Dealing with Danger
Chapter 22: Queen the Pawn (Year 3)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 22: Queen the Pawn
Minerva McGonagall had watched Albus Dumbledore face down vampires, Death Eaters, transformed werewolves, dementors, dragons, Inferi, and Lord Voldemort himself, all without ever losing his aplomb.
But here he stood in the corridor, seemingly unable to speak the words which would open the door to his office. Unable to go upstairs and tell four people that he had failed to find their children.
"Albus, they must know," she said quietly. "And you found out something — it’s more than anyone else has done..."
"Three times, Minerva." She could barely hear his voice. "Three times in as many years I have failed these people. They entrust their children to me, believing that I can keep them safe, and three times in three years their children have been in harm’s way, in danger of dying, here under my supposed protection. Perhaps I am too old..."
"Nonsense," said Minerva sharply. "Pull yourself together, Albus. You’ve done things no one thought were possible — how many times do you think those children would have been endangered if you hadn’t been there? You’re an extraordinary man, but you’re still a man, and every man has his limits. Every man makes mistakes. Now go upstairs and tell those people what they deserve to hear."
Albus straightened, lifting his head. "Yes. I shall." He gave her a small smile. "Although the news I bear is hardly what they deserve to hear, I think you would agree. Peppermint Toad," he said to the gargoyle.
Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress ascended to the office together.
xXxXx
"It’s better than nothing, I suppose," said Aletha. "It certainly narrows things down a lot. But a fifty-mile radius around the Disapparition point still covers a lot of ground."
"Teams of mixed Aurors and DMLE personnel are searching every house within the area as we speak," said Dumbledore, sitting down at his desk. "Hogsmeade itself has been thoroughly searched, every building to which they could reasonably have access explored."
"Reasonably?" repeated Sirius. "We’re talking about Death Eaters here, Albus. Reason was never high on their priority list."
"Be that as it may," said Minerva, "a more careful search was made of the buildings near the spot where Peter Pettigrew was seen a few months ago. Unfortunately, nothing was turned up there — no one had Apparated in or out within the last two hours."
"You’ve still done a lot, Albus," said Danger. "If I recall correctly, tracing how far someone Apparated just from studying the place they Disapparated from is supposed to be difficult verging on impossible. I’m fairly sure who came up with a way to do it, and on short notice too."
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I thank you, Danger. Remus, are you well?"
"As well as can be expected." Remus reached around and took Danger’s hand. "I don’t foresee any problems, if that’s what you’re asking. Not as long as we stay close."
"Not a problem," said Danger, joining her other hand to the clasp.
"I’ll get the note to the Pride," said Aletha, crossing the room to pick up a piece of parchment from the stack sitting next to Remus. "Your hands probably hurt about now."
"Not that much. But thank you."
Aletha nodded, already writing. "Who should I address it to?"
"I’ve been sending mine to Ginny..."
xXxXx
Ginny tore the note open eagerly. "They have something!" she nearly shouted. "They didn’t go more than fifty miles from Hogsmeade — and there are Aurors and everyone else out looking in all that area now!"
"Yes!" shouted Neville, pumping his fist in the air.
Meghan squealed happily. "Luna, did you hear?" she said, sliding off the bed and running to Luna’s. "Did you hear? They know where Draco and Harry and Hermione are — or where they’re not — and they’re going to find them! They are!"
Luna didn’t answer.
"Luna?" Meghan shook the older girl by the shoulder. "Luna, are you all right?"
Still no answer.
Meghan made to touch Luna’s wrist, then stopped, looking worried. "Should I?" she asked Neville and Ginny.
"It should be safe," said Neville. "You’re not related to her by blood. That was how the curse on Draco hurt you, through your blood. So you should be able to help her."
Meghan took Luna’s hand. "Luna, wake up," she said. "There’s good news, sort of, and you should hear it."
"I heard it," said Luna, opening her eyes. "The searchers know where they aren’t. But they don’t know where they are. And they’re looking in the wrong places."
Ginny leaned forward. "Do you know what the right places are?" she asked carefully. Luna’s eyes looked a bit more unfocused than usual...
"I don’t think I do. Let me think about it a minute." Luna closed her eyes again.
"Is she listening to something?" Meghan whispered to Neville.
"No, I’m trying to remember something I listened to a long time ago," said Luna without opening her eyes. "On the train, after the dementor left. I heard a lot of different things. Things different people had to do. I think they were meant for tonight."
Ginny held very still, not wanting to disturb Luna’s thinking. It was hard work. Mingled fear and hope kept making her want to jump up and run around the room, yelling, or else hex something, or someone. Preferably whoever had taken her friends.
"I don’t know where they are," said Luna finally. "But someone else does. They just need to remember that they know, or have it told them a different way. And Draco and Hermione will need help."
She opened her eyes and looked directly at Ginny. "You have to send them help. Neville can help you with it. He can make you invisible while you go up to the Tower and out to Hagrid’s and come back again. But you’d better hurry. You can only walk. You have to send them faster help."
"What about Harry?" asked Neville. "How can we help him?"
"We can’t." Luna looked at the next bed over. "But Ron can. Ron knows how to find him."
"But he’s asleep!" Meghan looked as if she might cry. "He can’t tell us anything while he’s asleep!"
"So we have to wake him up," said Ginny. "It shouldn’t be too hard."
"He’s under a potion! He won’t wake up until it wears off, or someone gives him the antidote!"
"And there isn’t anyone here who can do that," said Ginny ironically. "No, there’s no one here who knows about Healing potions, or the spells that Healers use to give them to people who’re asleep..."
Meghan’s expression reversed course with magical speed. "I’ll be right back," she said, and sped down the ward.
"But what are you supposed to do?" said Neville to Ginny. "Go up to the Tower, down to Hagrid’s, and back. Why?"
"To send them help," said Ginny, thinking hard. "Help that moves faster than I can, because I can only walk..."
And then she knew. "Got it," she said, jumping up. "Neville, can you make me invisible to human beings but not to animals?"
"Sure. Why?"
"Because I know who’s supposed to help Draco and Hermione. And he’s not human."
xXxXx
The Headmaster’s office had fallen into an uncomfortable silence. The portraits on the wall had ceased to pretend to sleep and were waiting for news as avidly as anyone. Minerva had her wand out and was transfiguring a piece of parchment into a Galleon and back again, over and over. Dumbledore stroked Fawkes, who crooned softly.
As Sirius passed the portrait of his great-great-grandfather for the umpteenth time, he suddenly swore loudly. Everyone, including the portraits, jumped.
"I can’t take this," Sirius said, stalking into the center of the office. "I can’t take it anymore." He pointed at the clock on the wall. "If there isn’t news in five minutes, I’m going out there and look for them myself."
"Sirius, be reasonable," said Minerva, standing up. "What could you hope to do that isn’t being done already?"
"I don’t know. But I can’t handle just sitting here and waiting. I have to do something. I have to. I can’t just sit here and wait and find out later that I could have done something, if I only tried, and now it’s too late and it’s happened already..."
Aletha got up from her chair. "This is not like James and Lily," she said. "There’s nothing any of us could have done differently to keep this from happening."
"Oh, really?" Sirius turned to the fireplace, looking at Remus. "Nothing any of us could have done?"
Remus looked away. "I’m sorry, Sirius," he said very quietly. "You may never know how sorry."
"Oh, I may never know," Sirius mocked. "I may never know, when my godson’s out there about to die, and you’re the one who let Malfoy take him out of the castle without even having to work at it."
"Sirius, don’t do this," Danger warned, half-rising.
"I’ll do whatever I damn well please—"
"You will not."
The voice stopped everyone cold. Dumbledore was on his feet, his eyes transfixing Sirius. "This is my office, Sirius Black, and you will be courteous to the other people here or you will leave."
"Fair enough. I’ll leave." Sirius headed for the door and yanked it open. "And good luck finding them sitting here on your backsides!" he called over his shoulder.
The door slammed shut.
"Excuse me for a moment, everyone," said Aletha, marching across the office. "I believe a lesson on manners is indicated."
"Letha, it’s not important," Remus began, but was cut off by the second closing of the door.
"I guess she thinks it is," said Danger.
xXxXx
Half the Pride stood in front of the gargoyle which guarded the Headmaster’s office. They knew that a password would make it spring aside and allow them access. They did not know what that password currently was.
Meghan stepped forward and put her hand on the carved stone. "Please, won’t you let us in?" she said beseechingly. "We need to get inside and talk to my parents. It’s important."
Something rumbled behind the wall. Meghan jumped back in surprise as the gargoyle sprang aside. "It worked!" she said happily. "Come on!"
"—self-centered idiot and listen to me!"
"Or not," said Ron, looking around wildly from where he leaned on Neville. "Hide."
The three of them and Luna scrambled into a cross-corridor just in time as the wall split open.
"I’m a self-centered idiot? Who’s sitting up there feeling sorry for himself, and who’s planning on going and actually doing something about this?" Meghan stared as her Dadfoot leapt off the spiral staircase backwards, so he wouldn’t have to stop glaring at Mama Letha.
"You know perfectly well Remus would be out there himself if he had any reasonable idea where to go!"
"Reasonable. There again with reasonable. I’m done being reasonable. It’s time to get unreasonable here, and I’m going to do it, and anyone who stands in my way can just go and—"
"Dadfoot?" said Meghan tentatively.
Her Dadfoot jumped and spun. "Pearl? What are you doing here?"
Mama Letha came to look into the corridor. "Ronald Weasley," she said, hands on her hips. "You are supposed to be in bed."
"Sorry, Mrs. Letha," said Ron. "But I had to come."
"And why exactly did you have to come?"
Ron took a deep breath. "Because I think I know how you can find them. Or at least find out where they are."
xXxXx
Remus looked around, startled, as the door crashed open again. "Ron’s got something," announced Sirius, levitating an embarrassed-looking Ron into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore’s desk. "Go on, tell them."
Ron ducked his head for a second. "I did it last year," he said. "Without meaning to. I turned my pendants into locators. They showed us where Ginny was. One of the jewels got brighter when we got closer. So I thought someone could do that again, only with a map — because you know the general area where Harry and Hermione and Draco are, so you could hold the pendants over the map and move them and watch the light to see when it gets brighter."
"Dowsing," said Aletha. "Magical dowsing. It ought to work. But the jewels are one use only, and it’s a red one that’s required..."
"I’d better do it," said Remus, standing up. "Albus, do you have a map of this area?"
One flick of Dumbledore’s wand cleared his desk, and a second conjured a large map on it. "Thanks," said Remus, taking off his pendants. "What do I have to do, Ron?"
"Just hold them, and think about the people you want to find, and wish you had a way to find them. That’s all I did."
Remus nodded and closed his hand around the pendants. It took no effort at all to think of his missing cubs — it was all he’d been doing for the last fifty minutes — and wishing he had a way to find them was even less work than that. Show me where they are, he willed. Lead me to them.
Red light flashed between his fingers. Quickly, Remus took his hand away and held the pendants by their chain over the map. One of the red jewels glowed with an internal light, brightening and dimming as he moved it back and forth.
"Brighter means closer, I take it, Mr. Weasley?" said Minerva, staring at the pendants in fascination.
Ron nodded. "Just like playing Hot and Cold."
Within a few moments, Remus had the brightest area pinpointed. "Can you zoom in?" he asked Dumbledore, who tapped his wand twice on the parchment. The map vanished, to be replaced by one in a larger scale.
"Hogsmeade," said Danger as Remus found the brightest spot again. "They’re still in Hogsmeade?"
"Not in the village itself," said Dumbledore absently, enlarging the map. "It seems to be indicating an area a short way outside the town..."
One more enlargement brought them to a scale where they could see buildings. "This ought to do it," said Remus, moving slowly lest he overshoot. "Closer... closer... got it!"
He dropped the pendants on top of a building sitting by itself on a hill. The red gem flared brightly, as in triumph, and went out.
Remus snatched up the chain to see where his cubs were.
xXxXx
Outside, Ginny shivered a little, wishing she’d thought to bring a jumper of her own as well as the one she clutched in her arms. But that would have taken more time, and she had to hurry.
She rounded Hagrid’s darkened hut and ran up to the paddock. "Buckbeak!" she called to the creature standing off to one side, head under his wing. "Buckbeak, wake up!"
The hippogriff’s wings flared, and his head came around, his great orange eyes fixing on Ginny. She swallowed and bowed deeply, praying he didn’t pick this moment to get into a snit. After a moment, she heard a whoosh of expelled breath and saw Buckbeak’s scaly knees bend in front of her.
Ginny straightened and ran to the hippogriff’s side. "Beautiful Buckbeak," she said coaxingly, stroking him. "You like us, I think. But you like Draco the most. You like him because he comes down here and talks to you. You know who I mean — this boy." She held up Draco’s jumper, the one she’d taken from his dorm. "Here, sniff. You know him."
Buckbeak lowered his head to the jumper, inhaled several times, and crooned deep in his throat.
"That’s right, you know him. He’s in trouble, Buckbeak. He needs your help. Can you go to him? Can you fly and find him, and help him?" Ginny didn’t know how much of what she was saying would get through, but she had to try. "Go on, Buckbeak! Fly! Find Draco!"
Buckbeak opened his wings again and beat them twice, screeching. His great beak plucked at the jumper in Ginny’s hand, then turned and tugged at his neck feathers.
"What, you want this there?" Ginny could have sworn he winked at her. "You want this around your neck?" Wondering if she was losing her mind, she tied the jumper around the hippogriff’s neck. "There you go, Buckbeak. Go on, now."
With a second, louder, screech, Buckbeak turned and galloped down the paddock, launching himself into the air at the end of it, flapping hard to gain altitude. Ginny watched him for a moment, then turned to run for the castle.
Her part was done. She only hoped it would work.
xXxXx
Lucius Malfoy shut the door of the bedroom where his son and the Mudblood girl sat and tapped all four corners of the doorframe with his wand, smirking to himself. Nothing would leave that room by the door without his permission now, and the window was much too small to allow a human access. As well, he had examined both children closely, and removed from them anything that could be used as a weapon, although he was admittedly confused as to why they both wore illusionary necklaces. Still, illusion — by its nature a thing of vision only — could not harm him.
Little fool. He thinks he has deceived me. He chuckled as he made his way down the hall. He thinks I believe that he will willingly return to me, when he has told me twice that he never will. But thanks to the wands Patroclus procured for us, some careful purchases with what gold I had, and some pilfering from Severus Snape’s stores to make up for it...
It still made him angry to think of it. The day he had tried to withdraw more gold from his Gringotts vault, only to be told that it was empty, that its entire contents had been withdrawn, withdrawn and redeposited in a vault belonging to one Remus Lupin. And then to see Lupin escorting his son around the village, laughing and talking familiarly with him, even placing a fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder...
After the Dark Lord’s return, I believe I shall ask if I may have Lupin, Lucius mused. Him and his wife. I can teach her what a real man is like, with him to watch. And cloth-of-silver garments are always amusing. Then, at the next full moon, let the games begin — the arena filled with weapons, but only one made of silver — can she find it and kill her love in time to save herself? Or will the Beast devour Beauty in this version of the tale?
Patroclus Nott would have to be allowed a share in the spoils, though. He had been livid when he had realized that he, and his son, had both been Obliviated to remove their knowledge of Lupin’s lycanthropy. The son had been very helpful, Lucius had to acknowledge, for the first half of the year — stealing the rarer supplies Lucius needed from Severus Snape’s office, and spreading stories about Draco through the school, to put him in the right frame of mind for the Christmas present Lucius had prepared for him.
But after Christmas, he seems to have abandoned his pursuits. And Draco never mentioned my little gift. Perhaps it was misdelivered, or the first spell, to catch his interest, failed to engage. He shrugged. It matters nothing now. Unless...
Could Draco’s odd vacillations be explained by the effects of the curse Lucius had laid on the globe? Perhaps the personality he had so carefully implanted had taken partial hold of the boy’s mind, and needed only a bit of help to finish its work.
Filio Fidelius. Such a lovely phrase.
The Dutiful Son Curse would make use of the blood they shared to bind Draco to him permanently, making him the center of the boy’s world. It came directly from the ancient Romans, who had firmly believed that a child’s first and only loyalty should be to the paterfamilias, the father of his family. The paterfamilias, in turn, had the right to do anything with his children, for they belonged to him. He could marry them off, send them to war, install them in a trade...
Or kill them.
That was the use of one of the potions he was brewing now. A time-delayed poison with no antidote, rare and difficult to recognize, it would destroy the Mudblood girl’s mind immediately but allow her body to live on for several days, giving her family false hope for her, until it finally destroyed the last vestiges of her brain and killed her.
In his other cauldron, of course, was the potion that would open the newly-created link between their two minds and souls, allowing Draco to drain away the magic that was his by right. Lucius frowned at this potion as he dipped a testing flask into it. One of the books had claimed it was not actually necessary, that the link would open on its own once the binding had begun, allowing magical sharing and even mind-to-mind speech between the two so bonded.
Certainly the joining of the two bloods had been spectacular. He had made the cuts as the spell’s instructions directed, in the same place on each child — he could always remove the mark from Draco later, and he rather enjoyed seeing them branded his creations. Then he had collected a drop of each blood on a knife blade and thrust it into the fire of pine, dogwood and yew. The flames had roared up and turned blood red, and both children’s cuts had instantly become scars. This, according to the book, was the sign of a fully successful joining, one which would be as useful as a true-born blood bond, and only possible if the hearts and minds of those being joined were unopposed...
Lucius set the flask of potion aside and went to find the book. He flipped through the pages rapidly until he found the passage he wanted, then read it over carefully, and sighed in relief.
I see. I see now. The link will open on its own only if there is some currently extant magical bond between the two. And nothing of that sort exists between them — I checked it myself...
Which meant, Lucius realized, that his Christmas gift to Draco had either never arrived or never been opened. He would have been able to tell if his curse were currently active on the boy.
But it no longer matters. Direct action is the course of the day. And direct action is what I will take. In precisely...
He checked his watch again. Four minutes.
And then, with his son at his side, he would seek the Dark Lord and find him, and bring him Harry Potter. His master would rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before, and with the prophesied vanquisher instead the vanquished, no other would dare stand before them. The world would be theirs for the taking, and theirs to keep, for the Dark Lord had promised that all those who had helped to bring him to power should have their reward...
Immortality. Lucius licked his lips, tasting the sweetness of the word. I will watch my great-great-grandsons play the ancient game, and teach them how it is done, and spar with them but keep them always in awe of me, for I shall be the true paterfamilias, the Father of the Family who can never die...
The fires under the cauldrons flickered as the potions boiled and bubbled.
xXxXx
Harry’s eyes came open again. He still couldn’t move any other part of his body, but his head hurt less, and it was easier to think now. Straining his eyes downward, he managed to see it had been about forty minutes since he was last awake.
All right. Time for some serious thinking.
Goal: get out of here alive, preferably unhurt, and definitely with Draco and Hermione in the same condition.
Requirements: get out of this damned spell, find Draco and Hermione, get them loose from whatever’s been done to them, find out where we are, find a way home, and use it. All without attracting the attention of Malfoy and Pettigrew, or, if we do attract their attention, dealing with it.
I wish I had my wand. Or my dagger.
Pursuant to Combat Club rules, to avoid cheating, Harry had left his wand in his dorm. Some of the older students had grumbled about this, claiming their basic rights were being violated, but Moony had been firm — no wands, or no playing. To the cubs, he had issued a separate order — the daggers, too, must be left behind. "Just in case you forget this isn’t a real fight," he’d said. "I’ve known it to happen."
So Harry and Draco, and Hermione and Meghan, had dutifully removed their belts and tucked their wands under their pillows before reporting to the Slythindor mustering point. Harry could feel the shape of a wand tucked into his robes, but it was a Combat Club wand, and would only squirt dye at someone.
But I got it in Pettigrew’s eyes when he was masquerading as Luna, and that worked pretty well. Or if I can get it into someone’s mouth...
Not important right now, Harry. Think about important things. Like getting loose from this spell.
On first blush, his prospects weren’t good. Spells like the Body-Bind were supposed to be impossible to break from the inside.
But so are Memory Charms. And I did one of those once. I just wanted it to break hard enough, and it broke.
Still, I think I need something more here. Something strong, powerful, but simple. Something to let me go, to unlock this spell...
The word triggered a memory. "Basic unlocking is three, three, five," said Professor Vector’s precise voice. "All together, now — three, three, five..."
Arithmancy. The unlocking sequence. Could that work on this? You’re supposed to do it with a wand, but maybe it would work without one.
Harry closed his eyes, the better to remember. I’d need to do three of one motion, three of another, and five of a third. Unfortunately, my motion skills are kind of limited right now...
Wait. I can open and close my eyes. That’s two, right there! Left eye, right eye! Perfect! What for the last one, though?
He took a deep breath, and just like that, had his answer. Breathing. Big, deliberate breaths. So, left eye three times, right eye three times, and then five breaths, and that should break the spell.
I hope.
Harry blinked several times to clear his eyes, then began. Ceremoniously, he lowered and raised his left eyelid, once, twice, three times. Then the right, once, twice, three times.
Now the breaths.
Breathing in and out five times, slowly, left him with plenty of time to worry.
Is this really going to work? Should I have tried something else?
One.
Can I even do wandless magic? I’m only thirteen...
Two.
I don’t even know if Draco and Hermione are here with me. Or where here is.
Three.
But this has to work. I have to get free of this. I have to.
Four.
So I will. I always do what I have to.
Five.
It’s a family trait.
Harry exhaled the fifth breath extra slowly, almost afraid to try to move, in case it hadn’t worked.
Well, I have to move sometime...
He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth.
I think...
He tried a smile. His face responded perfectly to his mind.
Yes...
He rolled over and sat up, stiffly but with no other trouble.
YES!
He stretched carefully, a bit at a time, working the stiffness out of his muscles. I have to be ready for anything. Running, fighting, hiding...
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
Hiding sounds best right now.
Quickly, Harry lay back down in the same position he’d held for the last hour. He’d hide in plain sight until the person passed by, being just what he was expected to be — a helpless prisoner...
But instead of passing by, the person turned in at the door of the room.
Wormtail. Harry tensed up as he saw the small, hunched silhouette, and again as the man came into the candlelight, staring down at him.
Two and a half years in Azkaban had robbed Peter Pettigrew of much of his fat. The face Harry remembered as being so nervous was alight with a strange, fiendish glee. From within his robes, Pettigrew withdrew a wand.
I thought they weren’t supposed to have wands...
"I always wanted to do this," he said, staring at the wand. "I always wanted to, but I never got the chance. I wanted to do it to James, but he died before I got the chance. I didn’t think that was fair. The Dark Lord promised I’d have my revenge." He looked down at Harry, a thin smile beginning on his face. "You’ll have to do instead. But we can’t have Lucius horning in on the party, no, we can’t have that. Silencio!"
Wormtail waved the wand around the room, and all the little noises Harry had been hearing from elsewhere in the house ceased. He tensed even further, unable to stop himself, preparing for what was almost certainly coming. Death Eaters love the Unforgivables...
"Poke!" said Wormtail, jabbing the wand into Harry’s shoulder.
"Poke!" Another jab, this one in the back.
I don’t believe this. Harry allowed a disbelieving smile to spread over his face, since Wormtail was behind him. Just have to wait until he gets around to my front again...
"Poke, poke, poke, poke, poke!" chanted Wormtail, giggling like a girl as he prodded Harry with the wand. "Oh, and we can’t forget the most important place of all, can we? Can we?" He skipped around Harry’s feet and aimed the wand at a very private place.
I don’t think so.
Harry swept his feet around, knocking Wormtail to the floor, and scrambled up in the same motion, diving on the older wizard. Within seconds, he had Wormtail pinned, one hand over his mouth, and the wand was in his hand, its point resting against Wormtail’s throat.
"Poke," he hissed, digging it in slightly.
Wormtail made a whimpering noise.
"Quietus," said Harry, wand still aimed at Wormtail’s throat. He stood up and backed away. "Finite Incantatem," he said, flicking the wand around the room to remove the Silencing Charm.
"Why — why did you do that?" whispered Wormtail, his eyes widening as he realized he couldn’t speak any louder.
"So no one sneaks up on us," said Harry, advancing on Wormtail again, stopping just out of easy grabbing range, wand aimed directly at Wormtail’s chest. He knelt down, then sat on one hip, never allowing the wand to leave its target. "Now. Give me one good reason I should let you live."
"The little girl," Wormtail gabbled sotto voce. "Meghan. Sirius’ daughter. I never wanted to take her — I wouldn’t have hurt her — I wouldn’t have let Lucius have her..."
"Right," said Harry skeptically. "How did you get onto the grounds?"
"An illusion spell. It stands up to more than a glamour charm, but it’s easier than Polyjuice Potion. And it lasts longer. Up to three hours if you do it right. You need a piece of the person you’re disguising yourself as — hair or nails or skin — we had someone helping us, a boy, a student, I don’t know his name, but he would leave us notes with hair inside them. I was him the first time, on Halloween. Lucius was him yesterday."
"How did you get in yesterday?"
"In his pocket — the boy’s pocket — I changed and climbed inside..." Wormtail’s eyes darted around the room.
"Don’t even think about changing now," said Harry, the wand never wavering. "I’m the fastest in my class, and I could get you before you were finished. How did you escape from Azkaban?"
"As a rat. I got out when the door was opened, then waited until there were no dementors in the hallway to free Lucius..."
"How did you transform? There were wards on your cell."
"They were only on the inside of the walls," said Wormtail, and to Harry’s disconcertment, he giggled again. "Only on the inside, and I made a hole... I chipped the rock, day after day, week after week, until I had a hole. It was big enough to get little pieces of me into it — I could transform bit by bit, squeezing a little more of my human self in every day and changing, until one day there was enough room for all of me..." His giggles escalated madly.
"Stop that," said Harry. "Where are Draco and Hermione?"
"They’re here — in this house — upstairs. They’re not hurt, at least I don’t think so — it hasn’t been long enough yet — Lucius had to let the spell finish before he could kill the girl..."
Harry’s heart did a sort of quick-step double beat, but his hand stayed steady — he’d been the best of the Pride at keeping a wand on target no matter what, and Padfoot and Moony had come up with some amazing distractions. "What spell?"
Wormtail explained. Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sick up. Malfoy’s bloody insane. But we knew that.
"All right," he said when Wormtail had finished. "Close your eyes."
Wormtail looked terrified. "Harry — you wouldn’t — you wouldn’t really — Sirius let me live..."
"Shut up." Harry stared Wormtail down, imagining that he could see into the other wizard’s mind through his watery blue eyes. "Yeah, he let you live. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But he did. You know why?"
"N-n-no..."
"I think you do. He told you at your trial. Think really hard. Maybe you’ll remember."
Wormtail shook his head hard. "I can’t... I can’t remember..."
"He didn’t want to have your death on his conscience," said Harry, recalling it as he spoke. The way Padfoot had held Meghan in one arm and put his other around Harry, holding both his children close to him, and the things he had said. "He didn’t want to be any more like you than you had to. You killed twelve people, and handed over three others to Voldemort—" He got a malicious pleasure out of seeing Wormtail shudder at the name. "You did all that for yourself. So your worthless little life could go on. Because you don’t have anyone else, do you? You had friends once, but you threw them all away for your Dark Lord."
Wormtail’s mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t seem to muster up anything to say.
"Padfoot didn’t want to live his life knowing that something he did, or something he didn’t do, killed even one person. Even you."
"B-but you, Harry..." Wormtail managed to choke out. "What will you do..."
"You’ll know in a minute," said Harry coldly. "Now close your eyes, or I’ll close them for you."
Trembling, whimpering, Wormtail closed his eyes. Harry stood up, holding the wand on target, and backed away across the room.
"Petrificus Totalus," he whispered.
Wormtail jerked once as the spell hit, then was entirely still. Harry tucked the wand into his waistband and hurried back across the room. Getting a hold of Wormtail’s collar, he hauled the man into the center of the room, where he himself had been a little while before, and peered cautiously into the hall. No one was in sight.
Damn it. I forgot to ask where we are. Well, I’m not taking the spell off to find out. I’ll just find Draco and Hermione, we’ll take out Malfoy, and then we’ll get out of here.
He adjusted the candle so its light wouldn’t immediately reveal that Wormtail and not Harry now lay helpless in this room. Then he bent over Wormtail.
"Padfoot let you live," he said quietly. "So will I. Call it a second chance. But you’re running low. If we ever meet again, I might not be so nice."
Turning away, he slipped out of the room, testing every board before he stepped on it in case it squeaked, looking for a window, a door, or the stairs, and praying he didn’t unexpectedly run into Lucius Malfoy.
He’d done the impossible once already. Now he just had to do it again.
xXxXx
Animagus.
What do you mean? Wait — Draco stared at Hermione. You want to do your first change here?
It ought to work. Hermione sounded like she was trying to convince herself. I’ve taken the potion, and I know the incantation, I’ve known it for weeks, I just haven’t had the courage to try it. But I’ll try it now. And it will work. You’ll see.
But what will it do? Draco looked down at their hands and could have kicked himself. Of course — the ropes are tied around your human wrists. They’d fall off cat paws. As long as they’re not magical.
I don’t think they are. It’s just that there’s so much of them, and they’re holding our hands so tightly, that we’d never have a chance to get away without magic.
I hope you’re right.
I’m sure I’m right. Feel. Hermione wiggled her hands. There’s loose space in here. Not much, but it’s here. A magical rope would have closed down around us by now.
All right. Draco took a deep breath, focusing on calm. He needed to be calm, so that Hermione would be calm, so that she could accomplish this impossibly advanced magical feat and free herself, so that she could free him, so that they could both escape, assuming his father hadn’t somehow charmed the door to keep them in here even if they could remove the ropes...
This isn’t helping.
Hermione looked closely at him. You know, that is a scar on your face. On your left cheek. It’s about an inch long, straight up and down.
You have one too. It looks just like that.
I wonder if he had to do it the same for both of us to make us twins?
Probably. Neenie?
Yeah?
I like being twins.
I like it too.
If we get out of this —
When.
Fine. When we get out of this, can we still be twins?
Hermione nodded briskly. And you can be the only person who’s allowed to call me Neenie, and drive Harry and Ron up the wall.
Draco laughed aloud. I like that.
But first we have to get out of this. And that means I should be standing up. Cat legs don’t bend this way. Help me out?
With a little squirming, a little leaning, and a little grunting, Hermione worked her legs around, wincing as circulation returned to her feet. When she could feel again, she stood up on the other side of the bed, leaning forward so that her hands still rested on the bed inside their rope cocoon. I think I’m ready, she said uncertainly.
I know you’re ready. Draco knew how this worked — if he showed any signs of nerves or worry, Hermione’s courage would fail, and they wouldn’t get out of this. He had to be steady as a rock for her. But he could do that.
She was his twin. He wouldn’t let her down.
Go ahead, he continued. I’m listening.
Hermione closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. All right. Here goes.
She began to recite, each word carefully and deliberately articulated. Reno mea adsimile curalium, argilla, et merula est.
Draco felt an odd prickling against his hands, and stared as Hermione’s face sprouted fur, fur which grew in blotches of orange, white, and black...
Well, that is what she just said.
Celeritas et decor mea non pare est.
There was no visible change for this sentence, but with his mind in contact with hers, Draco could feel the changes there. Neenie’s brain was beginning to alter, her reflexes to change. This mind belonged to a body that could run all day and never tire, walk a tightrope and never fall.
Mea denses et unguis catus sunt, atque ego sum.
Now she was developing the hunter’s mind, and a body to go with. Draco watched as she pulled her lips back from her teeth, which were becoming sharper by the second, and winced as claws began to dig into his hands. Finish up, Neenie... come on, last sentence...
Hermione took a deep breath, although she wasn’t speaking aloud. Felis sum qui solus ambulat, sed omne loci idem mihi non sunt.
I am the cat who walks by herself, Draco translated, but not all places are alike to me.
Hermione’s body shrank, her clothes began to disappear, her face changed shape and her ears migrated. Draco watched it all in fascination.
She’s a paradox. A cat with a home, a Pride to take care of, but one to take care of her as well...
Hermione scrabbled with her back paws against the bedclothes and got her rear end up onto the bed just in time for Draco to watch her tail sprout, long and graceful. She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking nervous.
"It’s done," Draco whispered aloud. "It’s done. You did it — Neenie, you can look! You did it!"
I did it? Neenie opened her eyes. I did it! I did it! Draco, I did it! I’m an Animagus!
"I see. I see you. Now try taking your paws out."
Carefully, Neenie withdrew her dainty paws from the confining rope, then looked at him triumphantly. After a moment, puzzlement seemed to creep onto the feline face.
Draco frowned. "Are you trying to talk to me?"
Neenie nodded hard.
"I don’t hear anything."
Neenie rolled her eyes.
"I don’t get it. Moony and Danger can talk from anywhere."
Neenie frowned cat-style, pulling her lips back, then brightened. She padded quickly around to Draco’s side and laid a velveted paw on his exposed wrist. How’s this?
Draco sighed in relief. Loud and clear. You?
The same. I guess we have to touch.
Well, that’s better than nothing. Can you change back?
Probably, but why?
Draco lifted his hands, which were still bound. I’d like to get loose at some point tonight...
Oh, right. Sorry. Hold on. Neenie leapt lightly off the bed and disappeared. A bit of scrabbling and two thumps later, the human Hermione appeared above the bed and began untying knots.
"The return spell is a lot easier," she said. "Just ‘Reditio ipse.’"
"That’s good." Draco squirmed free of the last loop and started rubbing his wrists. "Well, there’s that done. What now?"
Hermione shook her head. "I was hoping you’d have an idea."
"I’m not saying I don’t. Let’s see if we can tell where we are." Draco stood up and went over to the window.
xXxXx
"The Shrieking Shack," breathed Minerva. "They’re in the Shrieking Shack — the one building in Hogsmeade we never checked — it’s been abandoned for years..."
The association appeared in Remus’ mind again, but this time it didn’t flee the instant he noticed it. Abandoned. Long-abandoned prison of youth —
It means the Shrieking Shack! Danger almost shouted. You have to go back there — willingly — or you will at some point tonight — wait here. I’ll get it. She ran for the fireplace.
"Where’s she going?" asked Sirius, staring after her.
"Sibyll Trelawney made another prophecy," said Remus quickly. "Ron witnessed it, we were able to get a copy from his memories. Danger’s gone to get it now."
"What is it about?" asked Aletha.
"We think it’s about tonight." Remus slid his pendants back over his head and stared down at the little ink drawing of the Shrieking Shack. He’d never wanted to go back there, for any reason... and there had been lines in the prophecy about spilling blood and wreaking havoc...
Danger’s here. It won’t happen.
But he kept thinking about how nice some blood would taste, particularly some blood with the name Malfoy attached to it...
It must be getting close to moonrise.
A check of the clock revealed he had four minutes left. No surprise, then. But I can’t bite him, there’s too much risk, if I infect him I’ll be exposed...
Coming back, said Danger dizzily inside his head. In the Floo now...
"Here she comes," said Remus, just as the fire turned green. Danger stumbled out, shook her head violently, dislodging a cloud of ashes, and walked quickly across the office, handing the scroll to Dumbledore.
"On the night of the willing return to the long-abandoned prison of youth, the impossible will happen, three times over," Dumbledore read aloud. "Souls shall join against the darkness, the faithful three will ride again, and five shall spill their blood upon the ground... revenge and mercy wreak havoc alike, as an ancient lie becomes truth... on that night, the impossible shall come to pass..."
"Willing return to prison of youth being you, Remus, going back to the Shrieking Shack?" Aletha questioned.
"That’s what I think," said Remus. "But I’d never make it now. I’d have to stop and transform partway there, and that’s no good..."
"But we don’t have to stop," said Sirius, grinning. "Letha and I. We can go right now."
"I will send word to the Aurors," said Dumbledore, standing up. "They should arrive within a few minutes."
"Tell them to hurry," said Aletha, following Sirius to the door. "Or there won’t be anything left."
"Bash ‘em, Dadfoot," said Meghan, with a smaller version of Sirius’ grin decorating her face. "Bash ‘em good for me."
"I will, Pearl. You all be good now," Sirius told the Pride. "And maybe we’ll let you kick them a few times."
Ron looked interested.
"Stop giving them ideas," said Aletha firmly. The door closed behind her. Dumbledore had already left by the fireplace.
"I’ll take them back to the hospital wing," said Minerva. "You two stay here."
"Just for a few minutes," said Danger. "Then we’re heading out."
"Good luck," said Neville, standing up.
"Good luck," echoed the rest of the Pride as they followed Minerva out the door.
And we end up being alone anyway. Danger smiled. Funny how things work out.
Just don’t assume anything, Remus warned her, sitting down in the chair Ron had vacated. They’re not dead yet, but a lot can happen in a few minutes...
Well, you’re a regular little ray of sunshine.
I’m just trying to be realistic. Just because we know where they are is no guarantee we’ll get them back safely...
Have you ever known Sirius to fail?
Do you really want me to answer that?
No. Answer this. Have you ever known Sirius and Letha to fail, when they went after something together?
Remus considered the question. No, he said finally. Anything they work together on seems to come off well.
And they’re working together on this. What does that tell you?
Sirius is a very changeable man?
We knew that.
So we did. Remus reached over and pulled Danger into the chair with him. And we also knew that the best way to ease before-moonrise pains is skin-to-skin contact, did we not?
We did.
And the best way to facilitate skin-to-skin contact is the removal of clothing...
Mmmm.
"Hmph," said Phineas Nigellus. "Disgusting."
A snap of Remus’ fingers produced a curtain of fire in front of the old wizard’s portrait.