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The Other Boy Who Lived by Kwan
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The Other Boy Who Lived

Kwan

 

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"Sirius Black. Certainly not who I was expecting."

Lord Voldemort of Little Hangleton stood over Sirius, watching him intently. Picking up the diadem, Voldemort held it to the dim torch lights of the room they were in. Sirius couldn't tell exactly where they were for there were no windows and the lighting was generally poor save for some strategically placed torches.

"Sorry to disappoint," Sirius spit out some of the excess saliva in his mouth onto the path of Voldemort's pacing.

Voldemort stopped, staring at the droplets of spit at his feet. He chuckled to himself, a low rumble that echoed in the undeterminable space of the chamber. He shook his head to himself as if he were quietly laughing at his own joke before fixing his red eyes straight at Sirius.

Sirius felt a slight probe in his mind and immediately knew that Voldemort was attempting to invade it. He struggled to close his mind, but Occlumency was never his forte. He was always too fiery and too impassioned to clear his mind of nothing but nothingness. He could feel Voldemort quickly do away with the miniscule barriers he managed to raise in his head.

He could see a rush of memories fly through in his head as Voldemort probed and sorted through his mind. Snippets of his childhood and life at Hogwarts flashed quickly in his head as Voldemort continued to search for the important, necessary memories. Several years of life in Azkaban scrolled by, which even caused Voldemort to hurry through the memories. Eventually, Voldemort found two key memories in his mind.

Sirius desperately fought to kick Voldemort off his head, but months of lackadaisical magical application and heavy drinking paid a toll in parts of his brain. He was unable to stop the madman from retrieving the memory of Harry ordering him to find Neville and Neville instructing Sirius how to destroy the Horcruxes. With a heavy exhale, Sirius lurched forwards as Voldemort released him from the hold in his mind.

"So the boy has done well…" Voldemort muttered.

"Well enough…to…kill you," Sirius gasped out in between breathes.

"Not even close," Voldemort dismissed the comment offhandedly as if he were speaking in facts and truths.

"But it seems as if he can't destroy the Horcruxes himself…" Voldemort continued to wonder aloud, not particularly caring if Sirius could hear.

As Voldemort continued to ruminate on his thoughts, Sirius took the time to examine his surroundings and formulate, however implausible, an escape plan. There were no windows or visible doors to indicate any sort of exits. Perhaps there could have been a door or an entrance somewhere in the chamber, but the dark shadows obscured the edges of the room and didn't allow Sirius a good visible contact of exit. Voldemort didn't bother to bound him or even cast any spells. He only took away his wand.

But Sirius knew that without his wand, he wouldn't be able to run any further than two feet before Voldemort cursed him down. He needed to summon his wand back. He started focusing his energy on wandlessly summoning his wand from its spot on a nearby mahogany desk. He focused on the summoning charm and his wand, hoping that he could generate enough magic for it to work.

Voldemort continued to pace, lost in his own thoughts. At least that's what it looked like to Sirius as he attempted to wandlessly summon his wand. This, too, was never his forte. Although Sirius considered himself a powerful wizard, it required a different skill set in order to perform magic wandlessly. If you weren't born with that much power, you would need a very concentrated and focused mind and unfortunately for Sirius, his just wasn't up to par at that very moment.

"Don't bother, Black. You're not escaping from here," Voldemort said, continuing on as if they were having a normal conversation.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Always with your deplorable sense of humor. It's a wonder you didn't manage to talk your way out of Azkaban."

"Does it hurt? Knowing you were adopted?"

Voldemort whirled around at the comment, his eyes narrowing as Sirius smiled, knowing he hit a nerve. He knew enough about Voldemort's past to press the right buttons. If he could get Voldemort to lose concentration for just one split moment…

But Voldemort immediately smoothed over his snakelike features and smiled at Sirius, showing a row of pointed teeth, "I must admit that a small bit of me admires your ability to humor me even in the face of certain death."

"Being in your presence is certainly enough to kill me."

"I had hoped to manage that."

"Mission succeeded."

"Enough."

Voldemort finished with the pleasantries and struck Sirius with a Crucio for good measure. After releasing him from the torture curse, Voldemort paced around him like a predator stalking its prey. Sirius was on his hands and knees, his back aching and his mind pulsing as the after effects of the torture curse coursed through him.

"I want you to know this, Black. I want you to know that Longbottom will not succeed."

"Doesn't take much to get rid of you, Voldemort. You can die just like the rest of us - Horcruxes or not."

"I don't need these paltry Horcruxes," Voldemort sneered, revealing a piece of information that surprised Sirius, "Shocking, isn't it? You thought that was the key. You thought that if you, Longbottom, and his merry band of followers could destroy the Horcruxes, he could finally kill me."

Sirius wasn't going to say it, but Voldemort already knew he was right.

"Allow me to tell you that destroying the Horcruxes is certainly not the end game, Black. Allow me to tell you that I would hand deliver the Horcruxes to Longbottom as long as he was in my presence."

"You don't seem to be good at this keeping yourself immortal thing then."

"I was young," Voldemort admitted, "Foolish. I thought that Horcruxes were the only way to achieve immortality. But - that's certainly not the case now."

"Then what is it?" Sirius couldn't help but ask, hoping that Voldemort would indulge in his narcissistic tendencies and reveal his 'grand' plan.

"Though I suppose there's no harm in telling you since you will die, I'll refrain myself from doing so. You've already given me more than enough information for me to complete the process."

Sirius was confused by this statement. Voldemort couldn't possibly be referring to his memories. There was nothing in there but Harry ordering him to find Neville and Neville showing him how to destroy the Horcruxes. How could either of those memories help Voldemort achieve immortality?

"I can practically see the gears in your head, Black. You're trying to figure out - how? How is he doing this?" Voldemort was smug, relishing in his own supposed genius.

"I'm actually trying to figure out the fastest way to kill you, but I appreciate the thought."

Voldemort tossed his head back, laughing maniacally at the unintended joke, "You couldn't kill me even if I was wandless and you were in possession of all your faculties."

"Care to find out?"

Voldemort stopped laughing, the sudden change in demeanor reminding Sirius of those insane, bipolar individuals that were sometimes imprisoned in Azkaban.

"You've tarried long enough, Black. It's time for you to join the ranks of the dead…Mauraders," Voldemort drawled out the last word, the sarcasm very much intended.

"After you, asshole."

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"So what did the Death Eater say?" asked Seamus.

Harry squinted into the London skyline, looking for a needle in a haystack.

"He needs Neville and he thinks the Muggles will fold if Voldemort puts a bit of pressure on them."

"But why does he need Neville?" Hermione implored.

"Death Eater didn't know."

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me, I know," Harry said with an air of finality.

Hermione chose not to push the matter, knowing that if Harry wanted to find out, he would.

"Then why do you think he needs Neville?" Dean interjected.

"I suppose the obvious answer would be to kill him," Padma pondered.

"Too obvious," Michael countered, "He can kill him whenever he finds him. Why does he need him now? Why does he need him so soon?"

"So we've established Voldemort has a time restraint?" the other Ravenclaw offered.

"Not necessarily," Michael continued, "Perhaps he needs Neville's actual physical presence."

"But why would he need Neville other than to kill him?"

"That's the million Galleon question," Malfoy finished.

"Either way," Harry said as he started walking towards the city, "Voldemort finding Neville is a bad thing. We can worry about what Voldemort wants after we find Neville."

"How do you suppose we find him then?" Ron squinted at the horizon, gazing at the destructed and misshaped buildings of London.

"Neville would probably be after the Horcruxes if he were truly in London," Hermione murmured.

"But a Horcrux could be anything!" Seamus stated incredulously.

"It could be anything, but it's not. Voldemort was very specific when he created the Horcruxes. He would want it safe. He would want it guarded."

"If that's the case, why would he place a Horcrux inside a safe that explodes in Fiendyfire?" Malfoy bluntly asked, idly touching the unblemished side of his mask.

"I don't particularly know," Hermione scrunched her nose, "That part doesn't really make any sense. Perhaps Voldemort thought the benefits of killing the destructor of the Horcrux outweighed the survival of the Horcrux itself."

"That still doesn't make too much logical sense. Why not create something that would ensnare the destroyer and keep the Horcrux intact? Create a Portkey out of the safe or jinx the safe to curse whoever opens it instead," Malfoy continued to counter.

"I don't know, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, "Perhaps you'd like to englighen us since you seem to be an expert on the topic."

"Hardly an expert - I just think that if he wanted to protect his precious souls, he would find a much better way than that."

Harry stayed silent as Hermione implored him with her eyes to rebuke his right hand man. But Harry refused, silently agreeing with Malfoy. There was something rather odd about the carelessness which Voldemort seemingly employed when it came to the shards of his soul. Harry's silence was answer enough for Hermione who deflated slightly at Harry's disapproval.

"Hey," Harry said softly, tapping the underside of her chin, "We'll find him."

"Alive, I hope," Hermione replied demurely.

"Don't do that. You're the only one of us left without a bleak outlook of the world," Harry joked.

"That's going quickly down the drain. I thought we had it tough," Hermione looked up to meet Harry's eyes meaningfully.

Harry shrugged, "You live, you learn. As long as we find a way to get Neville out of here before the Muggles show up, we'll have done this part of our job."

Dean's shrill whistle broke them from their conversation, "If you two lovebirds are done ogling each other, we've got a guy with a scar to find!"

"Dean and Seamus always seem to be chipper enough."

"Dean and Seamus would be chipper even if they were riding a train to hell," Harry stated flatly.

They eventually came to a conclusion that their best shot at finding Neville would be to return to one of the suspected locations of the Horcrux. Hermione still had a list of potential places, but the Trio had never ventured into London for fear of being too close to Voldemort. Now given a free pass and a unit escort, Hermione retrieved her list and looked at the very top. On the top of the parchment was a location that was both circled and underlined.

"Knockturn Alley."

Harry took great care to avoid all the major streets and roadways in London. It was in their best interest not to draw the attention of a horde of Death Eaters in the middle of their own encampment. They traveled quietly, not daring to speak any louder than a few decibels as they communicated through mostly quick hand signals and head jerks. Once or twice, Harry thought he felt a stronger magical presence than the average wizard, but it went away as quickly as it came.

As they approached the usual entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry took a moment to settle the unit and recon the area. He pointed his finger at the entrance at made a circling motion to Seamus, indicating that he wanted the Irishman to do a lap around the establishment and report back with any findings. Harry next pointed from his eyes to the building to Padma, signaling that he wanted the Ravenclaw to perform a revealing spell to ascertain the number of individuals inside the pub. Finally, he only he needed to glance at Malfoy to let him know that he wanted an Entrapment charm set around the building. It was a variation of the Anti-Apparition Wards except it also temporarily disallowed the residents to physically escape as well.

Seamus came back with nothing to report but Padma delivered the grave news. The pub was crawling with Death Eaters and if there were that many Death Eaters inside the Leaky Cauldron, there would be even more within Diagon and Knockturn Alley. Harry ran his hand through his hair as he surveyed the seemingly quiet front.

"…at the very least twenty Death Eaters around the bar alone. Who knows how many are actually inside the alley?" Padma reported.

"We can't all possibly go in there," Seamus pointed out.

"We can't," Harry concluded, "It'll have to be small. About…three of us…"

"I'm going," Hermione immediately insisted.

Harry wrinkled his noise, clearly showing displeasure at the fact. But he didn't have any other choice in the matter for she obviously knew the most on Voldemort's possible Horcruxes.

"I'll do it," Malfoy surprisingly volunteered.

"Can't," Harry said dismissively, "You're too recognizable."

"Glamour."

"Won't take the chance. They can easily detect your magical signature."

Harry met Malfoy's stony gaze with an insistent look, ordering him to stand down. Malfoy relented but not without giving Harry a nasty look.

"I'll do it," Padma announced, "It'll be less conspicuous if you have two females with you. You can just say we're your prisoners."

"Fair point."

There were no other complaints from the unit as they knew Padma was well prepared to handle herself should the situation turn dire. After a few custom glamour charms, Hermione and Padma were respectively changed into a blonde and an obviously dyed redhead. As Padma and Hermione found spaces for their hidden wand holsters, Malfoy took the opportunity to sidle up next to Harry and speak under his breath.

"This is dangerous. Waltzing into the middle of a Death Eater camp with minimal exit plans?"

"Necessary. If we don't find Neville soon, the Muggles will take this entire place down themselves and Boy-Who-Lived or not, we'll definitely be out of luck."

"I don't give two shits about Longbottom," Malfoy pointed out, "But you're going to put Granger at risk. She doesn't know how these Death Eaters work."

Harry gulped, flashes of war stories echoing in his head. He took a deep breathe, calmly trying to rationalize the decision. Hermione was the only one who could properly identify what or what not Voldemort would use as a Horcrux. Though Harry would have preferred to take Ron and keep Hermione out of a very dangerous circumstance, Ron would not be nearly as helpful in the task. Time was not on their side and the only way they could execute this mission quickly was to take Hermione deep into enemy territory.

"I won't let any harm come to her," Harry promised.

"Maybe so, but not even you can prevent the worse."

Malfoy left the conversation on that tone and slinked away.

"Yes I can," Harry whispered.

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"Is this necessary?" Hermione fussed, pulling at the bits of her clothing that revealed too much skin.

Padma slapped Hermione's hands away from the torn clothing, "We're supposed to be his prisoners. If we don't look disheveled, they're going to think something's wrong."

"Absolutely barbaric," Hermione continued to mutter as she took in her appearance. Her shirt was torn in several places, revealing patches of skin and some of her bra. She wore a knee-length skirt that had a slight slit on one side of the leg, revealing just a bit too much for her liking. Padma was similarly disheveled, their costumes a necessity to prove their capture.

"Are we all set?" Harry turned the corner, his hair charmed to fall to his shoulders and his eyes changed from their usually vivid green to a dull brown.

Hermione nodded, accepting the task at hand despite her discomfort, "Let's go."

"Wait! One more thing!" Michael exclaimed as they were about to exit.

Michael raced over to Harry and grabbed his wrist. Ignoring Harry's protest, Michael whispered a charm and implanted a fake version of the Dark Mark on the underside of Harry's wrist.

"Authenticity."

"I don't know how you can stomach that," Seamus looked disgusted at the very mark.

Harry shook his arm so that his sleeve covered the tattoo. He would only show it when necessary for the very sight of it also sickened him. Clearing his throat, Harry jerked his head towards the door and held Hermione and Padma by their arms, mimicking a frog march that was expected of his so called 'prisoners.'

As they approached the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry hurriedly whispered last minute instructions to the pair of them, "Keep your heads low, the less they see of you - even Glamoured - the better. If anything goes to shit, both of you escape as quickly as possible. Don't worry about me. I can handle myself."

Harry paused slightly as he saw someone peek out through the window overlooking the street. Resuming his stride, Harry leaned down to whisper one more order, "Stay together at all costs. Padma, if something happens, Malfoy has the hook and ladder ready."

"What's the hook and ladder?" Hermione asked with her head still pointed downwards.

Harry didn't answer the question as he walked the last few feet with Padma and Hermione in tow. He had both of his hands in the crooks of their elbows, pulling them harshly along. Adopting a slightly haggard yet bored look, Harry rapped on the wooden door with his knuckles. A teenager, not much older than Harry, opened the door and looked inquisitively at Harry.

"Got some fresh meat," Harry said in a smooth tone as he jerked his head to Padma and Hermione.

"Quite," the teenager leered at the pair of girls. He looked up at Harry and Harry returned his stare with an authoritative one of his own.

"Who sent for you?" the teenager suddenly asked.

Harry paused, the gears churning in his head for a particular Death Eater's name. The teenager looked a bit agitated that Harry didn't respond right away and Harry could see his hand slowly towards his side. Knowing he had to say something to keep his cover, Harry gambled and said the only name that came to mind.

"Bates."

The teenager frowned, looking a bit perplexed but not overtly suspicious. Scratching his head, the teenager shrugged, "Bates only got here a few hours ago but the beast is insatiable. Come on in."

Harry kept his surprise to a minimum as he crossed the threshold and felt the Anti-Apparition wards take hold. The fact that Bates was here was not lost on both Hermione and Padma. Harry felt Hermione unintentionally move a bit closer to his side at the mere mention of Bates' name. Keeping his hair over his eyes to slightly conceal his face, Harry navigated through the unusually crowded bar, making sure to keep Hermione and Padma close yet not so close that he looked protective.

Hermione felt a couple of hands brush her sides and butt as they maneuvered through the crowd and did everything she could from yelping out. She nonetheless shivered at the crass contact, feeling the bile rise in her throat as flashes of another attack rose to the forefront of her mind. Taking deep breathes, she kept her composure as Harry reached the brick stones that lead to Diagon Alley. Harry tapped the stones in the necessary order and tucked his wand back into his robes.

"Remember, don't lose each other," Harry muttered to them as they stepped into Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was a mere memory of what it used to be. Instead of being a crowded marketplace for regular customers and upcoming students, it turned into housing developments for the Death Eaters and their few prisoners. It didn't take long for Hermione to figure out that most of their prisoners were females. She walked by a few of them and noticed they all had the same empty look in their eyes, devoid of any emotion or hope. Hermione couldn't help but tighten her elbow around Harry's arm, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

Harry noticed the movement but didn't do anything to otherwise alert the hundreds of Death Eaters roaming the streets. Most of them paid no attention to another supposed Death Eater and his two prizes, but a few of them cast a customary approving look over Padma and Hermione. The more forward Death Eaters even went as so far to give the girls a squeeze as they passed by.

"Just a little further," Harry muttered, hating the fact that he had to drag the pair into such undesirable circumstances.

"Over there," Hermione tugged Harry slightly as she spotted Borgin and Burkes.

Harry walked over to the rundown store and opened the door, the tinkle of the bell notifying the shop owner that he had a customer. An elderly looking man, his countenace very sour and grumpy, examined the trio as they entered the shop. They looked to be the only customers inside.

"What can I do for you?" he croaked.

"Borgin?" Harry asked as he let go of the girls.

"That'd be right," Borgin replied.

"You still selling?"

"All sorts o' items. Got some of them new squeezer chains in the back if you're looking fo' things that you can use on these lassies. Also got some other…adventurous things if you're into that sort o' thing. Personally, I'm ain't, but I've made my fair share of coin out o' it," Borgin answered in his strange accent.

"I'm not exactly looking for that," Harry looked disgusted as he pointed his wand at Borgin.

"Ain't no use doing that laddie," Borgin didn't look threatened at all by the wand, "Second you fire a spell, whole lot of 'em will come running to investigate if you're even who you say you are."

"Perhaps," Harry jerked his head towards the door, wanting Padma to lock it to keep this confrontation quiet, "I'm just looking for some things."

"Well go ahead and ask! Ain't like I'm pressin' for time," Borgin chuckled to himself, not caring about the danger Harry might even pose.

"Did Voldemort give you a Horcrux?"

Borgin stopped laughing at this question, realizing that this individual was definitely no Death Eater. He looked curiously at Harry, trying to see if you could recognize him.

"What'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't," Harry answered.

Borgin shifted around so he could look at Harry fully, "You be askin' some dangerous questions, laddie."

"It's a dangerous world we live in, Borgin. Do you or do you not have one of his Horcruxes?" Harry directly asked.

"And even if I did -" Borgin sneered, " -even if I had a Horcrux, how do you suppose you think you'll escape? I can't very well let you stroll through Knockturn and Diagon with it in hand."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"I see," Borgin cleared his throat as he shuffled from behind the counter.

Harry kept his wand trained at him as the old man continued to walk to a safe with multiple visible locks and probably even more hidden jinxes and curses. Borgin fetched a key of chains from within his jacket and jingled them to show Harry he was simply unlocking the safe. After using several keys to unlock several locks, Borgin wrenched open the safe and reached inside to retrieve an item. Turning around, Borgin suddenly tossed Hermione a silver object.

Hermione caught it in surprise, turning it over in her hand as she soon as she was able to regain her bearings. Even Padma was distracted from keeping her lookout as she also looked at the item Borgin tossed.

"That what you lookin' for?" Borgin asked with a sickly smile.

"Ravenclaw's diadem," Hermione said in a hushed, almost reverent tone as she kept turning the object in her hands.

"Is that it?" Harry repeated Borgin's question.

"It would make sense," Hermione murmured, "It's a relic of the founders."

Harry still looked a bit disconcerted that they retrieved the object so easily. At the very least, he expected Borgin to put up a fight or try to alert Death Eaters while they were in store. Harry cocked his head and looked at the aging man curiously.

"Why would you just give it to us?"

Borgin looked at Harry, the age showing through the crinkles on his face and the creases around his eyes, "The Dark Lord said for me to do with it what I will. I don't particularly know what it is and kept in a safe in case the Dark Lord ever wanted it back."

Shrugging, Borgin continued, "He never came back or asked for it. Only wanted for me to put up a replica and told me not touch it."

"Voldemort put a replica of the diadem inside the store?" Hermione paled.

Borgin nodded, "An' some ol' thief stole it. Someone's been on the prowl like you folk."

Harry met Hermione's eyes and immediately made the connection. Only one other person would have been looking for a Horcrux at this point. Neville.

"You still haven't answered my question," Harry turned back to Borgin, needing to know why the shopkeeper would give away one of Voldemort's prized possessions.

Borgin shrugged again, the action seemingly sapping his energy, "He didn't seem overly concerned and I didn't want to particularly die today. I ain't getting in a tussle o'er some knock off."

Harry accepted the answer but with a grain of salt and took no chances. Not wanting to stay at Knockturn for any longer, Harry didn't bother with a Memory charm and simply stunned the old man. Hermione pocketed the diadem in a shrunken bag of hers and nodded again to Harry.

"We have to go. If Neville thinks he took the real Horcrux, then who knows what Voldemort did to the fake."

"Whose to say that the one we have in our hand isn't the fake? Is there any real way to know?"

"No…not unless we're sure. But we'd know once we try to destroy it."

"And we can't do that here just yet," Harry finished, "Let's get out of here and regroup."

Still, Harry couldn't shake that nagging feeling that everything was falling a bit too easy yet again. Hufflepuff's cup in a self-destructing safe was already a reasonable stretch. For Borgin to simply hand over Ravenclaw's diadem reeked of suspicion. But Harry couldn't dwell on such negative thoughts in the current moment.

Resuming their positions, Harry took by their arms and left the store, keeping the door locked in case a Death Eater wandered inside and found the stunned storekeeper. They left Knockturn Alley without much fuss, keeping their heads low in the group of Death Eaters. They were almost back at the brick wall that lead back to the Leaky Cauldron when a voice suddenly rang out.

"What do we have here?"

Harry instantly recognized the voice and it sent literal chills up his spine. He turned around slowly, hoping that the owner of the voice would be different than who he thought it was. Harry was unfortunately mistaken as he spotted the grotesque and mangled face of Bates.

The Death Eater was smiling at Padma and Hermione, but it wasn't his smile that caught Harry's attention. The rumors were true about his leg. Instead of a normal limb, a metal stump replaced it, even adorned with five, sharp metal toes. Harry could see the tattoos that covered his arms from the parts of the skin that was shown by the robes. His face still remained wrinkled and deformed, a present left by Malfoy.

"You have yourself two pieces of fine meat on your hands," Bates addressed Harry distractedly as he continued to look over the two women.

"Yes, I do," Harry knew it would be deadly not to reply. He felt Hermione shiver slightly beside him, knowing that she knew exactly who was talking even if she didn't dare raise her head.

"I must commend you. It's not everyday you pick up such…supple specimens," Bates limped his way closer to Harry, the heavy thud of his steel attachment echoing heavily against the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley.

As Bates came closer, Harry made no movement to turn away from him. He was frantically thinking of a reasonable plan of escape, but his options were dwindling. Revealing himself would obviously be suicide. There were hundreds of Death Eaters and only three of them. Bates considerable magic alone would be difficult enough to deal with much less the combined forces of the watching Death Eaters. No - that couldn't possibly work.

"What's your name, Death Eater?" Bates asked Harry though his eyes were trained firmly on Hermione.

"Nathan Drake," Harry quickly responded, the predetermined name being a joke from Dean and Seamus during the earlier days of the war.

"And where did you find these lovely young ladies, Drake?" Bates approached Hermione and twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger, leaning in and inhaling with a delirious look on his face.

Harry struggled to keep his composure, his hand tightening around Hermione's elbow. Nevertheless, he delivered a measured response, "I found them while coming back from a search. Poor bitches looked a little lost and I'm more than glad to give them a home under me."

Harry hoped that Bates would understand the message that the girls were his. The easiest way out of this situation would be for Bates to simply let Harry walk with the understanding that they were his prisoners. But Bates didn't look all that interested in leaving them alone.

"Oh but it would be selfish of you to take both of these girls. After all, I think I've probably killed more Muggles than you today and I think I deserve a little…prize."

The crowd chuckled as more and more people crowded around Harry, Bates, and the girls. Though Harry kept a calm visage, his body was starting to tense from the increasing probability that Bates wouldn't leave them alone. Indeed, Bates was now circling the trio, the hunger on his face evident as he pivoted around his steel limb.

"I think I've won these prizes in a deserving manner," Harry softly but steadily replied.

Bates stopped moving and finally tore his eyes off Hermione. His ugly, grotesque face twisted into a malevolent look as he looked at the person that dared question the prospects of his night. Towering over Harry, he stepped closer until he was face to face with him, challenging him in front of the gathering crowd.

"You dare deny me my bounty?" Bates hissed.

Harry looked up at him, a resolutely look in his eyes, "It is your bounty to earn."

There was a gasp as the crowd overheard the slight whisper. Bates was fuming, the crusted capillaries along his neck pulsing with an uncontrollable anger. Snarling, Bates turned on the spot and addressed the crowd, his booming voice carrying and attracting even more people.

"So you wish to fight me for the hand of two whores? They must be of some importance to you, Drake," Bates drew out the last name with much sarcasm.

"Not much," Harry continued to act casually, "I've just happen to take a certain…liking to them."

Bates whirled around, furious and fuming as he hobbled his way to Harry, "And what if I take a certain liking to them?" Bates was in Harry's face, his head twisting and turning about, "What if I like this one?!"

Bates suddenly grabbed Hermione's arm and Harry unexpectedly let go, surprised that Bates would take such forceful initiative in the situation. Hermione whimpered as Bates grabbed her roughly and pulled her up against him. He stuffed his head into her hair, inhaling deeply and ruffling his nose through her manes.

"She's frightened. She absolutely reeks of it," Bates said with a maniacal grin.

Harry's heart suddenly thrummed even harder in his chest, his array of decisions slowly dwindling down as the situation took a turn for the worse. Padma was now pressed tightly against him, not bothering to hide her fear as the crowd pressed the radius of the circle tighter and tighter, anticipating the confrontation at hand.

"What do you say, Drake? I have this one and you can take the other," Bates grinned as he groped Hermione in front of him.

Hermione looked pleadingly at Harry and kept fidgeting in Bates' arms. At first, Harry thought she was simply trying to move farther away from the man's grip, but on second glance, Harry could see that she was trying to maneuver the bag that contained Ravenclaw's diadem. As she kept twisting about, Harry managed to see that she was trying to loosen the bag from her grip. Judging from the way she was discretely trying to hide it from Bates' view, Harry realized she was simply trying to find a way to give him the bag before Bates escaped with her. This plan would simply not do for Harry. There was no way he was sacrificing Hermione just to escape with the Horcrux.

"Harry," Padma hissed quietly enough underneath the murmur of the crowd so only he could hear, "Trade. Hook and leader."

"No," Harry whispered back a bit too loudly, immediately shooting down her idea to replace herself with Hermione.

"So you let the women do the talking as well!" Bates bellowed, much to the amusement of the crowd, "I think I'll just take this one from you, Drake."

As he started to pull Hermione away with him, Harry called out to Bates, desperate to prevent this abomination, "On one condition."

The crowd chuckled its approval at Harry's petulance. Bates had a smile on his face but didn't look amused. It was more akin to a parent smiling in front of his peers before he punished the child with a quick snap of leather. Still holding Hermione tightly, Bates nodded for Harry to go on.

"You duel me for her."

Bates cocked his head, obviously not suspecting the sudden proposal. He stroked his mangled chin, his face suddenly dropping from its usual malevolence. One red eye and one clear eye turned to Harry as Bates fixed all of his attention on the other supposed Death Eater.

"Unusual for a Death Eater to stake such a claim on a prisoner. You must have something special for her. Sampled the goods, have we?" Bates pressed his mouth close to Hermione's neck.

"In a manner of speaking," Harry replied with a certain amount of bile in his throat.

Bates scoffed, "I figured."

He tossed Hermione to the side and stepped forward. The crowd took a matching step back, anticipating a great display of wizardry. Harry slightly pushed Padma back but squeezed the inside of her wrist as a silent signal.

"Such a shame to kill a fellow Death Eater for just a slave," Bates unapologetically lamented, "But she must be worth the fight."

"More than you know," Harry whispered to himself as he removed the wand from the holster.

"I suppose I don't need to tell you I will kill you when you likely fail," Bates egged him on, his voice now serious and devoid of any amusement that was derived from the playful negotiation of Hermione.

"I'll be the decider of that," Harry replied, drawing spare chuckles from the mob.

"Very well then."

There was a split moment right before Bates raised his wand that caused Harry to stop and think of the predicament he had just brought upon the whole unit. But that was all Harry was allowed as he raised his own wand and started the process of what he hoped to be their escape.