Chapter 65 - Master and Slave
Hermione clenched her jaw and swallowed the lump in her throat. She did not know how he did it but she heard him in her head. Waterman's melodic barb lingered.
Murderess...
While the Squib said it out of spite she could not imagine that he would lie about that. There was no logical reason to disown Ron's murder. The insinuation was the truth as was what he said about the evidence of her indiscretion. Ron's actions at his last match and the words Ron said to her that afternoon made more sense now.
I figured it would happen even if we lost the game. I can't fix it.
Ron wasn't talking about them; he was talking about what Waterman was doing. The Squib was blackmailing him to throw the championship away and Ron intended to until the coach threatened to take him out. He apologized too. He apologized for being unable to handle a situation that was a result of something she did wrong. A disheartening feeling overcame her as she realized that his final act was to protect her reputation to keep her from losing a job he knew she loved in spite her and Harry's infidelity. And then he died. The Squib must have seen it happen.
Murderess...
Having gone through a year of believing that was the case one would think it would be easier. It wasn't and the circumstances surrounding the event made it worse. For a moment she wanted to curl up and not exist but there were more pressing matters before her that self loathing would have to take a back seat. There would be lots of time for that after they got rid of the bad guys.
She could only hope that the distrust she planted in Waterman would fester and work in their favour in the long run. Right now she had to deal with Malfoy. Being in the same room with him was making her queasy from a potent emotional mix of anger and disgust. Some of that emotion was not really meant for him.
"It was his choice. It wasn't your fault," Malfoy said, his tone a seemingly sincere attempt to give her rational perspective.
It annoyed her that he had the nerve to give her words of comfort and that what he said matched her ego's feeble attempt to do the same. Agreeing with him only made her feel worse.
"Nobody asked you," she replied coldly.
Malfoy bit his lip, deciding not to respond. He took out a phial from his pocket, drank its contents and the anti-Polyjuice potion transformed him back instantly to his likeness. This was much better; an easier to hate image. It would be perfect if he would talk to her with bigoted malice like he used to in Hogwarts. She would not have qualms whatsoever about being part of the cause of his suffering and death.
"I really hoped you wouldn't find out about this," he said as if an unwanted burden had been placed on his shoulders. "I should apologize."
"Don't bother. I should have seen it coming."
"It was kind of surprising to me that you didn't. You've got to hand it to Creevey; he knew what he was doing. So, what do you think? Is it unforgivable or just very hard to forgive?"
It was a great way to drub her bad judgment right in her face. There was no point in getting flustered and upset. She had a lot of work to do to get even.
"Where's Neville, Malfoy?"
"Malfoy..." he smiled and said to himself, "I guess that would be 'unforgivable'."
"Where's Neville?!"
"Does it matter? You can't do much about your friends' fates. Focus on what you need to do. The sooner it's done the better."
They already had the conversation about what could happen if she refused. Malfoy was smart for while he recognized she was prepared to die, he knew she would not want to see others lose their lives because of her. Then it hit her.
"You wanted Harry alive. You wanted him to come."
His silence answered her question. At the alley and at the Ministry, Waterman had opportunities to kill Harry but he didn't and this morning, on her note, Malfoy made sure Harry would try and find her. Harry was part of his plan all along, leverage to keep her in place, to make sure she would do as he asked.
Tears welled up in her eyes, furious at him for being good at what he was doing and her for not seeing the deception a mile away. What would make his old Hogwarts self fully break out for that one she had more confidence dealing with? She thought about Mia and what she said. Mia's desperation was somewhat becoming her own but for different reasons. It wouldn't hurt to try.
"Mia doesn't want you going through with this."
"How do you know that?"
"She told me."
"She showed herself and spoke to you?" Malfoy raised a brow, surprised at the start, curious at the end.
"Yes," Hermione kept her voice even, her wits about her, "She said she needed help to convince you not to continue."
"Did you tell her that was pointless?"
"More or less."
"Good."
"She seems to think it's possible."
"It's too late to stop. She knows that."
"Why is it too late? It can't be that difficult to let everyone go and turn yourself in," came her stoic reply.
He found that funny.
"After all that I've done, I can't stop now. I have nothing to show for."
"What do you want out of this?"
"The better potion; is it not obvious?"
The answer came too quickly. It was clearly a lie.
"If I make the potion better will you turn yourself in?"
Malfoy couldn't reply.
"I didn't think so. Because if it were about the potion you wouldn't have gone through all of this to make everyone think Neville's the Potion Master. If it were about the potion you wouldn't care if people knew it was you and you wouldn't care if you were sent to Azkaban for it."
"So, what do you think this is about for me?" he lifted his brows up and challenged.
Malfoy summoned a stool for himself, sat on it and slid one close to her. She didn't take it, intending to spurn any and every thing that came from him. Hermione wasn't expecting to be put on the spot and had not had the chance to think Ginny's now very plausible theory through. She'd have to do it on the fly.
"The Janus Prophecy."
"You don't believe in prophecies," he pointed out for the second time that day.
"Lestrange did and my guess is you do too," Hermione thought about the Grey Warlock and how he would fit right into it, "The Bruin potion whatever state it is in will result in social upheaval once the public gets a hold of it and the Grey Warlock, according to the prophecy, will be the calming voice of reason who will fix the mess. You can't be the Grey Warlock if you're caught with your hands in the same chaos inducing cookie jar."
"True, except I don't believe in prophecies either."
"Prophecy or not with this potion you can have what the Grey Warlock is supposed to have. It's about power. It always is with you evil gits."
"That and world domination," he let out a fake diabolical laugh, mocking or joking, she wasn't quite sure, "I've been typecast. How unfortunate."
"The potion is a means to an end."
"Go on, I'm listening," he egged her on, his expression unreadable, but she felt as if she was being giving slack to hang herself with.
"The magic enabling properties of Sophie Bruin's potion is mostly derived from elfin tissue. The rest are stabilizers and add-ons to negate the weaknesses inherent in the being from which the powers are taken from. House elves will always obey what their master asks of them."
"You figured that out so quickly. I'm impressed."
"You have Waterman under control and he's so dense he doesn't even know why. Once you have a more socially acceptable magical potion you'll have millions of unsuspecting slaves. I doubt it very much that your have to look like and sound like Neville to be able to do it. I'm guessing you're taking some variant of the Polyjuice, something of Neville's turned into potion."
"Essence of Longbottom. Not very tasty."
"Is that why you chose Neville? Because of Winky?"
"That was a bonus. I went with Longbottom months ago because he had been working on plant modifications with Professor Snape. I needed his expertise."
"Neville would never..."
"Experiment with something illegal?" he scoffed, "I was surprised too but Longbottom had a lot of time in his hands and I think he could not pass up working on something Tilden Toots had been working on. I checked up on Longbottom periodically but they weren't gaining ground fast enough. They could not replicate the success that Toots and Snape had. The closest they got to it was the monstrosity of the plant Matilda, the one Thomas met. We needed the real deal. Snape broke off his partnership with Longbottom, and being the unfair ass that he always was, Obliviated Longbottom before sending him away."
"And you killed Professor Snape because he found out," she retorted knowingly.
"He found out and knew too much. He also did not want to share what he and Toots worked on. I had to do what I had to do," Malfoy confirmed plainly as if he had no choice on the matter.
Hermione thought about Dean's description of the state in which the Potions Professor was discovered and felt sick.
"So you mutilated and killed the Professor for his knowledge, kidnapped Tilden Toots for his skill and framed Neville for everything."
"I needed a scapegoat. Longbottom was perfect."
"Not man enough to face the consequences of your actions, huh. You've always been a coward."
She saw a definite flinch and a flash of anger briefly escape his calm exterior but he was able to gather himself in time, saying matter-of-factly, "I prefer cunningly creative. The opportunity to have another Longbottom suffer in the hands of my family was too good to pass up. Aunt Bella referred to it as 'poetic injustice'."
That was the only reason for Waterman being Neville at the Ministry. Renewed revulsion filled Hermione as she realized the next thought.
"All those deaths yesterday, all of it just to make the MLE look the other way so you can save your hide. And saving Harry's life? Nice touch. That clinched it for a lot of skeptics."
"That did not go down the way it was supposed to," Malfoy reflexively became defensive. "Tom was to rough people up and make Neville's transformation believable but he got carried away. He's vile enough without the potion and being on it makes him even more so."
"How did he know what to say? He knew Kingsley, Dean and everything about Neville."
"Tommy is a talented con man among other things. He is very good at lying. He studied Longbottom like he would any target and we made up a good story that he could sell," he explained, "As you know by now, a lot of it was somewhat true."
"Somewhat true?" she repeated, trying her best to keep just indignation at bay but did not have much success, "They were baseless lies! You framed an innocent man for horrible crimes and his life may never be the same again! You brought about so much death and this isn't over yet! The talk about wanting a perfect potion to prevent chaos and to stop the Bruins from killing each other, of turning it over to the Ministry for it to do as it pleased, lies just to get sympathy from idiots like me…"
"I guess that's one way of seeing it…" he interrupted but she wasn't done.
"You're a sick bastard! You are every bit like your father was and you deserve what he got!" she spat at him, hoping the biting words would hurt him.
"I'm not like my father."
She hit another sore spot.
"Oh yes, you did get rid of the boss. I guess you're smarter, I'll give you that," she retorted, her words dripping with animosity, "Was it a right of passage to kill your aunt? Was her retirement not good enough for you or did she change her mind you had to rub her off the picture?"
"I did everyone a favor. She wasn't a very good person, wouldn't you agree?" he asked her pointedly.
Hermione was about to reply when she noticed Malfoy's expression softening. Someone had just joined them and answered for her.
"No, Bellatrix wasn't the best human being, but that's not an excuse for murder."
It was Mia, the look of disappointment etched deeply within her eyes it looked like nothing could take it away.
"Technically, I didn't kill her," Malfoy stressed, his attention all on the ghost. "Are you finally talking to me again?"
Mia answered, "That depends. Are you ready to listen? If you still aren't then there's no point."
"You should stay out of this. Ghosts aren't supposed to meddle in things concerning the living."
"I don't care about being reprimanded by Council," the phantom declared.
That seemed to exasperate Malfoy, evidenced by an increased strain in his voice, "It can prevent you from crossing over!"
"What you're doing is what's preventing me from crossing over!" her voice broke and then she pleaded with him, "Tell her why you're really doing this. It's not too late. Maybe she can help."
Hermione did not want Mia to get the wrong message and had to put an end to that wishful thinking.
"He knows not to waste his breath."
As she responded, she felt sorry for the ghost for falling for the wrong guy. While she did not know Mia well it galled her how Malfoy had managed to get Mia to believe that all this was her fault.
"Granger knows what I'm capable of. I'm the Grey Warlock, I've walked both light and dark and I'll use the potion to gain Muggle and magical control," he turned to Hermione, using her to get Mia riled up, "She doesn't know me like you do."
"Will you stop it?! This is exactly the same dismissive tone he used when Bellatrix first told him about the Prophecy just to make her go away."
"I didn't do a very good job, did I?"
"He told her to leave him alone but she wouldn't, especially after I died."
"I think it's safe to say I finally got her to do that," Malfoy said without remorse.
Mia continued to address Hermione, coming to Malfoy's defense, "Think it through, Hermione. He picked a free elf, a reasonable goblin and a centaur who could work with wizards to immortalize through plants. If he wanted control he would have picked one of their family elves. He thought a free elf would not be as susceptible to becoming someone's slave. That's why he chose Winky."
That did make sense or...
"Maybe he planned poorly. You can't expect him to get brownie points for that. Murder is still murder."
"It's a lost cause, Mia. Give it up. I'm the Grey Warlock. Slytherin and Gryffindor were nobodies compared to me."
Malfoy was laughing as if the idea was ridiculously funny. It was.
"He's doing this because of what happened to me."
Should Hermione point out that it didn't matter?
"He blames himself that I died and he's trying to make up for it. He wants my death to mean something. He thinks he can do that by finishing what I started."
Those last words sent a red flag up. What did she start? This whole thing stemmed from the Bruin concoction. Was she talking about that first batch of magic enabling potion? Malfoy had quieted down, the residual grin on his expression incongruent with the tone of his rebuttal to what Mia just said.
"Correction. I'm finishing what my family started and getting rid of some of them in the process."
"You made the potion first?" Hermione asked Mia, needing clarification.
"Yes, although disappointingly not very well. I killed a lot of people," Mia admitted with regret, "Potion making was a hobby Draco and I shared. I knew my potions but it was arrogant to think I could do it considering I knew for a fact I wasn't the one prophesied to. I should have declined when Teddy pitched the idea but it was just difficult to resist."
The ghost paused, the remorse on her face so deep that Hermione knew she was remembering the ones who died. So she was the one who made the potion showcased at the Ghoul last year. Her not Malfoy and Malfoy had picked up where she left off to get revenge. But Lestrange was dead. That begged the question, if this was really about retribution then what were they still doing here?
"Draco didn't know I had agreed to do it and he feels it's his fault that I got mixed up with Teddy and Tommy. Teddy asked him first and when he said 'no' Teddy went behind his back and asked me."
Hermione got a sense that it was the first time Malfoy was hearing this and although Mia was trying to convince her, the ghost was looking at him. It must have been easier for Mia to tell him through her. There were no rebuttals from Malfoy this time. At that moment, both forgot she was there.
"He wouldn't have had I just brewed the bloody thing for him in the first place."
"It was fate."
"There is no such thing as fate," he disagreed. "If he hadn't told you about the prophecy and what it had done to the Bruins you would have never done it. He knew exactly which buttons to push."
"Teddy had a good point about how making it would put a stop to the clandestine potion-making and end centuries of Bruins murders."
She remembered Malfoy mentioning that Mia was a do-gooder.
"Teddy was a manipulative bastard who would have said anything to get you on board. As far as I'm concerned he deserved what he got for using you."
"We were killing each other. I did it for my family."
Bruins…family…difficult to resist…she was a Bruin…
"You did it for me."
"Why do you men always think it's about you?" she answered Draco, somewhat in frustration.
"Honestly Mia. You never could lie well enough."
"What I did had nothing to do with you. Why would I do it for you? We were done, remember?" Mia turned to Hermione and said, "He's vain not to mention as stubborn as a mule."
'Done' as in 'finished'?
"My family set you up. They used what we had so you couldn't refuse."
"And he has such a low opinion of them too."
"That's because I know how rotten they are. Do you know what Aunt Bella said when she found out who your family was? She said had she and my Mum known before you died they wouldn't have been against our engagement."
"I wasn't good enough for him," Mia answered her unspoken question about why the Blacks were not fond of her.
"I told you I didn't care that you were a Squib and I didn't care that they didn't approve."
Did he just say what she heard him say?
"I guess that wasn't the reason why you broke up with me," Mia smiled a forced one, not doing a good job of masking the hurt and resentment she felt.
"I was stupid and spineless," Malfoy finally said something Hermione agreed with, "I should have stood up to them about you and put my foot down sooner. But you wouldn't take me back after I finally did and after I begged you to. You did this instead. You wanted to be magical to please me and my family who treated you like dirt. They all should have left us alone like I asked them to."
"Your Mum and Aunt just wanted you to be happy."
"We were happy without them."
"Yeah, we were," Mia concurred in a whisper, nodding her head slightly. "But that wouldn't have lasted if they weren't. It's too bad we can't choose our family."
As Malfoy and Mia talked Hermione was feeling immensely out of place but so drawn to the conversation she wanted to find out more. Hermione tried to piece the sequence of events together.
The ferret broke up with Mia because Mummy and Aunt Bella did not want him marrying a Squib. At some point after that Teddy and Tommy stumbled upon the Bruin potion recipe and asked their potion-making cousin to make it for them. Malfoy turned them down so Teddy pitched the idea to Mia by appealing to her helpful nature, highlighting tragic Bruin stories.
While Mia did not admit to it, she did not deny it either. From the sounds of it, Malfoy was accurate in his assessment that in addition to that, Mia made and took magic enabling potion so she could be good enough for the Black sisters. She fell ill, died, maybe in and around the time the Watermans revealed the potion at the Ghoul last year, at which point Lestrange found out and took over.
The Dark Witch wasn't in on the potion-making thing until after Teddy died and according to Malfoy did not know Mia was a Bruin until after Mia died. Squib or not, how did Teddy know Mia was a Bruin? Who told Lestrange? How did Malfoy find out? Wasn't that supposed to be something only a fellow Bruin would know? She glanced at Malfoy and Mia and did not think they would be inclined to answer if she asked.
Malfoy and the ghost ended their exchange heavy hearted and it weighed her down too. It may have been the potion that killed her but Malfoy blamed himself for putting her in a situation where she had no choice. Between the Bruins and Malfoy, how could she refuse?
Finally, Mia said to him.
"Teddy is dead, your Mum is dead, Bellatrix is dead, and Tommy is as good as dead. By having Section 55 repealed you have given the research world freedom to learn more about magic enablers. It won't be long before someone comes up with a better potion. You don't have to go through with this."
"I do," Malfoy disagreed, "It killed you to make this potion better. I have to finish what you started. We're very close."
"This is not the right way," the Ghost tried to inject sense into him, "It can't be."
"I can end this. Your family can stop hiding. After I'm done no other Bruin has to die," Malfoy explained his side.
"I died, Draco and no matter what you do you can't bring me back from the dead."
That was it, the hard truth that had to be told. Malfoy just stood there, stunned by the reality that was just thrust in his face.
You can't bring me back from the dead.
Mia spoke. It was a request.
"It's over, Draco. Let me go."
"I can't," he replied, uncompromising, "I have to do this so I can live with myself. I want you to leave. You shouldn't witness what I'm about to do."
"Please..." Mia's voice quivered, transparent tears flowing down her cheeks, disappearing as they fell off her face.
"I'm sorry, about everything."
Defeated by the finality of his decision, Mia did as she was asked. Malfoy gazed vacantly at the wall where the dejected ghost disappeared for the second time, resolute that there was no ending it the way Mia hoped it still could.
Hermione saw Malfoy as she had never seen before, vulnerable. For a second she felt as he did. She did not agree with his methods but scarily enough she understood him.
He let out a big sigh, waved his hand in the air and simply said, "Now that we have all of that out of our systems we can get some work done."
The solid partition to her left dissolved into thin air revealing the adjacent plant lab, well equipped with a time pressure greenhouse and sunroof that directed natural light in. Her eyes were immediately drawn center stage where strange looking potted plants were actively growing and sprouting equally unusual flowers and fruits. The mere sight gave her goose bumps.
In the midst of the shrubbery was an exhausted Tilden Toots, his three thumbs reflecting a dark forest green, his right hand brandishing his wand with such flourish that reminded her of a conductor in an orchestra. Then the Herbologist stopped, looked at Malfoy and announced.
"Tell Longbottom it's done."
Malfoy turned to her.
"You're up."
XXXXXXXXXX
Neville was the Nutty Professor. If he was here all along and 'nutty', who was the Neville imposter who cursed everyone at the Ministry and came to Waterman's aid earlier?
It was without a doubt an elaborate scheme to get everyone to believe that Neville was the Potion Master. The only reason why someone would do that was if the real Potion Master was an obvious suspect. His gut had already picked his favorite one and the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.
"The Mimbulous Mimbletonia is classified as a pet plant in that it behaves and acts just like any Muggle pet would..."
Still fighting off the bright lights, Harry could see through the slits of his eyelids that one of the students was aiming at Neville. He instinctively winced for his friend who seemed to be in an intellectual trance. He either did not recognize he was about to be cursed or didn't care.
"Crucio!"
"It has feelings and emotions just like any magical being..."
"Crucio!"
"It goes through the same phases as most beings do, infancy, childhood, pubescent, adolescent, young adulthood..."
"The spell just doesn't work on him," Harry heard one of the students grumbling in frustration. "He's downright mad."
While at another time he would have wished Neville would stop his plant rant, he was quite happy to hear it today. He'd have to ask Neville how he had been able to block out the pain of the Cruciatus. The group began trying the Imperius curse without much success either.
The distraction was good for at least he could plan what to do next. From his perspective it was simple really. Get himself lose, secure a wand, and put down this band of misfits before him. Then there was getting out of where they were. He didn't know if Neville was with it enough to contact the Ministry and let someone know where to find them. He also had to get to Hermione and Andy in whatever order it presented itself. The only question was would there be enough time before Waterman or Malfoy returned.
Whack!
A nasty blow connected to the side of his head momentarily making him hear birds tweeting. He did not have to open his eyes to know who it was.
"Done with your little nap, Potter?"
Sniggering voices in the background suggested that the class had stopped to witness Waterman humiliate him further.
"Why don't you show some balls and let me fight you fair and square?" he goaded.
"Maybe later," the Squib replied, "After I give Marsh what she deserves."
The sniggering resumed.
Then he overheard the teacher, "She's been out the whole time you were gone."
"Good. She'll be feisty. Just the way I want her," Waterman replied, "I'll be an hour, maybe more. Nobody disturb me unless the Potion Master asks for Potter."
"Gotcha Boss."
Harry peered through the lights again just in time to witness him drink the contents of a phial bottoms up and go through a door that led into sleeping quarters. He definitely had to move the plan along.
"Gotcha Boss? Kiss ass piece of dung," he said loud enough to hear but just barely.
"What did you say?!"
Getting the teacher's attention was the easy part.
"Does he make you do his laundry too? It's a wonder you get respect," he murmured.
From what Harry could hear and sense the teacher was moving closer. Yes, just a bit more. He reached up as far as he could and grasped the metal chains in his hands tightly, bracing himself.
Whack!
Harry felt another blow to the same side of his face, tasted blood and spat right into the teacher's face.
"Not surprising. You hit like a schoolgirl just like your boss does."
Timing the next blow, he opened his lids slightly, just in time to see it unfold. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled and hoisted his body up by his arms, swung his legs over the teacher's shoulders and gripped his opponent's head between his knees. In the same motion, he wrapped a slack of chain around the shocked man's neck and as the latter tried to grab and hold him, Harry wrestled and won his wand. Harry wasted no time sweeping, aiming and discharging spells at specific points around him.
Relashio! Relashio! Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!
Click! Click! Chink! Chink! Chink!
The bonds on his wrists released and the three bright hot spotlights on him broke, glass shattering into pieces. He dismounted the teacher who was instantaneously pulled up by the shortened chains, the latter's hands struggling to free himself as he began choking. Harry was able to open his eyes and adjust fully before his feet touched ground, parrying a weak curse from a confident upstart student.
Accio incasabils! Recyclus phialus!
Light purple smoke replaced the phials mid air between him and his foes, the panicked and distressed look he saw on their faces replacing surprised ones earlier. One of them was shaking so much he dropped his wand and it rolled off to the side, stopping at Neville's feet.
Neville picked it up and asked, "Do you need some help, Harry?"
Harry saw that he had it pointed at the students, pissed as he should have been.
"Most definitely. Fire away, Professor."