Can't Stop the Poison

Can't Stop the Poison

Chapter Five - What the Devil Wants

By Xenoia Karris

"Ten thousand souls was the opening bid

But it soon went up to fifty-nine

But the Lord didn't see what the Devil did

And he said 'that suits me fine'

I'll raise you high to a hundred and five

And forever put an end to your sins

But the Devil let out a mighty shout, 'My hands wins!'" ---Chris De Burgh, Spanish Train

Hermione sat in the common room, the warmth of the fire reaching out to her, making her sleepy. She was gazing avidly at the dancing flames. For a long while, she and Seamus lay in each other's arms in silence, savouring the moments they had almost lost. The time turner was still tucked neatly in her hand as she lay. Though she looked peaceful, her mind was troubled. Harry and Ron had both disappeared. Draco had given her this time turner, what was she supposed to do about it? Harry was still to explain that. Seamus stirred.

"Hermione?" he said, his voice soft and kind. She looked up, his brown eyes full of concern. "What's wrong? You look worried?" She pondered a few moments whether or not she should mention anything. She could tell him. Slowly she sat up further and opened her hand, revealing the little parchment package. She opened it and pulled out a tiny hourglass on a broken chain.

"Time turner," she said, offering it to him. "I need to talk to Harry, but he's not here." Seamus looked at the tiny object, and Hermione couldn't quite tell what the expression on his face was. Fear? Concern? Or something else? He handed it back and pointed at the crumpled parchment.

"What's that?" Hermione flattened it and saw there was writing on the paper. An address: Malacia's Emporium, End house, Rippon Walk, London. She frowned.

"This must be where it came from. Rippon Walk? I've never heard of it," she muttered.

"I have," Seamus replied. His eyes were cold as he spoke. "It's in London, and you can get from it from Diagon Alley. But that place, it's worse than Knockturn Alley. Darker, more sinister, more secret." She glanced at him, seeing the red and gold of the flames reflected in his dilated pupils. He looked afraid.

"How do you know about it?" she asked. He looked back at her.

"My dad, he once had to deal with a woman who worked in one of the shops down there. Wasn't pleasant at all." Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but the portrait hole opened. She hastily covered the time turner and scrunched the parchment up. Ginny's friend, Yvonne and Harry stepped through. Hermione jumped up.

"Harry, Yvonne, are you okay? Where's Ron?" Harry looked up.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. Yvonne smiled weakly at Hermione.

"Ron's outside. He wouldn't come back up yet," she said sitting down by the fire. Hermione felt her heart drop a little. Harry sat down by the fire and Yvonne turned to walk away.

"Yvonne?" Hermione said uncertainly. She stood and Yvonne turned. "Don't you want to sit with us a while? We know Ginny was a good friend."

"Oh, thanks," she said quietly. "But this isn't my common room." Hermione smiled.

"Everyone else is in lessons, don't worry." They all sat down by the fire. Hermione knew by the pensive look on Harry's face that he was in the process of finding a way to make this his fault. She sighed and left Seamus for a moment to sit next to Harry. They had been leaning against a chair, and she held out the parchment and tiny time turner. Harry looked at it, and then at Hermione.

"Ron can't know we have it," he said. His voice sounded defeated.

"Harry, how did you get it? I mean, why?"

"Malfoy gave it me."

"Gave? Malf...gave?" Her mind would never get around that sentence.

"Yeah. He came to me, and told me to give it to you; apparently, you are supposed to understand. He said his dad had called him back home, and that he probably wouldn't be back in school again."

"Oh." Her mind was slowly forming a conclusion. Draco had a time turner; Lucius was Minister. Draco didn't want Lucius to have the time turner, but he must still need it for some reason, otherwise why would he have given it and the address to Hermione? She was confused.

"I think he wants us to go and get it fixed, Harry."

"What?" Harry looked stunned. It wasn't that much of a revelation, surely.

"Well why else would he give it to me? I've got the address right here; I assume this is where he got it. If he didn't think he'd need it anymore he'd have destroyed it. But why would he still need it..." her sentence drifted off as she scoured every inch of her mind for a reason. Harry was muttering something, but she didn't hear it, as her rational thoughts latched on to a possibility. She turned suddenly back to Harry, who stopped mumbling abruptly.

"Dr. Pickering!" she said. Her mind knew what she meant, though Harry, who had not followed the thought process in her mind, did not.

"What? Where?"

"No," she suppressed a smile. "Dr. Pickering, Draco said he's a Death Eater..." Harry grinned, and Hermione looked blankly back at him.

"So it's Draco now is it? I told you that you fancied him." Hermione threw several sheets of parchment at him.

"I do not like Malfoy!" she said moodily. Seamus looked on with a sort of hurt bemusement. Hermione looked back to him. "I don't!" she added, seeing the look on his face. She shot Harry an angry glare and he sighed.

"Okay, go on," he said.

"Well, think about it. If Pickering is a Death Eater then he'll know about the Ambrosia."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Think Harry! I'll bet they want the Time-Turner to get the Immortality potion for You-Know-Who. I have to go get it fixed."

"You can't! How are we supposed to go and get it fixed?"

"You aren't, but I am. There must be a reason he wanted it."

"You can't go without me, Hermione!" Harry frowned, his emerald eyes wide and concerned. She put a hand on his arm.

"You have to stay with Ron. If you've gone then he'll wonder what's going on, won't he?"

"You can't go alone! And why the sudden urge to help a Malfoy? New charity is it?"

"Harry! Stop being difficult!"

"I won't let you go!"

"We'll go too," Seamus said. "Me and Yvonne can come with you Hermione. The more of us there are, the better."

"See? We'll be fine! I reckon Malfoy wants us to go and get the Ambrosia first," she said, hoping that she was right.

"But what if he doesn't? And I thought it was lost ages ago."

"It was, but what if we stole it...what if you stole it?"

"Me?" Harry looked completely disbelieving. Suddenly it all fell into place. She remembered the glass bottle the professor in Manchester had passed around. Her hand went instantly to her throat and she pulled the chain from around her neck.

"Harry it all makes sense, the chain. Look, remember when the Professor showed us that bottle. It was exactly the same shape as this one on this chain, except it was bigger. And the picture of the dark-haired thief! It was you!" At this Harry laughed.

"Are you seriously telling me I was on an Ancient Greek picture?"

"Yes. It's not that weird. Well...it just is. Here, take the chain. As soon as I get back with the time turner you'll have to go back and steal the potion before Lucius Malfoy gets there." She stood up, Yvonne and Seamus following her to the portrait hole. As she glanced back, she saw Harry staring at the chain the little girl had given him. His face was worried, and in his eyes she saw the knowledge that it all made sense, but he was having trouble believing. He faced her and she paused.

"Are you sure?" he said. Hermione nodded.

"Positive. I'll be back soon, and make sure Ron doesn't find out." She tucked the time turner into her pocket and the portrait hole closed behind them.

***

Draco lay flat on his bed. He looked a state, his hair was clumped in strands sticking up at odd angles and his robes were torn and bloody. The cuts on his arms bled freely in little channels down to his wrists. His eyes were shut tight as he tried to black out the world. His thoughts were confused, and he felt sick. His encounter with Voldemort had not gone well. As a consequence of this, Draco's sickness had worsened. The spell he was under kept him in a state of constant pain and misery. He sat up slowly as the door opened.

Lucius Malfoy entered, closing the door behind him and turning to face his son. He smiled.

"Well Draco, it seems the Dark Lord is pleased with your endurance. If you continue to display such strength, he may decide to free you."

"Free me of his service?"

"So that is what you want?" he said, his expression hardening as he spoke.

"I did not say that. You implied it."

"You know very well that is not what I meant. He will free you of your curse. Then you can serve him as we have expected you to do." Lucius stared at Draco. Whatever he expected him to do, he was disappointed. Draco lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. At this display of apathy, Lucius seemed to lose his thread a little, and he leant across the bed.

"Why do you defy who you are?" he said, the strain in his voice very noticeable. Draco looked at Lucius a moment, searching the ice-cold features for a sign of compassion. In that moment, Lucius sounded concerned for the future of his son, yet Draco could not believe it.

"Because I am not what you want me to be," he said. Lucius looked uncomprehending.

"So you support them? So be it..."

"I didn't say that, Father. Why should you force me into something that is nothing to do with me?"

"It is to do with everyone, and if you don't see that then you are blind."

"I see more than you do..."

"No you don't, Draco. There are other forces at work in this world, son. I would have thought you would trust me to know best." Draco scoffed.

"The only thing you know best how to do...is kill!" Draco didn't know how his father would react to that, though he knew it would not be a positive reaction. Lucius gripped Draco's arm tightly and pulled him to his unsteady feet and he was dragged from the room, out of the mansion and taken to the Ministry without another word from Lucius.

***

Hermione was looking nervous. She was leading the way to Gringotts as Seamus directed, hurrying along Diagon Alley at an unnecessarily hasty pace. Yvonne and Seamus followed in silence. The street was fairly empty, but Hermione's tension made her feel crowded by those who were there, as though they were all watching her.

The three of them reached Gringotts and she turned to Seamus. He glanced left and right before making a move.

"Follow me," he said, walking towards the side of the bank building and leading them down a road that led behind the buildings in Knockturn Alley. Hermione noticed the black sign with the silver writing that declared this place to be Rippon Walk. The street was flagged with black pavestones and a heavy shadow filled the narrow alley. She shuddered as the wind rustled the leaves that collected in the gutters and blew the shutters of the shop windows. Seamus paused to glance at a broken window. Hermione stood close, her eyes searching.

"What is it?" she whispered, afraid to speak too loud and disturb the silence. He didn't move for a moment, and then tore his gaze from the window.

"Oh, nothing. I was just...that place. It's familiar. I don't know, I thought maybe there was someone there." Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Someone was watching?

"Seamus? Shall we go back?"

"No, I was probably imagining it, come on," he turned and led them on. Yvonne was staring at the window as they passed it, her eyes wide and afraid.

Hermione looked at the piece of parchment. The three of them had reached the end of the road and there in front of them was a dark green door. There was a wooden sign hanging above the door, which read 'Malacia's Emporium.' This was the place. They exchanged glances, and Seamus took a deep breath as he reached out to knock on the door. However, it swung slowly open on its creaky hinges before his hand even touched the flaking paintwork.

Hermione stared at the corridor through the gap between the open door and the wall. It was dimly lit inside, and there were red and black drapes all over the room. She stepped across the threshold, Yvonne and Seamus following. The door clicked shut behind them as they made their way towards the table at the far corner of the red room. She found her eyes fixated on the numerous bones and red stains that adorned the room. The candle wax had dribbled down the walls, but the material had darker stains on it. She bent to examine what looked like a femur, running her fingers over the long, deep gauge in the bone.

"Welcome to the Emporium," a voice whispered. She jumped backwards, letting out a shriek. Yvonne had been looking at something under a cover. That something spoke. Hermione swayed slightly, the heavy air making her feel tired and faint and a hissing sound told her there was a serpent somewhere in the room. The room swam before her like a heat haze. She turned suddenly and it all came back into focus. There was a girl sitting at the desk now, stroking a black rat. She smiled at them as the rat scrambled onto her shoulders, chewing on the material hanging from the neck of her black top.

"Hello. Can I help you? My name is Malacia, I own the Emporium," she said, her lip curling so slightly most would have missed it. The girl looked at Seamus briefly, and Hermione stepped forward searching her pockets for the Time Turner.

"Yes, I believe you can." Hermione laid the parchment on the table first, and then placed the Time Turner on top. She looked the girl in the eye. "Did you make this? If so, can you fix it, make it work again?" Malacia looked lazily back and picked up the pendant, the broken chain catching the candlelight.

"Ah yes, Time Turner. I made this not very long ago. How interesting that I should be seeing it again so soon."

"Well, can you fix it?" Hermione leant forwards on the table.

"It's illegal, you know? Besides, it'll cost you. The calculations aren't easy." She stood up and put one hand on the curtain that shielded the back of the store from view.

"How much? We can get it, we know it's illegal, but you made it for someone our age in the first place." Hermione stood straight again as Malacia smiled. The flickering flames reflected in her dark eyes making her look fierce. When she spoke, her soft voice made her sound innocent.

"Yes. And how would you know about this?" She looked back at the Time Turner and laced the chain through her fingers as she walked around the table. "This was the property of Draco Malfoy, I believe?"

"Yes," Hermione said feeling more uneasy. Malacia then did an odd thing, and held the chain out to her left. There was no one there, yet she remained there.

"Then that makes it property of Mr. Lucius Malfoy," she said gently, watching as Lucius' tall, dark form appeared at her side. Hermione stared in horror for a split second, but her mind was quick. So Lucius had the Time Turner. She could still run away. She turned and felt a strong grip on both her arms as soon as she moved.

"Let...Seamus?" she began. "Seamus, what..." her sentence was interrupted by a low sinister laugh. Lucius watched her struggle to comprehend what was happening.

Lucius took the chain from Malacia and walked around the table to where Hermione stood.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes filled with a malicious amusement. "You have saved me a lot of effort, you know? And, best friend of Harry Potter? How useful you will be."

"What have you done to them?" Hermione said. Her gaze was on Yvonne and Seamus, both of whom had made no attempt to get away. They were obviously heavily under control.

"Oh, they will be fine. Or rather, have been fine. I expect the Dark Lord will keep them as long as needed and no longer. Now," he drew his wand and ran a slender finger over it. "Won't you accompany me to the Ministry?" he pointed the wand at her. She said nothing, frozen in fear. Was he going to kill her? She had only a second to register his smile at her fearful expression before completely blacking out. "Stupefy!"

***

Draco sat by the window. It was very dark in the cellars and this grimy window was the only source of light, except for the candles in the corridors. But of course, the door to the rest of the building was locked. He sighed, leaning against the cold wall. Since leaving the Mansion, he had been locked in this cell like a prisoner for hours without his wand. Though he supposed he was viewed as a traitor or something. He hadn't exactly fulfilled the 'Good Death Eater' qualities. He stared blankly at the girl he was sharing his cell with. When he first got here she was lying on the ledge, but McNair came to take her away. When she came back, she was still unconscious. She was unconscious now, and had he cared he would have gone to take a proper look at her, but he guessed she was here for the same reason he was: to be out of the way. She looked to be quite pretty, though he couldn't define her features under the tight curls of hair obscuring her face. He looked away, shivering slightly; the converted cellar was damp and he pulled his clock tighter around himself.

The cell door swung open and five people came in. Draco looked up glumly. One of them was his father. He was looking irate as he pointed into the room and two others were deposited in the cell. Lucius made to leave with his Death Eater colleague when he turned to glance at Draco. There was something in those eyes then that Draco could not place. His father's eyes lingered on him only a moment before he turned and slammed the door, shutting his son and the three other prisoners in the dreary darkness.

Draco forced his gaze away from the door and looked at the people who had joined him.

"Hermione?" he said, his heart sinking. He got up, his aching muscles screaming at the fast movement. He had been curled in the corner for a good few hours. As he drew level, he saw Hermione too was unconscious, but the girl with her was not. She glared at him.

"What happened to Hermione?" he bent down and laid a shaky hand on her cheek. She wasn't cold so she was alive. The other girl was shivering now too as she joined Draco at Hermione's side.

"Mr. Malfoy stunned her," she said shortly, not looking at him.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, glancing at her.

"Yvonne," she replied still staring at Hermione. Draco waited to see if any more information was coming, but Yvonne stayed silent for a while. He knew she'd speak eventually, as curiosity would get the better of her. He sat properly and crossed his legs.

He was right. She looked up.

"Why are you here?" she demanded as she sat down next to him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're Malfoy, aren't you?"

"I'm not just Malfoy, you know," he said hotly. Yvonne gave him an inquisitive look before he continued. "I get it, you think because of my Father I should be out there being a minion or something. Well, surprise! I'm not a clone of him."

"That's good to know," said a voice from below him. Hermione was lying there, eyes open and a hand on her head. Yvonne looked immediately to her.

"Hermione! You're okay!" she said. But on seeing Yvonne, Hermione did an odd thing by shifting quickly away from her. Draco looked on curiously.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"What's wrong? It's thanks to Yvonne I'm stuck in here..."

"I didn..."

"You just stood there!" Anger flashed across her face briefly, before being replaced with a half understanding look. She sighed. "I know. You were under a spell, so was Seamus."

"I did..." Yvonne began, avoiding Hermione's gaze. As she looked away, her eyes widened. "Hermione! Look! It's...Ginny!" she stood up and Hermione followed her to the girl's side. Draco spun round and spoke before he could stop himself.

"That's Weasley?"

Draco watched as Hermione drew Weasley's wand from her pocket and whispered "Enervate!" The red-haired girl lay still for a few moments before waking up. She blinked and pushed her hair out of her eyes, looking quizzically at Draco and the two girls.

"What's happening?" she said quietly. "Where am I? What are you doing here?"

"What an original line of questioning, Weasley," Draco said lazily. It seemed any Weasley could incite negativity in him.

"Well, on waking in a dark and creepy place, Malfoy, it's nice to be told what the hell is going on!"

"Happens often does it? Maybe someone's hoping you'll get stuck in the 'dark and creepy place' someday," he turned away and went back to his ledge muttering, " I know I do," under his breath.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Yvonne said, immediately moving to Ginny's side. He sighed. It seemed he was destined to be stuck with Gryffindors the majority of this year. Though this friend of Weasley's was in Ravenclaw. She still had her black school robes on, and he could see her tie under them. Hermione shot Draco a nasty look before sitting down with Weasley.

"What happened to you? How did you get here?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Draco heard Ginny reply as he looked out of the window. His head was starting to ache. He could feel the beginnings of nausea washing over him. He needed some fresh air.

"We were in the carriages in Belgium. There was a coldness, and people everywhere in black. Then there was fighting. I can't remember. I saw you," she looked at Yvonne. "And Seamus was there too. They were killing people. I think there were Dementors too, but they were killing and making people kill each other," she paused and Draco closed his eyes. A buzzing had started in his mind; images flew wildly across it trying to force him to look at them, to see the death. Her voice broke them up again.

"Then someone grabbed me, and I blacked out. Since then I've been here in this damn room." There was a moment's silence as Yvonne and Hermione both comforted Ginny with their sympathetic faces and gestures. Draco took a deep breath forcing himself to speak and ignore the pain. Voldemort was punishing him, trying to make him remember he was his.

"What do you have?" he said quickly, picking up shards of glass from the floor and tossing them across the room. The three girls looked at him blankly, a mild irritation on their faces. He realised that wasn't a clear statement and tried again.

"That he will want. What have you got that he might want?"

"I don't know!" Ginny said. "Why don't you tell me?" She frowned at him as he sighed.

"Follow the logic, Weasley. If I knew what was going on, do you think I'd be stuck in a dark, damp cellar with you three?"

"Well you're hardly our first choice of prison companion..." she was interrupted as the door swung open again.

***

Lucius Malfoy and three other Death Eaters entered. Lucius was looking smug, but his companions looked harassed. He grinned widely displaying his perfect white teeth. Ginny momentarily wondered how much time he'd spent getting them that straight, and that pointed.

"Amusing as your petty little fights are, I am going to have to interrupt with some news," he said.

"Won 'Death Eater of the Month' again have you?" Draco said, looking away from Lucius and out of the window. Lucius' smile faltered slightly, but he hitched it back into place and walked to where Draco lay. Draco turned to stare defiantly at him, and Ginny saw for the first time the flash of hatred that passed between them. Or hatred from Draco, at least. Lucius merely looked disappointed with his son. He drew out his wand smoothly and for a wild moment, Ginny thought he was going to kill him. And in that wild moment, she wanted to do something about it. But it was a moment, and it passed.

"Draco, you really should learn to hold you tongue," he pointed the wand at his son and said, "Finarynx!" A sliver of blue mist seeped from the wand tip and circled the air around Draco. Lucius crossed his arms, and Ginny, Hermione and Yvonne watched petrified to the spot as Draco started to gasp for breath. He clutched at his throat as though there was something there, strangling him, but it made no difference and he struggled for air, his features contorted into an expression of severe pain and fear.

Moments later, with a flick of his wand Lucius said, "Finite Incantatem," and turned his attention back to Ginny and her friends. Lucius was looking directly at Ginny, and she and Yvonne were staring back. Hermione however, was staring past him at Draco.

"You could've killed him!" she said suddenly. Ginny too looked to see Draco was lying flat on the ground now, breathing heavily and shivering violently. Lucius took a glance over his shoulder and then glared at Hermione.

"He'll be fine," he said before turning back to Ginny. She felt the tingle that was fear in her veins. Draco must be right, why else would they have gone to the trouble to kidnap her? But despite her mind searching every corner and dark place within, she couldn't find a single reason for them to want something she owned.

"You. Recognise this?" Lucius delved into his robes and produced a small black book. Hermione, who must have seen every book in the library, looked at it, squinting to try to read the writing. Yvonne was doing the same. But Ginny knew it. She knew those tatty corners and peeling letters. She knew the crumpled pages within that were soaked with ink and blood decades old. The world around her seemed to melt as she focused further on the book. She closed her eyes and could see the flowing script appearing before her eyes, and the gentle whispering in her ears as his bittersweet words poisoned her mind.

"Do it for me, Ginny. Won't you help me? I can help you Ginny, if you just help me first..." She could see him, his dark eyes boring into her own deep brown ones...

"That's Tom Riddle's diary," a shaky voice hurtled her back to the present. Ginny opened her eyes and looked to see it was Hermione who had spoken. Of course, she'd seen the diary before. Ginny shuddered and tried to pull herself back together, but Lucius was coming closer and Ginny could hear the diary still whispering its twisted words.

"Indeed, but it was more than that to you, wasn't it?" his lip curled and Ginny felt herself go slightly pink.

"It's just a book," she said quietly, trying not to look at it.

"Yes it is. Now I want to know what happened to the sheet of parchment that was inside it. Where is it?"

"Parchment? I don't remember any. Just the...the book..." Ginny stopped as Lucius pointed his wand at her. It touched under her chin and he pushed her head up so she was looking into his cool gaze.

"Don't lie to me. I know there was a piece of parchment in the diary," he waved the book in front of her. He spoke, but she didn't hear Lucius.

"Come back to me..."

"No!"

"You're mine, Ginny. You always will be..."

"NO! No! No!" she shouted putting her hands over her ears and shaking her head.

Lucius backed down and Ginny saw the looks of intrigue on everyone's faces. She felt hot and dizzy and her eyes were stinging with tears. Slowly she lowered her hands, seeing Lucius pocket the book again. Her mind was whirring and she felt tired again, just like she had in her first year after her encounters with Tom.

"If you will not divulge the information then I will find it without your help. It will be at your home." He took a last glance at her and left the room, his cloak billowing out behind him as he hurried from the room. His escort departed with him, slamming the door shut as they went. There was a moment of complete silence before Yvonne was at Ginny's side again.

"Are you okay?" she said. Ginny nodded even though she felt far less than okay, and watched as Hermione approached Draco. She went slowly and cautiously as though he was dangerous. With his wand he probably would be. She bent down next to him.

"Draco?" Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm...fine," Ginny heard him whisper. He clearly was not fine. Hermione leant closer and tried to help him up, but Ginny heard him snap at her.

"I said...I'm fine. Leave me...here!" He lay still and ignored Hermione's final attempt to help him. Ginny felt a pang of sympathy for the blonde boy, but her heart was more focused on the last words of his father. It will be at your home. Thinking about it now, she did remember what had fallen out when she first opened the diary. It was a sheet of parchment, a scrap torn from a book. And there were potion ingredients on it. And she remembered as though it was yesterday. Ginny closed her eyes and saw her 11 year old self pausing, looking blankly at the parchment and placing it in the drawer under her cupboard. It was still there.

***

It was getting dark, and the light from the little window was getting duller and slowly redder. The room was soon infused with deep red light that tipped the protrusions on the rough walls, making them look like they were highlighted with blood. Draco had lay on the floor for some time after the incident with his Father, preferring to be left to recover alone. He had pretended to be asleep for a while so the others wouldn't bother him, though the reddening room had reminded him of the light from the fire at home. He felt warmer now wrapped in his cloak and eventually drifted off to sleep as the light had failed entirely, plunging the cellar into almost complete blackness.

When Draco woke, he almost screamed aloud. It was so dark he could barely see, but the shadows around him were dancing like fire. Voldemort was here, tormenting him; he could feel it. The pain was heavy in his head and he couldn't think. He shifted on the floor and flung out his arms, digging his nails into the floor when his fingers came across something cold and smooth. He gripped it tightly and slashed it three times across his arm, feeling the gentle, soothing warmth of blood as it seeped from the cuts. He took a deep breath but the sickness was overwhelming, and the pain in his head was not receding. His ragged breathing was piercing the silence in sharp bursts and as his panicked mind struggled against it, the room blackened, an abyss before him, and he passed out.

"Draco? Draco! Wake up!" Silence. Draco opened an eye to see a shadow over him. There was an expression of concern there, a kind face looking down on him.

"Draco!" Hermione said, shaking him slightly. He blinked several more times, and the world cleared, though it was still a little hazy at the edges. He shuffled up onto his elbows and looked at her.

"What?" he said, feeling slightly ruffled at being woken for no apparent reason. There was no rampaging creature or hex-happy Death Eater around. In fact, there was no one else but himself and Hermione in the room. He looked back at her and saw her worried face replaced with a stern expression. She held up a piece of glass, which caught the light from the window, the tip glinting red like...

"Oh," he said. Blood. His blood. Momentarily, he'd forgotten about the night before, his mind oddly clear.

"Oh?" She tossed the glass aside. "What are you doing, Draco? Look what you've done!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him forwards so he was sitting, and so he could clearly see the dried blood. He stared. The gashes were deep and there was quite a bit of blood around him. Must have been because of the dark, he hadn't been able to see what he was doing. He felt a slight stab of irritation at her inquisition. He'd already told her once he wasn't talking about it.

"It doesn't matter," he said, pulling his cloak back over himself. Damn the persistent bitch.

"No. Tell me now! I want an explanation for everything, Malfoy!"

"I don't owe you anything," he snapped. His mind fought within itself. She was a Mudblood. The only reason he had ever wanted her help was because, though he hated to admit it, she was clever.

"It's your fault I'm here! Your dad just came and took Ginny and Yvonne away. I think you owe me an explanation at least, Draco. I tried to help you." Her face was filled with confusion, and Draco knew what she was trying to do. She wanted to know why he was acting like he was, so she could evaluate whether or not to trust him. He sighed.

"My mother is dead. He killed her."

"What? Who, your father?"

"Yes," he said as he looked back at the floor. He didn't want to see the pity in her face, why should she pity him? Yet she did.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that. How did he get away with it? He should be in Azkaban."

"No one else knows it. And why would they believe me? I have no evidence." Subconsciously he ran his fingers over the cuts, letting his nails scrape across the broken skin. Hermione reached out and stopped him before he had realised he was doing it.

"Is...is that...why?" she asked uncertainly, not wanting to look at him as she spoke.

"No. Voldemort put a spell on me. It's punishment for defying him. Apparently, my father had to plead with Voldemort to spare my life. I wouldn't know, I was too occupied with screaming in pain," his voice was bitter as he spoke. He remembered too well what Voldemort had done to him, and he didn't want to think about it.

He stood up shakily and went back to the tiny window to the outside world. His eyes watered when he got closer to the light. The dark cellar was making his eyes adjust slowly. In his mind, he was mulling over the possibilities. They all needed to escape. On his own, he wouldn't be able to, but he was reluctant to speak about escape. It hurt because it was a defiance against Voldemort. Not only that, if he tried to escape then perhaps he'd never be able to come back. After everything his father and Voldemort had done to him, he should want to break away, but something in the back of his mind was telling him this was who he was. He'd never get away from it, he couldn't change it, and in time, he would learn to embrace the power it would give him.

Right now, that looked doubtful.

***

Ron stared back at Harry. In a split second, he decided to tell Ron, whilst trying to stop himself at the same time.

"Hermione...well...never mind," he sputtered. Ron blinked.

"What the hell was that?"

"Nothing."

"Look, do you know where Hermione is or not? And why won't you tell me?" his expression creased into irritation, and his voice had raised a little. Harry looked out of the window. It was Saturday afternoon, and Hermione, Seamus and Yvonne had not come back. They'd been gone over night. Ron had obviously noticed Hermione was gone, and Dean had been wandering around in search of Seamus for almost three hours now. Harry wanted to tell Ron he'd let Hermione run off to a dark and dangerous place with the broken Time Turner, but he couldn't think of a good way to put it. Ron was still unstable from the news about his sister.

"Okay. Right. You know what we found out about Pickering?" Harry said in lowered tones.

"Yeah," Ron leaned in slightly, "He hasn't kidnapped her has he?"

"No...well..." he stopped at the look on Ron's face. "No he hasn't." Harry secretly prayed that wasn't what had happened.

"Well, you also remember that Malfoy had the Time Turner?"

"Oh how did I know that fucking prick would find his way into this," Ron said folding his arms and frowning.

"Yes, well...and don't get mad at me. He gave me the Time Turner, but it was broken," Harry said quickly, seeing Ron unfold his arms, and his expression contort in anger.

"You had the Time Turner and you didn't tell me?" he shouted, standing up. People started to look at him.

"Ron, sit down and let me explain..."

"You..."

"SIT DOWN!" Harry yelled. The common room went silent, and Harry looked at the students who were staring at Ron and himself. "What are you looking at?" he snapped. They all turned back to their own conversations or work, still throwing curious glances at Ron and Harry. Ron sat, staring angrily at Harry.

"You'd better have a bloody good explanation for this, Harry."

"Look, don't have a go at me; we did it for your own good. The Time Turner is broken, and Malfoy told me to give it to Hermione, so I did...Let me explain!" he said, seeing Ron was about to go off on one again. "And Hermione put two and two together to work out it was Lucius Malfoy who wanted the Time Turner, because Pickering must've told them about the Ambrosia, so they can get it for Voldemort. So she went to get it repaired." He took a deep breath, having spoken very quickly to avoid interruption. There was a moment of silence before Ron spoke.

"And you let her! I can't believe you! What if she's wrong, what if it's a trap? You said yourself those letters were threatening us, not you..." Ron's voice was bitter as Harry had never heard it before. He understood he was still trying to deal with the shock of what happened to Ginny, but blaming Harry was unreasonable, and it was starting to make Harry angry.

"Do you think I wanted her to go?" he hissed back, but Ron didn't seem to want to believe anything Harry said. Later, he would realise Ron wasn't used to this sort of thing happening to him, and he needed someone to blame.

"Well, if you'd cared that much you would have stopped her and gone yourself, wouldn't you?"

"Ron, it's not my fucking fault!"

"Yes, yes it is!" he stood up, "She's probably dead now too, all because of you..." Ron suddenly faltered. Harry felt those words piercing him like a knife. He knew it was his fault. He had spent months trying to convince himself the deaths and disappearances weren't his fault, but in his heart, he knew they were. Because all Voldemort really wanted was to kill him. Hearing someone else say the words he'd been nursing in his mind for years made it hurt even more. From the look on Ron's face, Harry knew Ron realised what he'd said.

"Fine," Harry stood up too, "Fine. If that's the way you fucking feel why didn't you say so? Why don't you just hand me over to Voldemort and save your own fucking neck?" He turned his back on Ron and fled through the portrait hole, ignoring the worried and curious glances people were shooting him and Ron. Ron had turned and walked away up the dormitory staircase.

Harry stormed through the castle, knocking people out of the way as if they weren't there, but slowly they disappeared as time drew on. He had walked a lot of his rage off when he finally retreated to his window ledge room. But where that rage had been was now a pit of despair. Ron had basically told him what he'd been trying to deny for the past seven years. Since he found out his parents were murdered, that it was his fault. Since Cedric had died, that was his fault and now Ginny, and maybe even Hermione.

Then there were all the indirect deaths, like Bertha Jorkins only three years ago. He paced across the room between the tables, breathing unevenly, and fighting to deny it again, but he couldn't. His thoughts about it made him angry again, and he lashed out, kicking over the nearest table. It clattered into the next table, and he picked up the nearest chair, hurling it across the room at the far wall and flinging himself onto the floor as angry tears graced his pale cheeks. He grasped his hair in both hands, leaning his chin on his knees and sat for some time letting the silent tears trickle down his face.

Though the tears had ceased, Harry still sat on the floor of the room, the table and chairs still upturned. He was staring into space now, when he realised there was someone else here. For a moment he though it was Malfoy, but then he remembered he'd left. Harry looked up.

"Professor?"

"Hello, Harry," he said with his usual smile. Harry looked back at the floor as Dumbledore joined him.

"I have just heard of your row with Mr. Weasley."

"From who."

"Mr. Weasley. I noticed three of my students had disappeared, and he has just confirmed where they have disappeared to."

"That was nice of him."

"Harry, it's not so bad..."

"Not so bad? Maybe not for you, Professor, but for me it is that bad! No one understands what it's like to be the cause of so many deaths all because...because"

"Harry, you are not the cause of any of these unfortunate deaths, and we don't know there have been any yet, it hasn't been confirmed."

"Well it's fairly obvious. Ron has noticed..."

"Ronald Weasley is still very upset about the fact his sister is missing. As are the rest of his family. They are here and with him now. I'm sure you understand how he feels."

"Yes, he feels it's my fault."

"He doesn't really."

"You weren't there, he made it pretty clear," Harry stood up and walked to his window ledge. He had never wished more that he wasn't who he was. And he had never before considered just giving up and going to Voldemort himself as he was doing now. Dumbledore got up too and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, there are people who care very much for you. Ron is one of them. He knows what he said before hurt you, but you have to understand he is suffering too. But if you weren't there it'd be far harder for him." Dumbledore stayed for a moment looking out the window like Harry, but then he turned to leave. He paused as he reached the door.

"And as for Dr. Pickering, he has left us. He seems to have realised his identity was compromised. You are not the only one stuck in the middle Harry, but Mr. Malfoy did you a favour. Remember that." With that, he left the room.

Harry thought for a long time about Dumbledore's words. Would Ron care if Harry let Voldemort take him? Was that taking the easy way out? Harry had never felt so torn. If he let Voldemort kill him, his parents would have died in vain, protecting him with their lives for nothing. Yet because he was alive, more lives were being taken. His head started to ache with thinking about it, so he tried not to. But in doing this, his mind wandered to what else Dumbledore had said. Malfoy too was in a similar position. Harry let a tiny smile creep onto his lips. How ironic that he could now relate better to his enemy than anyone else, and that he couldn't consider him an enemy anymore after the help he'd offered. But the smile passed as his mind focused back on Hermione. He sighed, looking at the dull sky, hoping, praying she was still alive.

***

The house was quite large really, nothing compared to the Mansion. He'd always imagined a Weasley house to be tiny, yet it wasn't. Though it was obviously held together with magic. One whisper to end the spell and it'd fall down, he was sure. In the back of his mind, Lucius wished there was a Weasley around he could taunt about it, though that would of course make things far more difficult. After all, it was the little things that made life worth it.

Lucius strode through the garden, his eyes passing over the old car and onto the flaking paint on the door. The four Death Eaters following in silence. He touched the door with his wand.

"Alohomora!" he said. The door sprung open and he and his companions entered. As soon as he set foot in the house, he cringed at the hideous paintwork and the terrible condition of the carpets. This house was foul. Immediately he noticed the distinct lack of Weasleys. He was really hoping for a full-scale decimation of the house and its population after they'd fulfilled usefulness, but alas, no such luck. He opened the kitchen door and spotted someone at the table. They didn't look up until it was too late.

"Hey I..."

"Imperio!" Lucius grinned. "Take me to the girl's room."

The boy got up and walked without questions. He was tall and quite thin looking. Lucius vaguely thought he'd seen him before, but all these Weasleys looked the same. They climbed a few staircases, and Lucius was almost sure they'd collapse they were so rickety, when they came onto a landing, and were led into a small room painted lilac. He glanced around at the lurid colour that covered almost every spot of the room. There was a corner where there were a few photographs pinned to the wall, and a mirror that was covered in dust. He was about to turn away when one photo in particular caught his eye. A smirk crept across his face as he pulled it from the wall. It was a small print of Tom Riddle when he was Head Boy at Hogwarts. He frowned slightly at the oddity of this find. It seemed the diary had had a more lasting effect that he'd intended if the girl wanted to remember. He pocketed it and turned back to the door.

"Accio Parchment!" he said, holding out his hand. The paper flew out of a drawer and landed in his hand. Lucius glanced at it and saw it was indeed the thing he had been looking for, then strode from the room. Once outside he hurried from the Weasleys' property and looked at his watch. He had to meet someone. His followers had exited with him.

"You! With me, you two deal with the situation here," he said. Two of the Death Eaters turned back to the house, and two followed Lucius to Disapparate back to the Ministry.

When Lucius Apparated back in his office, he saw his contact was already waiting for him.

"Malacia. Is it ready?" he asked.

"Yes, Master Malfoy." She held out her hand and dropped a tiny package into it. "Is there anything else that might be done, Master?"

"No, not now. You can go." She bowed low and exited as Lucius turned to his other two Death Eaters. He pointed at one of them and held out the parchment with the ingredients on it.

"Go and get these ingredients and do not go to Snape," he said.

"But, Snape is most skilled in..."

"I said do not go to him, Nott. The Dark Lord has expressed clearly he has other work for Snape." Lucius looked away, barely registering the Death Eater bow and exit. Finally, he turned to the other Death Eater, who approached him slowly. He held out the Time-Turner and a slender hand took it from him, the long red nails scraping across his hand.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was quiet and soft.

"Nott is getting you the ingredients, soon you will be able to go, my love," Lucius said, closing the gap between himself and the woman. She tucked the tiny device inside her robes and ran her finger down his cheek before speaking again in her gentle, hissing voice.

"We are close. Closer than ever, love. But..." She paused, and ran her hand through his hair, letting it fall loosely back into place, framing his perfect, austere features. He laced his fingers through hers and put an arm around her.

"You needn't worry. I have taken care of everything," he whispered as he leant forward, gently pulling her into a deep, loving kiss.