Evanesco

Evanesco

Chapter 9

In Which Identity Is Lost

"Harry, stop!"

Harry slowed. Neville had dropped to one knee in a small clearing just behind him. "I know you want to make distance," he panted. "But they're knocked out; I reckon we've got a head start."

"And I want to keep it," Harry told him sharply. Neville glared up at him. Harry's eyes widened. There was a cut under Neville's left eye that had bled down his cheek and spotted his t-shirt red. "Ouch, Neville... sorry." Calming down, he noticed that his own T-shirt was ripped from their run through the forest. "Ok," he breathed. "Let's rest."

"I like that plan." Neville pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his cheek. It didn't really make him look any better. "Ow."

"Something whip you?"

"A branch, I think. We were going kinda fast. Which I get," he said quickly, as if he thought Harry would yell at him for complaining. "I'm just... not really built for it."

"Mm," Harry groaned, sitting down next to him and running one hand through his hair. "I'm not exactly at full strength either. When was the last time we ate?"

"No idea."

"I can't believe Malfoy did that."

"Me neither," said Neville. "Though I guess... after his father cursed him like that..."

"Death Eaters do that all the time," Harry said, darkly. "It's probably a rite of passage thing, to have it done to you."

"Why then?"

"I don't know. I still think maybe it was a trick."

"And yet, here we are."

"Yeah."

They took a few minutes to catch their breath. Harry looked at his wrists. They'd hurt when the ropes had been removed but he hadn't thought about it since. They were red raw, and bleeding in places. He glanced over to see that Neville's were the same. "This'll get infected," he admitted. "Your face, too."

Neville grimaced. "Great," he muttered. "One more thing to worry about."

Harry contemplated ripping a strip off his T-shirt to bandage himself with, but he knew he couldn't afford to lose any more clothes. The nights had been cold enough while walking, and the chill of the mornings and late evenings staved off only by the Death Eaters' fire.

He looked around, counting himself lucky that he still had his glasses. "I guess we'd better keep going," he said. "Until we find help, anyway."

"Help from whom, exactly?" Neville sighed, obviously not relishing the thought of more walking.

"I don't know. Even a Muggle who speaks enough English to tell us where we are would be useful." Harry stood up and stretched. His arms felt uncomfortable after being tied together for so long. "Let's go."

Neville groaned as he stood, but stretched his arms in imitation of Harry. "Right. Which direction?"

Harry pointed hopefully.

O0o0O

Draco didn't open his eyes when he woke. This was a habit; he'd developed it at Hogwarts where it was beneficial for people to believe you were asleep while they talked about you. Now, it gave him time to realise what the hell was going on as he took in the fact that he had been lying on leaves and sticks instead of his bed or the canvas floor of the tent, his hands and feet were bound and there was a painful thudding at the back of his head where something had hit him.

Crap.

"... by now," someone was saying. Draco didn't recognise the voice. "They'll never catch them."

"Probably," muttered someone else. That was Farwell. "Malfoy junior's in a lot of trouble."

Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious, thought Draco, heart pounding. Oh, I'm so screwed.

A crashing noise came closer and closer from somewhere in front of him. "Nothing," growled the very angry voice of Barnabus Travis. "That bastard kid - where is he?"

"Orders is to let him be 'till Malfoy gets back," Farwell drawled.

"Screw Malfoy's orders!" Travis yelled. Next moment, Draco was pulled upright by his robe front. He let his eyes snap open, and found himself staring into Travis' large, angry face. "Do you have any idea what you've done, brat?" the man shouted. "Well?"

Draco decided he really couldn't get into any more trouble than he already was. He spat in Travis' face. The Death Eater threw his down and wiped his cheek. "You'll pay for that," he growled. "For a long, long time."

Draco remembered the rumours about Travis' proficiency in torture methods, and couldn't suppress a shudder.

"Enough, Travis," said a soft voice from the other side of the clearing. Draco looked over. The tents were in a dishevelled mess, as if people had knocked them over as they passed and hadn't bothered to pick them up again. It was pure daylight now; Draco couldn't judge how long he'd been unconscious. Sitting amongst the wreckage was Wormtail, idly crushing small stones into dust. It was he who had spoken.

"And why aren't you out searching, Wormtail?" Travis asked, scathingly, but took a small step away from Draco all the same.

"I don't see how that's my responsibility," said Wormtail. "I caught him - you were the ones snoring your heads off, unawares."

"He used the fainting gas on us!" bellowed Travis. "Why weren't you affected?"

"Because I was smart enough to set up my tent upwind."

"Or lucky enough," Travis growled, but not loud enough for Wormtail to hear. Draco didn't think that was the reason, though. He'd spread the fainting gas (a crude name, but all anyone had been able to think up upon its completion) in every direction, with his wand, saving the spot where Potter and Longbottom had been sitting. Wormtail wasn't telling the absolute truth.

He scolded himself inwardly. Not the thing to be worrying about right now!

Death Eaters started coming out of the forest, one by one or in twos, all glaring at Draco, who did his best not to look as though his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He tried to sit up, but it was hard with his hands tied together. For the second time, he felt a flush of sympathy for Potter and Longbottom, but he shook his head, and it passed. After all, he thought. Who's the one tied up now? Who are the free ones?

Bloody hell. No matter what he did, Potter always managed to come out on top. The bastard.

There was silence when Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the clearing. Lucius seemed subdued. Bellatrix, her hands balled into fists and her hair tangled, with dirt on her robes and blood on her bottom lip where she'd bitten it (Draco hoped), looked as though she'd lost any strands of sanity she'd had left.

"Everyone has returned?" he enquired of Wormtail, who nodded.

"You found nothing?" Wormtail asked, unnecessarily.

"No!" Bellatrix howled. "And it's all because of him, Lucius!" she pointed accusingly at Draco. All of the alluring sing-song quality in her voice had vanished.

Lucius sighed, and turned to his son. Draco's breath tightened as he met his father's eyes.

O0o0O

Albus Dumbledore removed his half-moon spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose, distractedly.

He knew in his heart now that Harry hadn't run away. None of his belongings except his wand had been taken, and while there hadn't been any sign of a struggle at the house, the blood found in the demolished school classroom had been tested - and found to be Harry's.

But still...

The dreadful memory of Tom Riddle speaking to him through Harry's mouth in the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic weighed dreadfully on Albus' mind.

His heart was also telling him that Harry and Neville would not be returning for the beginning of the school year.

The Hogwarts Express would leave platform nine and three quarters in three days.

O0o0O

"I hoped it would not come to this," Lucius Malfoy murmured, loud enough for the whole group to hear. "But the Dark Lord saw the uncertainness in you."

Cheek! "Then I'm really surprised he didn't see the madness in you!" Draco shouted, without thinking, forgetting they were being watched by twenty or so spectators, forgetting manners, forgetting his predicament, forgetting even, for a moment, his fear.

Lucius frowned. He drew his wand, and for some reason it struck Draco that it wasn't his own - that had been snapped when he went to Azkaban. "I must admit I've been wanting to try this out," he said, and he didn't mean the wand.

Oh, that doesn't sound good.

"Father," Draco said quickly. "I'm sorry, I - I just wanted you to stop... I wanted to go home, I -"

"It's a little late for that, Draco."

"I know, I'm sorry..."

"You have put all our lives in danger by not only allowing Potter to escape, but facilitating it. You are a traitor!"

The word rang in Draco's ears. The worst thing that could have been said, had been said.

Bellatrix stepped forward; she knelt so her eyes were on a level with Draco's. Her eyes burned with madness. "You stole my baby!" she suddenly screeched, and one hand whipped around and caught him on the face. Her sharp fingernails, like claws, left a deep scratch on his left cheek.

"Enough," Lucius said, softly. Bellatrix went back to him, hung on his arm.

Draco looked back up at them. Unbidden tears stung his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" he asked his father. "How could you do this to Mother?"

Lucius raised his wand. Draco tried to struggle backwards, but came up against a tree and couldn't move any further. Desperately he lifted his bound hands to cover his face.

"Tui nomen infligo."

If Draco had ever had an electric shock, that would be how he would have described the feeling that followed. It was a sharp, fizzing pain in his head and stomach, following by a dull throbbing in his temples. But nothing compared to the Cruciatus Curse.

He looked up at his father in surprise. He was smiling. Wormtail stood up. "What was that, Lucius?"

"Yes, what was it?" Travis asked. "I've never heard that spell before."

"And I'd be surprised if you did," Lucius drawled. "How does that feel, Draco?"

Draco was about to reply that it hadn't really hurt at all, and 'what are you playing at?' when his world suddenly exploded with pain, and he screamed. His head felt like it was being squeezed in an iron vice, his stomach burned as though he'd swallowed acid. It seemed to last for hours, but it was really just a minute before he collapsed, panting, in a heap. He hadn't even realised he'd been convulsing. He tasted blood.

The Death Eaters applauded. "What triggers it?" someone asked.

"His name," said Lucius, and they fell silent, staring at him in shock. "And that will happen every time you hear it," he told Draco, who looked up at him, horrified, his head still throbbing, his stomach cramped. "If it's not clear to you by now, you have been disowned." He pulled Draco's own wand from his pocket - and snapped it.

Draco could almost hear his world collapse. His nose was bleeding, soaking his lips and chin with coppery redness.

"Now go," said Lucius, pointing his wand at his son once again, but this time only to release the ropes. The spectators moved forward as one to protest.

"What are you doing, Lucius?" Wormtail shouted.

"You can't let him go!" Farwell protested.

"The Dark Lord will have your head - all our heads!" Travis bellowed.

Draco scrambled upright, and ran.

O0o0O

"I think I've seen that rock before."

"You're kidding."

"Nope." Harry sank into an undignified heap on the ground. "Damn it!"

"How long do you think we've been going round in circles?"

Harry shook his head in pure frustration, then got up and kicked a pile of leaves. It didn't help. "Sorry," he said. "But we've got to keep going - we could be closer to them than we were an hour ago."

"Rest?" Neville panted, leaning heavily against a tree.

"Yeah," said Harry. He felt weak and sick from lack of food and sleep. It wasn't the best condition in which to start an inter-country marathon.

There was a small noise from the trees, barely noticeable. "Shh," Harry muttered. "D'you hear that?"

Neville closed his eyes. "No."

Crash!

"Run!" Harry yelled, grabbing Neville's sleeve and hurtling onwards, picking a random direction that seemed to go away from the sound. Together they crashed through the trees, blindly, shielding their faces with their arms and tripping occasionally over the uneven ground.

Harry slammed into something and fell backwards. Neville ran on for several yards before noticing, and, cursing, turning back.

Draco Malfoy was lying on top of Harry, groaning. Neville, who was bigger than Malfoy, pushed him off, roughly. "Harry!"

Harry could see stars, and not the pretty white ones. Blue and green lights flashed across his vision as Neville helped him to sit up. "Come on!"

Harry struggled to his feet. "Ow," he groaned, rubbing at his forehead where a large bump was rising. He stared over at Malfoy, who was painfully raising himself onto his elbows. "What the hell?"

"How clumsy are you, Potter?" Malfoy spat, standing up to face them. He was a mess. Blood had streamed from his nose and a cut on his cheek, making him look like he'd gone apple-bobbing in thick raspberry punch. His hair looked as though it had been backcombed for hours, his robes were ripped and covered in mud, and he looked as though he'd been crying.

Harry swore. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Snap," said Neville, motioning to his own cut.

"Mind your own business," growled Malfoy, sounding ridiculous under the circumstances.

"Fine," snapped Harry. "Stay here and die, Mal -"

"Don't!"

"-foy."

Malfoy screamed. Harry and Neville stared in horror as he doubled up, clutching at his stomach. He fell, first to his knees, and then curled up in a ball on the ground, twitching and groaning.

When it subsided, Harry couldn't move. Neville knelt by Malfoy and tried to pry his arms from around his head, but Malfoy pushed him weakly away. A small sob escaped his lips, before he coughed and spat into his hand. He wiped his upper lip with his sleeve, and his robes came away covered in fresh blood. "Damnit," he muttered.

"What... what was that?" Harry gasped.

Malfoy glared at him, clenching his trembling hands. "Do I look like I know, Potter?" he said, his voice shrill and frightened. "Just don't say it, that's all."

"Say what? What did I do?"

Malfoy punched the ground and gave an angry groan before his shoulders sank and he buried his face in his hands. "My name," he mumbled. "It hurts... when you say my name."

"Me?"

"No! Anyone!" Fresh tears were making their way through the blood and muck. Malfoy wiped them away, angrily.

Suddenly they could hear shouting from somewhere in front of them. "Neville!" Harry warned, and they started to run.

"Wait!"

They looked back at Malfoy, who struggled to his feet.

"What? You don't think we're taking you with us?" Harry scoffed.

Malfoy only stared back at him. Harry shook his head and turned to leave again, but Neville caught his arm. "Harry. He did let us go."

"So? He's a Death Eater!"

"He doesn't have the dark mark, I saw."

"SO? That doesn't mean anything!"

"They'll kill me if they find me," said Malfoy, softly.

Harry's conscience was split in two. Why does this always happen to me? he wondered, aware that the shouts and rustling of bushes was getting louder by the second. Desperately he looked at Neville, who looked blankly back at him. "Fine," he growled eventually, and made off into the forest at full speed.

Neville waited for a second. "We'll leave you if you can't keep up," he warned Malfoy, before speeding after Harry.

Draco ran after them.

O0o0O

It helped that they were all quite small and relatively fast compared to the Death Eaters, who were used to wizard transport and were too sophisticated to be seen on a broomstick or doing any form of exercise.

It didn't help that they were all exhausted, as Harry and Neville had been running for almost a day and Draco was still in a lot of pain, not to mention the fact that they'd been pretty tired and hungry before they'd started, anyway.

However, for once, their luck seemed to be holding up. Eventually the sound of their pursuers died away, and they could rest once more.

"Think they've given up?" Harry panted, flopping down onto the floor near the other two.

"In the long term? Not bloody likely," said Draco, irritably. "But for tonight? I think we're safe."

Harry sat up and looked him straight in the eyes. "Look here -" he stopped himself just in time from saying 'Malfoy' - "Let's get one thing straight. There is no 'we'. There's me and Neville, and then there's you. You're the enemy."

"Well then you're screwed," said Malfoy, a hint of the old sneer appearing on his face. "Because now you've got two enemies. Me and them." He jerked a thumb into the woods behind him.

Harry clenched his fists. "You're one of them!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You don't get it, do you Potter? That... thing... that happens when anyone says my name? My father did that to me. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Harry thought. "That your father's a dangerous insanity case? Oh wait - I had that down."

Malfoy glared and lifted one hand as if he was about to get up and hit Harry, but was stayed by Neville.

"Watch it."

Malfoy stared. "What are you going to do, Longbottom?"

Neville shrugged, looking up from a dead leaf he was carefully stroking. "Don't see a wand on you. Think you could take me?"

Even Harry stared at this. Malfoy looked back at Harry. "What did you do to him?"

"Never you mind," snapped Harry, though he exchanged a look with Neville, who looked modestly pleased. "You were going to enlighten me on this... curse thing?"

Malfoy sighed. He avoided meeting Harry's eyes. "I've never heard of it before," he said. "I swear. But... no one can say my name. I can't hear my name without it hurting."

"I got that part," said Harry. The look Malfoy gave him suggested he'd prefer to speak without interruption.

"I don't have a name," Malfoy continued. "No identity, no family, nothing."

"So... you've been, like... renounced?"

"If that's how you want to put it. The word my father used was 'disowned'. And it's all because of you."

Harry didn't have the strength to work this out right now. "How'd you make that?"

Malfoy only glared at him, before hugging his knees and lowering his head.

Harry moved over to Neville. "Why did we bring him again?"

"You heard him," said Neville. "They'd kill him if they caught him. You want anyone's life on your conscience, even if it's Malfoy?"

Harry sighed. "I guess not. But he can't stick with us! We're on the run from Death Eaters - one of whom happens to be his father!"

"Who cursed him so he can't ever hear his own name without feeling pain? Imagine what that would do to you." Harry imagined this, and shuddered. "Look, I hate him as much as the next person - possibly more - but I think he has as much reason for trying to get away from them as we do," Neville continued. They looked over at Malfoy, who must know they were talking about him.

"Ok," Harry muttered. "But if he crosses us..."

"Oh, you can kill him dead," Neville agreed quickly.

They stood. "We keep going," Harry announced, and Malfoy looked up, surprised.

"Finished deliberating?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "You should probably know that we will hand you over if you try and betray us."

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he stood, wincing. "Talk about melodramatic, Potter."

Harry ignored this. "But you'll need a name."

"What?" Malfoy snapped.

"Well, we have to call you something."

Malfoy seemed to think about this. "Very well," he said, a slight triumphant sneer appearing on his face. Harry was almost glad, because at least that was normal. "You may call me by my mother's maiden name."

When Harry realised what he was suggesting he had to clench his fists again to stop himself from punching him. Wow, he thought. Since when did I have self-control?

"Fine," he said. "But you need a first name."

"What for?" Malfoy asked, exasperated.

Harry took a step forward. "If you think I'm going to call you 'Black'," he growled. "You've got another thing coming. Pick - a - first - name."

"Tobias," said Malfoy after a moment. "After my grandfather."

"For someone who doesn't have a family, you've got an awful lot of relatives to choose names from," said Neville.

"So how does this work?" said Malfoy, ignoring him. "We've going to have to sleep at some point."

"Next stop, Toby," said Harry, in mock-cheerfulness.

He and Neville started walking, suppressing sniggers as Malfoy called from behind them. "And don't call me Toby!"