Changes Come

Changes Come

By: YayCoffee

Chapter 5:

Petunia Dursley woke with a start. Since Harry had left for London, she had grown quite unaccustomed to waking in the night. Deep blue light seeping through the half-opened curtains danced eerie patterns on the wall and ceiling as she tried to steady her breath and will her heart rate down. Her bedroom was filled with the heavy sound of Vernon's snoring, which had grown very loud, as he was still in a deep sleep.

She didn't know what had caused this profound sense of unease. A nightmare, perhaps? No, that couldn't possibly be it. She didn't have nightmares. It must be the state of the fence in the back garden. It was long overdue for a fresh coat of paint; it was chipped in at least three places! What would the neighbors say? No, that wasn't the problem, either. Why on earth would a garden fence cause her to feel frightened?

But, normal people didn't wake up frightened in the dead of night for no discernable reason. A light sheen of sweat had made her nightdress stick uncomfortably to her chest and legs even though the late summer breeze coming in through the window was fairly chilly.

She sighed deeply--a vain attempt to calm her rattled nerves. It didn't work. She found that she was getting more and more fearful with every passing second. Something was definitely wrong.

Maybe she just needed a bit of light and a quick drink of water. She got out of bed and started toward the toilet. Three paces from the door, she froze. Her unnerving sense of dread had grown exponentially, and she found that she was now rooted to the spot, petrified with fear. But, it was more than fear. She felt as though the very world might end in only a few moments time. In that instant, the panic bubbling up inside her body extended toward only one tangible thought--Dudley. She had to get to him.

Her heart was racing. She watched her own legs and arms move in slow motion as the short trip to Dudley's room seemed to take years.

His door was already open when she got there, and she noticed a mirrored expression of dread on her son's face. Her blood felt as though it was freezing, and she noticed that tears had started leaking from the corners of her eyes.

She was still in the hallway when she heard it.

Click.

Impossible, she thought, everyone who has a key to the house is inside! She moved to the top of the stairs, craning her long neck around the corner, Dudley only paces behind her.

Almost at once, a tall, robed figure stepped through her doorway, and panic overtook her. She felt as though ice was forming inside her veins, moving into her chest where it was crystallizing in her heart.

Her knees would no longer support the weight of her legs, and she fell to the floor. Her vision became flecked with spotty white light. She screamed and passed out.

-***-

Black. All Harry could see was blackness. He had to get up. He needed to tell Hermione. He had to get up.

Then, there was an explosion of images just behind his eyelids. He saw his bedroom at Privet Drive and felt blind rage like he'd never experienced. Everything was red until he saw his wand arm extended over a large, cowering man, mouth wide in a silent scream as the curse sent his body into wild convulsions. He could hear screaming and desperate crying.

Harry had to pull himself together. Pumpkin juice. He'd had pumpkin juice with his supper. It was orange, and it was cool and lovely, and he could feel tiny flecks of pulp tickle the back of his throat when he swallowed. The glass had a mist of condensation on it that would pool into one large drop where his fingers touched. The water stuck to his hand as he took it away from the glass.

Then there was the acrid smell of vomit much too close to his nose.

"Harry. Oh, Harry. Harry, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Come on. Come on. Harry..." Hermione's whispers were the next thing he noticed. He was aware that she had put one hand on his chest and the other running gently across his forehead, just to the right of his still throbbing scar, pushing hair out of its way. He opened his eyes to find her face only inches from his. She was so close that he could see the miniscule tears shining in the spaces between her eyelashes.

"Hermione," he said, but his voice wasn't working quite the way it should. He wasn't entirely positive that any sound had come out at all.

"Oh, Harry! Oh, thank God!" She whispered, still very close to his face. He was on the floor, lying on his side, and she was right beside him, rocking on her knees. She brought both her hands to the sides of his face before helping him up to a sitting position and putting her arms around his neck and hugging him closely. She was crying harder now than she had been when he first opened his eyes. He brought up a leaden arm to pat her dully on the back.

The pain in his scar was lessening, but he could still feel every beat of his heart echoed in its throbbing. He reached up with two tentative fingers--it felt tender and sticky. When he looked at his fingers, the faint lightning bolt shape was outlined there in a thick, blotchy red.

He reached for his talisman. He needed to tell Dumbledore. He ran his hands up around his neck, but he could not find the chain that had become so familiar. He began frantically tearing at the collar of his shirt.

"My talisman! I can't find my talisman!"

"Oh!" Hermione said with a start. She then pressed the silver ornament into his hand. "Sorry. I took it. I tried using it, but it must be enchanted so that only Order members or the specific owner is able to use it. I tried calling Dumbledore or the Weasleys, but it wouldn't work." She sounded like she was still battling to keep her hysteria at bay.

Harry quickly put the chain back around his neck and held the talisman in his hand.

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Harry. Is everything all right?"

"No, sir. I've just had a bad vision, and my scar started bleeding. I need to go to Privet Drive. I think Voldemort's there. He's got Uncle Vernon!" Harry started to panic more and more with every word he spoke. He didn't have time to wait for Dumbledore. All three of the Dursleys could be dead at any minute.

"Harry, you must remain calm. Can you tell me what you saw?" Dumbledore's voice was steady and intense, but Harry did not have time for this conversation. He couldn't just sit here and rehash what he'd seen and heard. He needed to do something.

"Voldemort! He's there! He's at the Dursleys'!"

"I shall be there shortly. Do not leave Grimmauld Place."

Harry dropped the talisman with a frustrated huff, and got quickly to his feet. The moment he did, he was sorry. He was aching all over and more than a little dizzy. He sat down hard and clumsily at the chair he was sitting in before.

Hermione also got up, quickly spelled away the mess on the floor, and took the seat beside him.

"Harry..." she said, handing him a wet cloth she had transfigured from a piece of parchment. She was looking at him, worried and frightened. He hadn't told her anything. He should tell her.

As he pressed the cloth to his scar, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore was walking through the door of the library. The twinkling planets and stars on his deep blue robes contradicted the very serious expression on his face.

He moved quickly, resting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder before he took a seat at the table. "Harry, you need to tell me about what you saw."

"I saw Voldemort at Number Four. He was torturing Uncle Vernon. I could hear Aunt Petunia and Dudley screaming." He cradled his head in his hands. "It seemed so real. I hope it wasn't. But, it seemed real." He looked into the steady eyes staring back at him and said clearly, "I need to get there, professor."

Dumbledore sat very still, not saying anything, tenting his long fingers and looking very serious. Finally, he said, "Yes... yes... a portkey. Miss Granger, will you please hand me that quill over there?"

Hermione quickly got up, handing the quill to Dumbledore. He tapped it briefly with his wand, saying, "Portus."

"Harry, this is connected to your bedroom upstairs. I believe that will be the safest place to enter the ho--"

Dumbledore's focus changed so quickly, it took Harry a moment to figure out what was happening. Dumbledore was talking to someone through his talisman. Harry tapped the heel of his foot anxiously against the wooden leg of his chair. Time was running out.

"Yes, Minerva... I see... I see... Pettigrew? Yes, certainly." He turned to look at Harry once more. "Harry, I am very sorry. It appears that there is another attack. I am needed there."

"But, sir! The Dursleys! I need to go!" Harry was once again beginning to panic.

"Yes, Harry. I am aware of that. I am contacting Miss Tonks. She shall accompany you to your aunt and uncle's house."

Dumbledore picked up his talisman again and said clearly, "Nymphadora Tonks... Miss Tonks, I need you to come to headquarters... Yes, I am aware of the situation...Yes...."

Before he had even dropped the talisman from his hand, Tonks walked through the door. She was as conservative as Harry had ever seen her, her plain brown hair was in short, feminine spikes. She was dressed simply, in black cotton trousers and a gray tank top just visible under a lightweight black cloak. Harry thought she looked ready for battle.

"Professor Dumbledore. Wotcher, Harry, Hermione," she said seriously, bowing her head slightly.

Professor Dumbledore crossed the room and briefed her much too slowly for Harry's liking. When he was finished, he swept from the room leaving Tonks, Harry and Hermione alone. Tonks moved quickly into action. She picked up the quill from the table and held it out saying, "Harry, you coming or not?"

Harry stood up. He aimed his wand in the direction of his room and said, "Accio Invisibility Cloak." The beautiful, silvery cloak flew into his hands, and he was grateful at the feel of familiar, water-cool material against his fingers. Then he said, "What about Hermione?"

Hermione was quickly on her feet, "What do you mean, 'What about Hermione?' You don't seriously think you are leaving this house without me!"

Tonks looked taken aback. "Dumbledore didn't say anything about you coming."

"Well, then he certainly didn't say anything about me not coming either, did he? I'm going with you." She moved quickly, grabbing at the proffered quill.

Harry was now on his feet as well. "Look!" he said. "We don't have time to argue. We need to get to Surrey. Now!" He too, grabbed the quill.

Tonks took a deep breath, muttered a quick spell, and Harry's world was once again spinning fast, his hip banging sharply into Hermione's as an invisible cord yanked them far away from Grimmauld Place. He could no longer smell the musty scent of old pages, leather bindings, and wood varnish.

They all managed to land on their feet in the very center of the room he'd left only a couple of weeks ago. Harry had drawn his wand and was on his way out the door when Tonks' hushed voice called him back. "Where do you think you're going?" she said. "You don't even know what's down there."

Harry was irritated at her hesitation. "Well, neither do you," he said. "Shall we just all crawl up into bed? Dudley has some old storybooks lying about the shelf up there. What do you fancy? Goldilocks and the Three Bears has always been a favorite of mine."

Tonks returned his outburst with an eye roll and a wry smile before aiming her wand at a spot on the ground.

"Perlustro!" she said clearly, magical light pooling on the ground in a large circle. If Harry had been impressed with Fred and George's Extendable Ears, he was completely bowled over by what was happening on his bedroom floor.

He and Hermione watched, dumbfounded, as the light seemed to simmer into the floorboards, creating a window that allowed them all to see through the floor and into the rooms below. The window moved with Tonks' wand, and she quickly found the spot in the living room where all three Dursleys were being held.

Each of them was trapped in their own blue dome of light, still in their nightclothes. Aunt Petunia's long, thin limbs were folded up like a Spanish fan as she trembled in the center of her cell. Dudley was cross-legged and miserable looking, elbows on his knees and head resting in his hands. Vernon was lying down, apparently unconscious, head lolling in a pool of his own sick. Tremors, aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse, forced his large hand out to touch the side of the cell, where the light crackled and pooled, forcing it back inside.

Tonks shifted the beam to survey the rest of the room. Two Death Eaters in long, black robes and white masks were standing near each other. Harry couldn't see Voldemort, and since his scar wasn't bursting, Harry reckoned he wasn't at Privet Drive anymore.

"Okay," said Tonks. "I know how to break that caging charm. I'll go get the Dursleys out and Portkey them back to Grimmauld Place."

"What are we to do?" Harry asked. He was not going to sit up here and do nothing, waiting like a frightened little boy.

"I want you and Hermione to wait on the stairs in that cloak. Let me handle it. If I run into a problem, you'll know what to do. I'll get your uncle first, then your cousin. When I come back for your aunt, you and Hermione need to come with us. Understand?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

Tonks then looked around the room, picked up one of the books on the shelf and transfigured it into a Death Eater mask before transfiguring her clothes and cloak. She looked pensive, furrowing her brow for a moment, and then her hair lengthened just a bit and became a dirty shade of blonde. Her face and body took on a general masculine appearance, and she put the mask over her square-jawed face.

"I'm going to Apparate just outside and come in through the front door," she said in a now deep baritone. "You wait on the stairs." With a soft pop, she was gone.

"Right," Harry said. He unfurled the cloak and wrapped it carefully around Hermione and himself, thoroughly covering them both from hair to shoes.

They walked as quietly as they could down the stairs. Harry stopped Hermione two steps from the bottom by grabbing her arm. "Be careful," Harry whispered. "The bottom stair creaks. If we need to go down there, we'll have to skip that one."

Harry could feel the fabric around him shift as she nodded her head.

It was getting hot under the cloak, and staying completely still became very hard when concentrating on it. Harry all of a sudden needed to itch his shoulder, or straighten out the arm that was holding the cloak closed tightly around them both.

They waited on the stairs for only a couple of minutes longer before the front door opened, and Harry saw another Death Eater enter the living room. Harry recognized the deep voice as Tonks', and he hoped and prayed that whatever she was going to do would work.

Tonks bowed to the two Death Eaters, and they returned the gesture. As they bowed, Harry saw a familiar serpentine pendant fall forward with the torso of one of the men. The other one, Harry noted, had a long trail of silver-blond hair running down his back from a ponytail. Harry felt his skin prickle at the presence of Lucius Malfoy.

As Tonks straightened up from her bow, she extended her wand faster than Harry had thought possible, and with a loud shout of, "Stupefy!" both men were lying motionless on the floor. She quickly ran to the cage holding Uncle Vernon.

She made an interesting series of movements with her wand, and the blue cage seemed to melt from top to bottom, then disappeared entirely. She checked Uncle Vernon's pulse at the wrist before pulling out the quill Portkey. They both vanished from sight.

Tonks was back in less than a minute. She performed the same unlocking spell on Dudley's cage. She spoke to him quickly, telling him what to do. He didn't hesitate before grabbing the quill and fading away with Tonks to Grimmauld Place.

"Come on," Hermione said. "We need to get down there so we can go when Tonks comes back." Harry yanked down the Invisibility Cloak, and felt a wonderful rush of cool air hit his sweaty face. He and Hermione walked over to the cage that held Aunt Petunia.

"Aunt Petunia, are you all right?" Harry said. She nodded her head quickly, but did not say anything. "Tonks has taken Uncle Vernon and Dudley to a safe place," Harry continued. "She'll be back very soon to take us all there."

Then, several things happened all at once. Tonks Apparated back into the living room, but she tripped over the edge of the coffee table and fell with a loud crash. As she fell, her disguise faltered, and with a small pop, she changed back to a small woman with short brown hair.

"Damn," She said, pulling herself off of the ground. From nowhere, another fully hooded figure in a long black cloak came running into the room. He aimed his wand at the Death Eaters lying on the floor.

Harry could not get his wand out quickly enough. Tonks' red beam missed, gliding directly over his shoulder. She decided to move onto Petunia's cage, where she was performing intricate wand movements and yelling, "Harry! Hermione! You are going to have to do this. On my word, you must come on!"

Harry shot a Stupefy curse, but the wizard dodged it and it ricocheted off of a picture on the back wall.

Hermione was also firing spells in the direction of the new wizard, but he was effectively dodging them without firing any of his own. Somewhere in all of the commotion, Harry was aware of the word Enervate and a bright flash of light that Harry knew would only lead to trouble.

As the Death Eaters were getting up off the floor, Tonks shouted, "Come on!"

Harry grabbed Hermione by the wrist as they both moved quickly to where Tonks was waiting for them, quill out. Hermione was only paces behind him when he felt the heaviness of her body weight pull against his hand. She'd been struck with a spell. She was still awake, but all of the blood had drained out of her face as Harry noticed her knee was board-straight--unable to bend.

They were almost there. Harry could drag her. He saw Tonks, wand ready to spell the quill the instant he touched it. He had to touch that quill. He had to keep hold of Hermione. He had to. His finger was less than an inch away from the quill when Tonks started the spell. Last second, Hermione's weight became heavier as a spell struck her other knee.

Tonks and Aunt Petunia flickered from sight. Harry turned to see the face of Lucius Malfoy sneering at him, wand held high.

"Stupefy!" was the last thing he heard before, for the second time that night, everything around him went black.

-***-

The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes again was Hermione, feet away from him, bound to a kitchen chair. Her knees seemed to have been returned to normal. She was pale-faced and glaring at Lucius Malfoy. Harry's hands were also bound firmly behind him, and he was tied around his middle to another one of the kitchen chairs. He struggled against the bindings, but the ropes only seemed to get tighter as they cut painfully into his wrist. He didn't have his wand, and as he glanced around the living room, he could not see it anywhere.

The Death Eaters stood silently off to the side. Harry didn't know whether to be comforted at Snape's presence or entirely betrayed. He decided to throw a nasty look in his direction for good measure. The unmasked wizard still had his hood up so that his face was obscured in shadow.

"Mister Potter. You're awake. We are so pleased you decided to join us this evening." Malfoy's voice was oily, and he stalked, catlike, over to where Harry was scowling from his chair.

"The Dark Lord sends his regrets that he cannot be here right away. I'm afraid he won't be too pleased that you've taken away his Muggle toys. He was so enjoying watching your uncle's face as he tortured him. But I do believe you've given him another toy. How nice of you to bring your Mudblood friend along with you."

"Leave Hermione alone," Harry snarled. "It's me you want. Just let her go." He looked to Snape again, this time trying desperately to reach the eyes behind the mask. Was he really just going to let this happen?

The light, cool laugh that passed through Malfoy's lips seemed to linger in the air for a few moments before he spoke again. "Now, what would be the fun in doing that, I ask you?" His lips curled into an evil, Cheshire grin before he aimed his wand at Hermione.

"Crucio." Barely louder than a whisper, the curse crossed his lips almost lovingly. Harry watched in abject horror as the whites of Hermione's eyes became the only part of them he could see. Her body protested the curse hitting her in the middle of the chest. Her back was arched, and the flesh on her arms strained against the bonds around her. Her mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. She had been charmed into silence.

The ropes digging painfully into his arms only got tighter as Harry tried desperately to get to Hermione. "You BASTARD!" He screamed. "I'll kill you for this!"

Panic was welling up inside of him as the hopelessness of the situation started to become much too real. He did not possibly see how he was going to get out of this. In that moment, he truly hated Snape more than he'd ever hated him before. How could Snape just let this happen? Was he just going to watch as Malfoy killed her, if it came to that?

Malfoy lifted the spell and turned back to face Harry. "My," he said, clicking his tongue. "You are so predictable, Potter. Such the brave little hero you are. A shame it hasn't done any good. Pity you can't save anyone." Every drawled word dug into Harry's heart like a twisting knife.

Malfoy turned to the cloaked figure and said, "Well, the Dark Lord is expecting great things of you tonight. I think it's time for you to take up some responsibility for your noble destiny." Harry watched in horror as Lucius Malfoy pulled Harry's wand out from inside his robes and handed it to the wizard, who pushed back his hood to reveal the silver-blond hair and pointed chin of Draco Malfoy.

Draco's face was expressionless and even more devoid of color than usual. Harry could still see the faint yellowed remainder of the bruise on his jaw where he had hit him only days ago. Draco took the wand in his hand and looked down at it, running his fingers over the slightly nicked holly as if he'd never seen one before.

Lucius clasped his hands behind his back and inclined his head slightly as he spoke to his son. "You will come to find, Draco, that using another wizard's wand will give you a certain amount of power. Dark magic, as you know, has just as much to do with tearing at one's mental fabric as it does with causing physical pain. It would do Mr. Potter some deal of distress, I think, to know that his wand has hurt the Mudblood."

Harry boiled with hatred for Draco and Lucius Malfoy. He struggled again.

Draco was still holding the wand loosely at his fingertips, not looking at anything in particular. After a significant look from his father, Draco aimed the wand at Hermione.

"Inseco," he said.

The curse was loud and flew clumsily past his lips, but Lucius' smirk told Harry that Draco had done the thing properly. Harry first noticed Hermione's arm twitch sharply backward. He then noticed red, first a little circle of it just under her left shoulder. Then the color spread, soaking the sleeve of her shirt before dripping down the length of her arm to pool on the floor at her side. Her color faded to pasty gray as she winced at the pain. She then set her jaw and held her head a little higher.

Harry thought he saw Draco look beseechingly over to Snape, but that thought was gone in an instant, as Draco's manner became an exact copy of his father's--haughty, and pleased, and dangerous looking.

Malfoy stood watching for a moment before he took the wand from Draco and pointed it again, saying, "Sano." Then he said to Draco, "We can't have her bleed to death quite so early in the evening. We have much more important things that need attending to now." He once again handed Harry's wand to Draco, who continued to hold it inexpertly at his side.

At this, Lucius turned to Harry, and with a silent wave of his wand, Harry felt the bindings around his hands and waist disappear. This was his moment. He jumped from the chair, trying to get to Draco and his wand, but he was only up for a second before he felt his feet leave the ground. He was suspended four feet in the air and forced into a horizontal position.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter," Lucius drawled. "You didn't think you would be leaving so soon, did you?" Harry tried to move, but all he did was squirm uselessly, like an insect caught by poison.

Harry looked at Lucius with the nastiest look he could muster from his unusual angle. He tried once more to find Snape's gaze, but he couldn't get it. And with a supple flick of Lucius' wand, he was aware of cool air moving over his sweat-sticky skin. He was spinning and rising even higher. He had no idea what to expect, and a new kind of mortal terror tugged at a place somewhere deep in his chest.

Lucius waved his wand once more, and Harry was still. He tried to move. He tried to shift either to the right or the left, but his body would not obey his mind's orders. He simply hung there like a patient on an invisible operating table.

Then, Lucius said, "Draco, remove his shirt."

"What?" Draco said through a sputter.

"I believe you heard me correctly the first time. I trust there is no need for me to repeat myself."

Draco cast his eyes downward, and said softly, "Yes, Father."

Draco's shaky hands hesitated at Harry's sides for only a moment before he quickly grabbed at the hem of Harry's tee shirt. His fingers were icy as they brushed Harry's sides, just above the waistline of his jeans. As the shirt came over his head, Harry mustered all the venom he could manage through his fear and said, just audibly for Draco to hear, "I should have known you wanted to see me shirtless, Malfoy. Getting your jollies, are you?"

The familiar sneer that crossed Draco's face betrayed his urge to return the jibe with one of his own. Instead, he simply set his jaw with a deep exhale and looked away.

"Good. Now," Lucius said to Snape. "You may begin."

Harry could not see what was happening, but he heard the rustling of fabric and the dull clink of thick glass. He felt the air shift around him before he saw Snape come near.

Snape bent low over Harry's face and brought out some sort of metal instrument that looked like a wide, flat-ended spoon. He touched it to Harry's forehead, and Harry cringed as it drug just under his hairline, painfully close his still tender scar.

Snape held the flat spoon steady as he brought it over to a glass phial and carefully measured drops of sweat he added to the container. Snape returned, touched the tip of his wand to the side of Harry's cheek and muttered a spell Harry had never heard before.

Without warning, Harry's mouth filled with saliva so quickly that if he did not spit, he would choke. Snape caught it with a new phial. He again measured out what he needed and added it to the sweat before returning and whispering the same spell Draco used earlier on Hermione. Harry's palm and forearm stung, as though he'd badly cut it with a kitchen knife. Snape let blood drip from Harry's left hand into the container for a few seconds before healing the laceration.

Snape took the mixture of Harry's sweat, blood, and saliva and poured it into a shallow pewter basin marked with runes around the rim. As he added other powders and dried herbs, and Harry wished that he'd paid more attention in Potions or Herbology, so that he would know what was happening.

Snape said a spell over the mixture and then said, "It's ready."

With a flick of his wand, every light in the house went dark, and Harry could only see vague silhouettes from the light coming in through the curtains.

"Very well," Lucius drawled, looking into the potion. "Very well, indeed."

He pointed his wand into the potion and began to swirl. As he did, the potion glowed deep red before turning the purple-blue color of black light, eerily illuminating the room with a sort of non-light, which turned the shadows and dark places deeper. Lucius continued to swirl as he lifted his wand out of the basin, bringing whatever was inside with it.

At first, it was a shapeless mass of churning light, but as Malfoy continued, the wand movements began to take a form that looked very much like writing in the air. Harry could see bits of light break away from the source as they formed markings of some sort--intricate, and beautiful, and terrifying.

Soon, the markings were all that were left, glowing blue and reflecting against Aunt Petunia's carefully framed family portraits and watercolors. Malfoy continued, pulling markings together to form new symbols and then breaking them apart. Eventually, there were only three marks left, and with a swirl of Malfoy's wand, they were combined into what looked to Harry like a sideways figure eight, marked on all sides with wide V's.

The new symbol spun around quickly, and Lucius seemed to catch it with his wand. He guided it over Harry's body, and began speaking very quickly in Latin. With his last word, he touched the tip of his wand to Harry's chest. The glowing symbol sank into Harry's skin, just over his heart.

It was cold at first, but then it became an almost unbearable burning. Harry felt the weight of the symbol sear his flesh like acid, and he shuddered at the waves of magic flashing through the blood in his veins. His eyes felt like they would either evaporate into nothingness or pop right out of his skull. And just when he thought the pain could get no worse, it all stopped.

The glow of the room died to dull night again before the electric lamps came on once more, shining so normally on everything and everyone in the room. Harry heard the refrigerator motor whir into life.

Malfoy waved his wand, and Harry was back in his chair, bindings again around his wrists. Harry felt the soft weight of his tee shirt in his lap an instant later.

Harry felt weak; every muscle in his body ached as though he'd spent all day on the Quidditch pitch instead of an evening tied to a chair on Privet Drive. He tried moving again, and found that his only restraints were the ropes around him. He thought about catching Hermione's eye, but he decided against it. He supposed it should be the least of his worries that she had seen him humiliated and topless, but he was embarrassed, worried, and scared out of his mind. Instead, he looked down at his chest. The symbol on his skin shone silver-white against the flesh around it, like the shimmering reflection of the moon on still water.

For a long while, Harry and Hermione sat in defeated silence and stillness. The Death Eaters stood vigilantly, muttering softly to each other occasionally. Harry felt too tired and weak to even watch the hands of the ticking clock on the mantle. He and Hermione exchanged glances every once in a while, but Harry did not speak. He did not want to think about what fate awaited them next.

It was sometime later when Harry heard Snape and Lucius Malfoy gasp, their hands moving to soothe the Dark Marks hidden beneath their sleeves. Instantly, his scar began to burn again, and the front door opened.

Lord Voldemort walked into the room. His long black robes swirled around his feet as he moved through the room, revealing a blood red inner lining that mirrored the color in his serpentine eyes. Snape and the Malfoys instantly fell to their knees.

"My Lord," they all said.

"You may rise," Voldemort said. "Has your mission been successful?"

"Indeed, My Lord," Lucius said, trying to hide his smirk and looking quite victorious. He guided Voldemort to Harry and pointed to the mark on his chest. Harry saw before he felt a thin, sickly white finger trace the brand on his skin. The touch sent waves of nauseating pain through his scar.

"I am well pleased," Voldemort said. "You shall be greatly rewarded."

At these words, Lucius Malfoy bowed low once more and rested on one knee. "Anything I might do in you service, Lord, is to please you."

Voldemort placed a skeletal hand on top of Lucius Malfoy's blond head. Malfoy then rose.

With an exaggerated look at Hermione, Voldemort said coolly, "I think it's time that Young Master Malfoy learns what it feels like to play a part in the purification of the Wizarding lines. Come, young Draco." He held out a bone-white hand in invitation.

Draco did not meet Lord Voldemort's eyes. Though his expression was guarded, all color drained from his face, and Harry could hear his shallow intake breath in a soft shudder. Lucius nodded curtly at him. Draco removed Harry's wand from inside his robes.

"Draco," Voldemort's cold voice rang out sharply in quiet room. "The Mudblood should first know the pain that her interference in our world has caused. Don't you think?"

At this, Draco swallowed hard. Even through the hardened features of his face, Harry could see a glossy layer of sweat there and the pulse point at his throat move rabbit fast. Draco lifted the wand slowly.

"Cr-" he faltered for a moment. He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. "Crucio!" he shouted. Hermione once again writhed in her chair, her small body convulsing in waves of pain.

Adrenaline pumped through Harry's veins as the weakness he felt earlier dissolved instantly into nothingness. He would not let this continue to happen.

Malfoy could only hold the curse for a few seconds.

"Finish her," Voldemort ordered.

Draco moved slowly and shakily as he raised the wand. He cleared his throat, and Harry thought, once again, that he saw him exchange a glance with Snape.

Harry could not bear to look at Hermione. He futilely continued to struggle against thick ropes. He could not handle another person he loved dying. There had to be something he could do.

Draco's ragged intake of breath was almost as loud as the next thing he said. "Avada-"

"NO!" Harry screamed. A framed portrait fell off the mantle and onto the floor. Malfoy started and looked at Harry. "YOU WILL NOT KILL HER, YOU WORTHLESS SON OF A BITCH!" Harry felt his face heat as he was consumed by grief and fear, panic, rage, and love. All of it was just too much.

BANG!

The glass on one of Aunt Petunia's pictures broke. Large, jagged pieces of broken glass were suspended in mid-air. As he struggled again, he felt the bonds around him dissolve into nothingness.

BANG! Another picture. And then another.

CRACK!

Hermione's chair splintered around her, and the ropes holding her in place became loose enough that they fell to her feet as she stood up.

Harry's mind was racing as he ran to Draco, who was looking ill, still standing in shock in the middle of the room. Harry hit him hard in the stomach as he desperately grabbed his wand out of his hand. He turned quickly. Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort had drawn their wands, but the pieces of glass kept them from coming physically closer.

"Obmolio!" Harry shouted, pulling Hermione close.

The thick shield encased them both and absorbed the light from the curses it was blocking. He felt Hermione's elbow in his ribs. She was pointing to the ground just on the other side of the shield. Her mouth formed the words, "My wand."

Harry concentrated as hard as he could at keeping the shield up as he shifted them forward. The wand was soon under the shield, and Hermione bent quickly to pick it up. They edged closer and closer to the front door.

"We have to run," Harry said to her. "I'm going to break the shield, and then we have to get out the door." Hermione nodded.

Harry grabbed hold of her hand, let the shield down, and wrenched open the front door. They were down the path. There was the loud sound of rushing blood in his ears as he and Hermione ran as fast as they could. He could see the long, black shadows of the Death Eaters coming for them. When he looked up, he saw Dumbledore, Tonks, and several other Order members standing in a row some yards ahead, held back by an magical barrier. He wondered if he and Hermione would be able to get through the other side.

The pounding sound of his feet on pavement stopped short when a spell hit him squarely in the back. In the split second before his body went entirely rigid, he noticed Hermione was hit with the same curse. No! He wanted to cry; he had not come this far just to be taken again.

"They're coming soon," whispered a voice close to his ear. He felt thin fingers place Harry's hand on Hermione's, and Harry felt something like a coin being pressed firmly into his palm.

Instantly, Harry felt an invisible string pull at his navel, and he and Hermione disappeared.

-***-

They landed with a jolt. Harry had his eyes shut--he didn't want to open them for fear of finding himself imprisoned at some Death Eater's headquarters. He felt Hermione squeeze his hand and let go, and he opened his eyes.

They were standing directly outside the Leaky Caldron.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. The material of her shirt was as rough as ripped cardboard where blood had dried. Harry noticed the ends of her hair, glued together in thick, red-brown clumps.

She nodded her head, but placed her fingertips to her throat, tapping.

"Oh, right," Harry said, and he ended the Silencing charm. "Better?"

Hermione cleared her throat gently. She hadn't looked this tired since third year when she hadn't slept for months.

"Yes, quite," she said weakly. "Thanks. Harry, we'd better get out of here."

Harry only thought about what he and Hermione must look like after they entered the pub and faced a room of silent patrons, gaping at them. He was still shirtless and grimy, covered in dried sweat and blood. Tom rushed over to them.

"Mister Potter! Miss! Is everything all right? Has there been another attack?"

"We just need to get home, Tom. I think everything is fine now. Can we use your Floo?"

"Of course, of course. This way," he said as he shuffled away.

They followed him through the front room to a fireplace in the corridor behind the bar. Tom offered them a pot of glittering powder. Harry took a handful, watched the flames go from warm gold to the color of emeralds, and said, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

The moment they emerged from the kitchen fire, he instantly reached up to grab his talisman.

"Damn!" Harry said.

"What? What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"My talisman. Malfoy must have taken it with my shirt. I need to let the others know we're back."

It was only then that Harry realized he was still clutching tightly to something in his left hand. The Portkey.

"Oh," was the only thing that he could say as he uncurled his fingers. He was looking at his Order talisman.

He took a deep breath and said, "Albus Dumbledore."

"Harry! Where are you?" Dumbledore's voice was more anxious sounding than Harry had ever heard it.

"Grimmauld Place, sir."

There was no answer other than a flash of Phoenix fire and a very worried looking Dumbledore standing before him.

-***-