(no subject)
Story Title: Far From Pure (Part 1 of [probably] 4)
Author: fungus_files
Word Count: 3754
Summary: Post-HBP; genfic; rating - PG.
An old shack, accidental discoveries, and a Wizarding world at war. Harry and his friends find more than they expect in their pursuit of the remaining horcruxes.
Disclaimers/Notes: NONE / Many thanks to snottygrrl and thrihyrne for betaing duties!
X-posted to my LJ. I intended this story to be a one-shot but it grew. Two parts are beta'ed and I'm currently finishing off the second half of the story.
FAR FROM PURE - Part I
It was several weeks before they found the place mentioned in Oswald Winterberry's Who's Who in the Serpent's House. The weak dawn light etched out the scene in the clearing as they crept to a vantage point. One look at the collapsed timbers and overgrown foundations was enough to start sinking their hopes.
"I can't believe this!" Ron, frustrated and exhausted, rocked back on his heels. Hermione remained where she was, checking the dilapidated building for signs of life.
Harry quieted Ron with a light hand on his shoulder. "It could still be the place."
"The entry said St John-Smythe had the gauntlets. Ravenclaw's gauntlets, Harry. The St John-Smythe family I've heard about would not be in a place like this." Ron cracked the top of his water-bottle and drank deeply.
"The book said that family was the last known one to have it, and this was one of their properties. This place could be anyone's now but the Tracing Charm Hermione did still highlighted this area." Harry looked at the map and tapped it clear when he'd finished. "I'm going to check it out. You two'll keep watch?"
"Not alone, Harry. You can't go there alone." Hermione shook her head. "It looks deserted, but someone's there. See? There's smoke from that chimney at the back. They've tried to hide it."
The three of them watched in silence for a while. Harry was about to suggest they circle around when a door at the side fell open. A cloaked figure stepped out, carrying a bucket and heading towards the low-set well nearby. Heaving the water back towards the shack with apparent difficulty, the figure stopped a moment and wiped a hand to his brow. The hood fell back.
"Bloody hell!" Both Harry and Ron seemed to stop breathing.
"So that's where he's been," Hermione murmured.
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A few weeks ago, rumours were rife in a Wizarding world still shocked by the loss of a figure such as Albus Dumbledore. Rufus Scrimgeour and his Ministry used the fear as an excuse to ramp up their monitoring and surveillance. Muttering about "the extent of Aurors' powers these days" didn't stop people being secretly grateful that there was such an ostentatious show of policing.
Even with the increased patrolling, however, the number of deaths and casualties in both worlds increased as the Death Eaters became bolder. Voldemort's talent for fanning people's fears meant that his ranks were swelling with those who dared not defy. The Muggle Prime Minister had even started to call the Minister of Magic by his first name.
Against the increasing turmoil, the three friends were preparing to set off from the Burrow.
"At least they're too busy to notice what we're up to most of the time." Ron skimmed through the family kitchen, filling a backpack with some supplies.
"Your mother has sure bought up on First Aid potions since all this started." Hermione gathered a few of the stockpiled vials carefully, packing them into a padded satchel. "I don't think I've seen so much murtlap essence in one place!"
A rattling at the backdoor caught them by surprise and they only just managed to stash their bags before Remus and Molly came in.
"I didn't know you'd be going there, Remus. Does Tonks…oh, hello, dears!" Molly stopped short when she realised Ron and Hermione were sitting at the kitchen table.
"Cup of tea, Mum? Remus?" Ron drew his wand and started floating mugs down from the cupboard. Another couple of things they'd gotten used to since Hogwarts closed: making tea for the adults, and calling them by their first names.
"Lovely, Ron, that'd be lovely." Molly looked distracted as she walked through, shrugging off her coat.
"Where's Harry? I wanted to say goodbye." Remus took the chair opposite Hermione. His eyes were bloodshot and movements too careful. He hissed with pain as his leg bumped the table-edge.
"Anything we can do, Remus? I thought Tonks was making you the potion that-" Ron stopped.
"She is." Remus was quiet for a long moment. Then a slow smile curved his mouth. "I never thought I'd miss Severus quite this much."
Everyone's laughter had a slightly jagged edge.
Harry walked in from the garden, smoothing down his shirt and quickly taking in the gathering in the kitchen. "Remus. Mrs. Weasley."
"Harry, call me Molly. How many times must I tell you?"
"I can't do it, Mrs. Weasley." Harry smiled. "Force of habit."
"Glad you're here, Harry. I was hoping to catch you before I left again, to say goodbye." Remus sipped at his tea.
Harry knew better than to ask where Remus would be going. Considered as adult, albeit very junior, members of the Order now, they were very well versed in what types of information would be shared. Instead, he nodded and asked, "Any news?"
"Nothing substantial." All attention focused on Remus as he hesitated.
"But?" Harry prompted.
"There're always rumours, Harry. More incidents. Disappearances. We haven't heard from Seamus for a while now." Remus sighed.
" Bloody Seamus never did make it past OWLs for punctuality. He'll turn up eventually, right?" Ron sought reassurance from those around him and met noncommittal gazes.
"Yesterday, I heard again that they'd found Draco's body," Remus continued. "This time it was in the Thames."
Molly gasped.
"Another stupid rumour, Molly," Remus rushed to reassure her. "He hasn't been sighted since, well-"
"Since he tried to kill Dumbledore." Harry was leaning against the sink, arms crossed. He watched Remus. "And Snape?"
"Nothing." Remus looked apologetic.
Nothing you're going to tell me, thought Harry with familiar chagrin.
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Tracking the Ravenclaw gauntlets after they'd found the entry in Winterberry's book had taxed their abilities to the limit. Most of the Order members knew of the horcrux quests now. There was some initial muttering about Dumbledore entrusting such crucial information to a mere boy, someone who wasn't even a trained Auror. When Harry destroyed Slytherin's locket and Voldemort's influence still continued to spread, the muttering grew louder.
It was pure luck that Professor Flitwick had stopped by the Burrow after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Leaning heavily on her favoured student status with Flitwick, Hermione had gleaned enough about the intricacies of Tracing Charms to narrow their search. That was a while ago. Since then, they'd spent too much time on the road, finding nothing.
Until now.
They heaped their packs under a nearby bush.
"I'm going around the back. You guys go round the other side." Harry was almost away before the others could stop him.
"Wait up, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing his forearm. "We're meant to be working together."
Ron nodded. "We're watching your back, remember?"
Harry paused a moment, mouth open, looking as if he wanted to argue the point; then he half-smiled and waved them to follow.
They stole toward the building, wands drawn and faces wary. The front door appeared webbed over with decades of dust and ivy, obviously not the entry of choice. The side-door was slightly ajar and Harry heard someone moving around the darkened room inside. Ron chanced a peek through one of the broken panes nearby, hunching down almost straight away. He held up a single finger. They continued scouting and saw no one else in the building.
Back at the side entry, Harry mouthed a countdown and the three of them burst into the room. They fanned out around the startled man, Ron hitting him with a Leg-Locker curse while Harry cast Silencio on him for good measure. The man fell gracelessly to the dirt floor, mouthing soundless obscenities. Hermione saw him dart a glance at a nearby table and immediately she crossed the room to scoop up his wand.
"That's pretty careless, Amycus," Harry commented, throwing open an adjoining door and having a quick look. "Where's your psycho sister?"
Ron looked out the back window. "Harry."
From the edge of the woods at the back of the shack, a shorter figure exited a garden shed. It looked a lot like Alecto.
Harry swore and immediately checked that Amycus hadn't rolled away.
They were waiting on either side of the door as Alecto came in. She soon joined her brother on the floor: silenced, her eyes furious, and her wand in Hermione's pocket.
"Wonder what's in the shed?" Harry muttered aloud, noting that Amycus' eyes widened with apprehension.
"You and Hermione check it out," Ron said, looping some old rope around the inert siblings. "I'll have a chat with my mates here. Probably a bit of a one-sided one."
The closer they got to the garden-shed, the more Harry and Hermione realised how exposed they were, crossing that unkempt back garden. The small building was in as dilapidated a shape as the rest of the property, with trailing creepers and splintery boards making up most of the walls. A rotting pile of hay slumped against one side. The shed door's latch boiled with rust, and the screws hardly seemed to be doing their job. The lock, however, was very new and almost ridiculous in its sturdiness.
"That's subtle if you're trying to hide something there," Hermione noted, before casting Alohomora. The lock remained shut. She tried a few other anti-impediment spells but only succeeded in turning the lock a deep green shade.
"Here, give me a go." Harry stepped back a few paces before ramming his shoulder into the door. The whole side of the shed shuddered but the door stayed shut. He rubbed at his sore arm, frowning.
They both heard the sharp click at the same time, and watched in shock as a pale face emerged from the space above the rotting hay.
"The door's not the door, geniuses."
Both their wands were at Draco's throat in a moment.
"Do you think I wouldn't have hexed you already if I had a wand handy?" He showed them his empty hands. "What the hell are you doing here anyway?"
Harry and Hermione kept their wands out as they pushed him back inside the shed. It was a dark, windowless space, with a lamp guttering atop a small desk. The walls were bare and stained with damp. The bed was spartan but looked clean.
"Where are the Bowtruckle twins?" Draco asked, crossing his arms and looking at Harry and Hermione in turn.
"They're being kept out of the picture for the moment," Harry said as he moved through the room, noting there were no exits except for where they entered. Sounds felt uncomfortably muffled in that space.
"Ah, that's where Weasley is then. Guarding those morons." Draco kept looking at where they'd come in. "There's no one else out there?"
"How about you answer some of our questions, Malfoy?" Harry's voice hardened, and he was momentarily back in the Astronomy Tower, frozen and powerless. When he spoke again, it was with cold fury. "Where's Snape? Why are you here with those two?"
"I'm an expendable asset." Draco's expression barely changed as Harry's anger filled the air. "And I don't know where Professor Snape is."
"We'd better get away from here." Hermione looked anxious. "There may be others, and it'd be better for the Order to deal with Malfoy."
"I'm not leaving!" Draco's voice rose an octave.
"Don't be stupid. You're obviously being kept as some kind of prisoner here." Hermione scanned the area outside. "It seems clear. Let's go."
"I told you. I'm not leaving." Draco sat by the desk, one hand gripping its edge.
"Malfoy, you're coming with us. End of story." Harry looked around at the barely filled room. "You're hardly going to need to pack."
"Are you Gryffindors deaf and dumb? I said I'm not leaving." By the wavering lamplight, Draco's face was even more sharp and hollowed. His nervous demeanour didn't tally with the forced cockiness that coloured his voice. "I can't."
"Why?" Hermione frowned. "You could leave here any time, couldn't you? But you don't."
"He has my mother." Draco's voice was barely audible.
They didn't need to ask who.
"If I disappear, they'll kill her. If I don't do what they say, they'll kill her. If I contact anyone other than one of them, they'll kill her." He glared at them and his mouth had a bitter twist. "I'm the one who's meant to be dead, anyway. After my failed mission."
"The mission succeeded, Malfoy." Harry's anger warred with the recurring image from that night of Draco's lowered wand. "Despite you, Professor Dumbledore's dead."
Even by the flimsy light in the room, they saw Draco flinch. He said nothing.
"What are they planning for you next?" Hermione asked.
"They don't trust me with that kind of information. All I know is that I wouldn't have this second chance if Professor Snape hadn't spoken for me." Draco's face stilled and went blank. "I won't know what they want until they send for me."
"So you're just going to sit here and wait till they send you on another suicide mission? You're real Death Eater material, you are." Harry's disgust was palpable.
"With your blind loyalty, so are you," Draco retorted. He slipped by them and scanned the area outside.
"There's no one there. I just checked." Hermione kept her wand trained on him.
"You don't how fast he moves," Draco said. "You need to go. I can't be seen with you."
"Who moves fast?" Hermione and Harry spoke at the same time.
"I need you to leave. Get out."
"Harry! Hermione! Where are you?" Ron's voice carried across from the middle of the yard.
Harry quickly grabbed Ron and rushed him back into the shed, which was now getting rather cosy with four of them crammed inside.
"Oh my god!" Ron stared at Draco in shock.
"What part of 'get out' meant 'bring a Weasley in'?" Draco once again stuck his head out of the shed, his manner even more jumpy.
"Who're you looking for, Malfoy?" Hermione tried to look over his shoulder.
"He comes every day. About this time." Draco suddenly swore and spun around. "He's here! You need to go NOW."
"Who? It can't be Voldemort?" Ron grabbed Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close.
"Don't be bloody stupid." Draco pulled the entry shut and locked it from the inside. "It's that mongrel werewolf."
With Fenrir's fetid breath all too well remembered, Harry started thinking Malfoy might be right about getting out.
"He's not allowed in here. He knows that." Draco seemed to be saying it to reassure himself more than anyone else. "But he's going to know you're here, by scent."
"We could Apparate from here back to our stuff," Ron suggested, "and again to the, er, where we're staying." He looked uneasily at Draco.
"I don't care where you go, Weasley, and I'm just as keen as you are for them not to know you were in here. Go! He'll be finding quite a surprise up at the house, I'm sure."
"As long as he doesn't hear us all Apparating from here," Hermione muttered as she concentrated for a moment and then was gone. Ron disappeared with a crack not long afterwards.
"He won't hear a thing that goes on in here," Draco said. "Can't you tell what this shed was used for?"
Harry looked at what he thought was creeping damp on the walls and noticed the bolts embedded in the planking. He felt his skin prickling. "And you still choose to stay? We can get the Order in on this. They could probably help."
"I don't have much of a choice, Potter."
"We all have choices, Malfoy. Some are just harder to make than others."
A howl of rage cut through to the muffled space, getting closer fast.
"Go!" Draco's voice was harsh and urgent.
Just before Disapparating, Harry saw Draco tense with a familiar fear, and heard the snarling thumps at the door of the shed.
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It was Kingsley Shacklebolt who dropped by Grimmauld Place with the news a week later.
They'd accidentally liberated Narcissa Malfoy. She was being kept at the same Death Eater premises to which a senior member of the Ministry had been kidnapped. She was imploring them to rescue Draco and bring him to her unharmed, promising information about Voldemort and his plans.
"The sooner we sort out what we're going to do about Draco Malfoy-" started Minerva McGonagall, still unfamiliar with sitting in Dumbledore's seat.
"The boy's gone! Dead!" Moody thumped the table. "Once she was taken by us, they'd have no leverage to make that pup do what they wanted. He'd be totally useless."
"Well, be that as it may," Minerva continued, fixing Moody with a glare over the top of her spectacles, "I'd rather we didn't make a habit of leaving people to terrible fates if we can prevent it."
"They would never tell him they'd lost her," Remus murmured.
The kitchen was packed with Order members. The meeting had already dragged on for several hours. The Malfoy issue was by no means a top priority.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat on a bench at the back. They were still smarting from the dressing down they got when they returned from the St John-Smythe property and conveyed what they'd found there.
"You'd think we brought Greyback to tea, the way they carried on," Ron had said at the time, none too quietly.
He'd earned himself a solid hour with his father in the sitting room. When Arthur strode out and straight upstairs, Harry and Hermione went in and found Ron hunched over by the fireplace. His eyes were tellingly red. All he said was, "He's not the only one to miss Charlie. We all do."
"It's worth confirming one way or another, surely?" Arthur was saying now. "Draco could be quite useful-"
"Doubt if he knows much, even if he still is alive. Too junior, and failed to get into Voldemort's good books. At any rate, I doubt if Narcissa would tell us much of consequence that we couldn't already get with veritaserum. With Lucius imprisoned all this time, I don't think Voldemort would've been keeping her in the loop." Moody's false eye swivelled and fixed on Harry. "We've got more important things to do. If the boy were to hear that his mother was safe, that's all he'd need to get away."
The meeting clattered on into the night, with solid decisions made about combatting the impending harpy invasion to the west, who would attend the pressing meetings with their international counterparts, the ubiquitous issues of recruitment, and nothing more about the Malfoys.
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"You sure this is what Moody meant?" Ron sounded more than a little dubious. He knelt beside Harry, fixing his gaze warily on the St John-Smythe shack once more. "They'll have moved him away from here for sure."
"I would've thought so, too, but Hermione's Tracking spell showed that he's still here." Harry still couldn't quite believe that Hermione had slipped a Tracker tack onto Draco's cloak last time they were there. She'd invented the device after studying how the Marauder's Map worked. When she told them what she'd done, she'd shrugged and said, "It was just in case. If we never needed it, it wouldn't matter."
Harry joined Hermione in casting a few scouting charms, checking for traps and webs of surveillance spells. There were some low level ones at the property's entrance that had been added since their last foray. No smoke drifted from the chimney. The place seemed deserted.
The shack itself was empty. The side-door door hung open and there was no one inside. The garden-shed looked almost as they'd left it, except for the huge scratch-marks and dents that scarred the planking in one place.
Going straight to the section of the shed above the rotting bale of hay, Harry pounded hard on the splintered surface.
"Malfoy! You in there? You ok?"
Nothing.
"It doesn't matter if we blast this thing, does it?" Ron had his wand poised at the wall where the small desk would've been. When Harry and Hermione shook their heads, he immediately shot a powerful but narrow spell at the base of the wall. The side caved in with a loud crash, sending up plumes of dust.
"Well, if Malfoy wasn't in danger before we arrived, he certainly is now," said Hermione as she coughed and waved her hands to clear the air around her.
The sunshine pierced the dim interior of the shed and its scarce contents looked even more pathetic.
As the dirt settled, they all saw him at the same time. Ron's first thought was amazement at how much blood a human being contained. Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with horror. Harry was at Draco's side in an instant, checking for a pulse.
"We need a Healer - now," he shouted.
By the time Ron Reapparated with Remus and one of the Order's top Healers, their old classmate Susan Bones, Harry had eased Draco's head onto a folded shirt. Hermione's basic knowledge of medic spells meant that Draco was, for the moment, pain-free. Susan immediately set to work on the injured man, her face taut with concentration and not just a little compassion.
The moment Remus saw Draco, he almost fell to his knees beside him. The vicious, ribbon-like slashes that marred Draco's pale skin could only have come from one source. They'd all seen them before on Bill Weasley. There was a particularly nasty bite on Draco's left shoulder, a crescent of inflamed and ugly flesh.
"It was a full moon last week," said Remus in an oddly neutral voice.
"Malfoy's been unconscious most of the time," Hermione said. "But he did say a couple of things at first when he recognised Harry."
"And they were?" Remus prompted, uncharacteristically brusque.
"He said, 'You win, Potter.'" Harry's voice was soft. "Then he asked if it was too late to make another choice."
"It's never too late for another choice," Remus said quietly, then fell silent.
They watched the Healer spell away some of the minor injuries but he still looked in shocking shape. Harry couldn't help noticing the silvery gleam of the old scar that sliced across Draco's chest.
"Will he be ok, Susan?" Harry crouched beside her.
"He'll live, if that's what you mean. Just." Susan sorted through the clutter of empty bottles and pouches at her side. Her hands worked fast. "But we need to get him to St Mungo's right now. He's stable enough to be Apparated, I think."
[END Part I]