[A/N: I know! I know! It's been absolutely forever since I've updated and I'm oh-so-sorry. I don't really have any excuses other than I was too lazy to write anything, and that I didn't know what to write. I actually had more than this written up a long time ago, but it was utter crap so I deleted it and started again. So this is what you get now. I'm sure I could have written more, but I figured I better get at least one chapter out before I go on vacation so that you know I'm not dead, and yes, I will be writing more chapters.
So, here's your long overdue chapter seventeen. Enjoy.
THANK YOU COSTY FOR BETA-ING!!! <33333 You're the best!!11!1one!11!!!one!1
Disclaimer: If you think I own anything related to Harry Potter, I recommend you visit a psychiatrist.]
Wrapping the pink feather boa around her neck loosely, Sara seated herself at the small table in front of the fireplace, motioning for Haven to pick up his teacup. "Make sure you hold it like this," she told him, picking up her own, pinky extended sophisticatedly.
Haven wrinkled his nose and picked up the teacup as told. "Why do I have to do this again?" he asked, wiggling his pinky.
"Because," Sara said, looking at him exaggeratedly. "We're having a tea party, and at tea parties, you're supposed to drink your tea like this."
"I don't want to have a tea party," whined Haven. "It's girly."
"Is not," argued Sara. Haven set his cup down. "Fine then," she said, "I didn't want to have a tea party with you anyways. Boys just ruin the fun."
"Fine," said Haven, getting up and stomping over to the sofa. He sat on it and crossed his arms, staring at the wall disinterestedly. Sara looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, fluffing her boa, then took a sip of her tea, pinky up.
Narcissa walked into the room and took immediate notice of their stony expressions. "Are you two having fun?" she asked gently, eyes darting between the two.
"No," they answered simultaneously, shooting glares at each other.
Narcissa disappeared and came back a few moments later, carrying a silver tray. "I know what will make this tea party a little better."
"It's already great." Sara stuck her nose up in the air, but couldn't help peeking at what was on the tray.
Narcissa nodded. "It's wonderful, but wouldn't you like some cookies?" She set the tray down on the table. Haven eyed the chocolate chip cookies from his perch on the sofa, his little hands starting to twitch anxiously.
"I want a cookie," he said.
"Well, then," said Narcissa, very matter-of-factly. "You'll just have to join Sara's tea party, won't you?"
Haven made a face. "I guess so." He let himself slide off of the sofa slowly, making sure both Narcissa and Sara knew he wasn't too happy about attending the tea party, even if he got cookies, and then stomped his way to the little table, dropping himself carelessly back into his chair.
Amused, Narcissa smiled.
Sara, on the other hand, seemed to want to make sure that Haven felt sorry for abandoning her tea party and that he knew that any cookie he got now was going to come with a price. "You know," she said slowly, slyly. "I have another feathery thing." She pointed to her boa.
Haven stared at her.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. "It's blue," she offered, beginning to dig through the pile of stuffed animals behind her. She pulled it out and held it out over the table for Haven, shaking it in front of him. What she hadn't told him was that this one had nice little silver threads woven in it, coated with very sparkly glitter. One of the feathers detached itself from the rest and floated up into the air, and landed in Haven's hair.
"This isn't fair," he muttered sullenly, reaching out to grab the boa - and a cookie.
***
Fred and George seemed to be communicating something less than appropriate between themselves, earning glares from Ginny every few minutes. Draco watched them with something between amusement and exasperation, wondering why he had the bad luck to be stuck with three Weasleys.
Which he hadn't realized he said out loud until he noticed the slightly hurt look on Ginny's face. "I hope you don't think we're really that bad," she said softly.
Apparently Fred and George had heard the exchange in between their own covert conversation, and walked closer to Ginny and Draco, bringing their exchange to an end.
Draco looked down at Ginny. "I didn't mean it," he said. Ginny nodded slowly but didn't look as if she believed him. Suppressing the urge to sigh, Draco said nothing else, continuing to lead the group down the stone hallways in awkward silence. Not that much could be done about that, talking wasn't really something they should have been doing anyways.
Putting a hand in her robe pocket, Ginny let her fingers slip around the cool wood of her new wand, reminding herself that now wasn't the time to get into some verbal spar with Draco. She also took care to remind herself of what kind of person Draco was, and despite the fact that she loved him, he hadn't what you'd call a warm personality.
The light in the corridors slowly became brighter, and the corridor itself smelled less of mold and mildew. Tall torches lined the wall, the flames flickering wildly as they walked by, licking at the stones of the wall from the faint breeze they left trailing behind them.
Draco stopped them at a corner. They stood there for a moment, Fred and George exchanging looks. Ginny just watched Draco silently, her eyes roving over his face uneasily. His face didn't say betray anything. He continued to stand there. The twins shot her a look and gestured impatiently around the corner. She gave them a withering glance as Draco leaned around the corner before stepping out of sight.They followed him.
Unexpectedly, Ginny's boot caught on an uneven stone and sent her flying to the floor. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, tasting the coppery tang of blood on her tongue, and a throb of pain in her jaw. Fred and George grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up.
"Blimey, Gin, are you okay?" Fred whispered concernedly, brushing off her robes needlessly. He waved off George, who was hovering over them, his face turning gray as he caught sight of the tiny droplet of blood on Ginny's lip.
"Quiet," Draco said firmly, pushing past the twins to Ginny. She leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths. He took her face gently in his hands, mindful of her jaw, which was now sending pulses of pain through her skull. Draco swept his thumb across her lower lip tenderly causing her to wince slightly.
"Careful," she breathed.
His fingers skimmed along her jaw lightly, sending a shiver down her spine. Bringing his wand up to her face, he murmured a quiet spell and the pain started to subside, still echoing through her head, but barely.
She smiled appreciatively at him. "That's better."
George gave Draco a sharp tap on the shoulder. "Let's keep moving," he said, following Fred, who'd already started down the length of the hall. Draco turned back to Ginny and studied her face for a moment, then lowered his lips to hers, quickly, then moved them to her jaw, making the same spot that had throbbed with pain a moment before, tingle with pleasure. She didn't know what made him even begin to think this might have been a good time for anything of the like, but she wasn't going to argue. Besides, they were only short kisses.
He took her hand in his, and rubbed his thumb along her knuckles as they caught up with Fred and George, who were pausing at the end of the hall, obviously listening to something very interesting.
***
Neville watched Harry, Hermione, and Ron huddled together a few feet away from him with growing impatience. They were doing it again. They were always doing it. It was the three of them and no one else. They had gathered into their little triumvirate and they weren't planning on letting anyone else in any time soon. Their heads were all bowed down together in a circle and they were speaking in hushed tones.
Tapping his foot, Neville hoped the sound would remind them that they were missing part of their team. Hoping maybe, just maybe, to remind them Hogwarts was over, and despite the unity of the three of them, they alone were not going to be able to bring down Voldemort.
But of course, as always, he kept these thoughts to himself and settled for observing their camaraderie from afar.
"Would you shut up!" he heard Hermione hiss, and soon thereafter the sound of her hand on Ron's face.
"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, rubbing a hand on his cheek. "You're the one who asked."
Hermione's eyes were alight and her cheeks flushed red. "This is not the time to be a prat, Ron." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Neville, standing away from them. If possible, she flushed a deeper shade of crimson. Harry followed her gaze and guilt flashed in his darkened green eyes. Neville wondered if it was okay that the looks on their faces made him feel happier. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione gushed, reaching over to grab Neville's arm and pull him in the group. Her hand was cold and clammy on his arm, and he noted the beads of sweat on her brow.
Before he could ask what it was they'd been discussing, Harry spoke up. "We've been down this hall before," he told Neville. Neville nodded. He knew this. Harry frowned, but continued, "We made the mistake of turning right both times." Neville nodded again. Harry raised his eyebrows. "Hermione says we shouldn't go left and that we should try another turn we might have missed further down."
Neville looked at Hermione, who looked as if she was shaking. For the first time, Neville noticed the purple and yellow tones that dominated her skin. She was looking at him worriedly, having taken her hand off his arm. She was now clenching them in front of her tightly. Her eyes begged him to agree with her.
"What could it hurt to try her way one more time? We probably did miss a turn somewhere," said Neville. Hermione beamed at him.
Harry heaved a frustrated sigh and raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. "We'd lose time, Neville, and we haven't got much of it as it is. Besides, it's not as if I'd place too much trust in Hermione's instincts, if you'll remember, Divination was never her strongest subject."
Hermione's lips thinned as she turned to look at Harry, fighting to keep her eyes cold and infuriated, but it wasn't easy considering tears were welling and beginning to spill onto her cheeks. "Don't be cruel, Harry," she said hoarsely. She looked away from him to Ron, whose ears were bright red and who was staring down at the floor.
"Harry," Neville said slowly, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione sniffed and stiffened, shaking her head and wiping her tears away violently. She tightened her jaw and looked back to Harry, determination set on her face.
Before Neville could say anything else, she marched up to Harry, until she was standing with her nose practically to his. "Now you listen to me, Harry Potter," she said firmly. "You have to remember that you aren't the only one fighting You-Know…" she took a deep breath. "Voldemort. Your friends are here. You don't have to fight him alone." The tears were starting to well up in her eyes again, and she couldn't hold them back. But her voice remained steady as she stared up at Harry. "We're all here, Harry. Even Malfoy is here," she said with a weak laugh. "He's got his own group and I'm sure they can hold off what they need to until we get there, which isn't going to be much longer. I really think we should try again. I'm absolutely positive I saw a place we could have turned."
Harry didn't say anything.
"Don't you trust me, Harry?"
Harry closed his eyes. "Yes, Hermione. I trust you." He opened them and looked at Ron and Neville. "Okay, let's go back. Hermione, you lead the way."
Hermione smiled at him. "Thank you." Harry smiled back, and Hermione motioned for the men to follow her and started down the corridor confidently.
***
Ginny stopped short, causing the men behind her to stumble. "Do you hear that?" She furrowed her eyebrows into a frown, leaning one way, as if it would help her to pick up sound.
"Hear what?" asked George, looking to Fred, who looked just as confused as him.
"SHHHH!" Ginny hissed, slicing her hands at him. She stilled when she was certain they were quiet and listened again. The dim sound of muffled voices crept down the corridor in their direction.
"We're close now," said Draco. "We can make it before they catch up with us."
"Wait a minute," said Ginny, glancing at Draco quickly. She listened yet again, the corner of her mouth turning up. "That's Ron."
"What?" said Fred. "I don't know what you're talking about. I think I'd recognize my own brother's voice if I heard it."
George nodded his agreement. "I'd know Ron's voice anywhere."
"Well obviously you don't. Now would you two idiots shut up?" she said, beginning to stride down the corridor. Draco reached out to grab her arm, but only caught part of her sleeve, which she yanked out of his hand. Ginny shot him a glare and continued down the hallway. Before she reached the end, Hermione rounded the corner, and upon sighting Ginny, her eyes lit up.
"Ginny!"
"Bloody hell," muttered Draco. "We don't have time for this. And no one should be talking!"
Neville, Harry, and Ron followed closely behind Hermione, and Draco cut off anything they were going to say by slashing his hand in the air. "You all need to be quiet," he whispered. "No more talking at all. This next corridor over is close to Voldemort's lair, and there's bound to be guards on duty."
***
"How much longer d'you think we've got left on this damned shift?" a Death Eaters asked his companion.
"I dunno," the other said, glancing at his gaudy watch. "I hope it's not too much longer though. If it is, then there won't be much of a party left by the time we're able to get down there."
"Don't I know it," sighed the first Death Eater. "I was hoping to talk to Pansy, too. I bet that git Marley's already gotten to her."
"Eh, what'd you want with a woman like her?"
He chuckled. "I've been told she's a quick lay, and I've been needing one. What with this bloody war still going on."
They guffawed together, not noticing the spells shot their way from the end of the corridor. Caught in mid-laugh, they both pitched forward to the floor. There was a sickly crunch of bone against stone as their faces hit the ground. Draco rounded the corner with the others following closely behind him, and they came to stop in front of the massive, dark oak doors that led into Voldemort's innermost lair.
"Does anyone feel like this might have been a bit too easy?" Ginny asked hesitantly, feeling snakes of fear slithering into her stomach.
"Just a bit," said Draco, lips thinning.
Harry nodded. "The worst is yet to come though. We've yet to do any fighting."
Draco tapped his wand on the doorknobs and murmured spells, while the others waited with bated breath. He stopped and turned the knob and the door creaked open slowly. Hermione winced at the sound, and clenched her wand in her hand tightly, feeling Ron's hand touch to her back lightly. She looked at him and smiled weakly. He gulped.
Draco took a step forward into the room and found it utterly empty. Harry came in behind him and stared around the room, searching the dark corners and shadows that seemed to dance at them by the movement cast from the fire crackling ominously in the hearth. There were two high-backed leather chairs sitting in front of the fireplace, both empty. There were meeting tables scattered with books and parchment, quills, and ink bottles. There were shelves upon shelves of books lined up against the walls, each with titles as horrifying as the next.
Hermione wandered into the room behind them, taking a step towards a bookshelf. Harry caught her arm as she reached towards a book. She jerked it back and eyed the shelves, itching to read the numerous dusty tomes. The twins came in and directed their wands towards the shadows muttering spells and illuminating them, showing them to be bare. Leaving Neville and Ron to bring up the rear, stepping into the room cautiously, shivering as the cold air hit them. The fire did little to warm the room.
Ginny was standing near a meeting table, leaning over and peering at the scattered parchments. "I can't believe this," she said softly.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, coming to stand next to her. Hermione gasped as she saw what was on the parchments, her eyes darted wildly to each. "I can see he's getting inspiration from another evil dictator."
"What?" Harry said. "What are you talking about?"
"These are plans," Hermione said breathlessly. "Plans for…death camps for Muggle borns and half-bloods."
Draco lifted his eyebrows. "You are forgetting that he grew up in the forties."
"I know he did, but…" said Hermione, eyes wide. "He even has plans for…detoxifying magical lands that Muggles live on. He wants to kill off millions of Muggles to build a wizarding empire."
"This comes as a surprise to you?" Draco asked coldly. "Are you really so naive, Granger?"
"Of course not," she said slowly, looking away from the table.
Chilly air flooded the room, and the light from the fireplace winked out. The oak doors slammed shut behind them, and in the darkness two, red, snake-like eyes glowed in the darkness. "Well, well, well," the hoarse voice rasped. "What do we have here? Harry Potter and his Dream Team? And Malfoy? What a surprise."
[A/N: Just one last note. I know I have yet to update my other stories, but, I'm planning on it. In fact, I've already started on them. Rest assured there will be another chapter up on each of them (probably more!) by the end of the summer. ;) ]