Disclaimer: Not mine; more's the pity.
Shadow Walks
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
--Green Day, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams"
*
*
*
*
*
*
Chapter Ten:
So you sailed away into a grey sky morning
--Vertical Horizon, "Best I Ever Had"
Harry and Remus emerged from the Pensieve more than an hour later, pale, trembling, and emotionally exhausted. They'd finally had to resort to overlapping the memories and playing them both at once, the two different perspectives yielding to them the whole of Bellatrix's last words to Hermione.
"Adjicio universum."
And Harry's world had been knocked off its axis. Change the universe. Together with what he'd learned from Calpurnia, it seemed to suggest a terrible reality.
Wordlessly, Remus had handed Harry the glass from the table, and Harry knocked its contents back without hesitation. The effects of the Calming Draught seemed minimal, although he supposed that it was keeping him from going completely mad all at once, and he was pacing in the small living room like a caged animal.
"Change the universe?" Remus was asking mildly, sipping his own concoction. "From what? To what? What did that do to Hermione?"
The multiverse room, Harry thought dizzily. The Death Eaters had somehow gotten wind of what the Unspeakables were researching - perhaps through Rookwood… who knew how long the studies had been going on? Bellatrix had devised the plan - a contingency plan - and had sent … someone … into the Department of Mysteries -- when? five years ago? longer? - to get… something… that necklace? But why had nothing turned up missing? What was required to send someone out of the universe? And how did you get them back - assuming they'd live through the transfer? Harry sighed. He still didn't have enough answers.
"I think - " he began heavily, trying to ignore the wobbliness of his knees as he paced. "I think that Bellatrix… Bellatrix …" He swore under his breath and resumed speaking slowly, trying to formulate his threads of suspicion and circumstance into something concrete. "She must have - she must have seen something… realized the horcruxes were gone - somehow knew that Voldemort's victory was not necessarily a sure thing. She wanted to - "
"If she was so worried about the possibility of your defeating him, why wasn't she with him - why didn't she warn him?" Lupin wondered, as Harry floundered visibly. But Harry shook his head at Remus' words. He understood Voldemort better than anybody else, more than he would have ever desired.
"Would you go tell Voldemort that you were afraid he was going to lose a battle to a boy that wasn't even eighteen years old? Lestrange would have known that it would mean certain death. She must have arranged her own plan, one that would keep her free - what could be more Slytherin than that? - and that would - that would… yes…" His eyes blazed green fire, as he hit on the driving force of Bellatrix's motivations. He was certain of it. "That would keep the victor from happiness, even though he'd won."
That is what you did to her. Turn about is fair play. Malfoy's words echoed in his ears, and began to make a twisted kind of sense. Even though he'd not been anywhere nearby when Rodolphus Lestrange was killed, Harry knew that it was not her husband who had been the subject of her obsession and utter devotion for decades. Harry had taken that person from her, and so she had, in turn, unerringly targeted the one without whom Harry could not survive.
Bellatrix was right. Who would have thought that a Mudblood could matter so much?
"Why not just kill Hermione the way you killed Voldemort?" Remus was playing devil's advocate, forcing Harry to think, to be absolutely sure… but he wasn't sure of anything.
Why not just kill her? An odd sort of joy tugged at his heart at the realization. She wasn't dead. She wasn't dead. But the road ahead of him remained dark and fraught with danger and uncertainty.
"Malfoy," Harry said shortly, pulling his mouth into a grim and taut line. "Malfoy's got to be involved. That's what he was talking about at the Ministry. He would have known - known - Hermione's importance to me… he would have known what the mystery surrounding her death would do… the - the lack of closure… the tiniest possibility that she was alive would have - it kept me - I was - and they were watching, enjoying my pain, Ron's pain - Malfoy couldn't have known how Ron and Hermione would part - Ron would have just been a bonus… and they've been - all this time… and who knows how Hermione - " His voice trembled and broke.
"Malfoy was in France," Remus reminded him gently. Harry looked at him stonily.
"Malfoy was seen in France a couple of times that evening, and not seen at the Battle. His own house-elves testified that he was at his house in France; the wards showed that he was there - but you don't think that the owner of that villa couldn't manipulate either of those? I'd bet my Gringotts' vault that he was under that cloak. The timing was exact. They probably felt it in their Marks the moment Voldemort died. But somebody - somebody had to have been tracking Hermione for them to appear when they did. When she disappeared, I was already on my way back from the tomb. I was on my way back…" He trailed off, thinking of how close he'd been - how he might have saved her. What-ifs and could-have-beens careened mercilessly across well-worn paths in his mind.
"And that necklace…" he continued. "I've never seen one like it before. Bellatrix yanked it off of Hermione's neck right before…it's got to be involved somehow." Harry pressed the fingertips of one hand to his forehead. "I need to talk to Luna," he said. "But I - " He stopped suddenly, and looked at Remus with realization in his eyes. "Wait a minute," he said. "Dolohov was one of the Death Eaters that Hermione wounded before she was disarmed. He escaped, must have portkeyed away at some point, but the Battle was so nearly over that he had to have already had the portkey on his person somewhere. Why did the person beneath the cloak toss Bellatrix a portkey? Why didn't she already have an escape route? She said `One minute'. During one of the replays, I timed it - and she disappeared exactly one minute later. Where did she go?"
"Harry, you don't necessarily know that the object was a portkey. We didn't even see what it was," Remus chided him gently.
"It was a portkey. Had to be," Harry said in a clipped way, resuming his pacing. "An automatic one - preset - she didn't have to activate it. Perhaps to get into a place with a lot of wards…" His eyes flared greenly, as he looked up at Remus. "The Malfoy villa in France… If Malfoy was under that cloak, it makes sense, because he would have had to authorize portkey entry personally. And since it's somewhere magical, she wouldn't have to use her wand at all - she'd have known it would have been registered, just in case…" Remus looked mildly surprised.
"Even though she was listed as dead?" Harry pursed his lips in near disgust.
"It's the Ministry's way of covering its own arse. Hermione's was registered too. It's one of the ways Neville got on Dolohov's trail before the end. He tried to mask it, but after he had that informant killed, I guess he got careless. There's never been any activity on either of the others. But the Ministry was too ready to end it all… chalk them up in the dead column, neat and tidy, and try to act as if this whole messy war never happened."
"Your department looked for her for months," Remus corrected, trying to absolve the Ministry - and subsequently Harry himself - of some of the guilt. "They let you look, even when you were still in training."
"Nobody ever closely examined your memory - or Ron's," Harry countered. "They never even tried to figure out the spell Bellatrix used. It was just easier to assume she was dead." But he stopped, stance slumped as he began to reshoulder the blame. "But then, neither did I, I suppose," he said glumly. "If there had been a ricochet, some kind of magical mishap, then no stone would have been left - but I never - it never occurred to me that Death Eaters would have any kind of plot that reached further than mere death."
There are things worse than death.
Bellatrix was right.
"I need to pay Malfoy a visit," he blurted grimly. Remus' expression became wary.
"Tonks told me what happened yesterday," he said. His voice was gently remonstrating, fatherly. "Do you really think that's wise?"
"It can't be helped," Harry said. "If Bellatrix isn't on-site, then I guarantee Malfoy knows where she is. And one or both of them know where Hermione is. This has been going on for five years, and I think that's long enough, don't you?" Remus was already reaching for his wand.
"Then I'm going with you." A flash of the old Marauder in him glinted in his weary eyes.
"No," Harry replied quickly, with steel in his voice. "If anything goes wrong… the Ministry would jump at the chance to make an example of you. And Tonks' job might be affected. You shouldn't be anywhere near it."
"And what do you think they'll do to you?" was Lupin's rejoinder.
"I don't care what they do to me. Don't you see? She's all that matters anymore. I'll do whatever it takes to bring her back." And woe betide anyone who gets in his way, Lupin mused, his eyes taking in Harry's stormy face.
"You can't go to Malfoy's villa alone," the werewolf protested. "At least take Ron. He's got nearly as much invested in this as you do." Harry appeared to at least consider this for a moment, but he soon shook his head.
"He's got Luna to worry about. This is my fight, Remus. I let this happen - "
"Harry, you had no way of knowing - "
" - I let this happen to her. I swore to myself that whatever happened in the Final Battle, that I'd keep Ron and Hermione safe, and I failed, Remus. I failed when it mattered most, and I failed the person who mattered most to me."
"Shouldn't you - wouldn't Shacklebolt give you back-up or something?" Remus felt desperate, groping at straws to keep Harry from throwing his life away on some precarious, barely substantiated suicide mission.
"I can't wait, Remus. Don't you understand? Kingsley has been far more patient with me than I deserve, but I don't even know that he'd give me any back-up. What little authority I still have will probably be gone in a couple of days. Besides, the sooner I get down there, the better chance there is that they haven't heard of Dolohov's death. If they think we have him in custody, and that he's talking… it might give me some leverage." He smiled at his father's old friend then, but it was tight and forced. His eyes were empty of every emotion save grim determination. Lupin recognized the look, for he'd seen it in Sirius' eyes before… and James' before that. Harry was going to end this - one way or another… and if he ended up wrong, and quite possibly dead, then so be it. He was going to play the hand he'd been dealt, and let the chips fall where they would.
"Harry - " he began, not quite sure what else to say.
"I should go," Harry interrupted. "If I wait too much longer, the crowds from the International Floo Conduits will have thinned. I'll be more likely to be noticed." At the door, he hesitated. "Thanks, Remus… for - for the Pensieve. I don't think I could have made it through that alone."
"You're welcome," Lupin said, feeling inane, helpless. What would he say? Don't do anything stupid? Kick Malfoy's skinny, pale arse once for me? "Your - your father would be very proud of you," he finally blurted, and watched as a melancholy ghost of a smile flitted mistily across Harry's face.
He let himself out of the front door without a sound.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Malfoy villa in Southern France had riverfront access, though the house itself was barely visible from the bank. It was highly warded; Muggles wouldn't even see a dock on the property, and wizards would probably be flung unceremoniously into the river for attempting access, while ward klaxons wailed shrilly inside the house. Lights lined the walkway, and several windows were honey-yellow, so someone was home. The lovely building sparkled like a jewel on an immaculate bed of green velvet, and Harry felt his gorge rise.
He crouched on the opposite bank, having transfigured all of his clothing to black, and considered what to do next. He couldn't just walk onto the grounds and ring the bell, at least not without stating his identity first, and he definitely didn't want to do that just yet.
However, whatever money and influence and important allies Malfoy had been able to buy, he was still a civilian, and Harry had a few tricks up his sleeves that he hoped would allow him access to the house with no one inside being the wiser.
He cast a soft detection spell that rushed smoothly and invisibly across the river, shimmering into faint color where the wards began, just on the river-side of the pier. He rocked back on his heels for a moment, pondering, and then stood, a dark outline against a steely sky, barely visible to any but the most eagle-eyed observer.
Harry briefly considered sending some kind of message to Ron or Luna, but discarded it, thinking that by this point, Lupin had surely let them know where he'd gone. If all went well - and his hands shook at the mere thought of it - perhaps he'd be bringing Hermione back to their flat tonight. Perhaps she was even now being detained in some lower room of the mansion. The hope rose up within him, heady and terrifying, as if he were standing on the very edge of a precipice and looking down. And in a way he was. If he was wrong, Malfoy would be crying foul to every official within Owling distance. His job, his reputation would be gone, ripped to shreds, his victory over Voldemort the only tether attaching him to respectability.
Harry's eyes drifted down to the fathomless blackness of the river.
But I'm not wrong.
He cast a wordless spell at his shoes, and a barely detectable movement of air rushed downwards. There was the slightest of shimmers around his feet. Harry stepped off the bank, throwing his invisibility cloak over his head. He would have to discard it before crossing onto Malfoy property - there were wards that would detect magical devices - but perhaps it would keep him from the eyes of any bored Muggles on balconies or boats.
He wobbled slightly as he stepped on the apparently semisolid surface of the river, keeping his eyes trained on the ornate railings of the dock beyond. It was rather like walking on gelatin. Don't look down, he told himself. His shoes were charmed to repel the water, allowing him to bob drunkenly across the river, but if he fell - well, the rest of him wasn't water-repellent, was it?
He reached the dock, and Banished the invisibility cloak back to the bank he'd just left, with a softly muttered spell. Before laying even a finger on the weathered wooden planking, he began a succession of intricate counter-wards, attempting to open a hole in the layers of spells guarding the Malfoy estate. He tried to ignore the moist slap of the water against the slimy pilings, as he bounced up and down with the gentle motion of the river.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. The ward against magical devices not only blocked such obvious things as unauthorized brooms or invisibility cloaks, but also wands. He certainly couldn't go in unarmed. Squeezing his eyes closed in hope or desperation, he transfigured his wand into a fountain pen, and tucked it into his pocket, and then clambered clumsily onto the dock.
He lay motionless for a moment, cheek against the warm, rough wood, and listened intently. Brilliant yellow light spilled across the lush lawn, but there was no sound of alarm from the interior. He got to his feet, but stayed low, working his way toward the house using what cover he could find. Narcissa Malfoy had exquisite taste, so there were several sculpted hedgerows punctuated with elegant statuary that hid him well.
His mouth was dry as dust, as he slowly circled the house, avoiding the pools of light. He could feel the power of a perimeter charm pulsing once he got within a meter or so of the house, and would not be able to get closer unless he returned his wand to its normal state.
Collapsing in the shadows of a pristine gazebo, he withdrew the fountain pen from his pocket, and performed two spells in one breath: one restoring his wand, and one casting a magical dampening field. He was still unsure about the presence of a wand-ward, but if there was one, perhaps a dampening field would prevent the blip from being noticed.
As he skirted the edge of another patch of light, a sudden rush of noise flattened him into the grass before he realized it was something from the Wizarding Wireless Network. He sauntered as closely as he dared, peering into the room from which the sound had come.
The magic from the perimeter charm nearly stood his hair on end. He barely dared breathe.
It appeared to be some kind of study or billiard room. High mahogany bookshelves full of gold-leafed first editions lined the walls, and rich, leather wingback chairs were clumped into tasteful groups. The burgundy felt field of a billiards table could clearly be seen, and three elegantly dressed men were playing a wizarding version of the game. He heard a distinctly feminine giggle, and slunk low to the ground again, but not before spotting another window across the room, around the corner from where he was now.
If he could break through the perimeter charm undetected, he might be able to breach that window and gain entrance to the room without being seen. It was all but obscured from the rest of the room by an Oriental screen and the side of one of the bookshelves.
The dampening field surrounding him sparked and crackled as it came into contact with the perimeter charm, as he rounded the corner of the house, and he froze, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth. Another laugh trilled out from the house, and he could hear the music more clearly now.
Sweat trickled from his hairline, and he could feel his heart racing, as he opened up a careful seam in the wards, and stepped through gingerly, in an effort not to snag the dampening field on anything.
Silently, he Vanished the glass in the window, and, bracing himself on the sill, hoisted himself through, landing on the polished hardwood floor as lightly as a cat. There was no lamp in this corner, and Harry was grateful. The screen was translucent enough to have broadcast his shadow to the entire room, if he'd been backlit. Now inside, he could hear the clack of billiard balls, something puffed into a small explosion, and there was another burst of laughter. Someone swore, evidently having gotten off a bad shot, and someone else hooted derisively.
He risked a look around the edge of the screen to pinpoint exactly where Draco Malfoy was in the room. He was not one of the small party participating in the game, but was sitting in a nearby chair, playing host to two expensively dressed, breathtakingly gorgeous women, listening to him raptly. Harry's upper lip curled in disgust.
So help me, Malfoy, I can't wait until I'm -
Something chirruped suddenly, and everyone in the room looked up, as Malfoy stopped mid-sentence and rolled his eyes.
"Bloody hell," he said, and flung up one arm, snapping his fingers. There was a deafening crack, as a house-elf, dressed in a filthy linen hand-towel, appeared near the door opposite Harry. "What's going on?"
"The wards is intact, Master Malfoy, sir," the elf replied, bobbing up and down in a succession of bows. "We is having a slight malfunction, but we is handling it, sir. Tristy apologizes for disturbing sir's party."
"Wards?" one of the women drawled, touching Draco's chest with a manicured index finger nail, and drawing it down his shirt-front. "Do that many people really hate you, Draco darling?" Malfoy smirked at her.
"Perhaps I just don't want anyone stealing you away from me…" he said, with a quirk of his eyebrows. Harry wished Ron was with him now, so they could have mimed retching motions together. Instead, he crouched in his corner, waiting for his moment. Malfoy turned back to his elf, all business. "What sort of malfunction?"
"Ghost image on the wards, sir," Tristy replied. "It showed a wand, but only for an instant. Wards is obviously malfunctioning. Tristy is repairing them with great haste."
"A wand?" Malfoy burst out. "Where? You pathetic excuse for a piece of flesh! Did it ever occur to you that we may actually have an intruder?"
And Harry saw his chance. The billiard game had ceased; everyone's attention was focused on the house-elf, facing away from him. He crept out from behind the screen, and raised his wand.
The other woman - not the one who'd flirted with Draco - tossed her hair at that moment, and the movement brought Harry into her peripheral vision. She started, but Harry felled her with a non-verbal Stupefy. She slumped into the chair, from which she'd been on the point of rising, without a sound.
He lifted his wand again, and set the billiard table on fire.
There were curses and exclamations, as the small party turned to the small conflagration. In the ensuing smoke and chaos, Harry methodically swept the room, in textbook Auror fashion, Stunning all of them before most realized anyone else was even present.
It all happened so quickly that Harry had disarmed Malfoy, almost before the Slytherin had realized anything was wrong. He stepped out of the dampening field, which now revealed itself as a translucent green sphere, and flung it across the room, where it surrounded the house-elf with an audible squelch, preventing it from leaving. He restrained the other members of the party, put out the billiard table, and Summoned Draco's wand, finally turning to face his nemesis.
"Remind me to kill my house-elf, after you've been arrested," Malfoy said, cocking one eyebrow at him and crossing his arms over his chest. "What brings you here, Potter? Career suicide? Or did you miss the melodrama that accompanied you through school?"
"I could kill you where you stand, Malfoy," Harry intoned in a world-weary voice, keeping his wand trained on Malfoy's chest.
"But you won't," Malfoy replied. "You obviously want something from me. What is it?"
--
AN: Argh! Action. Always what I think of as a weak spot. I always worry that it is too muddled or doesn't make any sense - or is just stupid. Hope this is okay.
You may leave a review on your way out (to assuage my insecurities!) if you'd like.
lorien
-->