the enormous loathing she had for this twisted man writhe within her stomach - loathing that had she had learned so many years ago as a young student at Hogwarts. And was this really Seamus? She didn't think so. Seamus had never smirked like that in all the years she'd known him. And Seamus wouldn't be standing there unaccompanied in Lucius Malfoy's home looking as though he was a cat about to partake of a bowl of cream. It had to be someone else - it HAD to be! Suddenly, her eyes snapped to Harry. Did he know? Could he guess? Merlin, how she wished she could talk! She could reassure him that this was nothing but a ruse by Malfoy to - to do what? Drive Harry crazy? Sweet mother of Merlin! Would Harry be able to control himself - even if he knew it couldn't possibly be Seamus? What the hell was Malfoy doing? All this - this charade - for what? Why?

Harry's inner turmoil prevented him from deciphering any of the myriad messages in Hermione's eyes as she looked at him, her beautiful eyes wide and unblinking - it was as though she knew something - but what? He felt his fingers tighten around the end of the arms of his chair - they curled so tightly around the curved wood he felt sharp pain shoot along both his forearms - but he took no notice. Neville had made some comment at the time of Lucius Malfoy's escape about him becoming some sort of pathological maniac but he hadn't really understood what he meant until now and he was desperately wishing he'd paid more attention.

'Good morning, Mr Finnigan. You are well, I hope?' Lucius' voice was suddenly pleasant - although oily to Harry's ears.

'Very well, thank you Mr Malfoy,' came the reply in Seamus' soft Irish brogue. 'I see you have my favourite witch as a guest, also.'

'Indeed, Mr Finnigan. I believe she likes to dance.'

'As do I,' replied Seamus.

Harry was staring at Seamus. Seamus? This can't be Seamus! he told himself. His eyes flicked to Hermione - she was still looking at Seamus intently. She must be thinking that too! he thought, although it didn't help a lot. Harry had no idea which of Malfoy's henchman it was but it was hard to dismiss what was before your eyes, regardless of how untrue it was.

Seamus was walking towards Hermione and her two guards who had stood stolidly silent the whole time.

'Would you like to indulge in another dance, Mr Finnigan?' asked Malfoy, the tone of his voice raising the hairs on the back of Harry's neck.

'I surely would,' came the reply.

'Proceed,' said Malfoy simply, looking at the two Death Eaters that were holding Hermione.

On hearing that one word from their master, they moved away from Hermione who momentarily stumbled at the loss of support, but managed to hold herself upright, keeping her gaze on Harry. Harry, wearing her favourite "outfit" - she wished she could tell him how much it meant to her because she knew it would've been a deliberate choice.

Then she suddenly had to close her eyes as her surroundings seemed to blend and whirl madly around her - she felt magic at work and looked down to see herself in the same flowing, silver dress she'd worn for Ron and Luna's wedding then looked up to find she was once more at the wedding - hearing the music - seeing the people. Then Seamus was before her and at that moment, a gossamer cloud seemed to descend on her mind and this was real... it was the night of Ron and Luna's wedding... she was dancing with Seamus...

Lucius Malfoy actually grinned. He'd been right to "rehearse" with Draco and that Weasley traitor the day before - it hadn't taken more than a few hours for his deviant mind to "iron out the wrinkles" and he knew he was now conducting a masterpiece - worthy of his abilities, with players worthy of his attention...

Harry watched, fear and loathing etched on his face; he didn't notice one of the Death Eaters who had been guarding Hermione move behind Malfoy's chair and partake once more of Polyjuice Potion, this time staying out of sight until the transformation was complete and he looked like...Harry Potter.

Harry sat and watched as Hermione and Seamus once more swept majestically around the magically conjured dance floor; he lost sight of all the other dancers as their two figures became the focus for him. Hermione was laughing breathlessly up at Seamus, her eyes aglow with pure enjoyment as they'd been on the actual night.

Then Harry saw himself appear on the edge of the dance floor. How was that possible? He saw himself standing there, his eyes following Hermione and Seamus. It's some sort of hallucination! Seamus Accioed the pale pink rose and presented it to Hermione. He felt once again the bitterness of his jealousy on the night. Only this time Hermione didn't laugh lightly and kiss Seamus on the cheek by way of thanks. This time her expression because serious and Harry felt his insides twist as Hermione's hand went from resting on her partner's shoulder in the formal dance position to sliding behind his neck and into his hair, drawing his head down as she stretched up, her head tilting ever-so-slightly so that their lips met in a soft kiss - a kiss which quickly lost its softness and became very passionate. This is not real, this is NOT real! he repeated over and over to himself. This is not Seamus and Hermione has been enchanted. It's not real!

But despite the fact that he knew it wasn't real - to see something that previously would have only been an image conjured by his jealous mind - was almost his undoing. Then he watched as he - his double - moved from the side of the dance floor towards the two dancers. Hit him! Hurt him! STOP him! cried his mind as he looked on.

Lucius Malfoy was feeling triumphantly ecstatic, wondering how long he'd be able to milk this scene for all it was worth before Potter - the real Potter - broke his self-imposed reins and did - what? What would he do? He could barely restrain himself from rubbing his hands together in glee. This was just such a wonderful form of revenge that he momentarily entertained disloyal thoughts about Voldemort's lack of appreciation of this form of torment and torture.

Harry, uncaring of what Lucius Malfoy thought, was struggling to remain in his seat. He knew this wasn't real, he knew Hermione had to be under the Imperius Curse...and yet, to have his worst - and so far only - jealous fantasy playing out before his eyes was causing him to struggle mightily with his self-control. He wanted to reduce whoever was pretending to be Seamus to ashes and literally grab Hermione and immediately Apparate out of here, the words 'She's mine!' echoing in his head. But then Dumbledore's calm voice wound around his angry pain and need - 'Harry, don't forget that Lucius will employ any means to gain his twisted end - never forget that the safety of Hermione and Ginny is paramount - in other words, my dear boy, don't let him get to you.'

Trembling with the effort, Harry forced himself to sit back in the armchair once more, his tight, drawn features not revealing to Lucius Malfoy's watchful eye that echoing in Harry's mind were the same harsh syllables, repeating themselves over and over in a mindless mantra... He will die, he will die...

*

Hermione couldn't quite understand why she'd kissed Seamus of all people but somehow it had seemed the right thing to do. Then she saw Harry walking towards them, glaring at them. Her first thought was to smile at him, to break away from Seamus and go to Harry. No, no, you need to stay with Seamus, said a gently persuasive voice in her head. Hermione faltered, confused. Why do I need to stay with Seamus? What about Harry? Seamus needs you just now, you need to be with Seamus. Don't worry about Harry. But "Harry" had stepped into the path of their slow dance, bringing them to a sudden halt.

'Excuse us, Harry,' said Seamus politely.

'Go to hell!' snarled "Harry".

It was then that Hermione discovered she couldn't speak - and the gentle voice in her head was telling her not to worry, it was just a dream, not to worry...

'Hermione! Come here, to me, now!' "Harry" sounded vicious. 'I've seen quite enough!'

'She's dancing with me,' said Seamus quietly.

'Not anymore!' "Harry" grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled, abruptly separating her from Seamus. As she swung to face him, he brought his other hand up and slapped her across the face.

Lucius Malfoy had been watching Harry across the small space that divided their two armchairs, his enjoyment of Harry's obvious struggle almost obscene. As the sound of the slap resounded in the room, he saw Harry launch himself upright - simultaneously hearing an enormous rush of sound as it erupted around Harry, filling the whole room. It sounded like the fury of a storm forced into a small space as indeed it was.

Ignoring everyone and everything but the figure of Hermione as she stood, still in the grip of the Death Eater/Harry, one hand covering the spot on her cheek where she'd been slapped, looking blankly up at her assailant, Harry roared her name, his hair whipping around wildly in the magical wind. The sound of her name was caught up in the invisible, roaring vortex that could be felt and heard by all in the room. Unaware of the fear he was instilling in everyone around him, Harry strode down the room, the centre of the storm moving with him - he was the storm! - his face frozen into a mask of fury. As he came within a few feet of the two Death Eaters standing with Hermione, the two wizards hesitated only a second before leaving, stumbling backwards in their haste to get away from him, frightened almost senseless in the face of the raw and terrifying power buffeting them, generated by the furious man before them.

Harry reached Hermione as she began to crumple and caught her, picking her up before turning - her now unconscious form in his arms - his gaze locking with Malfoy's as he stood there. From his flashing green eyes and clenched jaw down to his feet, planted firmly apart, braced against the extra weight he was holding, he was emanating almost palpable waves of incredible force and power. The pleasure Lucius Malfoy had been deriving from Harry's torment was faltering in the face of this almost offhanded display of potent force. Then, even as fury still burned in his green eyes, the phenomenal surge of magical power began to slowly ebb now that Harry had reached his goal: Hermione.

Malfoy began smirking as he looked down the length of the room at Harry. Not so the two Death Eaters (who ludicrously still looked like Seamus and Harry); they were standing behind Malfoy's armchair as if putting their master between themselves and some terrible danger.

'Lost control, Potter?' sneered Malfoy and without waiting for an answer or taking his eyes from Harry, called out, his voice sounding as though it was passing over sandpaper, 'Bring her in!'

One of the large, carved doors swung open to reveal Latro, the house-elf, looking unutterably miserable, with Ginny behind him, still magically bound, a hooded Death Eater beside her, his wand pointed at her heart.

'Well?' asked Malfoy, his awful red gaze still fixed on Harry. Malfoy had known the chances of Harry losing control at some point were better than average and had had Ginny brought down in preparation for just that occurrence. He was sure that her presence, albeit under threat, would prevent Harry from employing any of his unusual powers.

'Going to let Draco miss out on the fun, are you?' spat Harry. 'Or perhaps you don't want your son to see what a foul, idiotic bastard his father his?' His throat was almost painfully dry as he forced out the words, his heart in his mouth. Dear Merlin, let him bring that Slytherin slime down here or I may just go ahead without him and he could die - not that I would care!

Harry watched with satisfaction as Lucius' face became suffused with colour, his red eyes almost bulging.

'How dare you speak to me like that!' he hissed. Harry simply continued to glare at him, challenging him.

Malfoy seemed to collect himself - he stood up slowly, the sickly colour draining from his face.

'Bring Draco down,' he barked, his voice harsh. 'Perhaps he may learn something of what he could have been.' Malfoy gestured to the Death Eater guarding Ginny to bring her in as "Harry" and "Seamus" both retreated with great haste from the room to do his bidding. As they stood waiting, still with their gazes locked, Harry concentrated fiercely on not letting any sign of triumph show in his eyes.

It was only a minute before Draco appeared in the doorway, although it felt like an eternity to Harry. The younger Malfoy's steps faltered as he entered and he took in the sight of his father standing in front of the armchair, his relaxed posture belying the incredible tension crackling in the air as he kept his gaze locked with Harry's. Draco's eyes widened as he saw that Harry was standing at the other end of the room, Hermione's limp form in his arms. What was wrong with the Mudblood? he wondered, Was she dead? No, he reasoned quickly, she can't be, if she was dead we'd all be dead - Potter would go berserk! In a strange about-turn, he understood this completely because he knew that if any harm came to Ginevra, he too would be a man without reason and with no responsibility for his actions. His eyes came to rest finally on Ginny who stood away to his left, her guard still holding his wand to her heart. No doubt, she was Lucius' insurance against Potter attempting to kill him and escape. He wished she'd look at him but she seemed hypnotised by the sight of Harry and Hermione. He heard the door close behind him and knew the two Death Eaters who'd escorted him downstairs were now behind him. Probably staying close to the door in case they need to bolt, the cowards! he thought with contempt; it had been obvious when they came to get him that they were scared and now that he was here, he felt sure it was because of Potter and not his father as he'd originally thought.

'I think, Potter,' said Lucius, his voice ringing in the silence that had hung over the room, 'that you should put your Mudblood down and come back here and resume your seat. I haven't finished yet.'

'And I haven't started,' replied Harry; his voice throbbed with menace.

'Start what?' sneered Malfoy. 'You're hardly in a position to do anything, Potter!'

'You're mistaken, Malfoy,' said Harry in the same low, menacing voice.

Draco, very aware that Ginny's life hung by a thread, felt his heart pounding and before he could stop himself, he'd spoken.

'Potter! Don't do anything foolish, you idiot! What about Ginevra?' His arm swung around to indicate Ginny who still hadn't taken her eyes off Harry.

His father turned suddenly and glared at Draco.

'You disgust me!' he spat. 'You with your revolting obsession for that -' he waved his hand dismissively in Ginny's direction, '- traitorous piece of filth!'

'Shut up! Damn you - shut up!' Draco roared, feeling his own anger escalating beyond manageable levels.

'Hmm, I touched a nerve, I see,' said Lucius, a smile pulling at his mouth.

Draco felt the hatred and anger that had been building within him for all the months he'd had to care for his mother begin to expand - he felt that every part of his mind and every corner of his heart held nothing but pure, cold hatred for this disfigured wizard before him and more than anything he wanted to feel his hands around his father's throat, squeezing the unnatural life out of him...

Ignoring Draco, Lucius turned once again to Harry. 'There's no hope for him, I feel,' he said uncaringly. 'I'll kill him later. Now, put the Mudblood down, Potter and come back here. I think a simple Enervate will be enough to get her up and dancing again, don't you? I'm rather looking forward to seeing what else we can persuade her to do.'

Harry's vision blurred from ferocity of the anger that coursed through him and he knew he had to do it now, before Draco lost control and did something unexpected and foolish...before he himself lost control...

He worked at pushing his anger back, aware it would only hinder him. Then he stumbled as Hermione's weight vanished from his arms and he looked around wildly as his eyes sought her, coming to rest on her as she stood within the circle of Lucius Malfoy's arms; he was supporting her, although it appeared he must have used the Enervate! charm as Hermione was partially conscious, trying valiantly to keep her head up and look around.

Malfoy looked straight at Harry, his soulless eyes glinting redly, his thin lips working, his voice coming out as a dry, sibilant rasp: 'I did tell you, didn't I Potter, that I always eventually get what I want.' His eyes flicked momentarily to the Death Eater guarding Ginny and then to the two standing behind Draco.

'Kill them!' he roared, Hermione flinching as his hot, foul breath washed over her face. Harry's head snapped back, his eyes closing as forces not familiar to any normal wizard or witch gathered instantly within him, their target Lucius Malfoy and his minions, their cause the horror of Lucius Malfoy's machinations and their goal: destruction of evil.

As Harry, beginning to draw on the power coalescing within him, brought his head up to once more gaze upon Lucius Malfoy, the air within the room became charged with so much magical energy that it crackled and sparkled in the very air, although the room's occupants were too terrified to appreciate the beauty of the display.

As the power within and around Harry mounted, Lucius Malfoy was treated to a sight witnessed by only one other wizard in history: Voldemort.

What happened next was painstakingly reconstructed from many hours of discussion and talks amongst those who were present (and lived to tell the tale) including the limited use of Legilimency by Dumbledore.

*

Once all the details had been captured and set down on parchment, Neville Longbottom read over that final report before handing it to his boss. Despite having heard everyone's accounts first hand and being instrumental in the writing of this report, the awe it inspired was as fresh and vibrant as ever and he found himself wishing he'd been there to see it for himself...

To be continued...