Clandestine Whispers

Clandestine Wishes Chronicle Two

By C.S. Bolte/The Ultimate Otaku

PART FOUR: In-between Flame and Ice

>>>>>13 The Plan: conversations about it

Hermione smiled, neatly folded up the apology paper signed by both Ron and Harry, and went out to eat breakfast. In the Great Hall, she sat down in between Ron and Harry, glancing over at Ginny. The little redhead looked alright, although her infrequent smiles were bland, but otherwise, she acted normal. Hermione wondered, absently, why Ginny had cared that Draco...was gone. But then, mentally berating herself, she thought Of course Ginny's sad; he's...gone. Gin's not that heartless, she never really hated Draco...she never knew him well enough to really hate him, though I know she certainly disliked him. But when someone leaves forever, I guess one can't help but...grieve. Even if that person wasn't even a friend. But to me he...he was...Choking back sobs, she momentarily rested her head on her arms, furiously blinking back tears, and sniffing. Then, quickly regaining her composure, she sat back up, acting as if nothing had happened; she had lost her appetite, however.

~~*~~

"When will he awaken, Darkel?"

"Soon, Lucius, very soon. But be wary of him; he may be your son, but with the Anhelo-Creperum potion running through his blood, all of his senses will be extra sharp, as well as his emotions. He may become out of control after the first half hour or so, but eventually he will calm down..."

"...until he senses the Potter boy's 'key,' right?"

"Exactly. And don't ask any more questions, Lucius. Usually you are more controlling of yourself. All the answers will arrive, in time. We must only wait for the Key's reaction...and the girl. The girl will be Potter's guide here. Wormtail, of course, will help them."

The laughter of the two dark-eyed men boomed around the spherical chamber, echoing against the walls.

~~*~~

The well stood, plain and grey, somehow out of place in the grove of green yet unhappy looking trees, standing in between two crumbling, ancient, yet beauteous walls. These walls had once formed a fortress, a beauteous and dark fortress; the walls, now falling apart, were still beateous, yet now, fragile. They glowed an eerie silver, mixed with gray, many colorful yet tiny bits of minerals and crystal and other things making the surface shimmer when the tiniest ray of light blazed past the dark branches of the Forbidden Forest.

A deer, peering curiously at it's new found discovery, stared with a wide, dark gaze at the well. It slowly approached, sniffing warily, hooves crunching against the gravel that was all that remained of the fortress floor. Oblivious the danger emanating from the well it approached, the deer approached ever closer towards the well, animal stupidity reflected in its eyes. Suddenly, ears flipping upwards, it bolted in fear, quicker than a flash (a flash of what; who knows).

A silver hand crept its way out the wall, joined by the body of a fat, short little man, who was easing himself up in the bucket from the well by tugging vigorously at the frayed rope. Sniggering quietly to himself, Wormtail quickly skittered into the forest, going towards Hogwarts.

~~*~~

"Draco..."

Draco whipped his head around, trying to find out where the voice was coming from. No one. There was no one. A while back, the cage he'd been surrounded by had disappeared, and he had been deposited once more at the place with ancient, fragile buildings to his left and right, the solid, complexedly weaved fence barring his path in front of him, and the darkness behind him.

It was, of course, snowing. He had decided to stay firmly positioned, standing where he was since the the cage he'd been in before had suddenly disappeared on him and rudely dumped him to land, sprawled, back here again. But he had been standing so long he'd gotten sick of it and decided to sit.

Now, he stood up, searching for the source of the sound. Suddenly, he heard the voice again, this time, so loud that it seemed to be from his brain.

"DRACO"

"DRACO"

"DRACO!"

With a jerk of his head, Draco quickly snapped his eyes open, to find himself staring up into the face of the grizzly Fillspyn Darkel whom he loathed. The man's eyes twinkled, a sharp yellow color, eyes small like a hawk's. Draco felt the urge to spit in the man's face; he hated when people gave him haughty looks, smirking as if they were superior; that was his job!

Draco quickly shoved his foot in an attempt to trip the grizzly bear; Darkel had already jumped aside not a moment too soon. Now sitting slumped against the wall across the room, he leered at Draco from a distance, shoulders hunched over in what Draco supposed was a mockery of relaxation. Suddenly feeling a jolt of pain shoot from his head southwards down his nerves, Draco, eyes shut tightly, threw his head back, only to bang it against the wall. Hissing, he reached up to touch the spot, wondering if it was bleeding. However, his reach was nothing more but a vain attempt; realizing his wrist was firmly locked, immobile, Draco glanced around, at his wrist, his body, his surroundings.

He and Darkel were in a tall, sphere shaped chamber, empty other than it's two occupants. The walls were made of a very solid, turqouise stone, which had the same exact texture as marble; Draco would have thought it was marble if he hadn't seen the squiggly little backwards-s shaped grooves that ran up and down the walls. Draco's was handcuffed by the same material the walls were made out of; these cuffs were connected to rusty chains --portruding from the wall he leant against--which, when stretched taught, were one foot and three inches long.

Feeling the burning sensation on his wrist where the metal cuffs bit into his skin, and his head now throbbing violently, Draco yanked against the cuffs, hard, cursing when it resulted in no more than Darkel's laughter, and his wrists beginning to bleed. Shooting a venomous glare at his Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Draco let loose a barrage of colorful swear words, intricately weaved with many painful, violent, and profanic implications. Darkel raised an eyebrow; "I didn't know a broomstick could do that, young Malfoy."

Draco, leaning back, slowly, against the wall winced when his head came in contact with it. "That's because you wouldn't know the difference between a game of Quidditch and a session of busy fu-"

"no need to present more lovely imagery to my mind, Malfoy Junior," snapped Darkel irritatedly. Draco smiled, saying in a sweet voice lathered in sarcasm, "Why thank you for your compliments, Professor Darkel. I'm flattered."

"Flattered by the fact that you happen to look slightly better than a rat with it's head stuck up it's anus."

"A rat that happens to be currently presiding in your gut, Darkel. I'm surprised the poor rat managed to be choked down by a guy who wouldn't know the difference between a condom and a thimble--a thimble would suit you better."

"Said by a boy who wouldn't know the difference between a rat and his own reflection."

"A rude obnoxious comment said by a liar who wouldn't recognize his own reflection if it smacked him. And all because he was gullible enough to believe his wife when she said that he looked fine every day, when actually the only thing repressing people's urge to gag upon seeing the ugliness of this horrendous gargoyle was their satisfaction in laughing at his lack of brains. Spare me, Darkel, you are depriving some poor village of it's idiot."

"You must have accidentally went into the line for mutilated sense of humor and ability to make everyone hate him instead of the line for normalcy and brains. Don't you have an empty feeling right now...in your skull? Don't get smart with me, Malfoy."

"Am I getting smart with you? How would you know? At least I didn't lose enough common sense to let myself be hired by a Muggle-loving twit like Dumbledore."

"One of my fondest memories was yesterday, you know. I thought of you all day...I was at the zoo."

"Oh shut your trap, Darkel. Go have a nice day...somewhere else! You're an ugly, foolish, wimpy, disgraced, helpless, poor son of a bitch who couldn't wave a wand if a Squib paper danced naked on his nose."

"Okay, Malfoy, that wasn't even a defensive reply to my last insult to you; now you're actually trying to annoy me," said Darkel grouchily.

Draco grinned, saying superiorly, "Who said I wasn't trying to annoy you all along? And behold my success."

Darkel was about to spit a retort, when a stone of the floor moved aside, and Lucius Malfoy climbed into the chamber, closing the 'trapdoor' behind him. Dusting off his hands, he shot a glare at his friend, saying, "Have you been talking to yourself, Darkel? I've been hearing your trollish voice echoing boomingly off these walls for what seems like eternity. Can't you shut up and give a man some time to pore over books of dark art lore?"

Darkel seethed, and pointed to Draco, muttering, "I was talking to him. Didn't know his voice was so quiet; hasn't gone through puberty quite yet, eh?" Draco shot a glare at Darkel, mouthing to him, "troll voice, troll voice, booger eater." He snapped his mouth shut, however, when he saw his father was about to turn towards him. Lucius turned around; surprise momentarily flickered in his dark gaze as he glanced at his son, then, his voice once again assuming it's normal neutrality, he said to Darkel, "Have you noticed any obvious change in his demeanor? Such as a heightening of the emotions, as you earlier described?" Darkel glared, noticing the way Draco stuck his tongue out, eyes twinkling, and mouthed an "I win" at him from behind Lucius's back.

"Other than obnoxious insults and a sharp tongue that he'd better keep tied up from now on, no, Lucius. But I assure you, once Wormtail has the gullible Potter, the girl, and whatever foolish kids decide to follow them in the Forbidden Forest, your son will begin to react. That is Part A of The Plan. Once Wormtail has them through the well and on their way here, it will be up to the girl and Potter from then until they actually arrive here. Then, it is up to us to make sure Part B goes the way it should."

Lucius nodded, and placing a small, dark, thick book at Draco's feet, barked, "read this while you're waiting, and keep that mouth of yours shut tight," before reopening the trapdoor and leaving the chamber.

Draco wondered what it was he was supposed to be waiting for. Shrugging, he picked up the book, noting the title So you want to be a Dark Lord?, before beginning to read.