Play The Game

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was, Lucius reflected, rather fun being one of the 'bad guys'. Things seemed always to go your way... Until someone like Potter turned up, of course. That always blew things.

The blond man settled back against the wall of his cell. It was so humiliating. He plucked at the dirty, patched fabric of his Azkaban issue robes. It stank, but he was getting used to it. Hopefully, that would end. The thing that wouldn't be better when he escaped would be his hair. They'd cut it all off, until it was about a centimetre long, but it was growing back. Lucius had been incredibly pissed off at that. They were not satisfied with simply imprisoning him, but felt the need to humiliate him too. He ran a hand over his inch-long hair with a sneer curling his lip. No one would recognise him when he got out. He was smelly and dirty, grey-faced with tiredness from sitting awake and plotting all night.

But it had payed off, of course. Lucius Malfoy never failed.

Just then, there was a shout outside and a drawn out screech followed by a rumble that was felt rather than heard ripped through the air. The Dark Mark was being cast.

Lucius stood up and ran to the bars of his cell. The Dementors had gone from his door, drifting eerily away in the direction of the entrance.

"We will not capitulate! We will take the world down in flames!" The slogan was shouted by hundreds of voices outside the prison. Lucius crossed to the other side of his small cell, lifting himself up. A green glow shone through the bars, and he could see the Dark Mark hanging over the sea. Black-robed figures stretched all the way down to the meager beach, holding emerald-flamed torches high over their heads. And there, there at the front, was the Dark Lord.

As the chanting continued, it was lifted by many voices within the prison itself. Lucius' hoarse throat croaked out the familiar words with a tremendous lifting of his soul.

All through Azkaban, wizard guards had their souls 'kissed' away. The Deatheaters stormed through the halls of the horrific prison, breaking the wards and kicking the doors through. Lucius ran to his door and stepped back as it was shattered. Green flames began licking up the sides as he jumped through and was handed a torch.

"Welcome back," Mr. Borgin smiled, patting him on the back before moving on to the next cell.

Lucius dodged through the crowds, looking for someone who had time to tell him what was happening. There was the Dark Lord, standing by a robed figure who was going through the offices for the wands of all the imprisoned Deatheaters. Malfoy pushed his way through to get to them. He bowed to Voldemort respectfully.

"My Lord," he intoned.

"My, My, Lucius," The cold voice of the Dark Lord floated out from behind the mask. "How wonderful it is to see you again."

He reached out a pale bony hand, a wand firmly clasped in it. "You seem to have forgotten your manners - kneel before your master. Contorqueo Amputo." He watched in morbid amusement as Lucius's leg muscles twisted at impossible angles and he fell to the floor. "Need I remind you," he drawled, "Of the failure you were in the Ministry of Magic?"

He lifted the curse and stared down at Lucius imperiously.

"I remember fully myself, but thanks," Lucius drawled. "My Lord," he added.

The Dark Lord frowned and raised his wand again, pointing it at Lucius's chest. "Conglacio Pectus," he chanted, taking the time to smirk as Lucius's breath was cut off, effectively stopping him from talking. "Now, Lucius, while you are quiet I have a proposition for you. It seems we are in need of a place with Dungeons, and a large potential dueling arena." He lifted the curse off Lucius, taking Lucius's wand from the Deatheater next to him and handing it to the man. "Malfoy Manor fits our requirements."

Lucius gripped his wand, sitting back on his heels. "I'll have the furniture moved to the upper levels as soon as I return home," he said after catching his breath. "It shouldn't take too long. When will you need it, My Lord?"

"As soon as is possible, we have entrance into Hogwarts, the Zabini's assure me of that." Voldemort twirled his wand lazily in his hand and strode forward past Lucius, knowing the man would follow him. "By Saturday, Harry Potter will be no more."

Lucius rose to his feet, walking a respectful distance behind his lord. "I have been told of the plans," he said. "I'll make preparations for what you require. Might I take a detachment of our number to aid me in clearing the Manor?"

"If you must," The Dark Lord replied with severe distaste. "I would have thought that you would be able to do this by yourself, clearly, Azkaban has clouded your senses. You may take Wormtail with you."

Wormtail, previously unnoticed, shuffled forward, his silver hand glinting in the torch light.

"We shall be there before morning appears." A Dementor glided over to them, holding a body in its arms which was trembling madly. "Ah, Casimiro Dominguez. Or should I say, Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"With all due respect, My Lord, the Dementors have a draining effect on one's abilities," Lucius said. "If you believe that I should do it by myself, I would certainly prefer that to working with Wormtail."

"Wormtail understands the requirements I will be needing," The Dark Lord replied, grinning mirthlessly at the Auror captured in the Dementors arms.

"Such an old fool," he said almost regretfully. "Sending a boy to look after Azkaban when it is so clearly mine. Don't you agree Kingsley?" he asked. "Concrepo Os."

Several cracks were heard as Kingsley's legs broke, leaving him relying on the Dementor to remain upright. The Dark Lord smirked, "Crucio." He nodded to the Dementor to leave then turned back to Lucius as the Auror writhed and screamed on the floor. "You can apparate from the main entrance; Mr Nott assured me that he would have everything set up."

"Poor, muggle-loving old fool," he muttered, turning back to Kingsley and lifting the curse, leaving the man trembling and half-dead on the floor. "Lets see how he fairs without the Dementors and one of his precious Order. Avada Kedavra." As the green light hit Kingsley, The Dark Lord leaned his head back and let out a cackle, kicking the body out of his way. "Say hello to Albus for me, he'll be joining you soon enough."

Lucius laughed darkly, making his way out to the front of the building. A cold wind scraped over the cliffs of the island and Lucius wrapped his arms around himself, casting a spell for warmth. He was disappointed at how pathetic his power was, but it would build up soon. He just needed some good food. His stomach was positively concave.

The emaciated man made his way down some steps to Nott, who put a hand to his shoulder.

"You're looking well," he said sarcastically.

"Not as well as I feel," Lucius smiled faintly. "Potter will be ours, and no one can stand in our way."

***

Blaise Zabini was scared. Not full-blown scared, but more of a small feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was going to go horribly and terribly wrong. No one else seemed to have noticed this, so he had kept it to himself, becoming slightly more moodier and distant than was considered normal.

Then, there was the fact that the ring he had been given for Christmas off his parents would not come off and he was strangely acutely aware of it at all times - even while sleeping. The thought creeped him out to the point where Blaise had even tried magic to get the silver thumb-ring off, but to no avail. He dared not to talk to Draco about it, fearing that the other boy would laugh at him; after all, it was a simple piece of metal jewellery. But all the same, he didn't seem to be able to dispel the dark cloud he felt following him all the time at the moment.

This was the feeling he received when he found himself passed out on the sofa in the Common Room - having no recollection of ever walking in, his last memory being taking notes in Potions. The fire was burning in the grate, which Blaise found slightly surprising seeing as no one was in the room but himself, and he knew for a fact that he was such a light sleeper he would have heard someone walking into the room to turn it on. Blaise frowned and pushed himself into a standing position, testing his legs warily.

As he turned to leave the Common Room, he noticed a head floating in the fireplace, watching him calmly. He jumped. "What the hell?!" he demanded, falling to his knees in front of the fire and glaring at the man who was staring at him. "Do you know how dangerous talking to me now is? It's a fucking school day. I've sorted out the floo system already; you can get in and out."

Blaise blinked, and when he re-opened his blue eyes they were slightly darker, with a metallic glint. The ring around his finger glistened in the fire light. "I've done everything the Dark Lord has asked me to," he replied, with a slight bow of the head. "Everything is ready."

The man nodded, then his face disappeared. Blaise brushed himself down and left the room, memories of the conversation he had just had disappearing from his mind instantly.

"Good Merlin, Blaise, you look healthy," Draco drawled. "Positively blooming." He swapped his bag to the other shoulder. "Maybe you should go and get some food. There's still food in the Hall."

He had just that minute come from there, having spent the whole lonely time trying to watch Harry without being seen.

Blaise jumped, before whirling around to look at Draco warily. "I've, I don't know. Been sat in the Common Room."

"I think you need to get out into the sun," Draco said critically, lifting Blaise's lip to see if he'd developed fangs.

Blaise snarled and jerked his head backwards. "Sod off," he snapped. "I'm fine."

Draco backed away, a slightly suspicious wary expression on his face. "No offence, Blaise, but you don't look it."

"I'm perfectly fine," Blaise replied, stressing each word. "Now, are you coming to the Great Hall?"

"I already went," Draco said coldly. "I waited for you for over an hour."

Blaise sighed. "I'm sorry, I've been busy," he apologised, unable to meet Draco's eyes for fear the other boy would notice that even Blaise himself didn't know where he had been.

"I can always sit and watch you eat," Draco relented. "Let me just drop my bags off and I'll be right with you."

He jogged back down to the common room, returning shortly afterwards without his school things.

Blaise was stood exactly where Draco had left him, staring at the floor with a thoughtful look on his face. As Draco came back he looked up and began to walk. "How's Potter?" he asked conversationally.

"He's okay," Draco answered, smiling. "A little irritable, but okay."

"Have you asked Alexei yet if he can come to the party?" Blaise asked, the thought only just occurring to him that Harry might not be 'welcomed' there.

"Yeah, I did," Draco said. "He said it'd be funny. You know Alexei."

Blaise smiled slightly and turned the corner into the Great Hall, shrugging his bag further up his shoulder. "Yeah, you'll have to tell him hi from me."

"You're not going?"

Blaise shook his head. "No, I have to stay here," he said slowly. "My parents... have forbidden me from going."

Draco frowned. "They're getting protective. Maybe it's the fact that you're sixteen now, and they think that'll make a difference to your various activities." He gave a short, derisive laugh.

Blaise smirked. "I think they're a bit late."

"Precisely my point," Draco grinned. "As is my father. He attempted 'the birds and the bees' in a rather 'Lucius' way last summer. He avoided the subject admirably, and didn't blush once. It was only when I told him that I knew as much as he did when he was my age that he sighed in relief and walked out."

Blaise laughed as they walked into the Great Hall, and seated themselves at the end of the table nearest the doors. "Well, you know my parents. They don't really give a damn about me at the best of times."

"I bet you could teach them a few things. Can't you just sneak to Alexei's? They'd never know." Draco's tone was imploring, almost pleading. He'd never been to Alexei's parties without Blaise. It was a tradition. They always did something incredibly stupid together. Draco vaguely recalled scaling London Bridge in his underwear and having to be removed by the Muggle police the next morning.

Blaise shook his head, "I'm sorry Drake." Wow, he hadn't just that nickname in a while. "Have fun with Potter," he said quietly, almost regretfully as he scooped some Shepherd's pie onto his plate.

"You're not staying away because of him, are you?" Draco asked shrewdly, loosening his tie and re-tying it again.

Blaise shook his head again. "'Course not; I'd actually like to see how you possibly manage to like him."

Draco laughed. "Well, if you can sneak away..."

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

They sat in relatively comfortable silence for a while as Blaise ate. He was wondering why he had said he couldn't go to Draco, and trying to remember the exact words his parents had said to him, but failing miserably.

Draco, not one to dwell on things that couldn't be solved, was trying to remember how he came to be on top of London Bridge in nothing but his boxers with a piercing in his nipple and 'sex is evil, evil is sin, sin's forgiven, so get stuck in' tattooed on his left buttock. It had involved card games, dares, bets and drinking competitions, almost certainly not in that order. Draco was quite a different person when he was with someone he enjoyed being with or pissed, or especially both. He reflected that it would have been incredibly humiliating were it not for the fact that Blaise was found chained to the railings outside Buckingham palace in a tutu and Alexei himself was sitting on the top of Nelson's Column in Trafalgar Square.

"Do you think I'll end up with even more exciting accessories this time around?" Draco grinned, running a hand over his arse with a rueful grin.

"Hm?" Blaise asked distractedly, turning to face Draco, and finishing his Shepherd's Pie. "Oh?" he asked with a grin. "I don't know. Probably, but Alexei's not one to repeat stunts, I'd say he'll have something else planned."

"At least the nipple ring came out," Draco said, rubbing his chest. "I had to keep it in for ages while I built up the guts to take it out."

"Are you talking about Alexei's do last year?" Pansy asked, turning her chair to face them.

Blaise smirked, "Yeah, we are. Remember it well, Pansy?"

"No," she grinned. "Only random fragments." She smiled at him. "Still have that tattoo, Draco?"

"Yep," Draco grinned. "You?"

"I had mine lasered off," she replied, shrugging. "I didn't like it as much as you like yours."

"That's because yours was positioned near the wrong entry," Draco said nastily. "It should have been across your mouth."

Blaise laughed and picked up a banana, beginning to peel it absently. "True."

Pansy scowled at Draco. "I suppose you two are going again this year?"

Blaise shook his head. "Can't make it this year, you?"

"I'm going," Draco murmured.

"That's always good news. I'll be going, but I think I'll avoid you," Pansy said, as though Draco would actually feel at a loss for not having her delightful company.

"Got a guest?" Draco asked suddenly.

"No," Pansy said, shaking her hair back from her shoulders. "I prefer to pick people up there. If I took a guest, I'd only have to distribute him or her to that crowd of jackals."

"Mm," Draco said absently. "Probably something to do with the fact that jackals are better looking than pugs," he added in a whisper to Blaise.

Blaise smirked, taking a bite of the banana. "I don't remember you taking anyone last year, or the year before that. Come to think of it, you haven't ever brought someone."

"But I didn't need to," Pansy snapped.

"That would be a combination of the drugs and alcohol," Draco explained. "She'd never get anyone otherwise."

Pansy mouthed in outrage.

"How did you manage to scrounge an invite anyway?" Blaise asked curiously.

Pansy glared at him and stood up, flouncing out. Solemnly, Draco shook Blaise's hand.

"A job well done, my friend," he said.

Blaise laughed, finishing off his banana. "Come on, let's go."

Draco nodded, standing up. "Other than chain you to Buckingham Palace gates in a tutu, what did they do to you last summer?" Draco asked curiously.

"Dyed my hair permanently dark blue," Blaise said, pulling a piece of hair away from his head and holding it up to the light for Draco to see. It was a dark, midnight blue that looked black when it was all together. "Someone had shaved one of my legs and not the other too," he added, remembering the morning vividly.

"I thought your hair was more a dark reddish black before the party, but I was hardly in any state to remember." Draco had the grace to look guilty. "I was the one who waxed your leg when you passed out on the floor."

"Seeing as we're confessing stuff, when I woke up and you were the nearest person, that nipple ring was a two-man job," Blaise grinned.

"A two-man job?" Draco asked suspiciously, hand unconsciously going to his chest.

Blaise laughed, "Mitzi seemed to be unable to point her wand right. And I had to help her, so to speak."

"So what did you do?" Draco asked, grinning.

"Ah," Blaise replied with a wicked smile. "That's between me and Mitzi."

Draco's eyes shot open.

"Okay, using my own misdemeanors as I guide, should I look at you in a different light?"

Blaise laughed, jumping up from the table and picking up his bag. "I'd say you'd be wise to do so."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "You can look at me differently too, but I'm sure you already do."

He remembered Harry's words as he stepped aside for some fifth year girls, and smiled at them.

"Leandro's a dirty git sometimes," he continued, as the girls walked off giggling.

"So I've heard," Blaise replied, slipping between two of the girls. "I always thought you'd lost your virginity before Alexei's party in fourth year."

"Not so," Draco smiled. "I was dating Pansy before that party."

Blaise stopped dead in the middle of the corridor and shuddered violently. "Don't put thoughts like that in my head."

"Precisely my point. I'd never have done that before that party. Abby, what a great girl..."

"Have to agree there, mate." Blaise hurried up steps to catch up with Draco. "Very... flexible."

"What about you? I remember you vanishing for a while at the fourth year party."

Blaise laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Not what you'd think. I got extremely pissed and was out in the yard singing."

"Hmm," Draco grinned. "Have you got any homework to do?"

"Arithmancy, but I can't be bothered with that," he shrugged. "And we got Transfiguration, which you missed being out on, in the hall shagging Potter."

"I wasn't shagging Potter," Draco corrected. "I was telling him that I planned to."

Blaise shrugged, "Same difference."

"It was less fun," Draco pointed out.

"True," Blaise admitted as they stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, and he noticed with a strange jolt in his stomach that the fire was lit.

"There a problem?" Draco asked, frowning at Blaise.

Blaise dragged his gaze away from the fire to face Draco. He shook his head. "No, not at all..."

***

The Gryffindor sixth year boys sat in relative silence, Seamus and Dean doing last minute homework, Harry staring at his plate and Ron reading the paper. If this seems a slightly sedate activity, he did steal it from Hermione.

Suddenly, the peace was spoiled as Ron spat honey loops all over the table. "BLOODY HELL!" he exclaimed.

Harry started, looking up suddenly at Ron. "What is it?" he asked.

Ron held the paper out with a shaking hand.

"Every single Deatheater has escaped from Azkaban," he whispered.

Seamus slid along the bench to sit next to Harry and peer over his shoulder, reading the newspaper also.

"Bloody hell," Harry agreed, folding the paper up and placing it on the table with a thoughtful expression.

"He's taken the Dementors with him?" Seamus asked, frowning. "Why?"

"I don't bloody know!" Ron squeaked. "Because they're evil and so is he?"

"Well this sucks," Seamus decided.

Harry murmured his agreement. All the Deatheaters were now free, which meant Lucius was now free, did that mean that Draco would return to being the cold bastard he had been to Harry for the previous five years?

"What are they going to do about it?" Ron wondered, looking at the staff table.

"Snape'll probably whip on a mask and run around hexing us all," Seamus mused.

Harry continued to think and ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "What do you think Voldemort's planning?" he asked.

"How are we meant to know?" Ron said, shuddering at the name.

"Possibly taking them out for a birthday party," Dean suggested, tapping his quill against his lip.

Seamus snickered. "Maybe Snape will try and blend in by dressing up like Neville's boggart."

Dean roared with laughter. "And batter the Aurors with his handbag."

"Shut up you two," Harry commanded. "This is serious." He unrolled the paper again and pointed to the picture. "There's Lucius Malfoy - someone cut his hair off, leaving with Wormtail. Where do you think they're going?"

"Home?" Ron suggested.

"I doubt they live in the same house, Ron," Harry drawled in an impressive imitation of Draco. "And look at this." He moved his hand to point at the part where it talked about Kingsley being killed. "Why didn't he torture him for information?"

"I doubt they need it," Ron said thoughtfully. "What could he tell them that they'd need?"

Harry shrugged, "Dumbledore's plans?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know."

Harry picked the paper up and stuffed it into his bag. "I'm going back to my room, then to see Dumbledore."

"Alright..." Ron said, but Harry was already gone.

"What's the matter with him?" Seamus asked, staring after Harry.

"Dunno," Ron grunted. "Paranoia, probably."

"That or he's not getting enough," Seamus murmured, sniggering.

"Oh I don't know about that," Hermione put in, smirking.

"What are you saying?" Ron snapped, turning on Hermione.

"YOU KNOW SOMETHING!" Dean accused, pointing a finger at her in mockery of Ron.

Seamus just stared at Hermione with wide-eyes. "You can tell us."

"Harry's got a b... partner," Hermione said loftily. "Other than that, it's none of your business."

"He HAS and we didn't KNOW?" Seamus all but shouted.

"Shhh!" Hermione urged, flapping her hand. "I wish I hadn't mentioned it."

Seamus nudged Dean discreetly, two words on his mind. 'Parvati and Lavender'.

'Both of them?' Dean frowned silently, catching Seamus' drift immediately.

Seamus shrugged. 'One'll tell the other anyway.'

'Lucky Harry,' Dean thought, scowling at the doors that had long since closed behind the boy. Little did Dean and Seamus know, they were both talking about completely different things.

Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and walked down the hall to his room musing over the fact the Deatheaters were out of Azkaban, and Kingsley was dead. Did Moody know? Did his appearance in Hogsmeade the other day mean anything? Was Dumbledore mad? What exactly was Voldemort up to? Distractedly, Harry pushed the door open to find Draco Malfoy already in his room.

"Morning," he greeted, dropping his bag to the floor.

"I have to go," Draco said immediately.

"Where?" Harry asked absently, walking further into his room so he could sit on the end of his bed.

"My father's out. I need to see him," Draco said. Indigo shadows hung below his eyes and his cheeks were hollow. His hair was lank around his face.

Harry frowned. "You can't, wouldn't Deatheaters be swarming around him? And what about the Aurors out looking for him? If you got permission off Dumbledore to go, he'd know where your dad is. Do you even know where he is?" he asked.

"He'll be at home," Draco said. "And if you tell anyone that then I'll make sure you never tell anyone anything ever again." His sunken eyes and hollow cheeks made his gesture of zipping his mouth shut almost Frankenstein-like and frightening. "I've got to go to him."

Harry frowned, although he loved Draco, he couldn't seem to bring himself to trust Lucius, after being face-to-face with him in the Department of Mysteries. "I don't know. How would you get there?"

"Is this the Spanish Inquisition?" Draco demanded heatedly. "I'll make my own way there. If I get caught then you're better off without me."

He began pacing across the room. "I'll be back by tomorrow."

Harry fell backwards onto his bed with a sigh. "Be careful."

Draco seemed to ignore that. "When I get back, we'll nick some of Blaise's clothes and dress you up."

"You're leaving it a bit late aren't you?" Harry asked, pillowing his head on his hands and staring at the ceiling.

"What?"

"Well, coming back, getting Blaise's stuff then leaving again. What if your dad wants you to stay with him?"

"I won't, and he won't," Draco assured Harry. He picked up his broom from behind the sofa. "I need to borrow your cloak. I can go without, but it would help. I won't let anything happen to it."

Harry hesitated before reaching over the side of the bed and pulling out the material that was the invisibility cloak. He jumped off the bed and walked over to Draco, holding it out to him. "You better take care with this," he said sternly, reluctant to part with it.

"I don't have to use it," Draco said, looking up at Harry out of lidded eyes. "Not if it bothers you."

"I'd rather you be safe," Harry shrugged. "Take it."

"I'll be back tomorrow lunch time at the very latest," Draco promised, hanging the cloak over his arm to take Harry's hands in his and kiss his lips softly. "I'm sorry."

He swung the cloak around his shoulders and vanished from site. His broomstick floated into mid air then disappeared. The window pushed up and then he was gone.

Harry let out a long sigh and sat on one of the armchairs. Things suddenly seemed less interesting now Draco was gone, even if the Deatheaters had broken out of Azkaban. He noticed the time and jumped out of his seat, grabbing his bag and running out of the door as fast as he could, sprinting to Herbology, for which he was already five minutes late.