A Surfeit of Wands

Chapter Nine: Proteus

'Easy there. Easy, lad.'

The hand - or what was left of it - rested gently on Harry's shoulders as he vomited. Eventually there was nothing left to come up and he shook his head.

'I'm fine,' he coughed, spitting the contents of his mouth onto the ground. The hand was removed at once, and a water bottle thrust into his face.

'Drink.'

Harry rinsed his mouth and spat again, then drank a few mouthfuls from the bottle. He crouched, trembling, for a minute or so, until he felt steady enough to lean back against the cavern wall and look at his captor.

'So,' Benjy Fenwick said softly, 'You know me, then.'

Harry nodded. 'Only from a photograph. Moody and Hagrid showed it to me. Everyone thought you were dead.'

'Hagrid? How's that great fool doing?' A smile split the grotesque face.

'He's fine,' said Harry wonderingly. 'He's, er, he's a teacher now. Care of Magical Creatures.' This is going to kill him. He's been hoping - He shoved the thought aside and said again. 'Everyone thought you were dead.' Moody's words came back to him, clear as a bell. 'Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too... we only ever found bits of him.'

'Dead. Aye. That just about describes it. I was dead. For sixteen years.' He cocked his head again and looked at Harry. 'Do you need another drink?'

'I'm all right. You could just untie my arms, then I could get it for myself if I needed it.'

Fenwick shook his head. 'Don't want to lose you.'

'Why not?' Harry frowned. 'You disappeared before I was born. What has this got to do with me?' I might as well find out, he thought, although he wasn't really sure he wanted to know. Probably some stupid scheme of Voldemort's. It usually is.

'Haven't I told you?' A sharp, unpleasant grin. 'You're the bait.'

'Bait?' Better than being the target, I suppose. 'What for?'

The grin was sharper now. 'Albus Dumbledore.'

--

Harry blinked. Flexing his legs, he said cautiously, 'I thought you might be planning to hand me over to Voldemort.'

'To Voldemort?' Fenwick looked genuinely shocked. 'Hand James' and Lily's child over to the Dark Lord? Relax, lad. You'll come to no harm from me.'

I suppose that's something, Harry thought. Aloud, he said, 'Why Dumbledore?'

Fenwick gave a harsh laugh. 'Why Dumbledore? Aye, there's a question. How long have you got?'

Harry shrugged. 'Doesn't look as if I'm going anywhere.'

'True.' Fenwick chewed on a fingernail for a moment, eyes on the ground, and then looked up at Harry again. 'That photograph you saw - Molly took it. There was only ever one photograph of the Order taken. Must have been - oh, nineteen years ago now. Time flies.' Again that harsh smile, which Harry did not understand. He shifted uncomfortably as Fenwick fell silent, lost in thought. 'She wanted a picture of her brothers,' Fenwick said finally.

This was a surprise. 'Her brothers?'

'Fabian and Gideon. Molly was a Prewett before she married Arthur Weasley. Didn't you know?' Harry shook his head. 'Well, no reason why you should. They're dead now, anyway. Thrown away, like old shoes... We were all thrown away.'

'Moody said,' Harry volunteered the information nervously, 'he said they fought like heroes, that it took five Death Eaters to kill them.'

'Right. And they killed three of those five and wounded Lucius Malfoy. Did Moody tell you that? Any fair fight, the Prewetts would have won. They should never have been there.' His left hand clenched and unclenched as he spoke; as if hypnotised, Harry watched the thumb, the three stumps and the remaining finger move to and fro. Then Fenwick continued, his voice stronger.

'They came for Edgar Bones one night when he was at home. Nobody had warned him; all his family were with him. They were slaughtered. When I got there, the place smelt like an abattoir. Walls covered in blood. He was holding his three-year-old daughter in his arms. Nobody warned him. But we knew. We knew.' The words came out in a hiss, the sound of water on hot coals, as he stared unseeingly into the past. 'Marlene McKinnon. Straight out of Hogwarts. Dead within a month. Regulus Black.'

Harry looked up. 'You mean Sirius Black.' But even that's not right, because -

'No, lad. Regulus. Got sick of what Voldemort was doing and started passing information to us. A brave kid. Only three of us knew about him - me, Mad-Eye and Dumbledore.' He spat the last word out. 'Fat lot of good it did him. He was a kid, a frightened kid.' Anger gave life to the ruined features. He took a sip from the water bottle and swirled it around in his mouth before spitting it out viciously. 'And then there was Dorcas Meadowes. Caradoc Dearborn. Me.' At the second name, Harry tensed. So this is it. I'm finally going to find out about Caradoc Dearborn.

'What happened?'

'They caught us. Oh, not all at once. Dorcas and me - we were scouting round an old barn, down Somerset way. We'd heard rumours that there were Death Eaters in the area using it as a meeting place. They were right.' His eyes focused on Harry and he chewed his lip, remembering. 'It was a set-up. We were ambushed, outnumbered; it was useless right from the start. But you still fight... you still believe there's a way out. You never believe it's happening to you.

'I told Dorcas to tell them everything; she didn't know much and I thought they might go easy on her if she talked. It wasn't so simple for me. There was a lot I could tell them. I was hoping they didn't realise how much. But they knew that, as well.' His face hardened. 'Someone told them. Someone was telling them an awful lot.'

We had our spies, just as Voldemort had his. Dumbledore had said it, long ago. Spies...more than one. Not just Wormtail.

Fenwick shrugged. Light from the candle captured the movement and magnified it, throwing lopsided shadows into the wall behind him until he looked like a creature from a nightmare, a ghastly, hunchbacked thing. Harry stared at the flickering horror and then looked back to discover Fenwick watching him, an odd smile on his face.

'They broke my back,' Fenwick whispered. 'But that was later. Caradoc came looking for us. He was engaged to Bridget, you see.' Harry nodded. 'Voldemort killed her himself, in front of Caradoc. Avada Kedavra. Two words. Like snuffing out this candle. That's all it was to him.

'They killed Caradoc, too, eventually. Voldemort made me watch. He wouldn't talk at first... they took their time over it.'

He is dead, then. Poor Hagrid. Harry closed his eyes, realising only now how much he had been hoping that somehow Caradoc could still be alive. When did you start expecting happy endings? he chided himself. Things don't work that way. He opened his eyes and regarded Fenwick again. 'Why didn't they kill you?'

Fenwick shrugged for a second time. Harry kept his eyes on the man in front of him, refusing to be distracted by the leaping shadows on the wall.

'I wanted them to,' Fenwick said at last. He stared straight ahead of him, at the candle flame flickering uncertainly between them. 'They sucked me dry. When I'd told them everything I knew, they offered to send me back to Dumbledore. The Order had captured one of their own.' He laughed, a harsh, high sound. 'One for one. A fair exchange.'

He raised his head. Even without the sudden flash of rage and pain in his eyes, Harry knew what he was going to say.

'Albus said no.'

--

'No.' Harry repeated the word, stunned.

'No?' Fenwick asked dryly. 'He said no to the exchange or no, you can't believe he said it? Believe it, laddie.'

Harry swallowed. He couldn't believe it. Dumbledore couldn't - He sat very still. Dumbledore could. It wasn't impossible.

'How do you know?'

'How do you think I know?' Fenwick said bitterly. 'They told me. A good joke, that was. Not that I remember laughing.' Both hands were clenched into fists at his side. 'Oh, yes, lad. That's Albus Dumbledore for you. Always playing the bigger game. No time for the little people, even if we get broken and smashed along the way. Haven't you realised that yet?'

Harry said nothing.

Fenwick's voice was softer now. 'Don't blame yourself. We all believed him. There was a time when I would have done anything for Albus Dumbledore. Now - well. Things are different now.'

'Moody thinks you're dead.'

The head cocked. The eyes that stared at him were as bright as a bird's. 'Does he now?'

'He told me. When he showed me the photograph.'

'Ah.' A hiss of satisfaction. 'I didn't kill him, did I?'

Harry shook his head, eyes wide.

'I meant to. I'm not as strong as I was, and I wondered about the poison. Ah, well. Mangy old bastard...constant vigilance!' He bellowed the last words so suddenly that Harry jumped. Fenwick smiled in satisfaction. 'He still says that, then.'

'You killed Bridget Meadowes.' Harry was amazed that his voice sounded so steady.

Fenwick nodded. 'I did. She remembered about the caves... knew her Welsh history, did Bridget. She was going to tell Lupin. I never wanted to. Does that make you feel better?'

Not really. 'How did you escape?'

'I'll never know. Luck. They kept me under Imperius. Got me out and played with me occasionally.' A shadow twisted across Fenwick's face. 'To keep their hand in. I escaped once. Bonfire Night. I remember the fireworks. But they caught me and brought me back, and then... But one day the Imperius just... disappeared... and I could think for myself again.' He lifted his face and stared up at the ceiling. 'I thought it was a trap. Thought they were playing with me again,' he whispered, 'but I had to try. Sixteen years. Sixteen years since they put me in that room and told me I'd never see the sun again. I had to try.' He looked into Harry's horrified eyes. 'That was about six weeks ago.'

Six weeks ago. Harry racked his brains. Someone else had mentioned six weeks ago. Who was it? 'There was a fight on Salisbury Plain six weeks ago,' he volunteered. 'Some Death Eaters were killed.'

Fenwick nodded. 'That'll be it, then. The surest way to end Imperius was always to kill the caster. We found that out a long time ago... And I came out,' he continued, all emotion stripped from his voice, 'and I decided it was time to settle an old score with Albus Dumbledore.'

'Wait a minute,' Harry said suddenly. 'You put that wand there for us to find.'

'And the photograph. I knew Albus wouldn't be able to resist a threat to you.'

'How did you get Caradoc Dearborn's writing onto the photograph?'

Fenwick spread his mutilated hands. 'They used to call me The Forger. Beautiful handwriting I had back then... I could imitate anyone. Most Metamorphagi can do it. All you need is good hand to eye co-ordination. Useful.' He grinned. 'It took a lot longer this time, but it was worth it. Albus loves puzzles. He gets bored, sending witches and wizards to their deaths.' He sneered and, despite himself, Harry looked away. It was not a pleasant sight.

'So what happens now?' he asked. Lupin will have told Dumbledore where I am. They'll know what to do. Somebody will be coming... Somebody had better be coming, he acknowledged privately. With his arms and legs tied, and no wand, he wasn't in the best position to overpower a dangerous madman and flee to safety. And even if I did get out, last time I was here the hills were crawling with Death Eaters.

'We do a trade,' answered Fenwick. 'You for Dumbledore. I left a letter for him at Hogwarts.'

Harry shook his head, then winced, wishing he hadn't. 'You didn't need me for this,' he objected. 'Why didn't you just go up to Professor Dumbledore's office and wait for him there?' Or hide in the corridors and jump out. Or something.

'Attack a Headmaster at Hogwarts?' Fenwick threw back his head and laughed. 'Not even Voldemort himself would try that! No. I had one chance. I think I've used it well.'

'He might not trade.'

'Oh, he will, lad, he will. What you've told me bears out what I already know. Albus needs you alive to fight Voldemort. He can't afford to let me turn you over to the Death Eaters.'

'You said you wouldn't do that!' Harry protested.

Fenwick's answering grin was particularly unpleasant. 'Did I now. I must have forgotten to tell Albus.'

I'll tell him. Something of Harry's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Fenwick scowled at him and snapped, 'Don't you go getting any ideas, now, laddie. You won't be seeing him. Not before it's all over.'

Wonderful. 'How long will that take?'

'Not long.' Fenwick used the wall to pull himself up, and stretched. Harry looked away. 'A day or two, to set things up and smoke him out. Then we'll have you safely back at school. Get some sleep.' He reached down and snuffed out the candle flame.

--

Although he tried to stay awake, Harry found himself drifting. The wound on the back of his head had begun to ache again and he was desperately tired. Somebody's coming, he told himself, you need to stay awake. It was no use. He drifted in and out of consciousness, unsure at times whether he was awake or dreaming.

He woke to the sound of Fenwick whispering in his ear, and a hand shaking him roughly. Harry tensed. Stiffening both legs, he kicked out. There was a muffled grunt. In return, he received a blow to the head which made his ears ring.

'Someone's coming,' Fenwick hissed. 'Don't try any tricks, laddie.' Something cold and sharp touched Harry's throat. 'Feel that?' Harry nodded, eyes wide. 'Don't make me use it on you.' He held himself motionless for an instant, listening. Harry watched him in silence, trying to hide his exultation. Inside his head a voice chanted they're here they're here they're here.

'Some way off yet,' whispered Fenwick. He reached down and slashed the rope binding Harry's legs. 'Up.' He half-jerked, half-assisted Harry to his feet, picked up the satchel, and shoved him towards a pile of fallen stones in a corner. 'Over there.' Harry stumbled obediently in the direction indicated.

They're here they're here they're here -

A voice rang out, clear and confident, in the passage outside.

'You insufferable cretin.'

Harry froze. It was impossible not to recognise that arrogant diction. Glancing at Fenwick, he saw fear creep over the other's face for the first time. You've recognised it, too, Harry thought. Shit. This is all we needed. Lucius Malfoy.

--

The footsteps came closer. Harry turned to Fenwick and jerked a head frantically at the satchel in his hands.

'What?'

'Invisibility Cloak,' Harry mouthed. Fenwick nodded his understanding and gave Harry another shove towards the corner, fumbling with the buckles. Unable to help, Harry watched him, sick with anxiety. What if he can't manage the buckles? If he can't get it open and Malfoy comes - He tried to remember whether Malfoy knew about the Invisbility Cloak. Would Macnair have told him?

Fenwick had got the satchel open at last. Pulling out the Cloak, he hurried over to join Harry, pulling it rapidly over them. The footsteps became louder and more distinct as the Death Eaters approached. Four or five of them, Harry guessed. He had heard several voices, but the only one he recognised was Malfoy's. At least that means Voldemort's not here. Yet.

Malfoy spoke again, his voice heavy with sarcasm. 'Although I am surrounded by cretins, I see no need yet to become one. They were seen on the hill. They are no longer on the hill. Potter cannot Apparate. Therefore, the chance that they are still here is very high. And therefore...' He paused. Harry could imagine the smile, the brilliant flash of white teeth. 'Therefore, we are going to find them.'

Harry squeezed nearer to Fenwick, trying to make himself as small as possible. He ran his eyes around the cavern, appreciating for the first time how big it was. There was little chance of anyone stumbling over them by accident. If they just look in and see it's empty - does he know about the Cloak? Does he know?

There was the occasional chink and rattle as small stones were kicked aside. The footsteps came closer, then stopped. Harry stared at the entrance as if hypnotised. Beside him, Fenwick was moving his lips wordlessly as if he were praying. Harry felt a sudden flash of pity.

There was a sound of fabric rustling and the black robes of a Death Eater appeared. He peered nervously around him before stepping gingerly into the chamber, wand clutched in his hand. Harry grinned. Trust Malfoy to look after his own skin. Another Death Eater, robed and masked, followed the first.

Slowly and cautiously, Harry stretched his arms as far as they would go without disturbing the Invisibility Cloak, and opened his hands, closing them again full of dust and pebbles. He did not take his eyes off the two Death Eaters. He knew that he and Fenwick had only one advantage. The Death Eaters might not have realised that magic did not work effectively in the caves. That might buy them a little time. They would need it. Harry did not attempt to deceive himself. He was bound and unarmed, and Fenwick had a mutilated leg. Neither fight nor flight looked like attractive options.

Another rattle at the entrance and Malfoy walked in. Unlike his companions he had not bothered to conceal his identity with either robe or mask. He had no need of them, Harry realised with a start - he was already a wanted man. Which meant that anyone who encountered Lucius Malfoy tonight would not live to tell the tale.

He felt the press of Fenwick's hand on his sleeve and looked round. Fenwick drooped one eyelid in a ghastly wink. Before Harry's eyes, the face began to blur and melt, and the distorted features shifted and faded, to reassemble themselves into something infinitely more familiar, if not necessarily more pleasant.

Harry stifled a gasp. He was looking at Severus Snape.