Of Werewolves and Wanderers

6.

All Fall Down

Draco had no idea what to do, so, figuring that his punishment was over, due to the sun climbing in the sky, decided to head back in the general direction of the castle. He wondered why he had bothered to give his father's letter to Harry in the first place. He should have known that Harry would have pulled some irrational stunt in a mad and fruitless attempt to redeem his godfather. Should have known he would have ended up alone in the woods, faced with the prospect of telling both the teachers and Harry's friends where Harry had gone. As if anyone would believe him.

"Damn Harry Potter," Draco muttered out loud. "Can't you think of anyone but yourself? What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, I suppose that being the savior of the known world can make one a bit self-centered at times," said a new voice knowledgeably. Draco looked up in surprise. A small green creature, that looked quite like a hairless monkey was starring down at him.

"What are you?" Draco asked, his face screwing up in disgust.

"Oh that's nice. No 'How do you do, Mr. Clabbert' no, 'What a lovely surprise to see you this morning,' " the green creature said in a hurt tone. At his words, the large pustule on his forehead changed colors from green to a dark blue. "Of course," the thing continued, "you being a Malfoy and all, what did I expect? I suppose your mother never taught you any manners."

That struck a nerve.

"Don't you dare insult my mother," Draco retorted childishly. The creature laughed and jumped down from the tree to land in front of Draco. It was about waist height and looked up at the boy in front of him. "How do you know my name anyway?" Draco asked.

"No need to ask who you are. My father told me that all the Malfoys have blond hair, gray eyes, and fancier clothing than anyone else could afford," the thing replied with another grin. Draco opened his mouth, then paused at the familiar sounding words. He thought hard for a moment, then the sense of deja vu passed.

"Fine, so you know who I am, but what are you? And if you know anything about my family, you should know better than to taunt me," Draco said haughtily.

The creature cackled and said majestically, "I am a clabbert. You must not pay to much attention during your Care of Magical Creatures classes. I am a psychic animal. And if you were the least bit dangerous, my forehead would be flashing like mad. You may call me Bert."

"I won't need to call you anything. I'm leaving," Draco said, turning away from the animal and starting down the path towards the castle. However, fifty yards away, the clabbert dropped out of the trees and landed in front of him again.

"So, decided what to do about Mr. Potter, then?" Bert asked.

"No bloody clue. Stupid git, goes rushing after his stupid convict godfather. If I tell the truth, no one will believe me. Why does he have to get his damn hero complex now? I hope he does get knocked off by You-Know-Who."

"You'd rescue you mother, though, if she were being framed?" the clabbert asked Draco.

"No, because my mother has no enemies," Draco said and again walked past Bert down the trail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nott surveyed his handiwork. Overall, the letter was bland enough to pass as an invitation from anyone. The parchment in his hand read,

Narcissa,

You have put yourself in a very dangerous position and it is imperative that you join with us as soon as possible. Can you get out of the manor to meet us outside the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow at midnight? Only send return owl if your answer is no, we don't want to risk more correspondence than is necessary. Thank you and good luck. We have paid the bail for Mundungus Fletcher and he will meet you there and take you to Dumbledore.

Cheers,

Arabella Figg

He wasn't sure about the "cheers" at the end, but he hadn't time to worry about it at the moment. He sealed the parchment with unstamped wax and tied the letter to the legs of the post office owl he had borrowed. As the owl flew out of the window, Nott turned to the man tied to the chair on the other side of his study.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Mundungus Fletcher asked coldly.

Nott smirked. "I'm not planning on killing you. Directly. Don't worry, you'll be back with your convict friend soon enough, maybe even in time for a double execution."

"What are you going to do?" Mundungus asked, a slight hint of nerves in his voice.

"Oh, its not what I'm going to do," Nott replied. "It's what you're going to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was completely out of breath by the time he had reached the outlying fields of Hogsmeade and he still had no idea what he could do to find Voldemort. All he had to rely on was the semi-psychic connection he had through his scar to his archenemy. He sat down between two rows of corn and thought for a moment. He was filled with a rage that he hadn't felt since he had been faced with Sirius before he knew that his godfather was innocent, and he had wanted nothing more than to kill him then. He wondered what his godfather would think if he knew that he had been the indirect cause of the most anger in his godson's life.

Suddenly, it hit him. Harry sat bolt upright wondering why he hadn't thought of it before. While nursing his rage it had come to him: his connection to Voldemort was strongest when Voldemort was feeling particularly vindictive. All he had to do was make Voldemort horribly angry, go to sleep and then dream about his nemesis's location.

Harry slumped back down. How on earth was he to accomplish that? One didn't just pen a letter flaming Voldemort and then expect to get a rise out of the embodiment of pure evil. Besides, how would he know where to send the letter? Harry started laughing slightly maniacally as he imagined writing a letter to Voldemort.

"I really think I'm losing it," Harry said out loud as his laughter subsided. Still hiccuping slightly, although no longer sure if it was with laugher or sobs, Harry lay down in the field to try and get a bit more comfortable, and within five minutes, he was fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Narcissa had sent a letter to her son at school telling him everything, assuming that by the time he received it, even if he did tell his father, she would be in Dumbledore's protection. She rather hoped that Draco would keep her secret, at least for the time being. She wasn't sure how Lucius would react, but at the moment she didn't quite care. She had never really minded her husband's evil plots during Voldemort's original rise to power. At times it all felt so surreal, the murders, the secret meetings, the talk of taking over the whole world seemed so comic- ridiculous, even- that she had no qualms with going along with the plans as long as she didn't have to kill anyone. But that was before Draco was born.

Narcissa had never really been evil, but it was only after Voldemort's fall that she began to have some regrets, enough regrets to try and keep Draco out of his father's company when ever possible. She knew that she didn't want any son of hers to grow up so blatantly a "bad guy."

Hoping that her letter to her son would help to show him the error in his father's ways, she tore her mind from the topic. She had no idea when she might see Draco again. Narcissa had no belongings of her own, as everything was owned my Lucius, and the house elves would notice the absence of any house hold belongings, so for lack of anything else to give to Draco, she had sent her old house badge, quickly cut from her oldest school robe. The house badge of Ravenclaw.

Lucius had warned her that he would be gone the entire evening, a perfect time for her to leave. Narcissa had never left the manor before alone. She had always had someone accompanying her and it was a novel experience to be walking though the dim light with a bag of clothing and a few galleons, the shadows of the carnivorous plants throwing weird shadows onto the path. When she finally passed through the stone gates, Narcissa let out a breath she didn't know that she'd been holding, and disappeared into thin air, aparating her way to London.

With her wand out, Narcissa stepped out from the dark alley she had aparated into and headed down the deserted street. She turned the corner and the Leaky Cauldron appeared in front of her in the dim light of the street lamps. There, outside the door stood the unmistakable shape of Mundungus Fletcher. He was a tall man, and had a bulk build. Fletcher had been relatively handsome in his youth, but had seen some pretty rough things in his time as an Auror and had turned to drinking, putting on quite a bit of weight. As Narcissa drew closer, she could see that he still had some of his boyish features that she remembered vaguely from school. He had started at Hogwarts while she was in her seventh year.

Mundungus didn't move to meet her. In fact, he didn't move at all. If she didn't know better, she would have said that he had been frozen solid. But his wand was in his hand, and she saw that as a good sign.

Finally, she was no more than a few feet in front of him, when she saw that his eyes were shifting back and forth quickly. Suddenly they locked on hers, and Narcissa was filled with fear. She stopped moving and looked past him into the dark. The shadows had moved, she was sure of it. Narcissa let out a scream and turned to run back down the street when she saw out of the corner of her eye a flash of brilliant green light.

Mundungus felt, rather than saw, the curse shoot past him, and Narcissa crumpled to the ground, obviously dead. He then felt another spell hit his own body, and the petrifaction curse that he had been under lifted suddenly.

At that moment, no doubt attracted by Narcissa's final scream, wizards began to file out of the Leaky Cauldron. There, they saw Mundungus Fletcher, wand out, standing over Narcissa's body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco followed the path back past the clearing, which still showed the action of the night before, through the trees, and out onto the school grounds, now clearly visible as his punishment was over. As he made his way back to the castle, he thought about what Bert had said. He would like to think that he would do the same for his own mother as Harry was trying to do for his godfather. All the same, he hoped that it would never come to that.

He walked up the front stairs and knocked on the huge doors, which swung open. To his great relief, there was no one inside. In fact, there didn't seem to be anyone anywhere. As he made his way through the deserted halls to his common room, he thought bitterly about what Professor McGonagall told him and Harry about how their safety would be monitored.

"Can't really make sure we're safe if they're not here," Draco thought to himself. "Founders," he said out loud, and strode into the room. The three other Slytherin prefects were all there, along with two owls for Draco. He didn't really want to talk to any of the others, so after a brief greeting, he took the letters from the owls and headed up to his dorm.

Upon seeing the author of the first letter, he was glad he had decided to retreat to the rooms. His mother's letters were usually full of endearments, which, Draco was ashamed to say, he appreciated, but he would rather not have shared with the rest of the house upon their arrival. He sat down on his bed and pulled the green and silver curtains tightly around his bed and opened the first letter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry Potter had not had a normal childhood. Growing up with the Dursleys, repressed and abused wouldn't have set anyone on the right track for a normal adult hood, and the fact that someone had tried to murder Harry at least once every one of the last four years of his life and did nothing to help this. However, Harry had proven that he was able to handle himself in situations that would have caused many others to give up in on more than one occasion, and by the time he awoke in the field outside the forest a few hours later, he was already thinking of a plan.

"Voldemort has spies everywhere, so maybe, I just need to get something to one of his spies. Then the spy has to tell Voldemort, and Voldemort gets angry and..." Harry stopped his train of thought for a moment. Then he went to sleep? How could he be sure he'd be asleep when Voldemort got angry? He'd never had a vision while awake before.

"It worth a try," Harry said out loud. Now all he needed to do was think of something that would make Voldemort angry enough to kill the messenger, as the saying goes. Something involving himself might work. That Harry Potter had vanished, and no one knew where he had gone... that might work. It had to be something that the rest of the world agreed with.

"But then," Harry reasoned. "I will be gone. I can't go back to school, they'd never let me out again."

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a book, then he ripped the black title page out and grabbed a pen.

"Solo Cribanis," Harry spoke to the pen, and it instantly stood upright on the paper. He then thought for a moment, and began to speak.

"Dear Dad," Harry started. The pen began to write on its own in a surprisingly childlike style of handwriting. "Do you know where Harry is? He's supposed to be a prefect but no one has seen him at school since he got off the train, and Hermione and I can't get an owl to him. Does the Ministry know anything? It seems like he's disappeared! Love, Ron."

"That should do it," Harry thought, picking up the pen and rolling up the paper. He then stuck all of his belongings into his backpack and set off to Hogsmeade to rent an owl and disappear.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a wasted day, in Lupin's mind. Things couldn't possibly be worse and if the Aurors had spent time focusing on what the Death Eaters were doing... well, pursuing that train of thought was useless. Mundungus was in more trouble that ever before because they hadn't noticed that he had been released. Arabella sat with her head in her hands next to him on the train seat, not looking at London disappearing behind them. Dumbledore and McGonagall sat quietly on the other side of the train car.

There had been no word or sign of Peter. The house at Little Hangleton was more than deserted. Every sign of life had vanished, and a large and very ordinary looking "For Sale" sign had been placed in the yard. Albania was a big place, but even with Dumbledore himself combing the country, no news could be found. Arabella and Lupin's search was cut off abruptly when a team of Daily Prophet reporters swooped down upon them. When they finally escaped and found a newspaper to see why the reporters were so interested in the aurors actions...

They were going back to the school. Lupin had it in his mind to keep Harry from finding out about Sirius and Narcissa Malfoy until it was to late to do anything about either. McGonagall was trying to think of a way to break the news to Draco. Arabella didn't seem to be thinking at all and one could never tell with Dumbledore.

"Well, what do we do now?" Remus finally asked no one in particular.

"We wait, and think and we plan something that will make this all work out," Dumbledore said sternly.

"As much as we would all like to share your eternal optimism, Albus, those aren't your two best friends sitting there about to be executed!" Lupin shouted. He then looked ashamed and lapsed back into silence. However it wasn't until Arabella's hand reached over and found his that he felt he could really believe any of Dumbledore's words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was surprised, but not entirely displeased with the letter he had received from his mother. True, his father would make his life miserable until Draco told him where Narcissa had gone, however from the sound of his mother's letter, that didn't really seem to matter. At least she had seemed happy about leaving. Draco almost wished that he could be with her, but that was impossible. At least he could promise the he wouldn't give her away.

He folded up the letter and put it, as well as his mothers Ravenclaw badge, back in the envelope and turned his attention to the next letter. This one was larger and bore the Malfoy family crest on the back.

"Dad's on top of things today, I didn't expect this so quickly," Draco thought to himself. At that moment, the dorm room door burst open and Gareth Zambini, the older brother of Blaise who was in Draco's year, came in.

"Malfoy, come on out. We've got to go to a meeting."

"Meeting?" Draco asked blankly, shoving the letters under his pillow and crawling out of the bed.

"Yes, meeting. All the prefects in the dining room. Now," Gareth said, exasperated. "Didn't you read the announcement last night?"

"No, I didn't read it. Now shove off and I'll be down in a second," Draco spat back, annoyed that no one had noticed that he was gone.

Draco was halfway down the stairs when he remembered Harry. Who was going to be leading this meeting, anyway? Would they notice Harry's absence and question him? Draco pondered what he might say to get himself out of this one, but as he walked into the dining room, he saw that he needn't have worried. There, at the head of the table of prefects stood Argus Filtch and Severus Snape.

"Sit," Snape commanded, and Draco realized that all of the other prefects were already there and he had been standing still in the doorway for much to long. He scowled at the students staring at him and took a seat next to Gareth at the back of the table.

Snape looked around the room as if doing a head count, but when he finished he made no comment. Then, like a whip, his voice cracked over the students seated before him.

"Rules," he spat. "You are here to uphold them. You are not above them."

Draco mentally rolled his eyes and settled down in his chair. Every so often, he would look up to see Filtch reading off a long list, but all he heard was Harry's voice saying simply, "I have to," over and over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry, having sent the letter off with an owl from the post office in Hogsmeade, was now making his was up the hill past the village to the cave where Sirius had stayed the year before. He wasn't quite sure where it was, as he had only been there once, but after casting about for a while, he came across the small opening to the cave. Lowering himself down, Harry pictured the cave the last time he had been there; littered with the bones of small animals and a dank and dreary place.

Because of these mental pictures, Harry was quite surprised then to see a well-furnished room, complete with couches, a table and a large cabinet. Upon opening it, Harry was grateful to see that it was fully stocked with enough food to last him as long as he might wish to stay. This relieved him immensely, as he had been trying to figure out how he might summon lunch to himself without people noticing a sandwich floating though the town.

Harry busied himself with making lunch, and then seated himself at the table. He was quite calm by this point, because he knew that his plan had to work. It couldn't not work. It would be too unfair. No one's life could be so full of loss, he decided. Fate made that impossible, in the same way that lightning never strikes the same place twice. Therefore Sirius would be ok, as long as Harry found Peter Pettigrew first.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, staring off into space, when a loud train whistle from the station below lifted him from his stupor. It must have been late afternoon. The train made him think back to school. He wondered what everyone would do when they realized that he was gone. Rather hoping that they wouldn't put too much of the blame on Draco, as, for once, it hadn't really been his fault, Harry considered sending another owl, but that would have required going back down into Hogsmeade, and he would rather not have anyone see him.

Harry crawled out off the cave and sat staring down at the little town, which looked like a painting in the rapidly fading light. No one in Hogsmeade noticed a small black haired boy sitting on the hillside above the town. No one, that is, except the old man with a long white beard who was getting off of the train in the station below. After a few minutes of sitting in the chilly air, Harry crawled back down into the cave and settled on the couch to await the dream he knew must come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minerva McGonagall led the way back to the school. It was a solemn procession; with Albus close behind her, and Remus and Arabella a few steps behind him. Albus glanced around him, particularly at the low hills behind the town, but when Remus followed his gaze, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Across the grounds they marched up to the boar flanked doors. The great hall was empty, save a few of the ghosts, but they weren't allowed the peace for long, as no sooner had the door closed behind them, but Severus Snape stormed out of a corridor to meet them.

"Potter is gone," he snapped, getting right to the point. "I thought perhaps he may have skipped the meeting this morning on his own volition," Professor McGonagall's lips grew thinner at this comment, "but I can safely say that the boy is neither in the castle nor on the grounds," Snape finished.

"Is Mr. Malfoy here?" McGonagall asked quickly.

"Yes," Snape answered simply.

"Well, have you asked Malfoy what happened?" Lupin cut in. "He'd know better than anyone where Harry is, as he was the last one who saw him!"

Snape glared at Lupin. "No, I have not asked Draco where Potter is. I thought it better not to involve the students until necessary."

"But Harry was with Malfoy last!" Lupin insisted. "How do you imagine you will get any information if not from him?"

"Potter has always been one for breaking the rules and it seems to me that Draco is just the convenient excuse in this case! How do you know that Mr. Potter, upon returning to the school, as a prefect no less, didn't grow his annual hero complex and rush out to save his convict godfather?" Snape hissed. Lupin was stunned into silence, and Snape thought for a moment that perhaps, that time, he had gone too far. He instantly dismissed the thought. Arabella looked at the both of them and walked past them and up the stairs.

"That was unnecessary, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. Snape scowled, but looked away from the headmaster. "I know Harry is gone," he continued, and all three of the remaining adults looked up at him in shock. "And I don't believe it would do us any good to try and stop him if he has left for the same reason I believe he has left for. However, perhaps, Severus, you could send Draco to my office so I may confirm with him what I already know."

"But Albus, what are you going to tell Draco about his--" Professor McGonagall started, but Dumbledore stopped her.

"Tonight, I think it is best that Draco finds out such news from his own family. He may have already. Nothing I can say will help him with that." There was a peculiar emphasis on the word, "I".

Professor McGonagall nodded, but Lupin noticed that Professor Snape looked slightly confused.

"I bid you good evening then," Albus finished and with that, he followed Arabella's path up the stairs.

"I trust you two can behave yourselves?" Minerva said sternly to Lupin and Snape. Snape's eyes narrowed and Lupin looked away. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and left them as well. Snape also turned to leave, but Remus's voice stopped him.

"I suppose you don't know what they were talking about then, do you. About what to tell Draco?"

Snape turned to stare hard at Lupin, but didn't answer him.

"Sure, you know about Sirius, because that's big news. All over the paper; they finally caught Sirius and its ok that he's about to be executed. He might as well already be dead for all the good anyone can do for him now. But you know who else died last night? Draco's mother."

"What did you say?" Snape asked. His voice was like ice, however at that moment, it felt as if his insides had frozen to the same temperature as his tone.

"Yes, Severus, dead. And do you want to know who killed her? One of your death eaters." Snape started to turn away, but Lupin continued. "But no one knows that. Do you want to know why? Because they framed Mundungus Fletcher. He was the one holding the wand. But no one is going to believe that, are they? And now Draco's mother is dead, just to buy the loyalty of the child. So next time you try and argue that it is an arrogant crime to try and save someone you love, remember what you lose if you don't try at all."

Lupin appeared to have finished. He was about to turn and walk away, suddenly exhausted, but for some reason he looked one more time at Professor Snape's face. Snape looked back, locking eyes with him for the first time that Lupin could ever remember. Then, Snape gave a small nod, his features still as cold as ever, and turned away. Lupin, aware that this was the extent of the apology that he would get that night, started off to Dumbledore's office.

Snape, however stood quite still, his back still to where Lupin was. He then made a sudden motion and grabbed his arm. As if he had made up his mind about something he strode off, his cape billowing out behind him.