Trust Me

Chapter Three: Caves and Lots of Dust

"Excellent," said Voldemort, a thin smile curving on his lips. He traced a finger down the crack, pleased. "A most excellent Death Eater you well be, Draco. Malfoys have always been such loyal followers."

Draco nodded numbly, still shocked that he really had done such a precise form of magic. Halfway exactly. That's simply amazing. Even Hero Potter can't do that. Then he heard someone yelling angrily at him.

"Draco! What the hell are you doing in the garden? I have not permitted you do go there! What are you thinking?" It was Lucius. Evidently he hadn't even seen his Master--his focus was completely on Draco; even his usual coldness and calmness was gone, replaced by a pink flush over his cheeks, arms waving wildly in the air. Lucius began running up the stairs, muttering distractedly for the bridge to appear, and skidded to a halt in front of his son, eyes blazing.

"WHAT IS FUCK'S NAME ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, and slapped Draco.

Today is just my day to get slapped, isn't it?

"Father--Our Lord is here, Father--" Draco began.

"Silly boy," Lucius snapped. "Why would the Dark Lord come for a useless thing like you? Do you need to be put in St. Mungo's?"

Draco was about to tell him to turn around when Voldemort tapped Lucius calmly on the shoulder. Lucius froze.

"My dear Lucius," the Dark Lord said sneeringly. "Really--is my presence so unnoticeable you do not even see me? Perhaps you are implying I need some fashion tips from you son?"

Lucius was on his knees in a matter of two seconds. "My Lord," he murmured. "I am so gravely sorry--I had no idea...my son would be so useful to you, Master. I shall never repeat this action in the future..."

But it seemed that Voldemort had no intention of letting the incident go so easily. "This," he said. "Is what you get for insulting me. I do not let incidents pass like this Lucius, and you know that--Crucio." Lucius fell, sprawling on the ground and whimpering in agony while saying:

"Please My Lord...please...have mercy...please..."

After a few minutes, the Dark Lord was satisfied. He raised his wand and smiled once more, muttering a quick "Finite Incantem".

Oh boy, thought Draco, he must've eaten something really yummy on the way here. He's smiling like a Cheshire Cat. I've never seen Voldie smile like that before. Maybe it was one of those blood-flavored lollipops.

"Lucius," he said. "I must say your son is, indeed, a prize. Though I would say you have not wiped all pureness and Light out of him, it has come in handy, has it not?" He raised the mirror, still cracked, but was glowing gold. "Only a wizard or witch, still pure in some respects, could crack this mirror, or respectively, crack is slightly, not break it. I, of course, could simply blast it apart--but that is the last thing we need, I daresay, in this little strengthening draught of mine?"

Lucius looked up and gazed at the mirror. "My Lord--the Mirror, oh my, My Lord, oh My Lord, it will achieve our miracle."

I have never, ever heard Father repeat himself, thought Draco. Today is some kind of good food and different personality day. He considered Lucius' speech. What 'strengthening draught'? Is it part of that plan Father constantly brags about?

"Yes, indeed, Lucius," the Dark Lord continued. "I only need these two very powerful expanses of magic to give me the power I had, thirteen years ago. Thirteen years, Lucius. I have lain dormant for too long." Voldemort gripped Lucius' left forearm, rolled up the sleeves of his robe, and pressed his thumb against the Dark Mark. "Today is the day my strength will flow again."

He turned to Draco and favored him with another Dark Smile. "Run along, my little pureblood boy. Your day will come." He nodded in the direction of the stairs.

Draco was running down the stairs when he saw the Death Eaters filing up the steps alphabetically. Avery...Crabbe...Goyle... he nodded at him as he rushed past them.

By the time he was inside the Manor again, Draco was out of breath and wheezing. He decided today was not a day for late sleeping, so he walked back to his room, ready to start schoolwork.

"Nina!"

Nina stepped in, looking positively annoyed. "What do you want?" she snapped. "I'm horribly tired! You made such a mess in the corridor and your stupid ghost cleanliness inspector yelled at me to clean it up. I've been tugging at my charm for so long it's hurting my neck." She gestured at a thin red welt around her neck.

"I don't care. I want breakfast," Draco snapped back. "A very good breakfast too. And I'm going to do homework in bed."

"Fine!" she said sniffily. "But breakfast isn't my job. It's Rosa's." She took out her wand and said, "Accio books, parchment, ink, quill!"

They came zooming in, whizzed by her, and landed in Draco's lap. "Go call Rosa yourself," she said, and walked out the door.

Fuck her, thought Draco, darkly. I have no idea why Father keeps that stupid git of a girl. Just 'cause of her goddamn cleaning charm thingy.

"Rosa!" he called.

The door opened, and Lucius entered.

* * *

Harry was awakened by two noises--one, that Stan was yelling "'Ogsmeade, oi' Neville!" and second, Miyara rolling over on her bed, muttering-

"So muddy...stupid damn--" He never got to hear what she was cursing at as Harry stepped over and tapped her on the nose.

"Wake up," he said. "It's daytime!"

She rubbed her eyes groggily. "It had been daytime for a while now, Harry," she pointed out. "Is Snuffles awake?"

As if on cue, Sirius jumped up on her bed, tongue hanging out happily.

"Neville! Hurry!"

Harry folded his cloak and placed it in his pocket (what would the villagers think if a part of my body had been invisible? He wondered) with Miyara and Sirius following him.

"Thanks," he said to Stan, who grinned at him eagerly as the door opened.

As they stepped out, the Knight Bus took off with a BANG!

"So, maybe I should call it back to take me to Surrey?" Harry said thoughtfully. "Now that you're both safe and sound at Hogsmeade, I should head back; my Aunt and Uncle will wonder where I am by now."

"Or you could stay with us," Miyara suggested. "We found somewhere nice to live, for a change." She frowned at Sirius, who had been residing in a cave in Hogsmeade for a year, eating rats. Sirius whined and tucked his tail between his legs bashfully.

"Where?" asked Harry, wincing as Hedwig flew off his shoulder, looking disgruntled for not being rewarded with a nice Owl Treat for her late journey.

"Come see."

Harry followed Miyara and Sirius as they walked around Hogsmeade, which was strangely empty being the summer holidays. They walked behind Three Broomsticks, through some trees, and stood triumphantly at a stone wall.

"This is where you live?" Harry asked, blankly. "Against a stone wall?"

She tutted. "Don't be silly." She ran her finger down the wall--and it melted away, like the vault seven hundred and thirteen Harry had seen on his first trip to Gringotts, back when he was eleven.

"Only those who know what they are doing and meaning well to Sirius and I can melt away the wall," she explained calmly, stepping through into a dank hallway. "And it seals itself up after we walk through. Those who just touch it with no idea what's behind will simply have no effect, and those not meaning well will be locked out."

"But--if people see you stepping out of a wall all day..." Harry protested.

"They won't," Sirius said from behind him. He had obviously transfigured back into a man. "We have a neat little spyglass in the cave, showing up any movement for about forty meters."

They continued walking in silence, with Harry grasping at the walls to make sure he didn't trip. "Harry, it's a very smooth trip," Miyara assured him.

"I wouldn't know."

"Trust me--I've walked through this tunnel many times already."

When they reached the adjourning cave, Harry staggered back, his eyes cowering from the bright light. He glanced around feebly at the cave and was astonished how it looked like a room in a house.

There was a fluffy though ragged red sofa against the left wall, with two neat wooden boards hanging above it with unorganized stacks of books, including Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5. Farther up from the sofa was a neat, white bed, looking very familiarly like the hospital beds at Hogwarts. On the opposite side of the room were two more hospital-like beds and in the center of the room was an empty dining table and four chairs, with a circular bronze light hanging above it, lighting up the room with warm orangey rays.

"Impressive," Harry said, grinning hugely. "Much better than last year Sirius--it's nice to have a daughter, eh? Even if she was unexpected."

Sirius blushed fiercely and glared at Harry. "She said herself he was using a Childless Charm," he said defensively, "I didn't know she was lying!"

"Are you saying you never wanted me?" asked Miyara, looking miffed.

"No," Sirius said, embarrassed. "Oh--it's just--never mind," he finished off hastily, looking as Miyara's frown deepened with each word.

Seating himself on one of the oak chairs, Harry said, "Er--the Dursleys will definitely be missing me now."

"Stay with us," said Miyara firmly. "It's family time. You can just pack up when we get there. I'll come with you." Harry goggled at her. "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his expression.

"You don't want to. The Dursleys, they're awful! They'll treat you like dirt too."

"Well, if they are so awful, I must be there to make sure they let you leave, right?" she replied briskly. "I'll go change."

"Where?" asked Harry, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. Surely Miyara wasn't just going to change right in the room, was she? Of course, he wouldn't look...

She smiled at him, looking amused. "You'll see." she said, and walked into the back wall.

"How?" Harry asked, dutifully surprised. "Is it like the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, thoughtfully. "Though I think there's a one person policy thingy on this particular barrier. Dumbledore built it for us."

"Dumbledore?" inquired Harry. "Has he been coming here lately?"

"Apparating," Sirius confirmed. "Only he can Apparate here. He did build it, besides."

Harry was almost to say something when Miyara stepped gracefully from the barrier in very common, teen Muggle clothes--tight dark jeans, flared at the bottom, when a V-necked lavender tee and a fuzzy denim jacket. Her hair was thrown into a neat ponytail, though it looked--as Harry privately thought--peculiar it curled so heartily at the ends of the straight plait. The only wizard item she did not exclude was her golden earrings, with the ruby still spiraling up and down. He glanced at Sirius, who was gazing at Miyara with the kind of fatherly affection he saved for Harry when he was especially proud of him.

Harry then took a good look at Sirius--he was much healthier than he had been before, his gaunt face retaining a slight tan and growing rounder. His eyes were still pools of fear and darkness, but it looked like there was a growing circle of light and hope filtering through at the end. His robes were new, black and shiny, his fingers cleaned and fatter, too. His hair wasn't long and tangled, but was cut, washed, and tied back into a ponytail. He looked very much like the man at Harry's parents' wedding--Padfoot who had not spent twelve years in Azkaban.

Silly me, thought Harry. I was so busy observing my new godsister I didn't even look at my godfather. "You both look great!" Harry said enthusiastically. Sirius turned at looked at him, bemused.

"We both look great Harry? Are you implying we look great together or we just, in general, look great?"

"In general," Harry said. He turned to Miyara. "You look like some of those popular Muggle teens Dudley's always goggling at."

She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Well, it'd be nice to have a good connection to your blood family, wouldn't it?" she asked.

Oh boy, thought Harry, now she's off to go flirting with Dudley. Why did I ever say such a stupid thing?

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Harry replied. "Um, who should I introduce you as? I can't say you're my godsister--'cause then they'll think you're some horrible blood-drinking escaped convict's daughter." (Sirius looked slightly hurt at this comment, adding he may be an escapee, but he didn't drink blood. "I'm not a vampire, Harry," he objected.).

She considered this. "Your...ah...hmm...I'm a friend of the family." She finally said. "Your mother had some friends--and I'm her friends' daughter!"

Harry shrugged, taking off his robes to reveal the plain white T-shirt and blue jeans he was wearing underneath. "Fine with me."

Miyara went and hugged Sirius. "Oh," she said, when turning to leave. "Before I go..." She snapped her fingers and a fluffy-looking slice of chocolate mocha cake zoomed towards her father, who bowed jokingly as he transfigured a rock into a silver fork.

"Hey," said Harry worriedly. "How'd you get your wand? And can't the Ministry trace the magic?"

Black sighed. "Harry, sometimes, you are really too alike James."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"James always held me back from doing things," he smiled evilly. "Like socking Snape, for one," he said. "Oh...it was just getting good. I had made a crack about his greasy hair, and I just transfigured some scissors that snipped him bald...and I was about to punch his stupid, hooked nose inward when James grabbed me back and sat on my stomach." He winced. "And it hurt Harry, mind you. I had just eaten lunch. Don't ever do that."

Harry laughed. "I'll remember that tactic whenever I need to restrain you," he reassured his godfather.

"Shouldn't have told you that," muttered Sirius, darkly. "Like father like son. One day...I'll have Harry on my stomach...poor stomach, it can't stand much longer after James' bones cracked all my ribs and made me throw up..."

"Well," Harry persisted. "What about the wand and the Ministry?"

"Later," Sirius replied. "And preferably after we've gotten that filthy stinking Peter trapped in a jar," he spat. "Then we won't worry about that damn Fudge trying to kill me, or, (he shuddered) trying to get Voldemort's minions to Kiss me."

Shaking her head, Miyara tapped her fair finger against a little nook in the wall, which opened a fraction of an inch. She pressed her eye against it and nodded. "Coast's clear," she declared, promptly. "Let's go."

* * *