The Scent of Lightning

Chapter Ten

"Conway!"

The red-haired Auror turned as Ron called out to him down the hall. "Hey, Weasley. What's up?"

"Nothing much. Still working on this murder case," Ron said with a sigh.

Conway shook his head in sympathy. "Tough luck to get landed with that. Although it's got to be more exciting than what Robards has stuck me and Worley with."

"Oh, what's that?" Ron asked, trying to sound casual.

Conway rolled his eyes. "Monitoring tracking and sensing spells. You can't imagine how boring it is, sitting in that room all day watching little dots move around. Worley falls asleep half the time."

"There have to be some perks."

"Well, occasionally you get to go out and give an official warning." He laughed. "We stopped by to see that snotty Malfoy brat the other day." Ron couldn't find it in himself to even pretend to laugh, remembering Malfoy's white, scared face. Conway gave him an odd look, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. You're friends with Harry Potter, aren't you?" Conway shook his head. "Whatever is he doing with a piece of trash like Malfoy? Bastard reeks of the Dark Arts."

"You have evidence on him then?" Ron held his breath.

"Nah. He'd just been over to Theodore Nott's place a few times. They were probably reminiscing about all the Muggles their fathers killed."

"Draco isn't like that anymore!" Ron said angrily.

"Whatever, Weasley," Conway said and walked on down the hall.

Merlin! I just stood up for Malfoy. Ron rubbed his eyes and opened them to find a memo flapping in front of his face. He grabbed it. Damn. Robards wanted to see him.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

"Three months, Weasley. Three months with no significant progress."

"As I said, sir, I have some new leads -"

"This thing about Nott and some obscure 'superior'?" Robards snorted. "You have absolutely no evidence to back that up. There's nothing to connect him to the crimes other than that he knew the two victims. Forget about him and try a new angle."

"But sir -"

"Dig through the records - see if there have been any similar cases. And go over the autopsy results again. We still don't know if these even were murders."

"Yes, sir," Ron muttered, and retreated to his office. He pulled out a piece of parchment.

Harry -

Change of plans. I won't be able to come out to the Smithy with you and Hermione this afternoon - Robards wants to see some "progress" on the case. You should be fine with Draco there.

Ron

He paused and looked back at what he had written. Now here he was, saying that Malfoy could watch Harry and Hermione's backs. And it was true, too, he realized. He trusted Draco. Shaking his head, he looked around for Pig, who was on his usual perch on top of the door, ready to swoop down on unsuspecting pedestrians in the hallway.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

"Ron had to work after all," Harry said to Hermione as she came in the door, "so it will just be us three."

"Oh, Ron had to work did he?" Hermione said frostily.

"Yes," Harry said warily, hoping Hermione wouldn't take out her bad mood on him.

"Well, I suppose the three of us - "

"We'll be fine," Harry said shortly and ignored the looks Hermione and Draco gave him.

They had to drive, since none of them had ever been there before. Harry turned the radio on. He could tell that Hermione wanted to question him about how he was feeling, and he didn't want to talk about it. He was fine. They were going to find the bridle, and then Slytherin wouldn't be able to use the White Horse. He'd remain powerless and it would only be a matter of time before they hunted him down.

Hints of spring were beginning to come to the countryside. Bits of greenery were sprouting up along the side of the road and buds covered the trees. Draco had never been in a Muggle car before, and was fascinated by the power windows. He kept pressing the button for his window to open and close it, while Hermione shot him irritated looks as the wind mussed her hair.

"Wayland Smithy is a Bronze Age burial site," Hermione said loudly over the noise from the radio and the wind. "There are six stones encircling the burial mound, and I believe the bridle will be hidden in one of those."

"It fits with the verse," Harry agreed.

Another car was parked by Wayland Smithy when they arrived. The surrounding trees were still bare, but green grass covered the mounds. It had rained recently, and Harry's shoes sank into mud when he stepped out of the car. Two tourists were walking around the stones, taking pictures.

He followed Hermione and Draco up the path to the burial mound. It looked gloomy, even in the bright sunlight. The six stones were standing in front, just as Hermione had said. A shadowed tunnel led between them into the mound. The place was silent except for their footsteps and the occasional click of a camera.

They walked around the mound and went inside, staring through the dim light at the enclosing walls. The tourists still hadn't left when they came out, so they were forced to hang around nervously. The tourists had been giving them some odd looks. Probably thought they were here to take drugs or something. Harry cleared his throat and went to read the interpretive sign for the fourth time.

Finally, the tourists got back in their car and drove off. Hermione immediately rushed over to one of the standing stones and drew out her wand. She cast the spell.

"Nothing. Try the next one," Harry said, shifting nervously next to her.

Hermione moved to the adjacent stone and whispered the spell again. Still nothing. Draco had his wand out and was scanning the area. Harry's hands itched to hold his wand, but knew it was pointless. He had tried to cast Impedimenta last night and nothing had happened. Anger and shame rose within him. What was he even doing here?

Hermione approached the third stone and raised her wand. She began to utter the spell. Suddenly, Draco shouted and then he was crashing into Hermione, carrying her to the ground. A bright flash of light exploded outward from the stone and there was a great bang. Harry felt himself lifted off his feet and flung several feet backwards.

Breathless, he lay on the ground. Bright spots glared behind his closed eyes. "Draco? Hermione?" he managed.

Footsteps sounded. "We're fine, Harry," Hermione said. "Draco got up a shield charm just in time."

"You okay?" Draco asked him.

"Yeah." Harry sat up, massaging his back where it had hit a rock. "What happened?"

"A trap," Draco said grimly. "Set to go off whenever anyone cast a spell on that stone. I barely felt the resonance in time."

And I didn't feel anything. I couldn't do anything except practically get myself killed. "I guess we know which stone the bridle is in," Harry forced himself to say in a light tone.

"So it would seem," Hermione said, brushing dust from her skirt. She went up to the stone again.

"Careful," Harry warned.

"It should be okay now," she said. Still, her hand shook a little as she raised her wand again. Draco had his trained on the stone. Hermione cast the spell.

The front of the stone began dissolving. It melted back, revealing a chamber hollowed out within the rock, big enough for an object the size of a bridle. It was empty.

Harry felt like another blast had hit him. "It's gone."

They stood there silently for a few moments. "Slytherin got here first," Hermione finally said. "Now he has everything he needs to get his powers back."

Harry stared at the empty hole. "We'll be there," he said slowly. "On May fifth - the night the White Horse comes to life. We'll be there to stop him." And what will you do Harry? Cheer them on?

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Hermione sat staring at the calendar. One month. They had one month before Slytherin would use the White Horse to go back to through the portal and retrieve his magic. Hermione laid her head down on her arms and tried not to cry. Slytherin had beaten them. After all their work to figure out about the White Horse, to find the spell, to find the bridle, he had gotten there first. And what could they do to stop him now? With Harry not able to do magic -

Hermione thought of when they had gone into the Department of Mysteries Fifth Year. She had been terrified, but she had trusted Harry. Harry had always been there to pull them out of trouble. And now he couldn't anymore.

There was no way to get his magic back, either. Hermione had thought and thought of a potion or a spell that might work, but could come up with nothing.

The door opened and Ron stepped into the room. His fingers were covered with ink and there were quite a few blobs on his robes as well.

"Working on a report?" Hermione asked, unable to stop from smiling fondly as she remembered Ron covered with ink after many a homework assignment.

Ron sighed and nodded. "The trouble is, I can't give Robards any proof. I can't put in anything that would incriminate Draco or Goyle."

"You'll figure it out." Hermione reached over to straighten his shirt collar. "The bridle was gone, Ron," she said in a low voice. "Slytherin got there before us. And Harry practically got himself killed!"

"Is he okay?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded, sniffing back tears. "But I don't know what we'll do now. I'm sure Slytherin will use Beltane to open the portal again. There's no sense in waiting for Samhain now that he has everything he needs. And Harry - oh, Ron - he might not have been physically hurt, but the look in his eyes. We have to do something!"

"We will." Ron hugged her close. "We won't let Slytherin win."

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Harry's eyes snapped open and stared at the dark ceiling. Draco was asleep beside him.

Slytherin stood up, wiping his mouth against his sleeve. "This is our last meeting, Harry. The last time I have to touch your filthy half-blood mind."

Harry was curled up on the ground, shaking. "You seem to like my filthy half-blood magic well enough."

"I have only freed it from the prison it was in," Slytherin said. "Magic - such a sublime, elemental essence." He appeared to be gazing out into the distance, although his face was still covered by the hood. "I can feel my own calling to me, beckoning to me." He looked down at Harry again. "Magic doesn't belong in the bodies of anything less than pure blood wizards and witches."

Harry felt cold. "Is that what you're planning to do then? Take away magic from anyone that isn't a pureblood?"

"It would be fitting, wouldn't it? Punish them for the damage they have done to our world." Slytherin took a few steps closer. "I see you are entertaining a foolhardy notion of stopping me." He laughed. "Try your best, Harry. Try your best."

"We will stop you."

Slytherin shook his head. "Are you wishing that I had just killed you? I could have. But I decided leaving you alive was a more appropriate punishment for the one who killed my last living heir - even if he was a half-blood. Do try and enjoy the rest of your...existence."

Harry reached out in the darkness for his wand. It fit smoothly in his hand, the wood warming to his touch.

"Lumos," he whispered.

Nothing happened.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Draco woke up to find Harry gone and Nott's owl tapping at the window. Muttering, he stumbled from bed and took the proffered parchment. Nott needed to see him - immediately.

Draco didn't bother trying to bring Greg along - he would be at work and it would be too suspicious to suddenly drag him away. Instead, he Apparated alone to Nott's house and rang the bell. Nott must have been waiting right inside the door because he opened it immediately. He looked like he hadn't slept in a few days.

"Come in," he said curtly. As soon as they were seated, he took out a bag of Galleons and tossed them to Draco. "I need you to do a job for me."

"What is it?" Draco asked slowly. Anything that made Nott bring out the money first thing couldn't be good.

"I'm expecting a shipment in two weeks. I need you to be there to pick it up."

"A shipment of what?"

"Manticore venom."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Where are you getting that from? Last I heard, it was a Class A illicit substance."

"It still is," Nott snapped, "and it's costing me a fortune. All because he doesn't think I can do it."

"Who doesn't think you can do what?"

Nott glared at him. "It's coming in two weeks from tonight. Down at the docks. The ship is called The Mermaid. It's already paid for, you just have to pick it up and bring it here. And make sure it really is manticore venom. I wouldn't put it past them to try to slip in a few vials filled with water."

v.v.v.v.v.v.

"Manticore venom?" Ron frowned. "What the devil does he want that for?"

"Nothing good," Draco said grimly. "Father used to use it to make a liquid version of Imperious."

"And you told him you would pick it up?"

Draco nodded. "I already told Greg to be ready to go."

"Good. I checked, and it doesn't look like the Ministry has anything on you. Still, I think this is getting too dangerous to keep going. Once you deliver the venom to Nott, I'll order a raid on his house. It might not be a murder charge, but harboring an illegal substance like that is quite enough to put him away in Azkaban."

Draco shifted, but nodded.

They sat silently for a few moments and then Ron asked quietly, "How's Harry?"

"Not so good. He went off somewhere this morning; I don't know where." Draco thought of how Harry had looked at Wayland Smithy. Shaken and defeated and sad.

Ron sighed. "Hermione's beating herself up over not being able to figure out a way to cure it. I keep telling her that Harry is going to get through this okay. You think he will, don't you?" Ron looked up at him and Draco read the anxious look in his eyes, pleading for reassurance.

"Yeah. Of course," Draco made himself say.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

The sun shone off the gold, dazzling Draco's eyes until he looked away. He poured the latest bag that Nott had given him into the hole, quickly pushed the dirt back over it. Standing up, he looked around, making sure that no one was watching. The hill was deserted, only a few birds flying about among the tumbled stones and blackened wood.

Stepping over a twisted pile of iron, Draco walked over to where his room had once been. Two stories up, of course, but it was still the same view. Soon he would have enough. Enough galleons to begin rebuilding.

In his mind, the manor rose about him. Timbers straightening up, ash falling away to reveal polished wood, stones flying back into place, glass becoming mirror like once more. It would be bigger this time and ten times more beautiful. No gloomy corners or hidden trapdoors, but full of light and air. People would come from miles around just to look at it. He would even put in a room all done in Gryffindor colors, for Harry.

Frowning, he remembered what Ron had said - that he was going to arrest Nott after the illegal shipment came in. With Nott gone, Draco's source of funds would be gone as well. He would be more than happy to see Nott behind bars, but - well, Draco would just have to find a few more lucrative avenues to pursue.

Draco checked once more to make sure the Galleons were safely hidden, then Apparated home. Harry hadn't arrived yet, so he sat down on the front stairs. The evening was quite warm for April. He was watching the first stars come out when a bus stopped in front of the gate, and Harry got out. He walked up the drive and sat down next to Draco.

"Where have you been all day?" Draco asked. "I was worried."

Harry didn't answer for a few moments, then said, "I couldn't see it."

"Couldn't see what?"

"Hogwarts." Harry looked at him, and Draco could tell he had been crying. "I went up there today. There was nothing. Just a ruined old castle."

Draco's chest felt tight. He put his arms around Harry.

"It's gone," Harry whispered.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

"I thought you should know," Draco said. Ron and Hermione's stricken faces stared down at him in the fireplace.

"He really couldn't see Hogwarts?" Ron whispered.

"No." Draco sighed. "He's asleep right now, but he was pretty...upset about it."

"He must know that it doesn't matter to us!" Hermione said. "That we all love him even without his magic."

"I hope he does," Draco replied. "I'm sure he does, but -" He shook his head. "I know what it's like to not be able to use magic, but at least I had hope. Harry doesn't even have that."

"Well he can't just give up or anything!" Ron said fiercely. "And he can't turn us away, either. We've gotten through everything together."

"And what if together is harder for him than apart?" Draco replied quietly.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Once, when he was eight years old, the Dursleys had taken him to London with them. Harry remembered standing on a street corner and looking at all the tall buildings and the hurrying traffic. It had seemed like an alien world, but one he had wanted desperately to inhabit. Anything had to be better than Privet Drive.

It still seemed like an alien world, but this time he wanted no part of it. Unfortunately, he no longer had a choice.

Harry walked slowly down the street. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He wasn't carrying his wand. He looked exactly like a Muggle. He was a Muggle. His eyes burned, and the street wavered in front of him before he managed to blink back the tears.

A man hurried past him, carrying a briefcase. At an auto repair shop across the way, a mechanic pumped air into a tire. This is what I'll have to do. He wouldn't be playing Quidditch or casting spells or riding Hippogriffs. It was like being put back in the cupboard again.

Why was he always the one who had to lose things? Draco, Ron, and Hermione - they all had their magic. A surge of jealousy flared up in him. He would have to watch them cast spells every day, burning with the knowledge that he had lost the ability forever. How could he stand that? It would make him as bitter and resentful as Filch.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Hermione was balancing two bags of groceries in her arms when she saw Harry sitting on the steps. "Hi," he said, looking up at her briefly, then back at the ground.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Harry muttered.

Hermione sighed. "You're not 'fine,' Harry. Now come on up."

She got them both a hot drink and sat down across from Harry. She decided to opt for a brisk, professional tone. "Have you been feeling nauseous or dizzy, Harry?"

"No." Harry stared at the table.

"That means your system has adjusted to the new levels of magic," Hermione said.

"There is no magic!" Harry pushed back violently from the table and stood up. "Now go ahead and give me your little line about how no matter what you'll always stick with me."

"It's true," Hermione said quietly.

"And did you ever stop to think about how I feel?" Harry began pacing the length of the kitchen. "Do you think I wanted you to come along with me all those times in Hogwarts? You almost died, Hermione, and it would have been my fault! And now - all you'll do is try to make me feel better and treat me like I'm made of glass and never do magic in front of me! But when I'm not there you'll go back to casting spells and making potions, and I'll know you're doing it the whole time!"

"If you didn't want us with you, Harry," Hermione said, "why were you the one sitting on my doorstep?"

"Because - !" Harry stopped and sat back down. "Because you are my friend, Hermione, but I don't know what's going to happen now. We're not a trio anymore," he continued. "We used to be equals, Hermione, and now we're not."

"We are, Harry! We'll always be!" Hermione reached out for his hand, but Harry withdrew it.

"What am I supposed to do, Hermione?" he whispered.

"You just have to do your best, Harry. Try to carry on as best you can. I know it will be difficult -"

"Impossible. No matter which world I live in, I'll always remember what I've lost."

Hermione reached out for his hand again and held it gently. "Do you remember what I said to you, Harry? Before you went after the Philosopher's Stone?"

"That there were more important things than being good at spells," Harry answered slowly.

"Yes. Things like friendship and love. You haven't lost those, Harry. You never will."

v.v.v.v.v.v.

The shipment was coming in the next night. Draco had been pacing nervously all afternoon, once more tormenting himself with all the things that could go wrong. Ron was going to pick up Greg and then Draco would meet them a half mile from the docks.

He looked over at Harry, who was sitting on the couch, half asleep. Harry had hardly slept at all these past few days, alternating between angry, resigned, and depressed.

Draco sat down next to him, and Harry's eyes opened. "Sorry," Draco murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"That's okay." Harry sighed and leaned into Draco's arms. They sat in a companionable silence, watching the sunbeams shift slowly across the floor.

"You know how I promised?" Harry said after awhile. "That I would never leave?"

Draco nodded.

"I still mean that. I thought maybe you were worried, now that I can't," Harry paused, then finished quickly, "do magic. That maybe I might leave. But I won't. I wanted you to be sure of that - just in case."

Draco held him close. "The same goes for me," he said softly.