Harry Potter and the Watcher's Council

“Hmm, it's sad, granted. But let's look at the upside for a moment. I mean, what kind of a future would she've really had with him? She's got 2 jobs -- Denny's waitress by day, Slayer by night -- and Angel's always in front of the TV with a big blood belly, and he's dreamin' of the glory days when Buffy still thought this whole creature of the night routine was a big turnon.” – Xander, ‘Surprise’

By the time Harry found the hidden entrance to the tunnel in the forest, several minutes had already passed and he was beginning to sweat, wondering how much farther he'd have to go and whether he'd be there within the time limit. Pulling his Invisibility Cloak on, Harry examined the tunnel's entrance carefully. Like the secret entrance under the Whomping Willow, this one was hidden in the roots system of a large tree. After a few more minutes of frantic searching, Harry found a likely-looking knot on the tree and pressed. The earth below the roots opened just wide enough to admit a thin person. Leaning his broom against the trunk of a nearby tree and covering it with brush, Harry took a deep breath and slid down into the tunnel.

Like the tunnel below the Willow, this one was dark and seemed to be carved into the earth. Harry made his way through the darkness of the tunnel quickly, his lit wand held in front of him to light the way. The tunnel itself was cool and damp, smelling of earth and mud and the unmistakable stench of death. From time to time he felt bones crunching beneath his boots, but he did not look down to examine them—he didn't want to know from what or whom the came. The tunnel seemed to go for miles, heading inexorably downward in a gentle slope all the while. The whole thing gave him a feeling of dread, reminding him forcibly of his journey into the Chamber of Secrets, down to the fact that, once again, it was Ginny he was hoping to find at the end.

Up ahead, a dim light flickered against the rough surface of the earthen walls. Harry quickened his pace and whispered “Nox,” dousing the light on his wand. If someone was waiting for him at the end of the tunnel—and surely, someone must be waiting as this was, after all, a very obvious trap he was walking into—he didn’t want to give away his position any sooner than necessary.

The tunnel ended abruptly in a large, vault-like stone door that filled the entirety of the curved entrance. An elaborate dragon stood out in stark relief against the dingy grey of the stone in greens and golds and silvers; for a brief moment Harry thought the dragon was real—albeit very small for a dragon—before he realized that it was only a carving, but one done in exquisite detail. Flickering torchlight lit the edge of the door in a circle of yellow. The door was ajar slightly. Although this seemed like a bad sign to Harry, he shrugged and pulled the door open a few more inches, just enough that he could slip through. Harry knew he was being led, but he didn’t see what choice he had but to follow, not if he wanted any chance at all to save Ginny…

The door led to a dim dungeon corridor in which barred cell after cell was set, lining the space in a chilly replica of a prison. Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak closer around him and started cautiously up the corridor, peering into each cell. He was halfway down the hall before he heard a noise—the distinct sound of someone moaning as if they were in considerably pain.

“Ginny!” Harry cried out. Abandoning all caution, Harry began to run, letting the cloak stream out behind him. He knew he could be seen, but he could hardly force himself to care when it sounded like Ginny was being tortured.

He found her in the very last left-hand cell. Her wrists were trapped in heavy iron manacles that hung from a chain connected to the ceiling high above her head, stretching her arms beyond what seemed possible. The toes of her boots just grazed the filthy floor of the cell and her head hung down, her long hair concealing her face in a matted, dirty curtain. Harry gasped at the sight of her and rushed forward.

“Ginny?” Harry said again, his voice low and hoarse with fear. She raised her head weakly and Harry couldn’t help but gasp again. Her face was parchment white and streaked with dirt and tears, her eyes huge and dark against the paleness of her skin.

“Harry?” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

Harry moved forward the last few steps toward her and grasped her above the waist, lifting her against him to relieve the pressure on her wrists and arms. Her head lolled forward to rest against his shoulder as Harry shifted her weight to free his wand hand.

“Never mind that now,” he murmured, trying to conceal the fear and horror he felt at the sight of her. How—how—could he have let this happen? He and Ron and Hermione had been so caught up in everything else, in the preparations for the upcoming battle, in securing the grounds and setting the boundaries for Willow’s spell, that they’d had no problem ignoring Ginny for the past several weeks. Not that they would’ve wanted to notice what she was up to anyway, he thought bitterly to himself as he pulled his wand from his pocket. No, they’d been too childishly, selfishly angry at her to care that she may just be in real danger.

“Alohamora!” he muttered, pointing his wand at the manacles that held her. Nothing happened.

“They’re surely charmed against that,” Ginny mumbled bitterly into his neck. “You’ll never get me out of here.”

Frowning, Harry stared at the chains, thinking frantically. The hoops of metal were loose about the delicate bones of her wrists, but tight enough to prevent her hands from simply slipping through with enough pulling. If only they were just a bit larger, then maybe he could force her hands through…

“That’s it!” Harry said. “Engorgio!”

Immediately the metal of the manacles glowed a brilliant blue and began to expand; within a few seconds her wrists fell limply from the chains and her full body weight rested against him. Harry lowered her until her feet touching the ground.

“Can you stand?” Harry asked.

She held onto his arms and nodded. “I-I think so,” she said.

Harry took a step toward the door of the cell. Ginny’s legs immediately gave out. Her fingers tightened painfully around his arms as she collapsed against him, groaning in pain and frustration. Harry caught her around the waist, trying to hold her up. She was a dead weight in his arms, and a lot heavier than she looked. “I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t…”

Gritting his teeth, Harry hefted her weight to his right arm and bent carefully, slipping his left arm under her legs to lift her in his arms. Her head lolled against his neck weakly.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Harry whispered. “I’ll try to get you as far as the tunnel—do you think you can make it the rest of the way?” Harry had to forcibly repress the urge to set her down and go off in search of Malfoy. Ginny was his girlfriend, or something like it, anyway, and he’d left her in this god-forsaken place for who knows how long, chained up like some kind of sick offering. Harry shook with fury. Now, at least, Ginny might believe him when he told her what a slimy git Malfoy was.

“Oh Harry,” she murmured. “I knew you would come for me. You’re always there to rescue me.” She sighed heavily.

Harry blinked in confusion and paused mid-stride, half-way to the cell door. Then, as if a blinding light had suddenly gone off in his head, Harry dropped Ginny abruptly and began back away. She landed with a thump, grunting in pain and staring at him, hurt and confused. “Harry?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“You’re not Ginny,” he said, searching his pockets frantically for his wand. “Ginny would never expect someone to rescue her—she’d just go ahead and do it herself.”

The Not-Ginny smiled slyly and got to her feet, brushing off her filthy robes. “Ten points to Gryffindor,” she sneered. “You needn’t bother looking for your wand,” she added, pulling that very object from her sleeve. She twirled it deftly between her fingers, looking very pleased with her own cleverness.

“Who are you?” Harry asked, his voice low and harsh.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Potter?” the imposter asked. “I knew you were dense, but honestly, it should be obvious even to someone with your inferior, well, everything.”

“Malfoy,” Harry said flatly. Of course it was Malfoy—who else could’ve gotten Ginny out of the way long enough to make it appear she’d gone missing? They’d probably already found her by now, Harry thought angrily to himself, locked up in a broom cupboard somewhere in the castle. He cursed himself for being such a fool, but when he’d found the note, he hadn’t been able to think properly. He hadn’t been thinking at all.

“Got it in one,” Malfoy said. It was disturbing to see his smirk on Ginny’s face. Malfoy pointed the wand at Harry with a gleefulness that was almost frightening. “I think it’s my turn to decide on a curse for you,” he said with mock thoughtfulness. “I think Cruciatus would be appropriate, don’t you? Or is it too soon? Perhaps I should start out with a few Stinging hexes, and that Bat Bogey Ginny taught me can be quite entertaining, before getting to the climax. What do you think?”

Malfoy raised the wand and Harry tensed, ready to dodge out of the way, but before Malfoy could get the words out, his body—Ginny’s body—abruptly began to shimmer and change. His hair bleached out from the roots, white blond eating up the red of Ginny’s hair as it spread from his part while it shortened. Harry had to squint against the shimmering light coming off of Malfoy, and when he could see again, Malfoy was back in his own body, wand still trained on Harry.

Harry realized he was gaping at the other boy and closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. Malfoy laughed. “What—you were expecting Polyjuice Potion, perhaps? Please, a Malfoy is never so crass as to walk around in someone else’s body. We leave that up to lowly Gryffindors who’ve got nothing better to do than spy.”

“Then how…?” Harry knew it was best to keep Malfoy talking. In his experience, evil doers generally liked to brag about the brilliance and deviousness of their plan before they actually carried it through. And in this case, not only did he already know Malfoy loved to brag, but it would also give Harry a bit of time to think of a plan.

Malfoy sighed impatiently. “I always assumed it was a rumor, but honestly, Potter, I’m starting to believe that Granger really does do all your thinking for you." Harry stared at him blankly, trying to look clueless while his mind raced frantically, discarding idea after stupid idea. “I used a Glamour Charm, of course,” Malfoy continued, practically preening beneath Harry’s bewildered gaze. “They last longer than Polyjuice, and you don’t have to spend a month brewing the potion. Who knew that Rosenburg’s ridiculous Muggle magic would have some use after all? It’s a pity she’ll have to die.

“Now then,” Malfoy continued, “as I was saying—“

But his voice died out suddenly as Ginny—the real Ginny—stepped around the corner and into the cell, wand held high in front of her. “Hello, lover,” she said, her dark eyes hard with determination.

“Ginny. What the hell are you doing here?” Malfoy asked, his voice frantic. “I don’t have time for this!”

“You don’t have a lot of time left,” she told him coldly.

But as she was talking, Malfoy uttered the Disarming Spell. Ginny’s wand flew from her fingers and clattered to the floor next to Malfoy, who bent carefully to retrieve it, still holding Harry’s wand in his other hand.

“Harry, go!” Ginny said. “I’ll take care of this, just get out of here!”

Harry glanced at her, startled. “I’m not leaving you here!” he protested.

“Yes Potter, do stay,” Malfoy said languidly. “My father will be along any moment to welcome you properly. Petrificus Totalus!” he shouted suddenly.

Harry leapt to the side, feeling the spell rush over his head. He scrambled to his feet, expecting another spell to be thrown at him right away and was surprised to find himself being almost totally ignored. Ginny had sprung forward into immediate action. She performed a tricky forward roll, coming up to a crouch with a small silver object gleaming in her hand. She threw it with deadly accuracy straight at Malfoy.

Only a lightening-quick Impediment Curse saved him from a knife in his throat. Malfoy eyed the throwing star, now laying harmlessly on the ground. Ginny stood and, reaching behind her, pulled a long sword from the sheath tied to her back. She pointed it at Malfoy, whipping the blade through the air as she hefted its weight easily in her right hand. Harry gasped at the sight of it. The jeweled hilt and etched blade were things he could never forget… Gryffindor’s sword, the same sword he'd pulled out of the Sorting Hat that horrible night in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Let’s do this,” Ginny said, glaring. “Do you honestly think you can take me?”

“I don’t have to take you,” Malfoy replied. “I just have to not die for the next five minutes. Lover.”

Ginny growled and leapt into motion. She was fast, so fast that Harry could hardly believe it. He could only stare in shock as she dodged a Stunner and rushed at Malfoy, sword held high. He gasped and twirled quickly to his right, stuffing Harry’s wand into his pocket. In the next moment he had bent low, fumbling with his boot. When he stood he held a silver dagger grasped in his hand. He brought it up just in time to block a swing from Ginny’s sword. Harry watched them exchange furious blows, looking around the cell frantically for something that might help. A rock, anything hard that he could hit Malfoy over the head with…

But from what he could see, that wouldn’t be necessary. Ginny forced Malfoy inexorably into a corner with the speed of her blows, only allowing him time to defend her parries. They broke apart, breathing hard. “That’s my knife,” Ginny gasped, eyes narrowed at Malfoy.

“Well, you’re about to get it back,” Malfoy sneered. But the fight lasted only a few more minutes. Malfoy was tiring rapidly, the combined forces of Ginny and a much smaller weapon forcing him to block far more than he attacked. He blocked a blow from Ginny. She slid the blade of her sword down and around Malfoy’s dagger, popping it effortlessly from his grasp. Ginny grabbed his arm and whirled him about, twisting his arm up between them, his back pressed to her front. Smiling grimly, she held her sword tight against the pale, delicate skin of his throat and reached into his pocket for their wands.

“Not so fast, Miss Weasley,” a cold voice said from the dim corridor. Harry spun around just in time to watch the door to the cell clang shut, effectively trapping the three of them inside. On the other side of the bars stood Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail, both of whom had their wands trained steadily on Harry.

“Or what?” Ginny asked, tightening her grip on the sword. A thin trickle of blood slid down Malfoy’s neck at the sudden increase in pressure from her blade and he whimpered pathetically, his eyes huge pools of grey in his pale, panic-stricken face. “I’ve got a sword on your son,” Ginny pointed out, “and you know I can kill him quite easily.”

“You can,” Lucius replied with a small smile, “but you won’t. You’re just not a killer, Miss Weasley. It’s simply not in you. I, on the other hand…” he waved his wand pointedly at Harry. “Now toss those wands here before I’m driven to do something you might deem… unforgivable.”

Ginny laughed derisively. “I’m not a killer? I was born to fight and kill—it’s my sacred duty! And Draco,” she added, jabbing the boy again to draw another small rivulet of blood, “has given me plenty of incentives to comply with that destiny.”

“Have it your way, my dear,” Malfoy replied. “Crucio!”

At once Harry felt as if his very bones were on fire. He thought the heat would melt his skin from his frame, the pain would surely drive him mad… He felt his knees crash into the floor painfully as he lost the ability to hold his own weight, every muscle screaming as if a thousand knives were being driven directly into his flesh. He only barely registered shouting and the sound of someone else crashing to the floor beside him. The pain consumed him so completely, for a moment Harry forgot who he was.

And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone and he found himself curled in a ball on the dirt floor of the cell, whimpering just as pathetically as Malfoy had done. With a gentle touch on his shoulder, Ginny turned him onto his back. She hovered above him, her face a mask of remorse.

“Harry!” she said, her voice urgent. “Harry, are you alright?”

Harry shook his head yes, but allowed Ginny to help him up. He felt weak and tired, his muscles aching as if he’d run a marathon. Lucius Malfoy smiled coolly at him from the other side of the bars, tapping his wand gently against the palm of his left hand. Harry, Ginny, and Draco’s wands were all clutched tightly in Wormtail’s silver hand. Draco cowered in the far corner of the small cell, looking for all the world like a caged animal, his eyes tracking Ginny’s movements as if he were waiting for her next attack.

“Oh honestly boy,” Lucius Malfoy snapped, staring down his nose at his son. “Get up! And do try not to wet yourself while you’re at it. She’s only a girl—nothing more, nothing less.”

“Father,” Draco said, scrambling to his feet, “please Father, you know that’s not true! You’ve got to get me away from her. She’ll… she’ll kill me! She’s vicious. I’ve seen her in action.”

“Now now, Draco. A Malfoy never snivels unless the Dark Lord is present. You must attempt to remember these things, boy.”

"What do you want with us, Malfoy?" Harry asked, glaring as he leaned against Ginny, his legs tingling painfully with the aftershocks of Cruciatus.

Lucius Malfoy snorted derisively. "I think that should be obvious, Potter, and I'll thank you not to ask anymore silly questions. We'll be back," he added with a slight smile. "Don't go anywhere."

Wormtail seemed to think this was extremely funny. As the two of them turned to leave, Harry could hear him laughing loudly down the corridor until they turned the corner out of sight.

"This is ridiculous," Ginny said, glaring at Malfoy and sheathing Gryffindor's sword. "We can't just sit here and wait for them to come back. We have to do something."

"And what do you propose?" Draco asked, standing carefully and keeping his back to the wall. "Father will come back and let me out. I don't much care what happens to the two of you."

Ginny glared and sat down on the filthy floor, leaning against the wall and looking completely exhausted. Harry sat down next to her, moving gingerly and wincing at the ache in his muscles.

"I hate to admit it," he told her, "but Malfoy's right. We're locked in here without our wands, and they're bound to come back soon. With Voldemort, and then, well... I'm just sorry they dragged you into this," he said miserably. "You shouldn't be here at all. This is all my fault."

"Do shut up, Harry, and let me think," Ginny said.

Across the cell, Malfoy snorted and sat down against the opposite wall, watching Ginny, his light eyes strangely intense.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Harry's thoughts whirling in confusion. How had Ginny known he was here, and what was going on between her and Malfoy? The fight between them, and what had Ginny meant, killing was her sacred duty?

And then it clicked with a flash of sudden understanding. All the strange occurrences, her closeness to Buffy, that night at the club, the vampires. It all added up into one unavoidable conclusion.

"You're the Slayer."

Leaning against the opposite wall, Malfoy smirked and rolled his eyes. "Why Potter, you are capable of thinking on your own. Congratulations."

Ginny ignored Malfoy and turned to face him. "It's not that simple, Harry." Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall and took a deep breath. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I wanted to... to tell you myself, so many times, but I just..."

"You just what?" Harry asked, watching her with eyes that suddenly felt too dry. His chest ached and Harry rubbed at it absently. He couldn't think. His head felt like it was filled with water and nothing seemed to make sense anymore except the burning feeling of betrayal and hurt. "Ginny, why didn't you tell me?"

"It's complicated," Ginny said.

"Stop taking the piss and tell him already," Malfoy said with that infuriatingly knowing smile. "And for Mordred's sake, stop pretending to be all tortured about the whole thing. You love being the Slayer. You love having the power, and you asked for it."

"Shut it, Draco," Ginny muttered, turning to face Harry. She took another deep breath. "Please Harry, just listen to me all right? I'll tell you everything later, I promise. But we need to think of a plan right now, before they come back."

"I can't think of anything," Harry said, looking away. "This is... a lot, Ginny. I knew there was something wrong, but I never... hang on. Does Hermione know about this?" Ginny's gaze dropped to the floor and her knuckles whitened as she clenched her hands together in her lap. "She does, doesn't she? Why didn't she tell me and Ron? We've been worried for months!"

"The brain didn't let her lackeys in on the secret?" Malfoy said.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Ginny and Harry, glaring across the cell.

"Look Harry, I don't have time to tell you everything now. But I can tell you the bare bones and later we'll have a real talk, all right? After we get out of this hell hole. And Draco?" She turned her head to give him a hard look. "You had better be thinking of a way to get us out this. It's your fault we're here, and you'd better believe me when I say that I will get out of it just fine. You, on the other hand, I have serious doubts about."

Ginny turned back to Harry and grasped one of his hands in both of her own. "First off Harry, please believe me when I say I'm so sorry for, well, everything." Across the cell, Malfoy made a gagging noise, but Ginny ignored him. "I never thought, when I agreed... I should start at the beginning.

"You know what the Slayer is—we all got that lecture back in September. But what you don't know is how the next Slayer is chosen. Normally, when one Slayer dies, the next is chosen. And there are girls, potential Slayers, all over the world, some being trained from birth just in case they get called."

"But Buffy's already the Slayer. She hasn't died or anything. Unless... she hasn't been replaced by a robot has she?"

"A whatsit?" Ginny asked. "Never mind. She hasn't been replaced. Well, or that's the problem really, isn't it? Buffy... she told you about how she died, right? When she died, a Slayer called Kendra was called. But she was killed the next year, and Faith was called."

"What--the one who's in prison?"

"Yes, exactly. She's in prison, and she's not going to get out, well, ever. She's got a life sentence. And the thing is, since Buffy's already died, she's not even the active Slayer anymore. Faith is. Which means another Slayer won't be called--"

"Until Faith dies."

"Right. Which obviously isn't going to happen anytime soon. So the Watcher's Council—that's the group in charge of the Slayer—decided that something needed to be done about it."

"I thought Buffy didn't work for the Council any longer," Harry said, frowning.

"She doesn't. But they needed her help. Actually, they needed Willow. They found a spell that could separate the essence of the Slayer—her powers, strength, speed, and all that—from the person. From Faith. But first they needed a witch strong enough to perform the spell, and the only one still living is Willow. Then they needed a replacement, someone they could put that power into. Someone to be the next Slayer."

"And they chose you." Harry's voice was flat. He could barely look at Ginny, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. She looked like she wanted to cry, but knew there wasn't time. "Ginny, why did you ever agree?"

"Later Harry, okay?" Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "Just let me get through this, yeah?" At Harry's nod, Ginny continued, "It wasn't quite like that. They had to get Willow to agree, and for that, Buffy and Willow and the rest wanted a say in who became the next Slayer. So they made a deal. Willow had spent some time in England last summer with a coven and she'd met Professor McGonagall, who helped get her the job here. Buffy... she wanted to make sure that the next Slayer had every advantage. And once they found out about Hogwarts, they knew they wanted a witch.

"They didn't tell the Watcher's Council about what they were going to do until after they'd found me. They needed a potential Slayer, and I was the only one at Hogwarts. Well, not the only one, there was some first year girl, a muggle-born, but she was too young. So it was me, and I agreed without hesitation. I thought..." She let out a little laugh, and rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "I thought I could protect my family and... and you. If I did it. If I became the Slayer. I'd have power, and I could... I dunno, save you."

"Ginny I... I don't know what to say."

"Then for all our sakes, keep bloody quiet," Malfoy muttered.

"Don't, Harry. It's. Look. I made the decision, knowing what it would mean. What I didn't know was how pissed off the Council would be. There's some rule, I guess... a witch hasn't been called in centuries, there aren't very many potentials who are witches. And the last one that was called... she was too powerful for the Council to control. When they found out about me—after Willow had already done the spell, of course—they decided to fix the problem."

"Yeah, by having you killed," Malfoy said under his breath.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Draco," Ginny warned, not taking her eyes off Harry. "Shut it."

"Is that true?" Harry asked.

Ginny swallowed. "Kind of. It's--"

"More complicated than that, I know," Harry said bitterly.

"Don't. Please," Ginny said, squeezing his hand. "They hired a group called the Order of Tarakan to take me out."

"The Order of Tarakan?"

"It's an assassin’s order," Ginny explained, "a loose-knit group that competes to kill their target. You've been asking me about Halloween for months. The Order had been called a week before, only a few days after I became the Slayer. The dementors came, and that's when everything got a hundred times more complicated. The attack was a diversion to get me away from the castle so that Lucius Malfoy could talk to me. He... he knew, somehow, about the Order. He said he wanted to help, that Voldemort wanted me for his side and it was in their best interest to help keep me alive until the Council called off the Order. I didn't agree. I got away, that's when I found you in the forest.

"But it all got to be too much. Even with Buffy and Willow helping and even some of the teachers... Snape knew, of course, and Dumbledore. But they agreed to keep quiet about it. I didn't want Mum to know. Once the Council called on the Order, I didn't dare tell anyone else about it. The Order would stop at nothing to make their kill and I couldn't put any of you in danger like that. That's when I decided to take Lucius Malfoy up on his offer."

"Ginny. What did you do?"

"It wasn't like that, I swear," Ginny said desperately. "Please believe me. I went to Draco. You saw me that night in the corridor. And he helped me. Lucius Malfoy and the others helped too, by taking out known assassins. But the Council didn't give up, and even with Draco's help, I'm just barely getting by."

"You should've told us, Ginny. Me and Hermione and Ron, we could've helped you. God, I can't believe you'd go to Malfoy over us!"

"It wasn't like that, Harry, I swear. Please. I know you understand. Haven't you ever kept something a secret because you didn't want to put the people you cared about in danger?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had kept things from his friends—the prophecy for one. He hadn't wanted to put them in danger, and he remembered how angry Hermione and Ron had been when he'd finally told them. But they had forgiven him, and looking at Ginny now, he knew she really had been doing what she thought best, no matter how ill-advised.

"Yes," he said finally. "I just wish... things had been different."

"I do too, Harry." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him in a hard hug. Harry hugged her back. He had missed her, so much, and he hadn't realized until now just how much. Regardless of what she thought, Ginny was his friend, and he wasn't going to take her for granted again. Or at least, he would try not to.

"Oh honestly," Malfoy said. "When you two are done with your little love fest, can we get on with the plan to get out of this bloody hole?"

Ginny pulled away from him to glare at Malfoy. "I thought your daddy was going to rescue you," she said.

Malfoy sneered. "Well if he doesn't, I might as well be prepared, yeah?"

To Harry's surprise and disgust, Ginny smiled at him. Smiled. He thought she was done with Malfoy. It had certainly seemed that way when they were fighting to the death earlier. But now she was grinning at him as if she was actually pleased that he was there.

"We have Harry's Invisibility Cloak," Ginny said, standing up to pace around the tiny cell. "And we've got the sword and my knife, so we're not completely defenseless. But I think it best we find a way out of here before they come back for us. Draco, how are these cells locked? Is it magically, or just a regular lock and key sort of thing?"

"They're not magical," Malfoy said, "not that that really helps us, as we haven't exactly got keys."

"I can pick locks," Harry offered, "but we haven't got picks either."

"Lot of help you are," Malfoy said.

"Draco, you are not helping. You're the reason we're here in the first place! You and your notes." At Malfoy's surprised expression, Ginny snorted. "Yes, your notes. As if I didn't know it was you."

"But you came anyway," Malfoy said, sounding oddly weak.

"I wasn't going to let Harry walk into a trap. And I knew he'd come—of course he did. Even if he hated me, he couldn't very well ignore a note saying I'd been taken. He's not like you, Draco. He actually cares."

"I care," Malfoy said, and Ginny made a strange noise in the back of her throat like an angry cat.

"You care as far as it serves you to. But when it comes down to it, you haven't got a loyal bone in your body except to your precious father."

"I thought we were thinking of a way to escape?" Harry interrupted. He didn't want to listen to Ginny and Malfoy argue. He hated knowing that they were close, regardless of how they had gotten there, and he didn't want to hear anymore than he already had.

With a sigh, Ginny sat down next to Harry again and looked from one to the other hopelessly. "Well. Let's start planning then."

Three hours later they were still in the cell with no plan, ready to kill each other. Well, Malfoy and Harry were ready to kill each other and Ginny looked as if she were quite willing to kill both of them.

"This is hopeless," Malfoy said, tugging at his hair in frustration. "We're never getting out of here, not unless they let us out, and somehow I don't think that's about to happen anytime soon."

"Do I need to remind you that this is your fault?" Ginny asked. "Just, we need to—"

But just then the sound of footsteps rapping along the stone corridor outside their cell cut Ginny off. The three of them stared at each other for a moment before scrambling up. Ginny handed Harry her knife and unsheathed Gryffindor's sword. Malfoy back up into the corner, looking terrified. Harry gripped the knife, liking the feel of it in his hand. He was ready. Whatever happened, whatever he needed to do... standing next to him, Ginny's face was grim, her jaw clenched and the sword held loosely in her hand by her side.

"Foolish children," a voice, dark and deep, came from the shadowy corridor beyond. "Put down your weapons and stop being idiots, I've come to get you out of this."

"Professor?" Ginny asked, rushing forward. "Thank god, Professor Snape! Please hurry. Have you got the key?"

Squinting in the dim dungeon, Harry could just make out Snape's dark form beyond the cell bars. Harry thought he must be using some sort of Disillusionment charm, because he could barely see the man.

"Of course I have. Unlike you, when I set out to rescue someone, I do it properly."

"That's very interesting, Severus. I find it quite fitting that this, at last, is the way you've been discovered. Rescuing my son."

Out of the darkness stepped Lucius Malfoy, a wicked smile on his sharp face. Harry gripped his knife tighter in his palm, feeling desperate and hopeless as Snape whirled to face the other man. Snape didn't pause for a second before casting his first spell. Malfoy blocked the flash of red light easily with a spell of his own and they began dueling in earnest. Harry could barely see the two of them through the flashes of colored light but he could hear them, Snape hissing his spells in an almost whisper while Malfoy shouted his, as if saying them louder would make them all the more powerful. Neither of them attempted the Killing Curse and Harry knew with a dreaded certainty why. Whoever won would accuse the other of trying to set them free, of defecting, and Harry understood without a doubt that if Snape lost this duel, he would die. No, not just that. Voldemort would kill him.

Another flash of light, bright white this time, and Harry heard Snape shout and a loud crash. And when the smoke cleared, Snape lay immobile on the ground, even more pale than he normally was, clearly unconscious.

Behind him, he heard Draco whimper. "We're doomed."

Lucius Malfoy gave them all a chilling smile. "Don't be ridiculous, Draco. You're not doomed. I can't very well say the same thing for your associates, of course. Now then if you'll excuse me, I've got to go see a man about the ritual sacrifice of a betrayer."

Without another word, Malfoy turned and rushed back down the corridor, his robes whipping around the corner and out of sight.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. You're father is a complete nutter."

"Shut up, Harry, we've got to do something!" Ginny said, crouching down by the bars and reaching toward Snape. He was breathing, but just, and getting paler and paler with every second. Ginny's fingers just scraped the hem of Snape's robe, but she couldn't get a grip on him.

"Hang on a second," Harry said. "He's got a key, right? I... I might be able to get it."

"How?" Draco asked, looking half hopeful, half terrified. "We haven't got wands, remember? And Snape... he looks like he might die on us at any second. Father won't be gone for long, either. Whatever we do, it needs to be fast."

Harry took a deep breath and knelt on the ground. Using his knife, he carefully drew a pentagram in the dirt of the floor. He didn't have any salt or candles, so he wasn't even sure this would work, but it was the only thing he could think of.

"What does he think he's doing?" Malfoy asked.

"Shut it, Draco," Ginny said, and Harry had the distinct feeling she said that a lot.

Taking another deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. It took him a few moments to remember the incantation for the levitation spell Willow had taught him months ago and for a moment he panicked as the words refused to come. But then like a light flicking on inside his head he remembered and began to speak.

He wasn't sure it was working, but he tried anyway, doing as Willow had taught him and imagining the key, inside Snape's pocket. He imagined fingers reaching out and tugging on the keys, pulling them inexorably from the pocket and lifting them up and over. His hands were shaking and he refused to open his eyes, pouring all his concentration into the spell.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled. "I've got them, I've got the keys!"

Harry's eyes flew open and he sat back on his heels, pressing his hands against his eyes for a moment before looking at Ginny with a smile. She wasn't paying attention though; instead she was unlocking the cell with shaking hands, one arm stuck outside the bars as she turned the key with a satisfying click. She pushed open the door and ran to Snape, dropping to her knees at his side.

"Oh god," she whispered, pressing her fingers to his wrist. "I can barely feel his pulse. We have to do something quickly or he's going to die."

"I know," Harry said quickly, hurrying to kneel on Snape's other side. Digging through his pockets, he found his phial of Chronos Concoction and popped the cork. "This is Chronos Concoction," he told Ginny. "Remember—Hermione found out about it? Well we made some months ago. It won't cure him or reverse whatever Malfoy's horrid father did, but it'll keep him in this state, exactly, for one hour." Ginny nodded and Harry tipped the contents into Snape's mouth, hoping it worked.

"Come on," Harry said. "We've got to get out of here. Can you lift Snape?"

"It'll be a job, but yeah, I think I can manage with your help."

"So you're going then?" Draco asked. He stood just inside the cell, his eyes dark as he tracked their movements.

"We're going, Draco," Ginny said sharply, hefting Snape up by the arms until he was sitting up. She slipped beneath one of his arms and wrapped her own around his waist, lifting him to a standing position. Harry hurried forward to help, lifting Snape's free arm around his shoulders.

"I... I can't. My father. You don't understand." But Draco looked miserable as he raked his fingers through his hair, his eyes trained on Ginny. For a moment Harry thought he might actually cry, but then he spoke again, sounding petulant and arrogant. "You wouldn't understand what it means to be a Malfoy. Blood traitor," he added in a low mutter.

Ginny turned to face him, putting all Snape's weight on Harry, who gritted his teeth beneath the added weight.

"He locked you in a cage, Draco. Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me you still believe his lies?"

"He's my father," Draco spat, "my family. Surely you of all people can understand that. If I leave with you now, I can never come back."

Harry sighed impatiently and shifted under Snape's weight. He wished they could just leave Malfoy there. It was obvious to Harry that he'd never leave with them—he wasn't ready to turn against his father yet, regardless of how much Ginny pleaded. But he remained silent. Ginny looked as if she might start crying at any moment; Harry flinched when she crossed the distance between them in two long strides and flung herself against Draco's chest. She embraced him fiercely while Draco just stood there dumbly. She backed away quickly before he could even raise his arms to return it, staring at him hard for several long moments as if trying to memorize his face.

"You've got choices, Draco," she said, her voice raspy with emotion. "You have. You're not locked in like me—you get to choose your destiny. Don't waste it on him." There was no doubt in Harry's mind that she meant Lucius Malfoy, but he thought her words were falling on deaf ears. Draco would never choose her over his father.

Ginny turned away from Draco, snatching up the Invisibility Cloak where it lay forgotten in the corner. Tucking it in her robes, she took Snape's arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, shifting most of his weight off Harry and onto her.

"Come on then, Harry. Endgame's calling."