The Shadows of His Past

In a second she was facing him, her wand pointed dead-on his forehead, and a wild look in her eyes. Recognizing him with unseeing eyes, she turned abruptly pushing the letter quickly into the candle. "Severus! You surprised me..."

He watched as the flames ran across the edges consuming the parchment and leaving the charred ashes in her hand. Not before he could see- he could read-

"Evaline Dolohov." There was a hidden query enwrapped in the guise of a statement.

"Of the Dolohov's betrayed by Karkaroff." It wasn't a question.

"I was his wife." She lowered her eyes. "And Karkaroff played no role his capture."

"Then how...?"

"I betrayed him." She faced Snape full in the face. "What he was doing- it was so wrong, so evil..." Snape's mouth puckered into a snarl. He grabbed her violently by the wrists and held their pale frailty in a vise-like grasp. Again returned that look, the deadened trapped look. It was an expression of utter hopelessness. He tightened his grip on wrists and silently watched as tears surged past her eyelids. "Severus..."

"You're lying."

Thrashing about violently, she snarled, "You don't know-"

He shook her. "But I do. Don't lie to me." He snapped, "Stop crying." Suddenly, she felt intimidated. His voice was in a deadened whisper and the coldness chilled her like ice slipping down her back.

Silence.

Suddenly, she burst out, speaking so her words tripped over themselves in haste, "I think Voldemort knew the whole time- and- and, so I- to avoid suspicion- I rose quickly through those ranks which I had so despised. I'm sure of it- Voldemort knew the whole time, but he knew that even if I didn't believe in his lies that- that, well, I would follow him forever just to stay alive... Perhaps that made me the most loyal be-because I was the most afraid." Snape affected a guarded expression.

Evaline continued, "Lucius knew what I had done- oh Antonin- and he made quick use of it. Oh Antonin- God, I'm sorry." He could hear her weakening. He could feel her shoulders trembling. He could feel his own heart beating frantically.

Severus wrapped her small frame tightly in his arms. "Lucius is long dead-"

She suddenly laughed, "He will take that knowledge with him to his grave."

"I see... but you threw in your lot with Voldemort."

"So did you."

I had what I thought were the best reasons. Now- He paid his debt to Potter's parents and already the malevolent forces surrounded him. Potter was a dead man. Did it matter if he died a year later? Because prolonging the inevitable was only a perverse form of self-denial. Snape had made enough excuses.

"Your not out of the dark yet- that's your blindness. A little light? You think that's hope? You know what it is? It's me going through a cemetery down a well-trod path. Your not out of the dark yet, Severus. You never will be until you reach your final home six feet under." She tapped her foot against the cold, stone floor and waited. Walk back into the dark, embrace it before it smothers you.

He kissed her.

****

Somewhere, summoned from the depths of mind, he remembered an old man with half-moon spectacles. Or have I dreamed him up, too? And a nurse? I woman who took care of him, who fed him, so much like the woman at the hospital he went to, after he mowed down old lady Figg with his racing bike.

..."Watch where you're going, you old bat!" he sneered at Mrs. Figg, who was shaking her angry fist.

"You get back here, you overfed hooligan!" But he merely stuck his middle finger out at her and pedaled faster. Was there a gap in the sidewalk that threw him off balance? A loose rock? Whatever it was, the next thing he knew, he was launched off his bike and a kindly nurse was sponging his tender forehead in a setting of complete comfort...

He fidgeted in his bed and smelled the sharp sterile-ness in the atmosphere. Dudley was trained in sniffing out foods and other odors so he would know when to steal lunch off some kid, but there was a new smell which was distinctly alien. It was the smell of the atmosphere after Dudley had somehow turned his teacher's wig blue, despite that his mother maintained it was Harry's doing. It was the strange prickling of magic. His eyes roamed uneasily over his unfamiliar surroundings, what was that next to his bed? He gulped. It was a cauldron, which was boiling some strange decoction without a source of heat. "What the-?"

The kind woman bustled in, with her hair in curling papers. "Now, now...Dudley, right? You may call me Madam Pomfrey." She pat him absently on the head in a way that enraged Dudley. "Now, dear, what seems to be the problem?" She pulled out a feather and a notepad.

Dudley's small eyes squinted, and his brow was furrowed. "I had a dream. Lord Vol-Voldmort- Voldemort... whatever, what's-his-name's in a cave- I think it's underground, with these creepy looking people- one of them was kinda fat and there was something queer about him...I don't know... and woman, in dresses- both of them were, I mean, and there was this dark-haired girl, and a- a thing with pointy ears and... a tea cozy?- anyway the man- I think he was the leader, yeah he was really odd and he had this army of dog-things said a strange thing like, 'Lord Voldemort is a hunter who always gets his quarry...'- I'm telling you- that guy was weird. Anyway, that's what he said to Harry-"

Dudley's ears perked up at the mentioning of Harry's father. His parents, too, had forbidden any mentioning of Harry's parents and he was quite keen to learn about them, but to his disappointment she mentioned them no further. He feared to interrupt her- she was looking venomous and worried. "Regrowing bones, Quidditch injuries, giant snakes..." He glanced at the quill, which was still writing as though by an unseen hand.

"Incendio," she snapped to the fireplace, although why she had a fireplace at all in hospital mystified Dudley, and took something like a coffee carafe of the mantle. Pouring what looked like sparkly green sand into her hand, she threw it into the fire and spoke to the now green flames, calmly, as though she was on the telephone, "Headmaster Dumbledore, come quickly." She paused. "Bring the pensieve and ask the Order to apparate at the Shrieking Shack immediately- then go to the my wing. The Hounds have got his scent." This was, of course, utter nonsense to Dudley- was that an old man's disembodied head in fire? Some sort of ritual sacrifice? He felt faint.

Dudley cringed in his bed; she was surely a madwoman. Seeing that he was still awake, the nurse took a handful of a different kind of sand and flung it carelessly at him. Sand would do horrors to his sensitive skin, but that mattered little as he suddenly had the irresistible urge to...yawn.

****

-

Dobby wanted to see the look on Harry Potter's face when he saw his wonderful cloak. But it never entered the poor creature's head to leave the cloak and not interrupt Harry on what would obviously be an embarrassing moment. Nor did it enter Dobby's head to wait for Harry until he returned or to wait until the next day. Even if it had, his little stubborn spirit would not have listened. So Dobby ran quickly, seeking Harry, but what awaited him was far more than a hormone dilemma between two teens.

****

Remus Lupin alighted on the roof of the Astronomy Tower. He slung his broomstick over his shoulder and made his way down to the Hospital Wing to where Dumbledore anxiously awaited him.

He pulled a beaten-up quill from out of his pocket and searched his other pocket for a piece of parchment. Finding none, he looked around quickly and spied a piece fluttering a couple feet away from a nearby statue. On it he wrote the words:

Sirius,

Forecast: The storm has arrived.

-

He would send it after he met up with Dumbledore.

****

Dudley awoke to the sound of arguing voices. "...once Harry's been targeted there's no saving him..."

"Expecto patronum?"

"No, Remus, that wont work. Not against more than one. Harry's not strong enough to-"

They all stopped. A short little man with a beard to rival the old man with the half-moon spectacles', had entered and he too appeared to be in a state of great agitation. "Headmaster - Professor...Dumbledore." He sighed, "Severus is nowhere to be seen."

Remus growled, "He has betrayed us all."

Dumbledore sank down into an empty hospital cot and covered his face with his aged hands.

McGonagall burst in, "Harry's gone!"

Severus, what have you done?

"I've brought the boy," Snape whispered, jerking his head to where Harry was chained. She did not respond, but merely reached out a shaking hand, her red painted nails caressing his pale face.

"Evaline..."

The lines of her countenance were haunting and stark. She was drawing him in again, spinning her spell with no witchery at all. Severus bent forward and kissed her waiting lips. He had made his decision. She stiffened and froze in his arms as he slowly withdrew a bloody knife from her back. He walked away. And so Severus Snape lost the second love of his life to Voldemort.

Snape rather shakily approached Harry. "You will need-" His face had turned several tints

Harry was exasperated and struggled to keep his voice under control and under 10 decibels. He failed, but this can be excused when he was frustrated and facing almost inevitable death. "Why don't you get it for me? I'm in a bit of an awkward position right now, what with my arms chained and all..." Snape hastily cast an unlocking spell on the magical chains that bound Harry.

"You will not take that tone with me, Potter-"

"Sorry. I just get stressed when I'm in mortal peril and someone can't seem do to anything about it."

Snape took a deep, shuddering breath, "Do not let your mother have died in vain. She was a wonderful person..." his voice died away. "Take your wand. Be on awares. I will return shortly with the Order-"

"Can't you take me with you?"

"Can you apparate, Potter? I didn't think so." And with a pop, Harry's last connection to the wizard world was gone.

What exactly am I up against over here? He remembered the article. The photos. Oh, shit.

It is the only thing that can save you now. He reached into his pocket for the protection of his wand. Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing.

He was helpless. He was alone. It is the only thing that can save you now. Knowing that his efforts were fruitless, he concentrated every fiber of his being on that object- whatever it was, willing it, propelling it to him. Nothing happened. And he was exhausted.

This was not the first time that Harry cursed his impatience. With a cry of frustration, he kicked at the chains and they came to life, binding him anew.

Dobby will be in so much trouble, if Professor Dumbledore knew. Dobby will have to iron his ears and shut his hands in the oven door. Then Dobby will iron his hands and shut his ears in the oven door. Dobby doesn't not even know where Harry Potter is, not that Dobby would have been able to recognize him in the darkness.

Ouch. Bad Dobby deserved to stub his foot. He looked down. What is this? He picked it up. Oh, lucky Dobby! It was an old discarded torch. Thankful small favors, the House-Elf lit the torch with a snap of his fingers. Being careful to make no noise, he wandered around the labyrinthine tunnels with no hope of finding his way out- only the hope of finding Harry.

His feet raised small clouds of dust in a steady padding rhythm. The torch was heavy and the surrounding dust had probably ruined the cloak, but Dobby was more intent on finding Harry Potter.

An echoing moan. Without a moment's hesitation. Dobby sped off it's direction, despite the confusing retorts of the echoing cave walls.

He spied a distant glimmering light- like a path illumed that led him to Harry and a broken promise.

****

"Stupefy."

Severus Snape collapsed on the boundaries of the Hogwarts grounds. "Traitor."

****

"Harry Potter?"

Harry quickly snapped out of his state of lifelessness, the bottomless exhaustion that came only with physical and mental strain. The voice was unmistakable.

"Dobby?" Through the obscurity of the dimly lighted cave, a figure entered casting a distinctly unique shape. Dobby appeared bearing a torch that cast off such infinite beauty and purity that Harry felt a sense of calm and determination settle upon him like a pall of wakefulness.

"Oh, it is Harry Potter!" Dobby looked exultant and slightly sinister in the blinding torchlight, "Dobby will save you!" He snapped his fingers again. The chains fell on the floor with a dull clang. Immediately giving wide berth between himself and the chains, Harry sprang forward and hugged Dobby, bringing tears to the young elf's eyes. "Harry Potter is not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Dobby promised never to save Harry Potter's life again."

"I'll let it pass this time. Next time you wont be so lucky." Harry grinned down at Dobby and gave theHouse-Elf a friendly pat on the head. Dobby's bulbous eyes saw that Harry was joking and the little elf gave an ear-to-ear smile at his hero.

A distant crash.

"Dobby wishes he could take Harry with him back to Hogwarts."

Harry froze. "You mean... you can't?"

"'Tis part of a House-Elf's enslavement, sir. Cannot do magic for or against a human unless specifically allowed by Professor Dumbledore." With each word Dobby nodded vigorously.

"Can't you break it just this once? I'm sure Dumbledore won't be mad if you bring me back alive..."

Dobby shook his head vigorously. "It is not a rule that can be broken. No, it's not rule that can be broken. No- no." Harry sighed. He cupped his hands full of rocks that littered the ground, "Like the rule that makes these rocks fall to the ground-" He dropped them, so that they clattered again to the floor, "It's like that. It cannot be broken- no, it can't." Dobby looked at Harry seriously. "Harry Potter must beware. Dobby hears: Mars is bright tonight."

Harry immediately became interested. "Lucky, for dark nights are always unpleasant?" The House-Elf looked confused.

"Dobby is sorry that he doesn't understand, Harry Potter." Dobby's voice was echoing repeatedly in the close confines of the tunnels. His clearly pronounced words were mangled until they were scarcely discernable. "Dobby wishes that Dobby could save Harry Potter's life again. Even if it meant that Harry Potter would be angry. Because Harry Potter will always be Dobby's hero..." And then... all Harry could hear was echoes. Echoes that surrounded him. Echoes that smothered his words. Until when Harry stopped calling Dobby's name, all was silence.

****

"A tea cozy?!" Dumbledore cried.

****

Harry became increasingly agitated. Each second felt like an eternity. Each minute was a moment longer away from a slender glimmer of light- of life. His shallow hope.

He prayed for luck. And his prayers were almost immediately answered by the friendly force that seemed bent on keeping Harry alive. A light shone with rejuvenating intensity in the distance. "Dobby?"

Harry had entered a cavern, still calling Dobby's name. The mist that hung about the scattered rocks and boulders like an seemed almost artificial in the faint light. He slowly stepped into the silent, shadowed unknown. His foot struck something solid.

"Wha-" he uttered in surprise, but he heard nothing. "Anyone out there?" Silence. Harry's voice took on a pleading sound, "Hello?"
A low cry that seemed to pervade from the entire place, called his name. "Hello?" Another cry. Shattered silence. Was that Moody's voice? He will kill you. Harry once more stepped forward. His foot struck something again.

"Wha-" he bent forward, but everything was swallowed by the ensnaring darkness. It lured him forward. Another moan. Another step. He will kill you.

Then he heard Cedric's voice. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" And Harry looked down. Two wide, glassy eyes stared at him- his face permanently frozen into and expression of surprise. It's all my fault. I told him to take the trophy.

Harry didn't move.

"Harry Potter..." I told him to take the trophy. Two red eyes gleamed in the night. I told him to take the trophy. Pale, faintly glowing hands, bearing a wand, emerged in the darkness.

Harry recalled that he had left his new wand in his dormitory. He looked up. Voldemort was watching him, twirling Harry's old wand between his long fingers.

Harry looked desperate.

"A couple of years ago, Harry- if you remember, this wand gave me a bit of trouble. I won't let it happen again." Taking an end in each of his hands, he broke the wand neatly in two splintered halves. He smiled as he threw them away carelessly and letting them clatter away into the

It was déjà vu. The force of the memory nearly knocked him down. Several years ago such were the roles between Harry and Tom Riddle. Now, a couple of years later, Harry stood against a fifty year older Voldemort. It was strange really, almost ironic, how magic worked.

Yet, it was an uncanny semblance that left Harry in despondency. Two unlikely weapons came to his aid in that hopeless situation, those years past. Who will help me now? Under his robes, Harry crossed his fingers. Stall him.

"What ever happened- the diary...?"

Voldemort smiled. With long slender fingers he pulled his robes askew on his shoulders baring a deep, scarred gash above his heart. "Basilisk venom. Very lethal- but I'm sure you know that."

"How...?"

"I have my sources. But this-" he pointed to the scar, "Well- I am Tom Riddle."

Harry suddenly understood. Ah, Peter Pettigrew.

"Professor Evaline?"

"More than eager to deliver you into my hands. Lord Voldemort can be very persuasive."

"You threatened to kill her, didn't you? Well, what about Snape?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice unconcerned and surprised, "How did you get him to turn me in?"

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. You'll find that the alternate options are few."

Harry had run out of questions. "I suppose you can kill me now," he said in a last attempt at bravado.

"Oh, Harry were would the fun in that be?" Voldemort paused, "I recant that statement. Instead I say, I intend to have more fun by making you suffer."

"How?" Harry asked with morbid curiosity. If I'm going to die, I might as well know how. Voldemort smiled. The baying of a hound resounded in Echo's cryptic replies. "I see. So you're not taking any chances?"

"As much as I would love the joy of killing you." Voldemort spread his hands out in a helpless gesture. "There is too much about you, yet undiscovered- unknown. A fatal error on my part would be detrimental to my campaign. There will be no errors. To err is human. But what of a beast of the supernatural?" again returned that horrible smile. Another sinister echo.

Harry shivered. Each distant baying was like the note of an organ at his funeral. He had never before felt that twinge. That tug of cowardice. That wish to curl up in a fetal position and abandon all semblance at pride.

"Harry, they're coming. Do you hear the fall of their tireless paws?" Voldemort laughed and pointed his wand decidedly at the sky, "Mosmordre!" The Dark Mark blossomed like the inflation of a grotesque balloon. Voldemort disappeared into the darkness and all that could be seen was an abnormally long finger pointing to a stone nearby Harry. Harry attention focused on it. The words, 'In memory of Cedric Diggory' emerged as though an invisible rock and chisel was engraving the words into the stone. 'The real Hogwarts champion.' At the irony of this, Harry would have laughed- if he was one of the stupid sort who meant it when they said they laughed in the face of danger. Instead, he allowed an unforgivable moment of weakness.

He was crying. Crying because Cedric didn't deserve to die. Crying because all those people who expected so much of him- all those people who truly believed in him were wrong, and once more Lucius Malfoy had another reason to give a post-mortem sneer. Most of all, he was crying because his parent's sacrifice had indeed bought him all those years of what was inevitably borrowed time. Borrowed time for a price too costly. He was going to see them soon. The thought cheered him little.

The padding rhythm of their heavy paws created a tremor in the ground and in Harry. Each tremor brought them closer. He was unprepared. He was wand-less. He was friend-less. He was helpless. The resentful tears still fell.

Through a nearby group of rocks he saw the first dog appear. It was a sinister apparition, so reminiscent of the Grim, with the deadly hooks for claws and the teeth that were sharp enough to- Best not think about that. However, try as he might, every aspect of the hound was fearsome. Its howl was shattering to the stillness of the night and the dismal echoes of its encroaching fellows sent a chill throughout Harry. It bounded ever closer with each earth-shattering leap. It stopped; two white filmy looking eyes, stared blandly at Harry, and the nose- each nostril flared and snorted inhaling his scent, issuing a tiny jet of steam- was so close that Harry could feel it's heat and could see the faint misting in his glasses.

He slinked back, hoping that the sudden move wouldn't catch the dog's attention. He let out a sigh. The head abruptly snapped in his direction, and the dog slowly approached. Harry took another leap away, knowing that even in the dense fog his movement would be obvious. But hopes of survival had diminished with the entrance of the hound. All he wanted was to prolong this game of hound and quarry. The dog didn't turn. He waved his hand in a foolhardy gesture. The dog still didn't move. It was blind.

And therein lay his only hope for survival.

"Harry Potter!" All of the heads of the Hounds simultaneously snapped in the direction of Dobby's voice, so far off and slowly changing from agitation to mocking echoes. Harry. Harry...Harry...

It's all my fault. A flash of green. And all was darkness.

****

Sirius entered Hogwarts, Snape in tow behind him. "I've got the bloody traitor."

****

"Oh, dear. Oh, oh, oh, oh dear." Hermione wrung her hands together nervously, "What am I going to do?" She grabbed Draco by the collar and whined in his ear, "What are we going to do? I'm quite sure we're not supposed to be here. We're definitely not the school grounds. Oh, oh, oh oh-"

"Hermione?" Draco asked, speaking over Hermione's nervous chatter. She nodded. "Shut up." Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her neck, pulling her close to him.

"Draco! This is hardly the time-" With her in a tight embrace, he led her out of the dark room and past Professor Evaline's dead body. Better that she didn't see. They were out of the room and Draco loosened his grip on her neck.

Hermione immediately opened her mouth, "Well I should say-!" Draco reached out and put his hand over her mouth.

"No, you shouldn't. Don't say anything." He paused and felt a tremor go through his body as his pulse quickened, "Did you hear that?"

For the first time that night, Hermione was silent. In the distance, clearly heard, was the baying of hounds. They shared a glance and saw each other's expressions on their faces. Draco involuntarily shivered and took a step forward.

"Cold?" Hermione whispered, her hand reaching out for his.

"No. I felt..." Draco's eyes focused on a flash of green in front of him. Deep inside of him, it struck a chord and he automatically felt fearful. "It was a goose walking over my grave, I guess," he said, attempting a smirk.

Hermione attempted and failed at an encouraging smile. Quickly, but silently, wands out, they made their way closer and closer to the sound.

****

Remus flipped over his unsent letter for Sirius.

****

Even in his agitated state, Draco couldn't fail to recognize the gleam of tears on Harry's face. He suppressed a smile of triumph. "They're not attacking."

Hermione hissed in response, "What d'you think they're there for? Decoration?"

Draco scowled and nudged her. "Look! I can't believe it-" He could barely restrain a gasp, "Dobby?"

Hermione saw the House-Elf emerge behind Voldemort, wearing Ron's maroon sweater. She had to admit that it looked better on Dobby than it would have on Ron. Draco, however, was thinking along different lines- Dobby was carrying a cloak and-

"We have to get out there tell him! Tell him what that thing can do!"

Draco took a deep breath. "I..." He wasn't ready to do what Hermione had so incorrectly assumed. His loyalties were thus far divided. He was a traitor to everyone. To declare that he was loyal to Dumbledore's cause to Hermione was all fine and good, but when Voldemort lurked so near- He could be exposed in a lie -what were all of those years that his father had dictated his beliefs? "I'll wait-" He remembered his father, dead, with his first and last smile frozen on his face-

And he might be forced to face the consequences.

Hermione didn't listen and bounded forward, tripping over a jagged group of rocks. He heard the sickening crack. His stomach plummeted.

More barking in the resounded and made his pulse quicken and his ears throb. In the distant confines of the cave, the barking ricocheted and reverberated in circles until it was increased twofold. He eyes were locked on the Hound which slipped in and out of the darkness as though it was a shadow. He would have thought it a shadow, too, if not for the faint tremor that shook the earth with each leap.

It was so painful. Tears rolled down Hermione's face in the most reckless fashion, forming a dew-laden web across her countenance. She caught the stubborn pearls in her hand and wiped them, unwanted, away with her hand. I don't want Draco to see me cry. Hermione struggled against her twisted, broken...? at any rate useless leg. "You stupid prat!" she hissed angrily to Malfoy pointing to a shadow that could only be Voldemort. "Take the torch and kill him!"

She watched as Voldemort lazily glided in her direction, wand outstretched. Draco watched with a practiced eye, noting that in her frenzy, her wand movements were undisciplined and wide, taking more space and time at they ought ever to have done. It was now or never.

A pale hand darted out of the darkness and grabbed the green torch out of the House-Elf's hand. Draco cursed in pain as his fingers involuntarily curled into a fist. The torch burned. It was a scalding, yet icy-cold feeling that destroyed all feeling within his fingers. He looked at his hands- the flesh was eaten away and exposed raw, vulnerable muscle. He looked up at Hermione; in that moment of danger she knew. He was a Death Eater. He had not gone back on his vows. He was sworn. He was loyal. In fact, the only person he had betrayed was she. "Love keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth." 'Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, and vice sometime by action dignified.' What shit. Shakespeare, another damn idealist. She made a mental note to burn all of her novels.

"Harry!" Hermione called, stumbling into the mist.

"Hermione?" He shook her voice out of his head. "Dobby, give me the cloak!" Harry screamed as the hounds bounded closer and closer, inhaling Harry's scent in the night air and finding him quickly despite the dense fog.

Dobby looked at Harry, his bulbous eyes filling with unspilt tears, "Dobby will be brave for Harry Potter," he said resolutely and took a leap at the Hounds, brandishing Harry's cloak and leading them away from the Boy-Who-Lived. "Harry Potter must run!"

Harry grabbed the torch from the floor beside Draco. In a blinding flash of green that spread from his fingertips into the torch like an electric current, Harry felt himself rejuvenated. Draco crumpled to the floor and felt himself on a sieve as all the malevolence in him was eaten away. He knew after that there'd be nothing left.

Harry looked around and saw the Hounds dissolve away. He turned to Voldemort. Voldemort was frozen, but the light was weakening and the nearly invisible outline of the Hounds was solidifying as the light ebbed smaller and smaller in a concentrated circle around Harry. Time was quickly running out.

Voldemort's face was slowly curling into a smile as he gradually regained the use of his body. Hermione hurled a misdirected hex at Voldemort and her useless leg crumpled beneath her. She fell to the floor and Harry knew that the absence of her whimpers meant that she had fainted.

Harry stiffened. He felt through the soles of his own feet, the pounding of paws on the cold stones of the cavern. A Hound was returning, and the light was ever dimming.

Harry barely had time to register a big, black dog and the red eyes that emanated malevolence and- relief. He called, "Si-! " but it was abruptly cut off by a booming bark, that was nonetheless of a different pitch and timbre.

Seeing Voldemort moving stiffly, Sirius skidded in an abrupt U-turn and bounded in his direction. With a shocked cry of, "The Hound!" Voldemort Dissaparated, as Sirius fell to empty air. Sirius had bounded on nothing but air. He quickly turned himself back into a human and ran directly to Hermione and Harry. A whispered charm, and Hermione felt the sensation of invisible strings attaching to her limbs.

"Follow me!" he ordered.

"Harry, you've got to-" she screamed as Sirius bounded away, she gliding behind him, helpless.

Harry was irresolute.

Draco scowled at him, his expression still arrogant, despite his pain. Damned if he let Harry see him weak. "Leave me alone Potter!" Harry prepared to move on, but a nagging voice reminiscent of Hermione tugged him back to his weakening enemy.

"Suit yourself, Malfoy," Harry spat, feigning indifference, "You're digging your own grave."

Draco answered levelly, "I dug that grave the moment I was born a Malfoy."

"No, you did the moment you supported Vol-"

"Harry! Don't leave him!" Hermione called again, but Harry, too, had vanished into the darkness, and both boys were well out of earshot.

"Run away with your little friend, Mudblood!" He whispered, "Hermione, I won't change for you." His voice echoed in the now empty cavern. "Never." He embraced a part of him that had been repressed these past months. And relished in it. Really, I love being evil. The pain surging inside him increased twofold.

"Quit being so overdramatic, Malfoy," Harry snapped giving him a rather rough kick in the ribs. I always wanted to do that. "You know you deserved that." Using Draco's wand, Harry spat a healing charm at Malfoy. "You're free. Now get lost. For Hermione's sake."

"Your hero's complex wouldn't let me-"

"To hell with that. It was my goddamn conscience."

"You can tell yourself that. I think its your fucking hero's com-"

"Think whatever you want. Even Hermione didn't want to save your sorry ass."

Draco leaned against the wall of the corridor, his heart slamming against his ribcage almost in an effort to break free. He ran a hand through his pale hair and winced as his head began to throb, an array of thoughts scurrying through his mind before coming to a dead halt.