Not Just an Empty Emotion

Chapter 9- Repercussions

Harry threw himself against the Gryffindor entrance portrait and out into the dark corridor beyond. Sprinting back towards where he had left Malfoy he panted, and clutched at his aching chest-willing the pain to disappear.

He needed to find Malfoy. Somehow, though he had no idea how it could have happened, he knew Malfoy had felt the same as he had done. He had felt the three-way connection-between himself, Malfoy...and Voldemort.

He sped round the corner and down a narrow flight of stairs, ripped through portrait after portrait, all the while clawing at the pain in his heart.

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Draco had stumbled to his feet and sped out of the door as fast as he could-his heart thudding painfully. He had no idea where he was going, all he knew was that he needed to find Potter. But where would he be? He was sure Potter had felt it too-but would he come looking for Draco? Where was the Gryffindor common room? He'd never been there before.

He rounded a corner, expecting danger or death at every turn, but meeting nothing other than coats of armour shining in the moonlight. His whole body ached terribly, though he knew he must ignore it and go on-something had happened. Something terrible.

He reached the third floor and began to thud up the next flight of stairs. Suddenly an extra pain was added to his aches-his foot had become trapped in one of the stairs. He thrust himself forwards desperately but to no avail-all he succeeded in doing was twisting his ankle and pushing himself further into the stairway.

He cried out in pain and sank onto the banister.

Fuck! he screamed internally. He knew that his only hope now would be for Potter to somehow find him...

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He reached a long stretch of landing and stared around. He didn't recognise this place. But that's a load of shit! He thought, I've been here for 5 years...how can I not know where the hell I am? I can't lose my way! Not now! Looking around there were no doors, and no other corridors leading away except for the one he had just come down.

As if by instinct he decided to turn left. He started off quickly, but as he neared the end of the corridor he slowed-he wasn't entirely sure what he was seeing.
In the wall ahead a shape had appeared, like a large arch in the wall. Only, there was nothing on the other side, it was like a great black abyss. A slight humming seemed to be coming from it. He walked towards it slowly, intrigued. He reached out his hand, subconsciously, as though to touch it...

Suddenly a scream of agony came from the direction of the black arch, bringing Harry back to his senses. He stumbled backwards and almost tripped on the hem of his long black robes. He gave the arch one last, wary look and ran as fast as he could towards the corridor he had come down. As he reached the end of it he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a door that he had not noticed before. Deciding to take the chance he flung himself into it, turning the handle as best he could using his sweaty hands. Finally, after what seemed like an age of his hands slipping over the cold metal the door clicked, he pushed, and it swung open slowly. He forced his way through the narrow gap it made, and the second his robes had snapped away from the opening he heard a click and the door had shut to become a solid wall once again.

He was bewildered but he had no time to ponder the mysteries of Hogwarts right now. He ran along a short corridor, sure he was hearing voices in his mind as a distant panting sound made his head throb. He found a staircase and swung himself up it, before he heard-

"Potter! POTTER!"

He stopped dead and turned sharply, fear etched all across his face.

"Potter, thank God! Thank God!"

It was Malfoy. Harry's heart entered his mouth, and Harry, telling himself it was with relief, ran towards the blond boy. "What are you doing here?" he asked, breathless.

"I was looking for you...and I got stuck in this shitty staircase. I can't get out! I feel as stupid as Longbottom looks...."

Harry frowned slightly, but bent down all the same to pull Malfoy from the staircase. It took a lot of effort but after a few seconds Malfoy's leg slid painfully out of the stair and he was able to clamber to the top.

Harry grabbed Malfoy's arms and shook him, before embracing him tightly, protecting him. "So you felt it too." He said simply.

"Yes," said Malfoy. "I felt it. And I knew you had too."

"I know. I had hoped you hadn't. This isn't your responsibility."

"What? What do you mean?" Malfoy's brow creased in confusion.

Harry flushed and said "Never mind. We need to find out what the hell's going on here."

Malfoy didn't argue, but gave Harry a calculating look. "Do you know what it was?" he asked.

"No. But I've got a pretty good idea about what it was about." He took a deep breath. "Snape, before, in potions. He gave me a detention. But he told me to come tomorrow...why then? Why not tonight? It's a bit...well suspicious."

"But...where would he go? Would he be going to the manor? To met Voldemort? Or are the bastards doing something else tonight."

"No. I mean...maybe. I don't know where they've gone, but I'm pretty sure Snape's with Voldemort. But he isn't a Death Eater, Malfoy, he's on our side."

Malfoy gave a derisive snort and started to complain about how dumb Harry was, but Harry interrupted.

"I know he isn't Malfoy. I can't tell you how but you'll have to trust me. Please. You've got no choice-we're friends, remember?" Harry couldn't help but give a little smile in the dark.

"I suppose so," said Malfoy sulkily. "So, why's he with Voldemort then if he's not lickin' his ass?"

"Because he's getting information. I don't know what's gone on. And there's something else. When I was coming to find you there was a...thing...in the wall. Like a crappy Muggle portal or something...it was weird...It was like an archway in the wall, it was black-"

"Shit, Potter," said Malfoy quietly, "I think I know what this is. I've heard of them. But if it is...this is bad. Really bad. You didn't touch it did you?"

Harry hesitated a moment, "No. Almost, though."

"Fuck. That's too close, Potter. I think it's a Death Arch."

"What?!" yelled Harry, forgetting it was the middle of the night. He had never heard of one, but he definitely didn't like the sound of it.

"It's a really powerful Dark Spell. It has to be there for years before it was used. And it has to be created by the wizard using it. Most of the time it's dormant, except when the wizard or witch needs it. So it's possible that over 50years ago when Voldemort was at Hogwarts he cast the spell...he must have been bloody brilliant because it's some of the most advanced magic possible. Basically it's like a warning, and as it's warning it gathers power. When it's got enough power-from both the place where it's cast and the place where the spell-caster is then it comes into action. Anyone who touches it has a really horrible death...hey kind of get sucked in. And their bones sort of...appear at the spell-casters feet. And dead things can come out of it. Evil things. And when it goes dormant, the place where it is will just...disappear. I don't know much about them though..." Malfoy broke off and shuddered.

"Shit. So what is it doing now? Why now? And what's that got to do with Snape?" Harry breathed.

"I don't know. Voldemort might have asked him to do something....sacrifice something. Or maybe he punished him. That'll be the pain. If someone makes a sacrifice-say, a pet or something, then they become bound to the place where it was made. And if Voldemort was really, really angry then the Arch would have recognised that, if it wasn't dormant."

"But how did we feel.... that?"

"I don't know...we're both sort of connected to him, aren't we? Maybe we've both got that, in the extreme?"

"But I thought that had left us?"

"Obviously not. Looks like it's come back. Or maybe...maybe it's changed or something. But how could that happen? We've stopped the visions, haven't we? Or maybe he's just stopped feeling stuff. FUCK!" He yelled. "What the hell is going on!?"

"I don't know, but I don't think there's anything we can do. We probably won't be able to find the Death Arch again. It'll be gone now."

"We must be able to do something, surely?" Malfoy said, desperately.

"Well, I don't think-"

CRASH!

One of the oak doors of the entrance hall had just swung open with the force of a spell, crashed into the wall, left someone inside and swung closed again. Malfoy and Harry backed into the wall behind them, not sure what to do.

"Luminous Areus" whispered Malfoy, and the entrance hall lit with a faint glimmer.

Immediately Harry recognised the gaunt skin, greasy hair and hooked nose of the figure lying on the floor;

It was an unconscious Professor Snape.

The two boys looked at each other before jumping over the banister and running, at top speed, down the stairs. Harry could hear Malfoy muttering, fast, under his breath. The panic in his voice was obvious. Although he had never exactly been fond of Snape, Harry still didn't want him to be harmed-he may be a complete bastard, but he was finally coming to accept that Snape was on their side.

Malfoy flung himself onto the hard stone floor next to Snape, felt his pulse and began to slap his face.

"Snape! Snape! Severus! Wake up you stupid git!"

Harry looked at the boy in some surprise before setting himself down onto the floor too, and conjuring cold flannels onto Snape's forehead. His skin was damp with cold sweat, and his lips were purple.

"Malfoy," he said gently, getting no response. "Malfoy."

"What?" the response was barely a whisper.

"We've got to move him. We can't leave him here. He needs to be in the hospital wing."

"I know. But how do we move him? He's going to be too heavy to lift...for us anyway. Us little weakling seekers..."

"Are you being deliberately stupid?" Harry teased in effort to cheer him up. "You're a bloody wizard, dumbass."

Malfoy gave a coy, embarrassed smile and stood up, waving his wand as he did so. The unconscious form of Snape rose with him, and hung in the air, his limbs swinging.

"We have to move quickly, Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded, dumbly. He seemed to be in shock. His legs, however seemed to be in perfect working order as he and Harry ran up the many staircases to the hospital wing. And Harry couldn't help noticing as they ran that when Draco ran it was very...very...sexy. But he wouldn't admit it to himself.

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They reached the hospital wing in five minutes flat and were soon hammering on Madam Pomfrey's door. She opened it looking sleepy, pulling a thick gown over her nightdress.

"Whassup?" she muttered, rubbing here eyes.

"It's Sn- Professor Snape. He's...not very well."

Madam Pomfrey rushed from her office and along the narrow room to the bed where Malfoy was gently lowering Snape onto a bed. Madam Pomfrey felt his temperature, forced open his mouth and poured a jet-black liquid into it with her wand. It took a few seconds to take effect, but suddenly Snape sat bolt upright in his bed and began to shake violently. Madam Pomfrey restrained him and pushed him into bed where he soon calmed. He didn't speak for a moment, but Madam Pomfrey closed her eyes, muttered something, and continued her work.

Malfoy and Harry looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.

For a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey worked in silence, no one else present making a sound.

A small noise behind him made Harry jump. Turning around he saw Albus Dumbledore framed in the light of the corridor outside. The Headmaster closed the door and strode sombrely across the room.

"Ah, Headmaster. You received my summons?"

"I did, Poppy," he said, and without further hesitation bent over Snape and said something very quietly, so that no one else present could hear. Snape said something back, in a hoarse voice, which Harry couldn't quite catch.

Dumbledore straightened up and looked to Malfoy and Harry. "Thank you." He said simply.

This was not at all what Harry had expected. He didn't say anything, but looked into Dumbledore's eyes.

"Professor Snape, as you can probably guess, has jus had a meeting with Lord Voldemort. It was not a happy meeting, and Professor Snape has suffered some serious repercussions. He tells me that Voldemort has set up a Death Arch in the school. If this is true, it will have been accessible tonight. I need to know, Harry and Draco, did you see it on your wanderings? I know the connection would have brought it to your attention."

They looked at each other. "Yes." Said Harry finally, "I saw it. Nothing came out, though."

Dumbledore sighed, and closed his eyes in relief.

"Thank-you, boys. You must leave, go back to your respective dormitories and please, keep what you have witnessed tonight between yourselves. Goodnight."

They bade Dumbledore goodnight and hurried out of the hospital wing. They walked in silence until they reached the staircase where they were to split up.

"Well done tonight, Malfoy."

"What?" he said, jerkily, "What for?"

"You were brave. But...why? Why do you care so much for him?"

"I thought he was a bastard," he said after some time. "I saw him sometimes at the manor. He didn't come round often, but...what you said tonight. I don't know why but I believe it. I really do. And...I just.... I dunno, I guess I care more for him. I understand him. God this sounds crap..."

"No it doesn't, go on."

"Well...I felt sorry for him. I mean, face it, we give him some tough shit...before the summer when I was...you know...I liked him. I thought it was fantastic that he was a Death Eater, and the only person I knew at Hogwarts who supported Voldemort, but since I've come back I've felt nothing but hatred. I feel bad about that now-he didn't deserve it, did he?"

"I suppose not. But it's still not excuse for how he treats us like shit..."

Malfoy smiled, that is just typical Potter, really...he thought.

"What!?" said Harry at the look ok Malfoy's face.

"Nothing! I never said anything," Malfoy said, "I was just thinking how typical of you it was to still hate him..."
Harry didn't say anything, just raised his eyebrows ironically, which Malfoy copied sarcastically.

The strong wind outside blew through an open window and rattled the heavy door to their left, making the locks and chains clang angrily. Remembering they were meant to be going back to their dormitories Harry turned back to Malfoy and said,

"You look dead on your feet. You should go to bed-you're eyes are all swollen and red..."

Malfoy scrubbed at him eyes in annoyance with his knuckles, clapped Harry on the shoulder and whipped back around to return to the Slytherin common room-no intention of going to bed.

"Oh, Malfoy?" Harry called after his back.

Malfoy turned again and said, "What?"

"Good look on Saturday-we'll flatten you, you're crap!"

Malfoy looked confused for a second, then his face cleared and he said, "Don't speak too soon, cocky!" Shit! Done it again! He scalded himself, as he ran down the stairs to the dungeons, twisting round just in time to see Potter's back retreating up the steep staircase, his robes billowing.

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Draco Malfoy was sat on the floor of the Slytherin common room in front of the embers of the dying fire embracing his knees. Every now and then a flame would creep around the edge of a burnt log and flicker for a few seconds, interrupting Draco's train of thought with erotic images and ideas. As the spark died his mind quickly fell back to the more urgent matters at hand, though.

He was totally confused. He no longer knew his position, or how he had got there. All he knew for certain was that Potter had got him here, and he was the only one who could get him out of this position. Or did he want to get out of it? He was sure he was-he needed certainty, not guilt and bloody confusion.

But how to get it?

*

Around four in the morning Draco dragged himself to his feet and down the stone staircase to his bedroom, stumbling over his robes. He didn't bother undressing, just threw himself on the bed, and under the covers, before magicing the green hangings closed and attempting to sleep.

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As soon as Harry reached the safety of the common room once more he ran up to his dormitory, snatched up a goblet, filled it with water and drank deeply until the feeling of nausea left his shaking body. He contemplated waking Ron to tell him what had happened, and was almost at his bed when he changed his mind. Telling Ron would mean breaking his word to Dumbledore, and then there was the small matter of explaining about Malfoy...no, he couldn't do it. But he would have to at some point...

Instead he stripped his clothes off and slid, naked, between his sheets. Laying his head onto his soft pillow he immediately fell drowsy, but it was a long time before Harry Potter got to sleep that night....