Ginny finished rolling out the carpet and glared at Caleb, who was smiling apologetically at her. That is, until he looked at the carpet.
"I'm not sure about this, Ginny," he frowned, raising a hand to rub his chest, "I've never flown one of these things before, have you?"
"No," she replied shortly, "but it's our only chance. We can't keep waiting around while Sirius gathers information. He's doing what he's supposed to, but we're supposed to be back at Hogwarts."
"Good point, my dear," Caleb drawled, "but if neither of us can fly this woven sack of strings then I'm afraid we're going to have to wait on his Royal Gryffness."
Ginny shot a glare at the impudent young Slytherin as she knelt onto the carpet. "Do you have to crack jokes all of the time?" she retorted.
"Only when I'm awake," he grinned.
"Hmph!"
Caleb's lack of encouragement made Ginny fume, but his wit had yet to miss the mark for her. Consequently, she found herself angrier at the fact that she was having to bite back a smile at his statement than at anything he was actually doing. Or not doing, as the case may be. She bit her lips hard and tossed her tangled hair as Morgan, whom Ginny had almost forgotten, cocked her head and stared at them.
"The first thing we'll want to try is a basic levitation spell," she said in clipped tones, ignoring the werewolf, "from there we'll try to see if we can jinx it into doing something."
"Oh, that should work very well," Caleb rolled his eyes. Morgan whoffed slightly, suddenly standing and trotting over to Ginny, who glared at the ground in response.
"Do you have a better idea?" she snapped, raising her eyes to Caleb.
"Yes, I do. Let's get ourselves to that drafty old barn and wait for Mr. Black and our dear Malfoy to return. It'll be a sight safer than trying to fly something we've never flown before."
"Why don't I kick you where you've never been kicked before," Ginny growled, scowling. Caleb threw his head back and laughed while Morgan yipped, an almost amused sound.
"Heavens, Miss Weasley, I had no idea your wit was so sharp! I'll have to ask Draco next time I see-"
"Are you going to help me or not?" she interrupted, standing abruptly and turning from him so he wouldn't see the tell tale flush on her face.
"Of course I am, fair damsel," he replied with a smile. "I dare not refuse such a determined young woman. I've heard rumor of your Bat Bogey Hex, it's something of a legend!"
Ginny pursed her lips slightly, obviously trying not to smile as she shook her head. She just couldn't seem to stay angry with the impetuous Anderson.
"All right then, Wingardium Leviosa," she commanded, pointing her wand at the
carpet.
It rose about four feet off the ground and Ginny grinned at Caleb, hope flaring in her heart. Grabbing his hand, she
stepped onto the carpet and dragged him with her, though he seemed reluctant.
"What's wrong with you?" she laughed, her spirits lifting as the carpet continued to hover. "We're halfway there."
"Maybe we are, but maybe we aren't," Caleb replied gloomily as he eyed the carpet suspiciously. "We're levitating, now how do we fly?"
"Well, let's use a basic flying charm," she said, lifting her wand again.
"No, let me try this one." Caleb grabbed her wrist, a grin on his face. "I know a few incantations that might do the trick."
"So do I," she said with a touch of impatience. Caleb's grin only widened.
"I'm willing to bet I know a few more than you do. Let me try it out, alright? Besides, how else am I supposed to feel like your rescuer?"
"You're impossible," Ginny observed, her lips pursing.
"All part of my irresistible charm; now stand back."
Ginny stepped off the carpet and caught Morgan staring at her. With a slight glare she turned her back on the werewolf and focused on Caleb's effort.
"Volare," he whispered. "Come to me, Winds of the Four Corners!"
Ginny felt a breeze stir her hair, but wondered if that was part of the spell. Then she wondered if they should be standing on the levitating carpet in case it tried to leave without them.
"Asportare, into the sky and beyond!"
The breeze had strengthened noticeably, and Ginny turned wide eyes on Caleb, impressed. She didn't know what particular spell he was using, but wasn't surprised that he had a few tricks up his sleeve. He was a Slytherin, after all.
Very suddenly she saw Draco's face in her mind, smirking with superiority, his eyes burning with some nameless emotion. His hair wasn't as sleek as normal, and his skin seemed a bit dusty. Not the tidy Draco she knew from school, and she felt a ripple of warmth spread through her. Slytherin...
A withered leaf smacked into her face, bringing her attention back to the moment. The wind was now blowing hard and Caleb was watching the carpet intently. It had risen another foot, but was otherwise hovering as before. With a slight shake Ginny banished her disturbing thoughts and stepped towards it.
"What now?" she cried over the wind.
"Now we get on and test it. I've never actually tried this spell, it's the base spell for racing brooms. Might be a bit tricky to handle."
"Only one way to find out," she shrugged and clambered on. Caleb followed, walking to one end of the carpet and pointing his wand forward. The wind increased, whipping their hair around them. Then Ginny felt the carpet move. Her heart leaped forward.
"Yes!" she screamed, leaping on Caleb to hug him. With an appreciative grin Caleb tried to wrap his arms around her, but she laughingly pushed him off before he could.
"Concentrate!" she commanded.
"Yes, ma'am!" Caleb extended his wand out and up. The carpet moved forward again, but Ginny didn't feel it rising. She was about to comment on this when a loud bark and a dark shape leaping onto the carpet next to her made her jump and gasp.
"Was wondering what she'd do," Caleb shouted, looking down at Morgan with a not-quite-friendly eye. Ginny opened her mouth to suggest they push her back off when another shape dropped from the tree branches onto the carpet next to her. Before she could do more than jump in fright, the figure snapped forward and grabbed her, spinning her around to pin her arms from behind.
"Caleb!" she screamed, struggling and kicking to get free. Caleb was looking at her with wide eyes, his face drained of color. That was when Ginny saw Relah emerge from the shadows and run straight at Caleb. Before she could scream out a warning a hand slammed over her mouth, causing Ginny to squirm and whimper in pain. By the time she was able to look again Relah had the young Slytherin in a headlock, his face turning purple as he struggled to free himself from her crushing grip.
"Stay still or I'll kill you this moment," a voice hissed furiously in Ginny's ear. It was the Celt, and Ginny immediately went limp, her memory of almost being suffocated by him suddenly fresh in her mind.
"Now, where is Malfoy?" he whispered in a softer, but no less furious, tone. Ginny shook her head, indicating she didn't know. But the Celt wouldn't accept this.
"Relah," he said in an icy voice, "if she refuses to answer my question in a way I find acceptable, crush the boy's skull."
Ginny felt her heart stop for a moment, her whole body going numb at the pronouncement. The Celt slowly removed his hand from Ginny's mouth, then used it to pin her arms more securely. Relah was wearing an eager grin, looking at Ginny as if she hoped she would lie.
She wants to kill us, Ginny thought miserably, certain that the female would kill Caleb regardless of her answer. And she wouldn't be punished either, because Draco was their objective.
"Miss Weasley, where is Draco Malfoy?"
Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but hesitated in her response. She couldn't be sure they'd accept that she didn't know. She needed to stall for time!
"He was here," she began slowly, "and his leg was broken. But-"
"Yes, his leg was broken," Relah interrupted, frowning. "How was it mended? And how did you two get your wands?"
"I-well, that's a bit complicated. You see-"
"Laighlinne, didn't you have their wands?" Relah broke in again, looking at her leader in puzzlement.
"I gave them to Samson for safekeeping," the Celt replied.
"That oaf?" Relah spat. "He's useful, Laighlinne, but he's dead stupid! He either dropped them or-"
"Enough!" Laighlinne roared, pushing Ginny forward, no longer trapping her but keeping a death grip on her arm. "The boy can't be far and we need to find him. I'm going to ask you just once more where he's gone, Miss Weasley, and if you don't answer me I'll kill the both of you right here!"
Ginny pulled herself weakly away, wanting to get free of the Celt but knowing she wouldn't succeed. She felt her heart pounding faster than she'd ever thought possible, and the numbness returned. This is it, she thought, we're dead. The tears threatened to return, but Ginny was sick of crying. If this was to be her end, she wasn't going to die on her knees, so to speak.
"I don't know where he is," she cried, "Someone came and-and mended his leg. Then he took Draco with him. That's all I know!"
"You lie," Relah snapped, dragging Caleb forward as she walked towards Ginny, "You know where he's gone, and-"
Relah stopped speaking, lifting her face and inhaling deeply.
"Someone has been here," the Celt said softly, looking first at Ginny, then at Caleb. "Who was it?"
"We can track them," Relah said suddenly. "Let's just kill them and go."
Laighlinne opened his mouth to reply, but before he could a dark shape suddenly leapt out of the bushes next to them, attacking him. Both he and Ginny, who was still caught in his iron grip, tumbled to the ground.
Relah screamed his name and ran to them, releasing Caleb. The young Slytherin wasted no time. Diving for his wand, he began to run for the cover of the trees. The Celt released Ginny at the same moment, and as Caleb ran past Ginny called his name(,) but the young man didn't stop.
Damn you Slytherins! she thought furiously, lifting herself from the ground and running after him without looking back. As she reached the edge of the clearing Ginny heard a yelp of pain and half turned to look back, but she couldn't see anything. It was probably Morgan, Ginny thought, feeling a blind panic threatening to overwhelm her again. Forcing herself to run faster, she tore after Anderson with all the speed she could muster.
*************
Draco walked quickly beside the silent Black, his mind whirling with too much information. The spy had not been whom he'd expected, and the information he'd received had blasted all of his ill formed suspicions to dust. He knew more than he had an hour ago, but his understanding of things was even less. What was going on?
"We need to hurry," Sirius interrupted his chaotic thoughts, "if our source is right, Ginny and your friend will be sitting ducks in that barn."
"If they went there at all," Draco mumbled, quickening his pace.
"What?" Sirius frowned.
"You know her," Draco replied irritably, "anything could distract her and pull her off in another direction. For all we know she could be trying to walk back to Hogwarts!"
"I highly doubt that," Sirius pursed his lips, "She isn't that stupid."
"No, but she's that brave," Draco growled. "Which is almost the same thing," he added in an undertone.
"Do, please, try to keep your whining to a minimum," Sirius bit out coldly, "It's irritating."
"So's your presence," Draco snapped, "but you don't hear me complaining."
"Oh yes I do, about everything. Do me a favor and untwist your knickers, all right?"
"I'm not wearing knickers," the younger man mumbled sullenly. Sirius wrinkled his nose.
"I didn't need to know that," he said with mild disgust. Draco shrugged and continued walking. His head was bowed and his eyes unfocused, and Sirius thought he seemed to be bearing a great weight on his shoulders.
Must be terrible, being a rich boy with too many connections, he thought with a touch of amused irony. The boy had fallen victim to a scheme to discredit his father, and Sirius felt a bit sorry for him. Still, rich boys occasionally needed a good kick in their perspective. It tended to bring on a measure of maturity.
He looked over at Draco slyly, whose frown had taken on a slightly petulant air, and smirked.
Sometimes it brought maturity, but the amount was pretty variable. From the looks of things it might do no good here. Sirius's smirk widened as he thought of Lucius Malfoy.
Couldn't blame the boy, really, for a familial defect. He hurriedly repressed a snicker.
"What are you laughing at?" Draco immediately pounced on an excuse to be angry.
"Nothing," Sirius replied smoothly. "We'd better hurry."
"Why? They're probably hiding in a tree or something." Draco looked around with mild interest.
"What?" Sirius was really feeling the urge to belt the young Slytherin.
"Like I said, she's liable to do anything. And it will be the last thing you'll expect."
Sirius's frown deepened as he stared at Draco. "You seem to think you have her down pat," he said with false smoothness.
Draco stiffened slightly, "It doesn't take much to know a Weasley," he said dismissively, "they adore appearing the rebels."
"Ah," Sirius's brow smoothed. "That's no way to talk about a girl who's saved your scrawny neck and defended you rather vigorously."
"And I'm not ungrateful," Draco replied, a small amount of sarcasm in his voice, "but she's certainly lived up to my expectations. Reminds me of her brother."
"And I think she'd be honored to hear you say that," Sirius snapped.
Draco sneered nastily, "Must be that Gryffindor pride."
Sirius's fist curled, "Yes, quite unlike that Slytherin cunning which waits to see who's winning before deciding what to do."
"At least we're on the winning side," Draco smirked, feeling his gut grow icy.
"At what cost?" Black responded instantly. Draco fell silent as they continued to hurry towards the barn. Cost was nothing, only power mattered. To have power over friends and enemies alike, power to make them crawl on their bellies to you-that was what mattered. Cost wasn't a consideration because the end result would far outstrip what one paid.
The words had never felt so hollow to Draco before, especially now that he was running for his life from people who were supposed to be allied to his family. Did his father go through this often? Was power really worth having to constantly fight off those who were eager to take it from you?
"I've already had this argument," he said through clenched teeth, "and I'm in no mood to rehash it."
"Did you?" Sirius asked with interest, "How badly did you lose? I'm betting you argued with Ginny."
"No, actually, I argued with the other Slytherin," Draco replied sarcastically, "and I didn't lose."
"Funny, how I hear so many of you say that," Black smirked, "yet you can listen to your parents for hours as they spout the most ridiculous rhetoric imaginable, so I guess it comes down to Slytherins being selectively blind and deaf. I suppose it's no wonder none of you lose an argument!"
Draco said nothing, preferring instead to slow his pace so he could fall behind Black and not have to look at him. He refused to give the older man the satisfaction of knowing he'd hit on a sore point.
Dead teenage boys whose lives had been snuffed out for no better reason than the hunger of bloodthirsty creatures, human beings looked upon as nothing more than cattle to be slaughtered when it was time to feast. But did that count? At least…at least the boy's death had served an understandable purpose. But wasn't the cleansing of the wizarding populace a noble and worthy cause? He'd been taught his whole life that it was, that Halfbloods and Mudbloods fouled their race, sunk the honor and prestige of the old, established ruling families and the wizarding community in general. But then why did they happen? Why were magical children born to Muggles in the first place? It couldn't be a simple accident of nature, as his father so often dismissed it as. There were too many of them. And why were Pureblood families becoming more rare? Why did the accident of being born outside the wizarding world mean you were unworthy to join it? Why did the absence of magic from your being make you unworthy to live?
Why had he always accepted that these things were so, never once questioning their logic or sense?
He shook his head, not wanting to reflect on these deep and disturbing considerations which called into question everything he'd held as truth. Instead he thought of the moment the spy had stepped from the shadows of the trees. He'd been a small, slender male who moved with an almost effeminate grace, speaking rapidly and succinctly, and allowing no questions. The heads of the vampire nation were still willing to cooperate with the Ministry, and had planted a spy directly in with a group of organized rebels who'd joined up with Voldemort's forces. That particular spy had been in contact with the one Draco and Sirius had met earlier (who was actually just the middleman obtaining information), and confirmed that a member of the Inner Circle itself was moving to destroy the Malfoy family. The first moves had been designed to show up the Malfoys as weak, which prompted the false explosion attack on Draco at Hogwarts. Draco had tried to protest that the explanation made no sense, as attacking him would hardly discredit his father, but the snooty vampire had waved him into silence, insisting that this was the only information he had about the attacks at school. He did, however, have more on the attacks against Lucius and Narcissa. Draco had been shocked into silence at these words.
"My parents were attacked?" he'd whispered.
"Not exactly," the skinny vampire replied, "Lucius Malfoy hasn't been directly attacked, but the family business interests have been interrupted, or interfered with. I don't know how. Your mother, on the other hand, has been attacked twice. Once as she was leaving a theater performance in London, which was thwarted by Nigel Parkinson. The second attack happened last Tuesday. Malfoy Mansion was breached, and your mother only escaped by taking refuge in one of the secret rooms in the wine cellar, I'm told."
Draco had stared, his head whirling with images of his mother being chased through the labyrinthine halls of Malfoy Mansion by cloaked figures. The secret rooms would have been perfect, as they only opened if you used the correct passwords, and the passwords were known only to the three Malfoys. Fury began to boil through him. How, how had the intruders gained entrance to Malfoy Mansion? It was one of the most impenetrable dwellings in the entire wizarding world! Someone had to have breached the trust of his father, a close friend or a servant. The thought made Draco tremble with anger, and after a few moments he'd foolishly jumped forward and tried to grab the vampire to demand more information. The creature had pushed Draco away with one hand, sending him flying into some thorny bushes. Draco scowled with remembered humiliation. Black had helped him up and they'd taken their leave directly. Draco had no idea what they themselves had spoken of.
"Wait," Sirius raised a hand to stop Draco from advancing any further. Irritated, the young blond shot a glare at the older man.
"What? Do you hear the flapping of wings?" Draco asked sarcastically.
"And if I do?" Sirius retorted in a distracted voice, his face tilted towards the sky.
Then I'll run, Draco thought irritably. He was particularly ruffled about his own choice of words. After all, vampires fly by all sorts of means, or so he'd been taught. What if they were descending this moment?
Then Black will tell me to run, then we'll get caught, and finally we'll die, he mused, wondering if death would be such a bad idea compared to all this running and fright and intrigue.
Then he heard a scream.
Draco stiffened, his attention flying in the direction the scream had come. It was Ginny. She wasn't here at the barn! Sirius grabbed the cloth of Draco's robes and began to run. "Come on!"
Draco didn't need to be told twice. He began to tear ahead of Black, a cold feeling in the pit of his belly. The stupid vampires had caught her, and both she and Caleb were dead if he wasn't there with them.
"Slow down, Malfoy," he heard Black hiss loudly from behind, "we don't know who else is there!"
But this only spurred Draco to run faster. If reinforcements had arrived then their focus would be to find him, and their interest in keeping his friends alive would vanish…
Did I just call them my friends? A detached voice in his mind wondered. But he had no time to consider this at all; he had to get back to the clearing since the idiots obviously hadn't left it. He privately vowed then to strangle them both.
"Malfoy!" Black hissed louder, and from further away. A small part of Draco rejoiced in leaving the insufferable fugitive behind. Maybe now he'd get some peace from the bastard's constant goading.
Right at that moment, as Draco hit top speed, he slammed into a solid object face first, knocking the wind out of him. He felt himself hang in the air for a moment, bright stars exploding in his vision, then felt his body fly backwards and slam into the ground. What little oxygen he'd had left escaped him, and he felt the world start to recede and grow dark.