Summary: Someone important might die in this chapter. And someone else is getting a haircut. That's all I'm saying.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No
money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
You already know everything is JK's. This chapter also has a reference to 'The Little Prince' by Saint-X, but you're
sure to recognise that one. Oh, And there's also a very obvious reference to 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.

Author's Note & Dedications:
Warning: If you think I left you with a bad cliffhanger the last time, think again. This time is much, much worse. And
this time I don't have the next chapter ready, so it might take some time for it to be resolved. You have been warned.

Krum Do I Love?

by yael
 
 

Chapter 7
Indecision
 

Very close to him was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, as still as the stone on which she fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A medium-sized grey wolf stood in front of a stone gargoyle and looked impatiently out the window. After what
seemed like a very long wait, the last rays of the lunar satellite disappeared beyond the edge of the earth. The wolf's
face became shorter. His facial and body hair began thinning, and was finally mostly gone. Where the wolf had stood,
now sat a man in a shabby travelling cloak, cramping with what appeared to be agonizing pain.

Remus took a deep breath and stood up. He mumbled the password to the gargoyle, and was forced to grin, despite
the need to be sick. Dumbledore had a unique taste. Cactus Toffee indeed.

Dumbledore was waiting for him by his desk. He wore a very worried expression, which deepened as Remus
entered the round office. All the past headmasters and headmistresses fixed Remus with stern looks, most of the men
were absently playing with their beards, and more disturbingly, so were some of the women.

"I was expecting you," Dumbledore said quietly. "Although I hoped you would be someone else."

"Sirius?"

Dumbledore nodded his head very slightly, but it was enough to make the answer very clear. Yes, he had been hoping
to see Sirius.

"What was their mission?"

"Have you seen yesterday's paper?" Dumbledore unexpectedly changed the subject.

"What's that got to do with where they are?"

"So I take it that you haven't." Dumbledore produced a copy of the Daily Prophet and spread it in front of Remus,
front page up. Remus looked at him incredulously, and then lowered his eyes to the paper. The letters of the headline
glowered at him: "IS THE BOY WHO LIVED A DEATH EATER?" He raised his eyes again, and gaped at
Dumbledore. When he saw no motion to explain from the headmaster's side, he turned to read the entire article. His
mouth was open even wider when he finished.

Remus wanted to ask what this was about, but he was rendered speechless. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his
hands, suddenly feeling the effect of the sleepless night.

"Is he really -" he managed to stammer.<

"Oh no," Dumbledore offered him a comforting smile. "But this article about Harry managed to confuse a lot of
people, including the boy himself." Dumbledore examined Remus, watching his words wipe the troubled expression
off his face. "Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus were supposed to release Ms. Skeeter from Voldemort's clutches,
and to prevent the publication of this article." The smile Dumbledore offered Remus was long gone. "I wish they had
succeeded."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is she dead?"

"I don't know. She doesn't look too good."

Ron approached Hermione, while both Draco and Harry struggled to their feet. They both gave up at about the same
time, and just rolled along the flagstones until they had reached her.

Ron was the first to release a sigh of relief. "She's breathing," he announced. "enervate!" The expression on his face
indicated that he might burst into a spontaneous little dance.

Harry allowed his head to drop beside Hermione's motionless figure. Draco placed his hand on the stone floor, and
gently rested his head on it. A few minutes had passed before a slight movement made both boys sit bolt upright and
then crouch over Hermione. There was a short struggle, and when it ended, Ron found himself sitting by Hermione's
head, completely hidden from her view.

The first thing Hermione saw when she opened her eyes was Harry's face. She screamed and flinched away from him.
Someone caught her shrinking body with strong but gentle hands. She turned, and saw Draco's face. Her heart gave a
little leap, and she screamed.

Both boys were turned aback by her reaction, leaving her whole clear for Ron. Ron didn't waste one second. He
circled her and found her side. An instant later, she was held in his arms, and he was gently rocking her.

"Ron," was the first word Hermione said.

"I'm here," said Ron. He felt that his chest was about to blast with the emotions it held for her.

"Can you not swing?"

Ron's face fell. He wanted to make things perfect for her, and now he blew it. He stopped moving at once, the sharp
change sending a jolt through Hermione's exhausted body. Hermione gritted her teeth, but a tiny, agonised breath
escaped her lips.

Draco came round quickly. "Let her go, Weasley," he said in a harsh tone. "Can't you see you're hurting her?"

The very fact that Malfoy was the one talking made Ron want to protest. He looked at Hermione, seeking approval,
but her tortured eyes told him differently.

"Here, I'll help you lift her back to bed," volunteered Harry. As Ron held Hermione's upper-body, Harry grabbed
her legs, and tried to heave them off the floor, but Hermione kicked him with a strength he hadn't suspected she
possessed.

"Ouch." Harry shook his reddening hand. "What did you do that for?"

"Don't touch me," hissed Hermione. It was unbelievable she could produce such a menacing tone with such a feeble
voice. "Don't even get near me. What happened? What did you use against me anyway?"

"I didn't use anything," said Harry with feeling, as he watched Draco shake his palm after being kicked as well. "I just
stood there like a convict on the death row, waiting for you to - to -" Harry didn't want to sound over-dramatic and
say 'kill me', but that exactly what he was doing.

"All I did was try to stun you. You must have deflected the curse somehow."

"How could I?" shouted Harry, resenting the implication. "I didn't have my wand. It was on the floor, you saw it!"

"The spell did bounce off you," contributed Ron to Harry's great chagrin. "You deflected it just like you deflected
Malfoy's spell." He picked up Hermione without the help of the others, and placed her on the bed. Then, he covered
her with a thick duvet and fastened the edges of the blanket around her. Hermione cuddled in the bed, looking warm
and quite comfortable.

"I had my wand with Malfoy. I meant to set the spell back at him. I didn't do it with Hermione. I'll take Veritaserum
on that."

"Yeah, we've seen what the Veritaserum is worth in your case," sneered Draco. "It's just like the Imperius Curse.
Has no effect on you."

Hermione sat bolt upright in the bed.

"Shhh," Ron tried to calm her. He tried to push her gently back into a resting position, but she objected.

"No," she said. "Draco, you've just given me an idea of what's going on." She turned her face to Harry. This was the
first time he saw softness in the way she looked at him since the incident with the Truth Potion. His heart trembled
with joy. "Harry, do you remember the fake wand?"

"Yes," said Harry. "But I don't have it either. And I don't think I could use it on you anyway."

"Actually, you could," said Hermione. Before Harry could object, she added: "But I don't think you would have." This
statement won her three very confused stares.

"Harry, I think you have a very high MQ," she said in a victorious tone of someone who had just conquered the
world's most complicated riddle.

"Oh," said Ron, his eyes lit up with understanding.

"Oh," muttered Draco with a disgruntled tone.

"A what?" asked Harry, who felt pressure starting to form in his temples.

"MQ - Magical Quotient," Hermione said like she was reading out of a book. "It measures how strong a wizard or a
witch you potentially are."

"Oh," said Harry, massaging his temples. That's just what he needed now. Another thing to single him out from the
rest of the wizarding community. The look on Malfoy's face confirmed his suspicion. This was almost as bad as the
time he'd learned he was a parselmouth. And that time was Malfoy's fault as well. He felt his rage surging. "What
exactly does that mean?" he asked, looking back at Hermione.

"Everyone has an MQ," explained Hermione, sounding more and more like Professor Binns. "Any score above
fifteen is considered magical. To be able to use a wand to do magic, you need a score of over forty-five. You get
a letter from Hogwarts if you have forty-five or above."

"Your friend Neville probably has forty-five," Draco inserted viciously.

Hermione glared at him, and went on. "Up to seventy, it is considered a mild magical ability. Seventy to ninety is
moderate magical ability. Ninety to one hundred and ten is what most wizards and witches have. Anyone who scores
above that is considered gifted to some level."

"Is that all?" asked Harry. The pressure in his head was beginning to ebb down.

"Not exactly," said Ron, who had caught up with Hermione's train of thought. "If your score is above one hundred
and forty, you are likely to be able to do some basic magic without a wand."

"Is that considered Dark Art?" Harry's face was a mask of concern.

"Not really." Draco calmed him down. "But it is said that You-Know-Who has an MQ of one-hundred and sixty
five." Apparently, alleviating Harry's fears was not what Draco had in mind.

"Wow," breathed Harry. Facing Voldemort seemed more frightening than ever before.

"Well, so does Dumbledore." Hermione tried to undo Draco's damage.

Harry sat on the edge of her bed. Hermione drew her legs to her chest, but said nothing. "That's too much
information for me," he said finally. He could see the pre-dawn light making the forest clearing outside the window
glow. "I don't think any of us is getting back to sleep. Maybe we should get a move on." He sprang off the bed,
and then realized something. "Malfoy, where are we going, anyway?"

"I'll have to check that," Draco said cryptically and immediately left the room. Ron and Harry followed suit, and
Hermione tagged along with them.

Draco led the way into the main communications chamber. He went to the pile of jars, and scanned them critically.

"What are you looking for?" asked Ron, looking at the identical jars with him.

"Don't disturb me, Weasley," Draco hushed him rudely. After a while, he pulled a jar out of the pile. Magically, the
pile did not collapse. "This one," he said. "The one that says 'locator floo'."

"That one doesn't say anything," Ron scowled. "None of them do."

"You can't see it," mocked Draco, "but I bet your Death Eater friend can."

"Don't call me that," Harry shouted. His anger was not because of Draco's snide remark, but mainly due to the fact
that he could, in fact, see some sort of markings on the jars. It wasn't tangible writing, but it didn't feel like a good
sign at all.

Ignoring Harry's complaint, Draco took the jar with him and started walking very slowly along one of the
flame-covered walls.

"Are you looking for the one that says 'Goyle'?" Hermione couldn't repress her curiosity.

"Don't be silly." Draco's tone was much softer when he spoke to her. "There are no names on the flames. Only
codes." He paused and kneeled in front of one of the flames, located on the second shelf from the floor. "Luckily,
I happen to know Goyle's code." He took a pinch of powder out of the jar and before any of the terror-stricken
others present could stop him, he tossed it into the flame.

The green flame flared bright silver for a second, and then, puffing out a little foul smelling cloud, shifted its haze, and
featured a large bedroom. It was furnished luxuriously, with antique chests, a crystal chandelier, a huge four-poster
bed and small Persian rugs at the foot of the bed. A man was sleeping alone in the bed, his large stomach rising and
sinking rhythmically.

"Is that the man who attacked you?" Hermione asked, looking eagerly at Harry.

Harry observed the man on the bed intently. His face was mostly hidden in his pillow. "Could be," he said without
much conviction. "I can't really tell." The man moaned in his sleep, and turned to the other side, like something was
disturbing him. Harry gasped and retreated from the flame. "It's him," he said weakly.

"Good," said Draco. He enjoyed seeing Harry so frightened and enjoyed even more the fact that Hermione had seen
him like this as well. He tossed some more powder into the image, and it started zooming out rapidly, giving the
watchers a feeling they were flying backwards on a speeding broom.

It showed the entire bedroom, then it passed through a wall. For a moment, the wall filled the entire image, but it
quickly turned into a wide hall with hanging torches and some pictures they had no time to recognize, because the
view had already passed through the opposite wall. It kept moving, slowing down a bit, until it finally stopped,
featuring a large manor with wide fields and a single yellowing stone mansion in the middle.

"I know where that is," whispered Draco. "And it's not good."

"Why not?" Ron asked the question although he didn't really care to hear the answer.

"He Who Must Not Be Named uses that house often."

"Well, we'll just have to wait for him to be out," said Harry, his chin set in obstinacy.

"I guess so." Draco's voice still sounded a bit dejected, but his chin was moved to match Harry's. "It's very far away,
though. We're going to have to use our brooms to get there."

"Brooms?" asked Ron and Hermione together. The shared the same alarmed tone.

"You did bring brooms, didn't you?" Harry tried, although he already knew the answer. Ron and Hermione said
nothing.

"Unbelievable," muttered Draco. He should have guessed that Weasley wouldn't bring a broom. He probably
couldn't afford one anyway, but Hermione was a smart witch, she should have thought of bringing one with her. Then
he thought about it. Hermione didn't much care for broom flying. "All right, here's what we're going to do," he offered
eventually. "Each broom can easily carry two people. It won't be much good for racing, but it will have to do."

"Fine," agreed Hermione reluctantly. She wasn't enthusiastic about riding a broom, but if that what it would take to
help Harry, then she'd do it. "Meet you outside in ten minutes." She went back to her room to pack her things, and
saw the others do the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny stood outside the castle, watching the Giant Squid do his morning exercise. It was freezing at this time of
dawn. She stomped her feet in the snow, trying to get herself to warm up a bit.

"Oh, I thought you'd wait for me inside." He quickly wrapped her in his thick travelling cloak.

Ginny cuddled in the cloak, eagerly accepting the embrace that came with it. "Lee, I couldn't wait," she said
sheepishly.

They kissed and headed for the castle, sharing Lee's cloak. Their progress was considerably slow, as they stopped
from time to time, either to kiss, or to recover from one of them stepping on the other one's foot. The latter didn't really
count, as they used the recesses to do the former, easily dismissing the pain with their attention on the kiss.

By the time they reached the steps to the castle door, it was already time for breakfast. Ginny had decided to skip the
meal, planning on grabbing some toast on the way to History of Magic. That would win her a few more minutes with
Lee.

An owl swooped by their heads, and landed at their feet in a sorry heap of parchment and feathers.

"Errol?" asked Ginny, hesitantly. It was unlikely that her parents would send that retired owl. Unless - unless
something was terribly wrong. She picked the owl up gently, and brushed the snow away, along with some of his
feathers. It was shivering from the cold. Ginny held him close to her, to give him some of her warmth, and ascended
the stairs very quickly. It was Errol, all right.

"Lee, can you read the letter for me?" she asked, as Lee had already picked the parchment and went after her. Both
her hands were busy cuddling poor Errol.

"Sure," said Lee, and started reading: "Dear Ginny, We're sending Errol because we're-" Lee had stopped his loud
read-out, and scanned the rest of the letter mutely.

"What is it?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"It's er-" Lee stammered. "Maybe I should hold Errol." He reached for the trembling bird, and gave her the letter
instead. Ginny was getting uneasy by all the signs, including Lee's terribly white face. She gave him the owl, and
started reading.

Dear Ginny

We're sending Errol because we're very worried about Ron, and we don't want to wait for another owl to
arrive. We sent him a letter yesterday, asking him to contact us, and he hasn't returned our owl.

We are concerned for his safety, especially because of the new circumstances that have arisen, and his
dormitory arrangements.

Please find him, and let us know he's all right.

"My mum lets herself be influenced by what that Skeeter woman is writing." Ginny shook her head with disapproval.
"Let's go to the Great Hall and feed Errol." She took the owl back in her hands. "We might as well get some
breakfast, too."

Lee nodded in agreement. She knew her parents better than him, although he had to admit that the letter was, at the
least, disturbing.

Ginny busied herself feeding Errol, while Lee looked around the Gryffindor table, his concern growing steadily with
each moment. "Ginny?" he tried eventually. Ginny took her eyes off the stuffed owl and gave him her attention.
"Shouldn't Ron be here by now?"

The possibility that something might have actually happened to Ron sank on Ginny like a surprise Potions Quiz.
She paled, and imitated Lee's search. "Harry isn't here either," she said. "Come to think of it, I can't see Hermione
anywhere -" She racked her brain to remember the last time she has seen her. It was yesterday at lunch. She
walked hastily to Dean, who seemed to be enjoying his breakfast more than normal.

"Dean, have you seen Ron or Harry?" she asked.

"No," Dean answered. "They weren't there this morning when I woke up, and they went to bed after I was already
asleep, too." He smiled impishly. "I guess they're up to something again."

Dean's unconcern was not infectious. Ginny was by now extremely anxious. "Lee, they might be in horrible danger.
We must find them." She tugged on his sleeve.

"Not we, Ginny." Lee pushed her tenderly. "You're not even a fully-grown witch. You stay right here, and I'll go
search for them. I'm sure they're just stuck somewhere with some trick that backfired." He made an effort to look
like he knew what he was talking about.

"There's no way I'm letting you go alone."

"Well, my first stop would be in Dumbledore's office. Do you really want to tell him that you're going to miss
classes? And on your OWL's year? You might get yourself expelled." he looked at her unconvinced expression. It
was time to be a bit cruel for her own safety. "Ginny," he said softly, "You'll only get in my way."

Ginny was a bit offended at first, but then realized what he was doing. "I see right through your trick, Lee." Still,
there was a point in what he said. He was, although young, a fully trained wizard, while she was - not. "All right,"
she eventually acceded. She sank back into her chair, and started patting Errol in long, distracted strokes. "Just be
careful. Please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry mounted his broom, his pack on his back. He saw Draco do the same. "Come on, Hermione," he called her
as she came out of the house, carrying her pack and slightly limping.

"Uh ah." Draco shook his head furiously. "I'm not riding with Weasley. Forget about it."

"Well, you have to," said Hermione. She wasn't very keen on riding with Harry after yesterday's events, but, "There
is no way I'm riding with you," she announced to Draco.

"What? After what we've been through together, you're still afraid I'm going to throw you off the broom?"

"No. I'm actually more afraid I'll want to jump off," retorted Hermione.

Draco felt the air leave him like he'd been hit in the stomach. "You don't have much choice," he said, his face gaining
its familiar ice-cold expression. "Weasley and I are not about to ride on the same broom."

"Fine," said Hermione. "Then you'll ride with Harry."

"What?" both boys were shuddered. They lapsed into ardent protests, both knowing that it was a lost cause. Finally,
their boisterous babble abated, and they just looked at each other with disgust.

"Give them your broom," commanded Draco. Harry opened his mouth to retort, but smartly decided against it. He
just went to Ron, and deposited his Firebolt in his hands. He watched with overflowing envy as Hermione mounted
the broom behind Ron, holding on firmly to his waist. She leaned her head against his back, closed her eyes, and
waited. Her expression very much resembled that of a lamb knowing it was about to become shish-kebab.

"Don't even dream about holding me that way," Draco drawled at Harry.

"I wouldn't worry," Harry spat back.

Since this was Draco's broom, it was obvious that he would take the lead. It was also more sensible, as he was the
only one who knew which way they were headed. As they climbed above the forest trees, Harry made his best effort
to hold only to the broom, but his hand slid from time to time, sending waves of chill through his chest and spine with
each time he touched Draco. He could sense Draco's back stiffing with each such slip.

Harry made an effort not to look back at Ron and Hermione. The pinch he felt in his chest by merely thinking about
them was too painful. His resolution not to look back held on no more than a few minutes. He cast his eyes over his
shoulder, searching for the other pair on a broom.

"Malfoy, stop," he shouted over the whistle of the wind. "Ron and Hermione aren't behind us."

Draco turned the broom around so abruptly, that Harry slid fully forward, smacking into Draco's back. For a second,
they were both wrapped in an isolating sphere, identical to the one that surrounded them when Draco first touched
Harry's Dark Mark with his own. This made Draco lose control over the broom. Luckily the sphere was shattered
before they hit the ground. They jumped off the broom the instant it was close enough to the ground, not saying a
word to each other. One pair of warm emerald green eyes and one pair of icy steel grey eyes scanned the skies
silently. After what seemed like eternity, the other broom appeared in the horizon. It took another long minute before
it landed by their side.

Harry bit his lower lip when he saw that Hermione was still holding on to Ron, long after their legs had touched the
ground. She was ashen-faced and looked like she was about to be sick.

"Where were you gone to?" Ron asked angrily, not rising as to not disturb Hermione.

"We didn't realise we'd lost you," Harry said genuinely. "I'm sorry."

"We were going as fast as this Firebolt could take us. This was the fastest I've ever flown." Ron was speaking
enthusiastically now. "But still, we couldn't catch up with you."

"This is the same model," said Draco. "So I guess the difference is in the maintenance. I take good care of my
broom."

"I take good care of my broom too," raged Harry. "It is probably in better condition than yours. Ron is probably just
not used to its little antics."

"Well, my broom doesn't have any little antics," mocked Draco.

"All right then, give them your broom."

Draco hesitated for a second, and then surrendered his broom to Ron. After all, he set himself up for this. Ron took
Draco's broom, and gently slid it beside Harry's. Once it was settled in place, he pulled Harry's broom out. Doing
this, he was able to switch the brooms without swaying Hermione too badly.

"Can we go?" asked Draco impatiently. He feared that what they saw in the communications centre would no longer
be relevant if they took too much time to get there. "We still have a long way to go."

Hermione nodded feebly, closing her eyes as if yielding in front of a horrible destiny.

Both brooms left the ground at once. Both cut through the crisp morning air together, but one of them rose above the
treetops before the other. Harry recognised the gap between the brooms much quicker this time, and impelled Draco
to stop.

The two boys hovered just over the top branches of the trees. Harry was almost compelled to touch them, when the
other two stopped beside them.

"What's going on?" asked Draco. "You can't blame it on the broom this time. This is a top brand broom you've got
there." He gestured with his head towards his own broom on which the other two were riding.

"Maybe it's a weight thing," suggested Harry.

This remark finally made Hermione speak, although her voice sounded weak, and she didn't bother to open her eyes
as she spoke. "There is no way you and Draco weigh less than me and Ron." She remembered the heavy book in her
pack, but it couldn't make that much of a difference. "No way," she repeated.

"Maybe the brooms are just not used to you," Harry said.

"Don't be stupid," Draco retorted. "Brooms don't get used to riders. They're not horses. They don't think."

"Then what? It can't be that both brooms malfunction when Ron is steering them, and work well when we use them."

"I think I know what it is." Hermione raised her head, and opened her eyes with some caution. She was relieved to
find that the world wasn't spinning as fast as she thought it would. "I think it has to do with your MQ, Harry."

"Will you stop with that MQ thing?" Harry said, feeling extremely annoyed.

"That could explain why the broom you're on goes faster. The rider's MQ can affect the broom." Ron frowned. "This
could also be the reason why you're such a good Seeker."

"Hey, me being a good Seeker has nothing to do with this stupid MQ. And there are two of us on the broom. This
could be Malfoy's fault."

"How could this be Draco's fault?" countered Hermione. "This requires a really high score."

Draco made an offended face. "I happen to have an MQ of one-hundred and fifty two."

"Yeah, right," mocked Ron.

"I'm serious," insisted Draco. "My dad had me tested when I was five. He arranged an official Ministry test for me."

"Your Death Eater father? He probably terrorized the examiner into giving you a high score."

"Not true!"

"So you can do Wandless magic? Let's see some." Ron fixed Malfoy a challenging glare.

"You know that the MQ only marks the potential of the wizard when he comes of age," said Draco defensively.
"That'll be in almost two years."

"So you can't," jeered Ron.

"Actually, I've never tried," drawled Draco, regaining his confidence. "I'm sure that under optimal conditions, I could."

"I dare you to try."

"This isn't exactly optimal conditions for a first attempt," Draco retreated.

"Then take an MQ test. I'm sure Hermione can conjure a reasonable test. I want to see you score over a hundred
and fifty."

"I would," Draco succumbed to the challenge, forgetting their rush. "But only if you all take the test as well."

"Agreed," said Ron eagerly.

"Wait a minute!" said Harry, who kept out of the argument until now. "Don't say 'yes' for me. I won't do it."

"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron implored. "Don't you want to expose Malfoy's lie? Don't you want to see him humiliated?"

"Not if I humiliate myself in the process."

"You'll do just fine," Hermione reassured him. "And it will be very interesting. Please?"

Harry couldn't resist the pleading tone in her voice. He nodded his head reluctantly. If he had known that agreeing to
the test would mean that She and Malfoy would sit together for long minutes, crouched over a piece of parchment
(which Hermione naturally brought with her) and making complicated calculations, he might have reconsidered. The
two were working together from the second the brooms landed in a nearby clearing they've found. Seeing them
together made Harry want to beat up Malfoy again, but he restrained himself. Finally, they were done.

"All right," said Hermione, stretching her back after bending over the calculations for too long. "We've calculated the
weight appropriate for each of us according to our dates of birth."

"What do you mean? What weight?" Harry asked.

"The test is simple," explained Hermione. "You will have to lift a certain weight using only your wand. The longer you
hold it suspended, the higher you score is. Ten seconds are worth a round one hundred. Eleven is a hundred and ten,
and nine seconds is ninety."

"That's all?" said Harry, a tad surprised. That sounded almost too easy. "How much would I have to lift?"

Hermione checked her notes. "I think - forty two." She ran her finger over the piece of parchment. "Yes, forty two
hundred Kilos."

Harry's face paled. He remembered failing to lift the Pensieve for very long, and that was an object he could lift by
sheer muscle power. That wasn't good. Concentrating on the mental image of Hermione's deeply disappointed face,
Harry missed the preparations for Draco's test. Draco was to go first, and he and Hermione had already prepared
the right weight for him, separating a large chunk of a fallen tree trunk, and conjuring a time-measuring spell.

Draco pointed his wand towards the tree trunk. The tension was clearly visible on his face. Fear that his father
actually did falsify that test started penetrating his heart, weighing it down to the pit of his stomach, where it remained
pulsing heavily. He pointed his wand to the log, and waited.

"Ready when you are," said Hermione after checking the time-measuring spell one last time.

Draco took a deep breath, steadied his wand, and stopped dead on the stop. Several blurred forms started to
appear behind the ready log. As Draco stared at them, they took the shape of no less than a dozen wizards dressed
in jet-black robes and wearing masks. Draco tightened his grip around his wand and watched them.

Harry was standing very close to Malfoy when he was about to start the test. Ron and Hermione were close by, too,
but he was especially interested in watching Draco's every move. He had no intention of shamefully failing in front of
Hermione. He saw the Death Eaters apparate just when Malfoy was about to begin his test. His hand immediately
went to his wand, while his eyes wandered around, detecting more Death Eaters apparating all over the clearing. As
is natural when facing mortal danger, the four children squeezed together.

All Death Eaters but one kept their initial positions. The one that moved advanced on them with cat-like stalking.
"Most satisfactory," he said when he was close enough for them to hear him. His voice sounded oddly familiar to
Harry.

Draco had had four hours during the previous night to wonder what he would do if forced to choose between the
Dark side and the object of his love. Four hours, and he had come to no conclusion. He couldn't care less about
what happened to Weasley and Potter, but Hermione - he had spent the entire four hours pouting over her.

Now that Draco was faced with that choice a lot sooner than he had expected, his mind was suddenly very clear. No
debate, no deliberation. He knew exactly to which side he belonged. "Hello, Father," he said, and stepped beside the
masked man. His wand pointed unswervingly at the other three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, where is that Skeeter woman being held?" Remus asked anxiously.

"We assumed she was at her house. Considering that our agents failed to return, that assumption might have been
correct."

"All right." Remus rose to his feet, offering Dumbledore a resolute facade.

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to protest, but reconsidered. "I know Sirius regretted very much leaving you
behind," he said.

"He is going to regret it much more once I find him," replied Remus.

A knock on the office door interrupted Dumbledore's smile at Remus' optimism. "Enter," he called.

The door opened to reveal a somewhat perplexed Lee.

"Come in, young Mr. Jordan. What can I do for you?"

Lee looked from Dumbledore to Remus, not sure if he could talk around him. Remus showed no sign of leaving the
office. Quite the contrary, he looked at Lee with curious black eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say. After some
more hesitation, and a few reassuring looks from Dumbledore, Lee decided that it was safe.

"I'm here about Ron Weasley," he said, and then hurried to add "and Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"What about them?" asked Dumbledore with a worried frown.

"They seem to be missing."

Dumbledore's advanced age appeared to have landed on him all at once. He leaned forward in his chair and looked
like he was searching for something in his desk drawers. Finally, he straightened up again. "So it would seem," he said
in a pensive tone. "And so is Draco Malfoy," he added.

"Do you think he could be responsible for their disappearance?" asked Lee. What he'd learned in the years he'd been
in school with Malfoy made him naturally suspicious of the Slytherin boy.

"No, I suspect it has to do with yesterday's front page of the Daily Prophet. Have you seen it?" Dumbledore pushed
the paper towards Lee.

"I'm afraid I have." Lee paused to think he promised Ginny he would try to look for Ron, but he had no idea where to
begin. "Is there going to be a search for them?" he asked. "Because if there is, I'd like to take part in it."

"There will be no search. Not in that sense, anyway." Dumbledore hurried to add, seeing Lee's face fall. "Remus here
was just about to leave for Rita Skeeter's house, to see if he can find, er, anything interesting there."

"Good," said Lee. "Then I'll come with you."

"You can't," said Remus softly. "This is going to be a very long and dangerous journey, and we have good reason to
believe her house is swarming with Death Eaters. It is too dangerous for you."

"It sounds dangerous," agreed Lee. "That is why you need to use all the help you can get. I'll come with you, and
we'll fight those Dark wizards together."

"You're very eager, and that's very nice." Remus offered Lee an admiring smile. "But you're too young to do this."

Dumbledore saw fit to intervene at this point. "How old were you when you lapsed into fighting the Dark Forces?" he
attacked Remus.

"Things were different then. Voldemort was rising. Good wizards were being killed. Our side needed reinforcement."

"And how is that different than what we are facing today?" asked Dumbledore.

"Er -" Remus was stuck. There wasn't much difference, actually. "All right," he consented eventually. "I'll fill you in on
the details on the way, but you have to promise to do exactly as I tell you, or else you should stay here now."

"I will do exactly as you tell me," Lee repeated obediently.

"All right," said Remus, still a bit reluctantly. He pointed at the paper on the desk. "Can I take that with me?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore. He watched Remus tear the front page of the copy, fold it carefully, and place it in
his pocket. His face wore a mask of grief and worry. "Good luck," he mumbled to their backs as they disappeared
behind the office's door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before Harry even had a chance to gape at Malfoy, his wand was already yanked out of his hand. He watched with
horror as Malfoy handed his wand to his father, feeling his guts tying themselves into a complicated knot. At least
now he could place the Death Eater's voice.

"We've done it, Weasley," Draco said, catching everyone else by surprise. "Take her wand." He glared at Weasley, waiting for him to move. If Weasley decided not to go along with his plan and attacked the Death Eaters instead, they were all dead, including him. He had just revealed that he was siding with him, no matter what side Weasley was on.

As if to stretch Draco's nerves to an impossible point, Weasley was laden to the ground, and didn't move. Luckily,
Hermione caught on. She practically pushed her wand into Weasley's hand, and lapsed into a fake resistance act.
Weasley tried to pull his hand back, not wanting to hurt Hermione, but she held it tight, making it seem like he was
holding her.

"Take it," she whispered between loud cries of protest.

Ron just stared at her. Her eyes were large and beautiful and begging him to go along with the charade. Finally, he
held her wand, holding her hand a little longer than necessary, just to feel her touch one more time. One time, which
could very well be the last.

She gave him a tiny supportive nod and cast her eyes to the ground, not wanting him to see the fear that was creeping
into her.

"Draco, you were able to recruit Ron Weasley?" Lucius Malfoy's voice sounded impressed.

"Yes, Father. I thought that Potter's best friend would make an important addition to our ranks."

"Very good, Draco," Lucius said proudly. "Our Lord and Master will be pleased."

"Thank you, father." Draco lowered his head at the mention of their master.

Lucius Malfoy took no chances. He kept five other Death Eaters with him to help him guard Potter and the
mudblood girl. Even though they were both tied with magical cords, he still remembered Potter's previous
performances and decided on some prudence. Truthfully, he bore some fear of the young boy.

The six masked wizards and the two boys ushered Harry and Hermione back into the hut from which they came.
Without the use of the state-of-the-art broomsticks, it took them well over two hours to get there.

Draco kept close watch on Weasley, making sure he wasn't about to make a foolish heroic move and kill them both.
He knew how cheap their lives were, even for his own father, and hoped that Weasley appreciated that as well. He
smiled bitterly, thinking that the only person there, whose life was treasured, was Potter who was saved to be served
to the Dark Lord. In any event, he made sure to block Weasley's view of the other Death Eaters.

By the time they got to the hut, Harry was thirsty, and weary, and was beginning to lose concentration. Their arrival
to the hut prodded him a bit, but still, he wasn't half-ready when the huge blow caught him at the back of the head. He
only had time to see Hermione collapse by his side before he blacked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I've brought you some food." The door closed behind Snape with a smooth 'clink' as he carried a large silver trey
inside.

The three prisoners jumped to their feet, and were on his side a second later. "It's about time," said Sirius, taking the
trey off Snape's hands. "Not as much as a glass of water until now. What kind of hosts are you, anyway?"

Arabella and Mundungus were in a less playful mood. They waited for Snape to be free of the trey, and then, both
made a grab at him. Mundungus caught Snape's left arm in a mighty lock behind his back, while Arabella swept him
off his feet. Before he even had time to shout the first syllable, Snape was on the ground, his shoulders locked beyond
any thought of motion, and his mouth gagged with both of Arabella's hands, and much of her weight. The rest of
Arabella's weight was on his chest, nailing him to the flagstones as an added bonus to Mundungus' lock.

Snape struggled to talk, but he barely even managed to breath under Arabella's pressing palms. He looked to Sirius
with eyes wide with fear and anger. Sirius returned his gaze, slothfully chewing on an apple from the trey Snape had
brought in with him.

"If I ask them to remove the gag, do you promise to behave?" drawled Sirius, spitting little bits of apple as he spoke.

Snape failed his attempt to say 'yes'. He nodded his head as much as Arabella's hold allowed him.

"That's a good boy," flouted Sirius. "All right, Arabella, you can take your hands off his face, but don't let him up."

Arabella removed her hands and wiped them on Snape's shoulders, expression visible disgust.

"I never should have removed the bonding spells off you," spat Snape. "I should have known you were a bunch of
treacherous, ungrateful, unworthy -" His rant was abruptly cut off by a hard slap from Arabella's hand.

"Good one," Sirius complimented her.

Snape's face was red with anger, although one side of it had a more vivid colour than the other. "You do realise that
if I'm not out of here in about one minute, real Death Eaters will be coming in."

"'Real Death Eaters' as opposed to you being a 'toy Death Eater' that you are?" mocked Mundungus. He looked to
Sirius, not remotely lessening his grip on Snape's arm. "Can I have a bite of that apple too? I'm starving."

Sirius moved to feed the apple to Mundungus, deliberately prodding Snape's ribs in the process. "How many?" he
asked.

"How many Death Eaters in the house?"

"I told you this was You-Know-Who's main headquarters," Snape said carefully, not releasing a number.

"What exactly does that mean? Ten? Twenty?"

"Around those numbers, yes," answered Snape. "Only -" He seemed to have something to say, but didn't know quite
how to say it.

"What?" snapped Sirius.

"There will be some honoured guests here today. That means that the house will be full." Mundungus released his grip
a bit, listening to Snape. Snape tried to wriggle out of the lock, but only managed to move slightly. "I believe there will
be around fifty minions of the dark forces by nightfall."

"Who are these guests?" demanded Sirius. He had neglected his apple completely.

"Release me, and I'll tell you."

Sirius considered that for a moment, and then signalled with his head for Mundungus and Arabella to get up. Snape
struggled to his feet and stepped to the door. He opened the door, stepped through it, and just before it closed, he
cast the words into the room: "Your godson and his friends."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First, they had needed to walk to Hogsmeade to apparate from there. No one was able to apparate from Hogwarts
grounds, and since they hadn't had prior knowledge of their target, they could not have a Portkey ready to take them
there. Then, they had apparated as close as they could to their target, which meant that they had landed almost fifteen
miles off-course. Remus had insisted that that was the minimum distance needed in order not to alert the wizards
guarding the house. As Lee was new to this business, and since he didn't want to annoy Remus before they even
really started, he had accepted Remus' opinion about it.

Now, two hours later, they were walking in the thickest forest Lee had ever seen. There was no marked trail, and no
way to tell where they were going. It was even impossible to see the direction of the sun to determine the east. Remus
seemed to be leading the way by some sort of an inner sense of direction. Lee had pulled out his wand frequently, to
use the 'point me' spell. To his surprise, they were exactly on course every single time.

The vegetation seemed, if possible, thicker, and Lee's long hair got tangled in a branch for the third time in ten minutes.
To his great vexation, this time, he failed to free himself on his own force. He called Remus for help.

Remus took a few steps back, until he was aligned with Lee again. "Is there a problem?" he asked, and then saw
Lee's gloomy face and his hand pulling desperately one of his dreadlocks that wrapped itself around a thick twig.
"Forget I asked," he said. He pulled out a knife and gently cut off the tip of the dreadlock, leaving it a few centimetres
shorter, but free as a bird.

"Thanks," Lee sighed in relief.

"No problem." Remus folded the knife back into his pocket, and resumed his navigation. They had a long way to
walk, and he wanted to get to the house as soon as possible. He didn't dare to think of the tortures inflicted upon
Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus. He even bore less the thought of one of them surrendering to the tortures and giving
crucial information to help the Dark Lord.

Remus increased his pace as much as the dense growth allowed him, when he heard Lee's voice calling him again for
help. He used his knife on another dreadlock, this time being a little less gentle and chopping off half of it.

Remus didn't bother to hide his annoyance when Lee called him the third time, all within the breach of only a few
minutes.

Lee knew that this could not go on. The forest seemed to last forever, and he was causing them delay. It was either
giving up on the search and letting Remus continue on his own, or giving up the dreadlocks. The dreadlocks were as
good as gone.

"Can I borrow your knife for a minute?"

Remus deposited the knife in Lee's hand with a curious expression. He watched him take a handful of hair and put
the knife to it. His mouth opened wide when he realized what Lee was doing. When he first met Lee, over three years
before, he had asked others about his odd hairdo, and they said that it was traced back long before he even entered
Hogwarts. Remus felt better about taking Lee with him. If he was this determined to succeed, he might be a
considerable reinforcement after all.

A moment later, Lee handed the knife back to Remus, standing in the middle of a small curled rug. Remus looked for
signs of remorse on his face, but there was none. Only determined resolution. He turned back to their original
direction, and started walking, a proud smile tickling his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron watched with horror as two mountainous Death Eaters knocked out his two best friends with heavy
metal-covered clubs and then heaved them on their massive shoulders. Both titans walked with their loads to the
large fire and the far wall of the room, and waited.

The rest of those present eased their wands into their pockets. Ron was almost compelled to use his wand to disable
Lucius Malfoy, but Draco Malfoy was in his path, glaring at him.

"You can put your wand away now, Ron," Draco said, stifling the urge to call him Weasley.

Ron was left with no choice. With arm muscles cramping from the number of contradicting commands, Ron pushed
his wand back into the pocket of his robes, unable to hide the agony this action caused him.

"Enthusiastic youth, are you not?" said Lucius Malfoy. He had removed his mask to reveal a patronising smile beneath
it. He placed a paternal hand on Ron's shoulder, sending the boy into a long wave of shivers.

Lucius Malfoy seemed to either have missed Ron's reaction, or to be used to it. He went to the stack of jars and
pulled out one.

"What is it?" Ron whispered into Draco's ear.

"Almost ordinary floo powder," replied Draco.

"What do you mean almost?" Ron was beginning to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"It will only take you to one place. No need to shout the name of the place you're going to. Very practical when
transferring prisoners."

"Oh." Ron pushed away the idea of using it to storm into the Ministry of Magic and alerting every possible wizard
there. "Where would it take us?"

"I have no idea," whispered Draco, allowing his own agitation creep into his voice.

"Draco, Ron, you go first," ordered Lucius Malfoy. He waited for them to step in front of the fire, not bothering to
hide his impatience. They both automatically stood at attention and watched him throw a pinch of powder into the
hearth. As the flames roared high, they stepped into them and immediately began to spin.

Their spinning ended seconds later in a large brown room. The walls and ceiling were made of thick cherry boards.
The floor was covered with a rug, displaying complex Arabic patterns in all shades of maroon. There was a low
mahogany table in the middle of the room, and a large cherry closet decorated its corner. There was something else
in there - people - wizards - Death Eaters, to be exact. Six of them. And they did not take well the boys' surprise
appearance.

One of the Death Eaters, undoubtedly the bravest of the lot, approached the two, his wand cutting the air before
him. It was aimed very distinctly at Ron, while the Dark Wizard was looking at Draco for explanations. "Isn't that a
Weasley?" he asked.

"Not just any Weasley," said Draco with feint smugness. "This is Ron Weasley. Our newest recruit. He helped us
bring Harry Potter down."

The Death Eater's face was not visible through his mask, but his posture suggested that he was considering the
feasibility of the thing.

The only thing in the room that was not the shade of brown was the hearth. It was antique silver and burned with a
green flame that was now swelling, indicating that someone was about to emerge from it.

The small group took a step back to allow space to whomever was coming out of the fire. A giant Death Eater
stepped from inside flames, carrying the unconscious body of Hermione. Right behind him was the other giant,
carrying Harry. Although limp and obviously out of action, both were securely tied up. Hermione's arms and legs
were put in shackles, which clattered as she was carried away. Harry's identical shackles could not clatter because
as an additional precaution, his arms and legs were also wrapped in thick ropes. The ropes did not end there.
They swathed his entire body, making him look like an oversized bobbin.

Ron watched the two giants and their cargo until they disappeared up a hall. Only then did he notice the fire swelling
again. One after the other, the flames spat out the remaining Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy who had replaced
his mask. When the transfer was done, Draco and Ron were standing in the middle of a circle composed of ten
masked Death Eaters, six of which were pointing their wands at them.

"That's my boy here," roared Lucius Malfoy. "Lower your wands."

The six aimed their wands to the floor, but made a point of keeping them in hand. "Did the Weasley really help you?"
asked the bravest one.

"He and Draco practically delivered Potter and the Mudblood to our hands," said one of Lucius Malfoy's
companions. He looked to his master for approval, and received it with a proud lift of the chin and towering shoulders.
"Draco's the one who apprehended Potter's wand and Weasley here took the mudblood's" It was obvious from his
tone of voice that he was aiming the words at flattering his master. By Lucius' proud posture, he was doing a good job.

"What made you switch sides, Ron?" The masked wizard who asked the question had used Ron's private name not as
a friendly gesture, but as a diminishing one.

"Draco," Ron said slowly. He looked intently at Draco's face, looking for the first sign of danger if he said the wrong
thing. Draco's expression was completely unreadable. For all that mattered, he could have worn one of those masks.
"He showed me the strength of the dark side," Ron continued experimentally. Still no response. "I'm a pure-blood
wizard. My family can be traced hundreds of years back. Draco made me realize the potential danger in contaminating
our ancestry with mudbloods and muggles. There is much power in keeping our blood clean." Ron wasn't sure, but he
though he saw a glimpse of surprise in Draco's eyes.

"And what about Harry Potter?" the Death Eater insisted, although his voice was less harsh now. "We were under the impression that he was your friend."

"He was," stammered Ron. "That is why he allowed himself to show me his true colours, and believe me, they aren't
so bright." Ron's speech became more fluent as his explanation progressed. "I do believe that the only reason he
wants to get You- I mean, our Master, is because he wants to take his place."

"I knew that!" exclaimed Lucius Malfoy. The other Death Eaters were murmuring as well. The six who had their
wands out pocketed them. Their leader came up to Ron and took his hand to shake it.

"You must be very anxious to get the Dark Mark seared on you, Weasley. Did Draco explain the procedure to you?"

Ron looked at Draco for help. He didn't know if a 'no' answer would be accepted well, but he was afraid to say 'yes'
and then be asked about it and not know the answer. Draco seemed to have appreciated the position he was in,
because he took the attention away from him.

"I have, Father," he said. "We thought that the mudblood we captured would be his sacrifice." Draco tried to ignore
Ron's paling face. "This is why he was the one to seize her. Maybe we could rest here for a few days, and then he
will present her to our Master."

"You are very much in luck," answered Lucius Malfoy. "You won't have to wait that long. Our master is scheduled to
be here this afternoon." He placed what was supposed to be a supportive hand on Ron's shoulder. "You didn't expect
to be marked for our lines so soon, did you, Ron?" He was right, of course. Ron truly didn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry felt something like soft leather under his head. He felt it with his hand before daring to open his eyes.

"Stop that. You're tickling me," said a soft, familiar voice.

Harry jumped to an upright sitting position. He looked at what he though was a pillow to make sure he hadn't
mistaken the voice. "Sirius!" he called after his eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him.

"Welcome to our humble prison, Harry." Sirius grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Hermione?" Harry ignored the question presented to him.

"She's right there with Arabella." Sirius pointed to one of the dimmer corners of the cell, where Arabella Figg was
seated, leaning against the wall, holding Hermione's head in her lap. "So, you decided to play the heroes and come
look for us?"

Harry almost said 'no', but then he remembered the real reason he was there - to look for whoever marked him as a
Death Eater. That was not something he wanted to share with Sirius. "I'm afraid so," he answered eventually.

"That was very stupid of you," scolded Sirius. "We're now in a worse condition than we were. We're still in their
hands, but now they have something to bargain with."

"I'm sorry." Harry's apology was genuine, but not for the reasons he wanted Sirius to know. "What do you thing
they'll do with us?"

"Probably turn us all into that ugly snake's breakfast." Sirius' voice was full of jeer. He pointed to yet another corner
of the room, where a huge serpent was coiled. It seemed to be sleeping until Harry looked at it. Then, it raised its
huge head and hissed at the two.

"Die, humans. I haven't eaten in three months. Die already."

Harry flinched so sharply, that he almost fell backwards.

"What? Did it say something to you? What did it say?" Sirius seemed to be torn between rabid curiosity and
fundamental fear.

"Nothing," lied Harry. "Just that it wants to get out of here." He stared at the enormous snake, which started lowering
his head, ready to coil back into sleep.

"Why haven't you eaten for three months?" he hissed at it.

"You can talk, human?" If snakes could look surprised, this one would have used that expression right then.

"You mean parseltongue? Yes, I can. I found that out when I accidentally set free a Boa Constrictor from an
aquarium in the zoo."

"How is it possible to do such a thing accidentally?"

"I just really wanted him to be out and poof! He's out." Harry's description matched reality much more than it may
have sounded.

The snake still glared at him, but its eyes have lost something of their murderous glamour. "No bodies."

"What?" hissed Harry back, not understanding what the snake was talking about.

"There were no bodies. All are either burned to ashes or drowned. This is why I've starved for three months now. It
seems that you are going to be my first decent meal after a very long time."

"What's going on?" intervened Sirius. He didn't like Harry's lengthy conversation with the snake.

"Nothing," Harry repeated his previous answer.

"Why don't you eat other things?" asked Harry. He hesitated about his next move, but he was afraid he was pushing
it. "I'm not saying 'give up the dead bodies', I'm just saying - have something else in the mean time."

"I have milk," hissed the snake. It tried to look disgusted, but only managed to shift its lower jaw a bit, which made
him like a sock puppet.

"I meant for something more substantial," hissed Harry. "Like rats or something."

"You eat Rats," The snake's hiss was louder than before.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised quickly. "I don't really know what snakes eat. I guess you could eat an elephant." The
snake stared at him and looked pensive. "But you probably don't want to look like a hat," added Harry.

The humour passed over the huge serpent's head. "What do humans eat? The substantial food?"

"You mean meat? We eat pigs, cows, lambs - I don't know."

"That's it?"

"No, we also have fish -"

The large serpent tried to retch.

"And birds," continued Harry. He was beginning to feel pressured. "Chicken, turkey, duck -"

"Duck?" the snake interposed. "Duck sounds nice… Maybe I could have some duck… Yeah…" It lowered its
head, winding its coils into a more agreeable position. It looked like its entire body was flowing, not all in the three
conceivable dimensions. Its head landed on one of the coils, and it was still moving its jaws in what looked like an
impression of someone smacking his lips.

Harry tilted his head with confusion. His attention was brought back to Sirius, who by now resorted to shaking him.
"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to pull you out of the trance that thing has got you into." Sirius' voice was on the verge of hysteria.

"I wasn't in a trance," dismissed Harry.

"Than why were you talking with it for so long?"

Harry sighed. He decided that holding one big secret from Sirius was enough, and described to him the conversation
he just had. To his surprise, Sirius wasn't at all freaked out by the idea of being eaten by the serpent. Sirius' only
response was "Oh, well."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the first time Ron had seen the Dark Lord.

Even before the tall skeletal figure had removed its hood, Ron already had a notion of why people were afraid even
of this wizard's name. He had a foreboding air of malice all around him. It entered any room before him, clearing the
way for him like a rolling red carpet. It lasted as long as he was in the room, and a while longer.

When he had his cowl removed, Ron felt his breath leave him. For the first time since he was eleven, he did not envy
Harry. He suddenly felt deeply sorry for him for having to face this. A moment later he'd realised that he might be
forced to face this wizard too. The thought made him quiver badly.

Lord Voldemort stalked into the room, his posture radiating confidence. "Where is Nagini?" he asked with a
high-pitched hiss.

"She is with the prisoners, Master," answered Lucius Malfoy. "I think she wanted to personally guard Potter." Truth
be told, Malfoy was very glad the snake was locked away. Its yellow-slit eyes always looked at him like it was
considering making him its next meal.

"Ah yes," rasped Voldemort. "Too bad about that." There was an audible threat in his voice. "You took him too soon.
The boy is not ripe. He will not move to our side. You should have waited."

"Master, please, the boy and his Mudblood friend found their way into one of our communications centres," grovelled
Malfoy. "We had to grab them before they could do much damage."

"Don't lie to me," erupted Voldemort. "You took them miles away from the centre."

"Yes Master, but they already had a good look around, and knew their way back. It was dangerous." Lucius Malfoy
made a garb at the hem of Voldemort's robes and tried to kiss it, but the Dark Lord stepped away, pulling his robes
with him. Malfoy fell forward to his knees. He stayed kneeling, and bowed his head before his master.

"This is hardly the time to fume about this," placated Voldemort, but immediately his serpentine face wore a harsh
facade once more. "We will have plenty of time for that later." He cast his red eyes over Ron. "We still have an
initiation process to take care of."

"Shall I bring the Mudblood girl, My Lord?" Lucius Malfoy was now looking for any excuse to get out of the room
and have a chance to catch his breath.

"Noooo." Voldemort put much feeling into that one single word. "All the times I had Potter in my hands, I have made
the mistake of giving him time to escape. No more. Bring Potter to me. I shall kill him now."

Ron turned completely white. Only his carrot hair indicated that he could have once had freckles on his face. He
watched Lucius's silhouette until it disappeared in the shadows of the hall, and then grabbed Draco's arm.

"We have to do something," he whispered. Luckily, the Dark Lord was some distance away and couldn't hear him.
"He's going to kill Harry."

"You're right," Draco tried to shake him off. "He is about to kill Harry. And if you want to have any chance of saving
Hermione, you will watch it silently."

"What?!" cried Ron. His shriek made Voldemort swirl to face the two boys.

"I already told you," said Draco impatiently. "You will have to choose one gift with your Dark Mark. Be thankful for
that."

Voldemort directed what was an unmistakable smile at them. He took a step towards Ron. "Can't wait to join our
lists as a full member, can you?" he placed a long white finger on Ron's cheek. His finger felt like it was kept on ice for
at least a few years. It released unpleasant shivers in Ron's nape. "So what will it be, boy? What will you ask when
you can have anything you might want?"

Ron didn't answer. He swallowed hard.

"Wisdom? No. Nobody ever asks for wisdom any more. Maybe wealth? That might suit you well." He regarded
Ron's tacky robes critically. "A small fortune might to you good - but, no, there's something else. Yes, I know what it
is you want. I had one just like you years ago. You want fame." He stopped talking for a moment to regard the spark
that lit in Ron's eyes. "Definitely fame. Well, there will be nothing easier to arrange, considering whose house we're in."

The sound of dragging feet could be distinctly heard from the hall, they all turned towards it, their contact breaking.
Harry emerged from the shadows, closely followed by Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy's wand was stabbing Harry between
his shoulder blades. Right behind them was Nagini. She slithered past them and recoiled at her master's feet.

"Black had him unshackled," muttered Malfoy. "I put a very simple binding spell on him." The bonds on Harry's
hands did seem loose and rushed.

"That hardly matters," hissed Voldemort. "In a moment, he won't be needing them." He started raising his wand.

Ron shook out of control. He sent his hand to his wand, unable to let his best friend die without a fight. Draco
spotted his movement and grabbed him from behind, praying that no one could see their struggle.

"Aren't we going to duel?" Harry tried to buy some time.

"No," Voldemort answered curtly. His wand was aimed directly at Harry's heart.

Harry's mind raced. "Don't you want Sirius to watch you torture me?" he tried again. He remembered how during
their encounter last year, Voldemort took great pleasure in hitting him with the Cruciatus Curse again and again while
Sirius was forced to watch. His rage was beginning to surge as he remembered the same curse being put on Sirius.

The Dark Lord took one step closer to Harry. "Move aside, Lucius," he hissed warningly. "This might have effect on
his surroundings."

The firm hand that had ushered Harry here left his side. The wand that was prodding in his back was removed.
Harry didn't have to look back to know that Lucius Malfoy had ensured a safety distance. He felt his heart sink low.
Fear and anger filled him. He knew by the expression on Voldemort's face that this was how it ended. He could see
it in his eyes.

"Avada -" The killing curse started forming on Voldemort's mouth-opening and on the tip of his wand at the same
time.

Harry was overwhelmed with despair. He didn't have a wand, and even if he did, there was nothing that could stop
this curse. He saw Malfoy forcefully restrain Ron, and for one selfish moment, one that could very well be his last,
Harry felt irrational fury towards the two for not moving to his aid. Of sheer desperation, he mumbled "expelliarmus,"
knowing that it would do him no good.

"- Kedavra," Voldemort finished. A brilliant green flare left the tip of his wand. It travelled with lightening speed
towards Harry. Before anyone in the room could make out its exact form, it hit Harry's chest.
 
 
 

A/N: Well, now is the time to let me know if you want Harry out of the picture, clearing Draco's path to Hermione's
heart, or, if you want him saved. As you know, I take requests.

Thanks to:
First and foremost, the wonderful, patient, caring beta-readers who gave meaning to my writing: Jeralyn, who has a
star cameo in ASA. Dinah, who neglected her studies for me. Tsk, tsk, tsk. And Isabelle Centeno, who will get a
Cameo in chapter #9.
Lizzy/Tygrestick: Eek. If the previous chapter scared you, I have no idea what this one will do. I truly am sorry, but
I'll try to write the next one quickly.
Amanita Lestrange: Betas are wonderful! Thanks.
Sarah Jane: Smiles back at you.
GinniPotter: As a token of my appreciation, you got some H/R moments in the previous chapter. Also, to your
request (and a few others), I gave Lee a haircut. When you say 'anything but H/H' - does that include killing off
Harry? Because you know - your vote counts! If you like WMPP, you should read everything by Saralea. She's
my inspiration when it comes to this gang. Stinkerbell also has an excellent story called 'Sirius' heartache' - very
recommended.
Blue Butterfly: Hon, I'm extremely flattered that you want to beta me just to get a hold of the chapters a bit sooner,
but beta-reading includes sending back the chapter with corrections. I'll send you #8 when it's ready anyway.
Al: your opinion means a great deal, and thanks for teaching me the word 'kudos' - I just put it to use. :) I'm sorry forr
the 'ferries' thing, although your description sent me ROFL. *sheepishly* Fixed that.
Dinah: Just though I'd thank you again, since you bothered to review after the e-mails. I added a Sirius-Snape scene
in this bit because of you, and you know there's several of them in #8.
Kris, HGW, Stark-raving-loony, Sarah, Mackenzie McKinnon: Thanks!
RatheraMutemwiya: I hope you still like Malfoy. Got a little carried there :). Seems like a nice idea for your own
fic. Feel free to use this as a base, if you feel like it.
Cassandra Claire: You've made some valid points. I tried to keep Hermione more to-character this time round
(well, more like from the next chapter). Luckily for me, I don't think Keith is reading this. :)
Diddly day: Absolutely right, with you on every word. But, if you look at my author's page you'll see the warning
that I don't promise to stay true to my ships.
LunaLuv: Amen! You're the only one who caught up on the slash hints. It won't go further than a few implies, but
I was afraid that bit was too subtle (if such a thing exists). Right about Hermione going OC, I actually don't like that
either, but, oh, this is soap. Anyway, I don't think she's playing with them. She was very direct with Krum, and she
may just not be aware of all the bustle around her.
SilverTone: Someone already said that he was afraid to cling into a ship in this story, and he was right. I'm as much
baffled about the ships as you are.
CrystalMusic: Er… okay, who's Gypsy? I thought this was all the doings of Cassandra Claire. Keep rambling! I
like knowing which points caught you.
Mwalimu: Wow! I wanted to e-mail you my thanks, but you never leave an address. 'tardiness'? are you kidding?
This was perfect - exactly what I needed. Fixed everythinng you mentioned, and I hope to hear more from you.
Anyway - feel free to mail me. Your vote shifted the balance towards adding more Sirius/Snape moments. More
to come in #8. I'll try to set Hermione back on character for #8.
Sanna: I'm sorry for the long chapter (?) It's nice to see that your belief in me is so great that you put a positive
review before you actually read the chapter. :)
reader: your vote was registered with all severity.
Banana Republic: Hey, hey! Nobody's dead yet! Oh, scratch that. Nobody died in the previous chapter. It sounds
like there's a real battle inside you. You do remember this is only a fun fic, right? :)
Parker Brown Nesbit: Thank for the multiple-reviews, and thanks for making an effort to beta. Nit-pick all you like.
I live for that. I have no idea who Hermione loves, but #8 certainly gives a plausible option. No doubt that she's
attracted to Draco. This story is a declared "Soap Opera" it makes it easier to write such rubbish. :) I'm still waiting
for your mail about Snape.
Mabel: thanks for reviewing past chapters as well. Good to know what you liked.
Martibella: pfew… good to know you don't think it was too long. Originally #6 and #7 were planned as one long
chapter, but I had to cut it in half.
Jessica: My god, you're brave! One sitting! I'm extremely flattered. Well, you made me add a 'stories not true to my
ships' warning on my author's page. Your vote for H/H was registered.
Dagan: Oh dear, you don't know what you've got yourself into. I'll post this, and then answer your mail with great
detail. Well, I must admit that the previous chapter was good for bedtime reading. I hope it didn't put you to sleep
too quickly. :) This time, I strongly recommend to let the ending lie down a bit before going into bed… I'll make it up
to you in #8.
 

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Chapter 8