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Chapter XI Harry blinked several times, once again thrust into the darkness that made up the combined psyche of Draco and himself. It was much the same as before, except now, the blackness seemed to have texture like fine silk, pitching and rolling around him, turning his stomach. His body frantically sought balance in this featureless world with no direction. It was horribly disorienting and panic swam around in Harry's chest. He forced it away. He had a reason for being here - he had to find Draco! Harry directed his mind around, searching for the Slytherin, but this time, unlike last time, he had no sound to guide him. The space surrounding him pulsed in unsteady deep beats, speeding up until one beat was no longer discernable from the next, then slowing down to the point where Harry had to wonder if the next would occur. He twisted in the darkness, the pulsing ringing in his ear, veering around to find something - anything - to guide him to what he sought. At last, he found Draco huddled some distance away, head bowed, his long, pale hair forming a curtain around his bare body, looking much worse than when Harry had seen him last. He was at his side in an instant. "You left me." Draco tilted his head up, his normally silver eyes now gray and lifeless, staring at him impassively, cold and empty. Harry shook his head. "I didn't," he said, once again sinking down by the smaller boy's side, wrapping Draco in his embrace. The boy stiffened briefly, then relaxed, leaning against Harry's chest. "I was pulled away." Draco shivered. "I'm scared," he admitted, his voice an abused whisper. Harry rested a hand on his cheek, encouraging him to continue. Draco talking was better than Draco not talking. At least it gave them someplace to start. "I've never been scared before. I thought I would be ready for it." "Ready for what?" Harry asked, perplexed, his fingers combing through Draco's hair. "My death." Harry stilled his movement, looking down at Draco with wide-eyed concern. "You're not going to die," he insisted. Draco gave him a small, sad smile. "We're all going to die, Harry," he said. "Honestly, I never expected to last this long. I thought, certainly, somebody would have gotten me before now. People like us - we don't live to be very old." "What do you mean, 'people like us?'" Harry asked, trying to keep his distress at Draco's resignation out of his voice. Draco shrugged. "A dark mark doesn't have to be real," he said softly, "for you to feel it burn. People in the middle always get run over. It's a war on two fronts, with no hope of victory in sight." Draco sighed. "My mother cried the day I was born." "You are not going to die!" Harry said again, clutching Draco to him as tightly as he could, the defeat surrounding the Slytherin almost overwhelming. "At least, not until I've kicked your ass for worrying me like this, so we can get old and gray and be surrounded by cats and a well-worn wizard's chess set while we argue about the weather and politics." Harry knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help it. It had the desired effect though. Draco looked up at Harry and smiled. "You've really thought this through," he said with a blink, grinning a little more in spite of himself. Harry nodded. "I have," he agreed. "And we can sit on our porch and throw curses at the kids who dare each other to run up and touch our door and also at the Prophet reporters who will no doubt still be camped out on our lawn, hoping for an exclusive." Draco laughed, then hissed, his body suddenly jerking with a pain Harry couldn't see. His fingers clawed into Harry's shoulder, his eyes screwed shut as he gnashed his teeth. "Oh, Merlin," he whispered. "Why won't it just end?" "It will," Harry promised. "We just have to find you and bring you home." Draco whimpered and shook his head. "I just wanted to help," he said, voice rough with agony. "It was all for Sesha... all of it." Harry furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "Who's Sesha?" he asked, determined to keep Draco talking, fearful he would fall into himself if he didn't. The Slytherin shook his head. "Not a 'who,'" he explained slowly, eyes still closed, the pain making it difficult for him to focus. "A 'what.' Students Exiled to Safe Harbors. It was my mother's idea. She and Father, they wanted to help the Slytherins, those who were like us, in the middle, to help them escape." "But why?" Harry asked. "Hogwarts is safe... isn't it?" "It's not safe, Harry," Draco said forcefully, looking up at him, eyes blazing with new life. "Aside from Severus, not a single person in the whole school gives a damn about us! We could all be dead and dust tomorrow and no one would shed a tear - hell, they'd probably be thrilled with all the extra space our dormitory could afford them." "That's not true!" Harry insisted, shaking his head. "When I was awake, I saw how upset everyone was at your disappearance! They were terrified, Draco! Terrified that you'd been killed or worse!" "Terrified that they could be next, more likely," he said bitterly. Harry held him close again. "You're underestimating them, Draco." The smaller boy shook his head. "They why did they make you leave?" he asked. Harry sighed. "They didn't understand," he explained. "They didn't know what had happened to me - only that I was unconscious. They used a potion to wake me up and it was only then that they realized that you were gone, but not because they didn't care! As soon as they found out..." Harry trailed off and Draco snapped his head up, red-rimmed eyes narrowing. "What?" he asked. Harry chewed his lip and debated lying, but Draco seemed to sense this and grabbed his arm. "What is it?" he asked again. "Truthfully." "They..." Harry began slowly, then tried the swallow the lump in his throat. "Dumbledore... he didn't want me to go back to sleep to find you." Draco gave a short bitter laugh, but Harry only tightened his embrace. "Not because he doesn't care," he tried to tell him, "but because he wasn't sure if it was safe or not." "This coming from the man who gives you an invisibility cloak and free range of the castle at night?" Draco asked, slightly incredulous. "The same man who lets you compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, even though there was no way you could be prepared? The same man who supposedly didn't even know servants of Voldemort were hanging around right under his nose, posing as teaching staff? Do you ever think he's been overly concerned with your safety, Harry?" "That's not..." Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. "That's not right... that's not possible... he cares.... he...." "Open up those myopic green eyes of yours and look around, Harry!" Draco cried. "There's something happening here, something terribly wrong. Hogwarts isn't safe - it hasn't been since we crossed the lake in first year! How many times have you had to fight for your life? How many times have you nearly died?" "That can't be..." Harry was at a loss. Draco couldn't be right about this. He just couldn't be! "It is, Harry," Draco insisted. "It is! It..." Draco gasped, his whole body wracked with spasms, and he cried out, a horse yell, muted as he buried his face in Harry's chest. Alarmed, Harry held him close until the pain passed and Draco lay limply in his arms, a few rogue tears crawling down his cheeks. "Why?" Draco finally asked. "Why are they doing this? Why won't they just kill me?" Harry steeled himself to get back to the task at hand - saving Draco. Everything else could wait. "People care about you Draco. I care, Professor Snape cares, and your parents... they're here. They sent me to find you." Draco looked up, exhausted silver eyes meeting worried green ones. "They're here? he asked, a spark of hope lighting Draco's eyes. "They're at Hogwarts?" "Yes," Harry told him gently. Draco frowned slightly. "Has my mother killed anybody yet?" Harry laughed. "No, not yet," he said, smiling, "though Madame Pomfrey looked a little worse for wear when I went back to sleep." Harry's expression grew more serious. "They love you Draco - your parents and Professor Snape. They've taken a great risk to help me find you. You've got to go back and open your eyes. You have to tell me where you are. Who attacked you? Can you see?" "I don't want to see," Draco told him. "I don't know who attacked me. It happened too fast and it was too dark. I can't go back.." "You have to," Harry said firmly. Draco let out a low moan and shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut. "You have to," Harry repeated, "so we can find you and make the pain stop." "It's worse there," Draco said wearily. "That's why I'm here." "I know, but..." Harry sighed. "Draco, please..." They were silent for a moment, the pulsing of the darkness beating around them. Harry realized with sudden clarity that it was Draco's heartbeat, which Harry could feel pounding through his chest, pressed so close to him, that led the beats, feeling and hearing the darkness speed its dizzying oscillation. Finally, Draco sat up and let out a deep breath, nodding more to himself than to Harry. "Okay," he said in a small voice. "Just be here when I get back." "I will," Harry promised. Draco faded from view. * * * * * * Severus paced the length of the hospital wing, his steps fast and jerky. Every now and then, he would glare down at Harry's prone form, then shake his head, mutter, and resume pacing. Narcissa watching him with concern from where she sat next to Harry's bedside, holding the Gryffindor's hand in her own. Lucius remained by the door to the wing, wand in hand, listening for any sound of movement in the hallway. Madame Pomfrey remained motionless on the floor where she'd fallen. "What's taking him so long?" Severus finally growled, glaring down at Harry. "I'm sure he's doing the best he can," Narcissa told him gently. "Gryffindors are like that. Although..." She paused, frowning. "This connection he's formed with my son... do you think it's safe?" Severus sniffed, then narrowed his eyes. "I don't know," he said darkly. "Draco's ability to combat his nightmares was improving - I can only assume it was because of the strengthening of his connection with Potter over there. Gryffindors are, by nature, riddled with good intentions. I don't believe he'll cause Draco any harm. If we didn't have the advantage of this connection..." "We might never be able to find him," Narcissa finished, her hand tightening around Harry's. "I swear to you, Severus, when I find who is responsible for harming my son..." She let the sentence hang, her eyes flashing with promised revenge. Severus nodded, then looked down as Madame Pomfrey groaned on the floor. He tapped her with his foot, then watched her reaction, satisfied that she wasn't waking up. "I feel responsible," he admitted guiltily, sinking down in a chair beside Narcissa. "If I hadn't let him help, if I hadn't let him stay behind..." "Draco's stubborn," Lucius said from where he was standing across the room. "It's not your fault, Severus. If anything, the blame falls on us. We should have sent him to Durmstrang instead." "But if I hadn't sent him out to the greenhouse tonight..." "Enough," Narcissa said quietly, though forcefully. Both men turned to look at her. She was staring down at Harry, her face pale, but her eyes determined. "No one is to blame except for the one who kidnapped our son. No matter who it is, no matter what it takes, that person will pay." The room fell silent, then Lucius sighed and nodded, turning back to listen at the door. "They will," he promised. "I just wish we knew where Draco was." * * * * * * The air was cold and damp, rushing into Draco's lungs with every shaky breath. His chest spasmed in agony, the mere movement of his chest as he gasped sending flashes of pain jolting through his body. He didn't dare open his eyes, afraid that he might not be alone, not wanting his captors to know he was awake. He instinctively knew, if he gained consciousness again, that they would do everything in their power to rectify the situation. The hard ground pressing into his body told him he was lying on stone - damp, cold stone at that. The sound of rhythmic, steady dripping reached his ears, each drop pounding in his head as though someone was striking him with a hammer. A brief shot of panic ran through his system as he imagined this just might be the case. Listening more closely, however, he knew he was alone. Draco cautiously opened one eye, then instantly regretted it. He was underground, in what appeared to be a basement of some kind. A small streak of light was shining right on his face, coming from a narrow, square window near the ceiling. The shards of light went straight from his eye to his brain and he winced, trying not to cry out. Gasping, he pushed himself up on his arms and off of his stomach, kneeling on the cold stone floor, squinting in the dim light. Then he looked down. "Oh, damn," he muttered before he could stop himself. He was completely naked from the waist up, his once stylish slacks the only thing left covering him, full of holes and tears. He vaguely remembered falling into the greenhouse and, after touching a deep cut on his arm and feeling glass crunching under the skin, he confirmed that fact. His body was littered with bruises and cuts and, raising a hand to his throbbing head, a rather large gash along his forehead. He looked down at the blood covering his hand and tried to stop his stomach from turning. His arms and legs kept jerking sporadically, the after-effects of the Crutacious curse, he remembered, and Draco didn't know if he could stand up. His knee and ribs still ached from the beating he'd taken from Bane and his crew. He let himself fall forward again, his palms spreading out on the damp stone, trying to clear his head. He needed to do what Harry asked, look around and figure out where he was being kept. He needed to help the others help him. He needed to clear his head and think. He needed to... "Draco, darling... what should you do if someone tries to take you away from us?" Draco squeezed his eyes shut, hearing his mother's voice in his head as clearly as if she was standing next to him, whispering in his ear. It was a conversation they had often in his youth, a warning and a course of action drilled into his head as soon as he could comprehend her words. His mind flew back to that time, not so long ago, relaxing in his mother's sitting room, the warm summer sun pouring in from the large bay windows overlooking his father's garden. He could almost imagine the smell of her perfume drifting around him as she held him close on her lap, a delicate hand stroking through his hair. "I scream, really loudly," he replied, resting his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. "Very good, my dragon," she said softly, placing a small kiss on his forehead. "And if someone takes you, what do you do?" The idea frightened Draco. He knew if he was taken away, it would be scary. He loved his mom, his dad, and Uncle Sevvy. He didn't want anyone to take him away. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If you don't come right away, I look around," he whispered. "And what do you look for?" Draco bit his lip, trying to remember the word. "I look for a... a... ward?" "That's right, my dear," she said, giving him a brief squeeze. "And do you remember what the wards looked like from the pictures Daddy and I showed you?" Draco nodded. "Good. Now, what do you do when you find the ward?" Draco grinned up at his mother. He knew this part. "I smash it!" he said proudly. His mother smiled and place another kiss on the top of his head. "That's perfect, my beautiful boy," she said, ruffling his hair. "You're very, very smart." Draco closed his eyes and nuzzled against his mother, smiling as she started singing him a soft song in a language he didn't understand, but still filled his heart with warmth. Draco opened his eyes again and forced himself to sit up. His legs shaking dangerously below him, he forced himself to his feet, only falling down twice before managing to stay standing. He stumbled over to the wall, preparing to lean against it, then stopped, afraid that the perimeter might be booby-trapped with curses to prevent his escape. He wished he had his wand and was really starting to wonder what happened to it. Come to think of it, what happened to the rest of his clothes? Draco scowled. They could kidnap him, beat him, curse him, and do other unspeakable things to him, but when somebody messed with his clothes, it was personal. Draco reviewed the last thought that ran through his head and mentally slapped himself. Not only was that ridiculously poufy, but it was incredibly inconsequential. He was starting to think whoever had attacked him must have hit his head a couple of times. Great, just great. Forcing down another wave a nausea, Draco immediately started doing what his mother had taught him to do - look for the ward. There must be one nearby, to so completely prevent the charms cast on him from giving out the necessary signal to alert his parents to his location. A rickety staircase led up to a thick, wooden door, leading up and out into what Draco guessed was a house of some kind. He left the stairs alone, uncertain if he could climb them and severely doubting the door would be kindly left unlocked just for him. There were no wards in sight and he had a sneaking suspicion that it was behind the door, completely out of reach. Instead, he swayed his way across the room, looking up at the narrow window. It was too small for him to fit through, but the angle of the sun streaming through it told him it was either late morning or early evening. Of course, unknowing how long he'd been unconscious and also not even certain what country he was in made it difficult to make any guess just based on that alone. He had to see what was out that window. He scanned the room again, then blinked, and smiled. Propped up against the wall was an old, industrial, metal bookcase, leaning a bit precariously to the side, but looking sturdy enough to hold his slight form. He walked over to the bookcase, lifting it slightly, testing its weight. It was light enough to move, but doing so would make far too much noise. He backed away, sitting on the floor, frowning at it. If he only had his wand, he could cast a simple levitation charm, silently move it to where he needed it, and climb it like a ladder. He glared at the bookcase, just wanting it to move more than anything else in the world right now. The bookcase jumped two feet off the ground and Draco felt his jaw slack open. Then, he grinned. * * * * * * Ron watched Hermione pacing back and forth, a concerned expression on his face. The Great Hall was now devoid of tables, the ground littered with squashy purple sleeping bags as it had been during second year. Everyone was sitting together in small groups, whispering amongst themselves, eyeing the reduced number of Slytherins with suspicion. Hermione refused to sit still, her hand going up to tug at her hair every now and then. "Harry will be alright," he told her. She turned to him, eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I should have told when I knew," she said brokenly, sitting down across from Ron. He raised an eyebrow. "Told them what?" he asked. "About Harry and Malfoy - the bond between them... I knew, Ron!" she cried. Ron's eyes went wide in surprise, then he glared at her. "You knew and you didn't tell me?" he said loudly. Hermione made a hushing motion with her hand, trying to keep him quiet. "Why didn't you tell me?" he hissed "I only confirmed it yesterday," she insisted. "I would have told you, I promise." Ron scowled. "Yeah, right." "Don't do this now," Hermione snapped. "Harry's hurt and a student has been attacked." "It was just Malfoy," Ron grumbled. "I could have been anyone," Hermione returned. Ron bit his lip but didn't reply. * * * * * * "Everyone, listen up!" Dumbledore was facing the gathered teachers, who had finished their surveys of the grounds and had come up empty handed. "There's nothing left for us to do out here," he continued. "Everyone, return to the Great Hall and help the teachers left behind to calm the students." "What are we going to tell them?" Professor Sprout asked, wringing her hands. Her face was torn with grief, guilt, and worry. "Nothing, right now," the Headmaster replied. "There's no sense in worrying them, although since we don't want anyone to know, I'm sure they're already aware of what's transpired. If they ask, tell them we have the situation under control and we're doing everything in our power to resolve it." The teachers murmured in agreement and started the slow trek back to the castle, talking softly amongst themselves. "Sir..." Remus began slowly, his hand resting on Snuffles' head. Dumbledore turned to look back at the werewolf, the old man's expression unreadable in the dim light. "Sir," Remus said again, "the situation really isn't under control. Perhaps it would be best to get the Ministry involved. For all their incompetence, they do have resources we lack. It might help us find Mr. Malfoy." "I already explained to you why I don't want the Ministry to get involved, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore said shortly. "I know," Remus replied patiently, "and as you know, I'm not a huge fan of them myself. Their anti-werewolf policies are the greatest source of my problems. But the child's life is at stake, if he isn't already dead. This goes beyond our personal views." Dumbledore sighed. "Sometimes, Mr. Lupin, you have to know when it's best to push and when it's best to let things go. All things considered, we have more to worry about than Mr. Malfoy's health." Remus gaped at the older man, unable to speak for several moments. "W-What?" he finally managed. "What are you talking about?" "Students like Mr. Malfoy are a liability to this school and to all the other children under our care," Dumbledore said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And while I'd like to think we can save all of them, I've been around long enough to know a lost cause when I see one. If he hadn't been attacked here and now, then it would have happened the next year, or over the summer. We know of the elder Mr. Malfoy's involvement with Voldemort. We're probably better off now that the younger is gone." "Sir, I respectfully disagree!" Remus cried. "I taught Draco two years ago. That boy has amazing potential! When I exposed the students to the Boggart, he didn't see a monster or a demon. He saw Death, Headmaster, and not his own! He saw his friends' deaths and his family's. That alone tells me he possesses the motivation to fight for our side, to help us in our battle. He doesn't want to see anyone die any more than the rest of us!" "And what happens when our battle leads us to his father, Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore asked. "What happens when we are forced to kill the man he most respects?" The Headmaster shook his head. "Young men have become dark wizards for less." "Sir..." Remus began again, but Dumbledore held up his hand, stilling him. "If Mr. Malfoy can be found alive," he said, "then we will accept him back here with open arms and continue to work with him, to help drive him away from the path he is so destined to take, then hope for the best. If, however, he is dead..." Dumbledore paused, then sighed. "Then perhaps that is the best for all." The Headmaster inclined his head towards the castle. "Return with the rest now, Mr. Lupin, Snuffles," he addressed them both. "Check on Harry, if you please. I will be joining you shortly." Dumbledore turned around and walked into the darkness towards the Forbidden Forest. Remus watched him go in shock. Next to him, the werewolf felt a rustling, then a warm arm wrapped around his shoulders. Remus looked over a Sirius. "What's going on?" he asked. "I don't understand any of this." "Nor do I," Sirius murmured. "Perhaps he knows something we don't -has a plan he hasn't revealed to us. He's done it before." "Sometimes, he makes my spine crawl," Remus replied, his golden eyes narrowing after the Headmaster's vanished form. "I don't think the wolf trusts him." Sirius frowned and ran a soothing hand up and down his mate's back. "We have to trust him," he said softly. "We don't have a choice." Remus turned to look at Sirius. "Draco is an amazing child. He has so much promise." "I thought he was always giving you a hard time when you taught here," Sirius reminded him, a little confused. Remus laughed. "Did he ever!" he said with a grin. "Always making derogatory comments behind my back, complaining in class, showing up late... But he was a quick learner and sharp as a claw. He always brought up thoughtful questions and seemed to be two steps ahead of me at all times. That, and I think he knew I was a werewolf from the day I arrived." Remus frowned. "He never told anyone and I had a feeling his rough edges were just an act. It's not surprising - given the House he lived in, he did need to protect himself." "It's a shame we didn't do a better job of protecting him ourselves," Sirius added darkly. Remus nodded sadly and Sirius sighed. "We should go check on Harry." "Yes, we should," Remus agreed. Sirius gave him a brief hug, then stepped back, his form wavering for a few seconds before the black, shaggy dog appeared in his place. Together, the two of them walked briskly back to the castle. * * * * * * The bookcase looked almost obscene, bouncing its way across the room through midair. Draco squinted his swollen eyes in concentration, trying to keep the up and down motion to a minimum - not only out of fear it might touch the ground and alert his wakefulness to his captors and not only because the oscillation was making his very delicate stomach unhappy, but mostly because it looked sloppy. Malfoys were never sloppy. Current state of dress excepted due to dire circumstances, Draco amended in his mind. Still, wobbliness aside, Draco was pleased, not to mention astonished, with his progress thus far. He'd known almost immediately that charms was going to be his worst subject when it took him almost the entire first class just to get his feather to twitch a little. Professor Flitwick said, that while his intonation of Wingardium Leviosa was superb, his focus was extremely lacking. Curious still, his ability to cast curses was well above board, while the simplest charms eluded him. It all had to do with mindset, Flitwick had insisted, but Draco still struggled, try as he might. Now, however, the bookcase responded to will with great precision, wandless no less! "Thank you, Gryffindorks," Draco said softly, his voice horse and scratchy. After much careful maneuvering, the bookcase hovered just below the window. With great care, he set it down, the touch on the floor barely making a sound. The strain of his actions hit him full force as soon as the spell ended. Draco bit back a groan as his head pounded in agony. His body felt on fire, every injury magnified what seemed like a hundred fold or more. His knee, injured in the fight... the day before? He'd lost track of time... throbbed with every heartbeat, possibly broken, his ribs protesting with every breath. The cuts and bruises on his arms and legs burned as though he was rolling on lit coals and his limbs resumed their frantic twitching, neurons firing randomly, offended at the abuse they'd suffered while under the Crutacious curse. He was tempted to let the unconsciousness his brain so wanted over-take him, but looking at the window and the bookcase, moved through the strength of his own mind and determination, he knew he had to go on. He might not be able to reach the wards hiding him from his parents' view, but he could at least give them the information they needed to pinpoint his location. Besides, the more he thought about it, he realized dying now would just tick him off. Draco wasn't a big fan of making anybody happy and he certainly had no desire to give his captors the satisfaction of sending his soul to hell. He'd go when he was damn good and ready, thank you very much. Shaking with new resolve, Draco struggled to his feet, refusing his body the option of falling again. The walk of ten feet across the room to his makeshift ladder was pure pain with every step, but he persisted. Finally, he reached the bookcase, praying to whichever gods that listened to bad-tempered Slytherins that it would hold his weight as he clutched his aching fists around the side supports. He climbed his way up, each step making the old shelving unit groan in protest. He turned his eyes toward the stairs, but the door remained closed. Continuing his upward climb, Draco rested both hands on the edge of the window, peering through the crusted, dirty glass, then blinked. "Well, that's odd," he murmured, raising an eyebrow in surprise. * * * * * * No one was speaking in the Hospital Wing. With each passing minute that Harry did not awaken, the mood grew more and more tense. Madame Pomfrey remained still where she had fallen, Narcissa's spell powerful enough to knock down an elephant for at least twenty-four hours, or so Narcissa claimed when Severus had asked her earlier. He sat by her side, watching her watch Harry, hoping that he would open his eyes soon and tell her where her son was being kept. "God dammit!" Lucius suddenly shouted, banging his fist into the wall by the door. Narcissa and Severus exchanged a glance, the Potions Master rising from his chair to stand by his friend. He rested what he hoped was a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder. "He's okay," Severus assured him. Lucius turned to look at his friend, blue eyes glittering with worry, frustration, and anger. "What if he's not?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly with repressed emotion. He looked down, his turning knuckles white as he clutched his wand. "This... all of this is my fault." "No one is to blame," Severus insisted, ignoring the twinge of guilt that wrapped itself around his heart. "I am," Lucius snapped. "I'm a selfish fool." He looked over at his wife, who was watching him with concern. "I should have let you go," he told her. "I should have let you take our son and disappear." "And never see you again?" Narcissa returned, silver eyes flashing in anger. "It was my choice to marry you, my choice to raise our child with you, my choice to stay - with you, Lucius!" Severus watched warily as the old argument between them started to escalate. He was never sure if he should intervene. His usual role in this was to gather Draco in his arms and take him out of the room until they were each done blaming themselves for the situation they were trapped in. He looked between the two, clutching his fists at his sides as they continued sniping at one another, debating with himself about what to do. As it turned out, he didn't have to do anything. At that moment, somebody in the hallway started pushing on the magically sealed door. The two worried parents stopped arguing, Lucius raising his wand, ready to battle any intruder, Narcissa rising from her chair and doing the same. The three of them took a collective deep breath and prepared for the worst. * * * * * * "What the hell?" Snuffles whined as Remus continued to pound on the door, pushing on the handle with all of his strength - quite a bit of strength, given his heritage. He stepped back with a frown, pulling out his wand and muttering a spell under his breath. The door took on a bright, yellow glow. Remus felt a rush of air at his side and, suddenly, Sirius was there. "It's locked," Sirius stated. Remus looked aghast. "What are you doing?" Remus hissed, darting glancing looks around the hallway. "Someone could see you!" "Everyone's in the Great Hall," Sirius replied distractedly, running his hands along the door. "Why would the nurse lock this?" "You hope everyone is in the Great Hall," Remus went on, glaring at the taller man. Sirius looked up, met Remus' angry eyes, and shrank back. He widened his eyes a bit and... oh, for Merlin's sake, he was pouting! Remus gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Do NOT give me the puppy-dog face," he warned. Sirius persisted. Remus threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, for the love of... Let's just get this door open!" "You're the one with the wand," Sirius reminded him. Remus shot him a look. "And don't you forget it," he replied with a small smirk. Sirius groaned. * * * * * * "What are they doing out there?" Severus asked as the sound of yet another bang came through the door. The three of them had long since dropped their defensive stances, looking at the door with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "This is ridiculous," Lucius said with a sigh. He looked over at his wife. "Can you see who it is?" She nodded. "Give me a moment," she said, covering her eyes with her hands. "Voyez par la porte," she whispered, then pulled her hands away, her eyes glowing a bright white. "The werewolf," she told them, "and the Animagus." Lucius frowned at the door as yet another bang reverberated throughout the room. "How powerful of a locking charm did you use?" he asked his wife. She merely raised an eyebrow in response. "Should we do something?" Severus asked, looking at the door with concern. "They've been at it for about five minutes already. With that kind of noise, they're sure to attract somebody competent." "Perhaps you're right," Lucius agreed, thoughtfully rubbing a hand along his chin. "I think I have an idea." The two men turned to see Narcissa smiling, a small, wicked smile, and even through the spell, they could see a knowing look in her glowing eyes. * * * * * * Remus dropped his wand to his side, glaring at the door. "This isn't working," he declared. "Obviously," Sirius said dryly. "Well, if you've got a better idea..." "As a matter of fact, I do." Sirius took a few steps back, rolling up his sleeves. Remus sighed and followed suit. "Ready?" he asked. Remus sighed again. "Ready." "Okay," Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "On the count of three. One... Two..." * * * * * * Narcissa held her wand aloft, eyes still glowing from the spell, and waited patiently. "'Cissa?" Lucius asked. "What are you..." "Move away from the door, you two," she instructed them and they quickly did as they were told. Without warning, Narcissa waved her wand and uttered a few ancient words, the locking charm on the door dissipating in an instant. "THREE!" The door flew open, followed by two equal shouts of surprise as Remus and Sirius tumbled into the Hospital Wing, tripping on top of one another in a disorganized heap. Severus looked down at them and shook his head. "Idiots," he announced. Lucius closed and re-locked the door. "Ow," Remus muttered around a mouth-full of Sirius' hair. "Will you get off of me?" "Right," Sirius agreed, dragging himself to his feet, Remus following suit. They both looked a little red-faced and discombobulated. After a moment, they remembered why they were there. "What are you three doing to Harry?" Sirius cried, seeing his godson's still form on the bed. "He's sleeping," Narcissa informed them, blinking her eyes to remove the spell on them. "Or you did something to him!" Sirius shouted, taking a step forward. Narcissa moved in front of the bed, blocking Harry from view, wand still raised. The wolf in Remus shuddered. He grabbed Sirius' arm, preventing him from going forward. "Stop," he hissed. "It's not safe!" "Harry is fine," Severus told them, "and he volunteered to help us locate Draco. You'll leave him be." As nervous as the look on Narcissa's face was making the two former Gryffindors, Severus was something they knew how to handle. "You probably talked him into it!" Sirius growled, jerking his arm out of Remus' grip, advancing on the Potions Master. "The Headmaster said..." "The Headmaster is a fool," Lucius interjected. "Harry wanted to help, so we let him." "Don't you dare talk about Dumbledore that way!" Sirius shouted, raising his fists. "He only..." "Poughkeepsie!" All arguments stopped and everyone turned around to see Harry sitting up on the bed, rubbing his forehead, eyes very wide and green without his glasses on. He looked at the gathered adults, who were looking at him with a combination of bafflement and concern. Narcissa lowered her arm and put a gentle hand on his own. "What was that?" she asked him. "Poughkeepsie!" Harry repeated earnestly. "Draco's in Poughkeepsie!" "Poughkeepsie?" Remus echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. "Where the hell is Poughkeepsie?" Lucius asked, also confused. "New York," Harry replied. "Poughkeepsie, New York. They have him in some kind of basement or cellar. He was able to figure out where he was by looking out a window. There's a billboard down the road that says something like, 'Welcome to Historic Poughkeepsie' and there are New York license plates on all the cars." "Is he alright?" Narcissa asked. "Yes," Harry said, nodding his head, then squeezed his eyes shut. "No, yes, I don't know! He's injured and in a lot of pain, but he's thinking more clearly. He kept going on about a floating bookcase or something. He seemed to be really excited about it. He said he thinks his leg is broken, but he wouldn't tell me much more than that. It's hard to tell, because he projects himself differently in his mind. He said he didn't know who took him and that they didn't come back while he was looking around. Oh, and he said he couldn't find the ward or something." Narcissa nodded. "Thank you, Harry," she said sincerely. "Lay back and rest now." "But I want to find him!" Harry cried, even as Narcissa pushed him down. She smiled. "You've already helped a great deal," she replied. "Now, let us handle the rest." Harry sighed, but nodded, feeling exhausted. He looked across the room and blinked. "Sirius!" he said, smiling weakly at his godfather. "You're not a dog!" "No," Sirius agreed, quickly crossing the room, Remus on his heels, the two hovering over the boy. "No, I'm not." He have Harry a big hug. Narcissa stepped away as the two men enjoyed their little family reunion, going over to stand by her husband and friend. "I'm going to get him," Narcissa informed them. Lucius shook his head. "Not alone," he said. "It's too dangerous. I'm going with you." "No, you're not," she told him. "You can't afford to allow yourself to be put into a situation where you could compromise your relationships with either the Ministry or the Death Eaters. How else will Severus get the information that he needs to pass along concerning the activities of Voldemort's minions? We still don't know if it was Aurors or Death Eaters who took our son." She narrowed her eyes. "Either way, you cannot be involved." "And you can be?" Severus asked. "Everyone knows who you are, Narcissa. There's no great leap in logic required to tie the two of you together." She gave them both a mild look. "You're assuming," she began slowly, "that anyone I happen to run across who is involved with my son's kidnapping will survive long enough to report it was me." Severus and Lucius exchanged a long look. Finally, the older man sighed and nodded. "Just be careful?" he asked, stepping forward and giving her a hug. She returned it gladly, pressing her cheek against her husband's, placing a small kiss near his ear. "I will be," she promised, stepping back. She gave a quick hug to Severus, then nodded once more to them both, closing her eyes and vanishing without a sound. Across the room, Harry gasped. "How did she do that?" he asked, Lucius and Severus looking over to meet the astonished looks on the other three's faces. "You can't apparate inside the Hogwarts' grounds! It's impossible!" "Narcissa has all sorts of hidden talents," Lucius replied cryptically, going to sit down in a chair across the room from Harry's bed. "It's best not to question them." Harry opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, frowning. "Can she save Draco?" he asked quietly. Lucius smiled. "She may be the only one who can," he replied. The Hospital Wing fell silent. Until a few minutes later, at which point Remus asked, "Oh, is Madame Pomfrey alright?" The nurse slept on. prologue, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven, part twelve back? |