Chapter Four

Chapter Four

At Ginny’s outburst, there was a general shifting of attention from the front of the Great Hall to the out of breath red-head. Gasping, she struggled to remain upright after her seemingly long flight from Gryffindor Tower and subsequent immediate stop. When she regained her balance, she noticed that no one had moved, save to stare at her. Extremely frustrated at the lack of any emotion except blank surprise on the faces of those gathered there, she yelled again, hoping to incite a reaction out of those who could help (and at the least, to do something to alleviate the guilt she felt for not letting Ron go to Grimmauld Place sooner).

“What the hell are all of you standing around for? I said that Harry and Hermione have been captured!”

‘There. That got them going,’ she thought as people began moving as one toward her.

Bill and Fleur, who had settled themselves toward the back of the Hall, surreptitiously to argue about what Fleur was to do when the time came to fight, were the first ones to Ginny.

“How do you know this?” asked Bill, grabbing Ginny’s arm. Fleur looked at her with frightened eyes from over Bill’s shoulder.

“I’ll explain everything later,” Ginny replied as she pried Bill’s fingers from her upper arm. “Just get as many people as possible to Grimmauld Place as you can. Ron has already Flooed there.”

Bill, who had been looking at Ginny intently, raised his eyebrows at her statement about Ron. After searching her eyes, he nodded at her grimly then looked around at those who had gathered closer. “All right. Anyone who has access to headquarters! Let’s go!”

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Ron, for all his apparent lack of intelligence, had the foresight to Floo into one of the least used rooms at Grimmauld Place. With the feeling that something was wrong, which he had repeatedly and with much frustration tried to explain to Ginny, he decided that utilizing the Floo in the kitchen would have alerted whoever (or whatever) was causing Harry and Hermione to be late. Luckily, the Floo he used was the one near the door to Buckbeak’s old room, which also happened to be furthest from the study. This enabled him to stealthily find his way through the house, looking for his best friends.

The five minutes it took him to creep down the stairs, wand out and ready, gave him the time to think about what he needed to do. Because of the location of the attic, he was able to check every room of every floor for intruders. Finding none, yet still wary as there were no sounds at all coming from the lower floors, gave him a sense of hope that there were not many enemies there.

When he arrived at the study, he was able to see a flickering light and movement from a crack in the doorway. Cautiously, he crept to the door and nudged it open a little more, just in time to see a dark form hovering menacingly over one of the sofas. On the other one, he could see that there was something lying on it, which he assumed to be either Harry or Hermione, as there was a little movement. He backed slowly away from the door as Lucius bent down next to the sofa he had been standing over. Then Ron, continuing to use (what was thought by some to be) his limited intelligence, turned to quickly check the other rooms on the floor then scurried silently back to the fireplace he had come from to alert Ginny.

“Ginny,” he said after thrusting his head in activated the Floo connection. “Get the Order! Someone has them!”

“What …?” Ginny began, but Ron cut her off.

“Just do it. I don’t have time to explain. I don’t know who it is yet and there is only one, but you can bet that if it is a Death Eater, there will probably more here soon. I got lucky in getting down there and back up again. Just get someone over here!”

He pulled his head out of the fireplace before Ginny could ask any questions and hoped that she would be able to get someone there in a few minutes. Otherwise, he would have to do whatever it took himself.

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Lucius Malfoy’s putrid breath washed over Hermione’s face as he asked her again, “Where is my son?”

Hermione was scared, even more so than she had been at the Ministry of Magic over a year before. Malfoy’s hideous countenance would be enough to strike fear into the heart of the bravest Gryffindor, and she knew she was by far nowhere near the bravest. She tried to speak. She really did. Not to tell him anything, but to reply that she didn’t know. However, all that came out was a small squeak.

Malfoy’s fingers tightened around her chin and jaw, but seeing that she could not answer him, relaxed and finally fell away. With an air of defeat, he sighed and completely sat on the floor near her head, leaning tiredly against the front of the sofa near her shoulder.

“You have no reason to trust me. I know that. My family and I have been terribly rude to you and your kind for centuries. Not that you would know what we have done.” He looked at her with a kind of sadness in his eyes, something that she would have never thought possible coming from a Malfoy. “I need to find my son,” he said earnestly. “I need to know that he is alive. I need to know that he is safe and will remain so.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, and although her fear abated somewhat, she still did not want to speak. Malfoy appeared not to care as he continued talking; this time, his voice was harsh.

“He killed my wife. The Dark Lord killed Narcissa. My beautiful Narcissa. Because of me. Because I couldn’t do what he needed me to do.” Malfoy was staring through Hermione, his eyes taking on an emptiness that forced the fear she had lost back to the forefront of her mind. Insanity was a hair’s breadth away from controlling him, and Hermione was sure that no matter what he had said, Malfoy would not be able to help himself when it happened.

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As it was, very few people were to converge upon Grimmauld Place. Bill Weasley, along with Fred and George, who had been spoiling for a fight, Neville Longbottom, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were the only ones who still retained access to the house. They had been among the last to leave, and while the wards were weakening, they were still strong enough to keep out anyone whose magical signature they did not recognize.

Because they did not know what they would find when entering through the Floo, they used one of the teacher’s offices closest to the Great Hall. They had not wanted to Floo from the Great Hall because of the noise from inside; Ginny’s screeching had caused a near panic before they left, and they did not want any of the noise to come over through it.

“Be as quiet as you can going in,” said Kingsley. “We don’t know where Ron is, how many there are, or where exactly they are in the building. Let’s Floo to different parts of the house and meet up on the ground floor. Fred and George, you Floo to your old room. Neville, you go with Bill to the second floor. I will Floo to the kitchen. Keep quiet, keep it slow going, and try not to get hurt.”

All four had been staring at him, nervous yet excited to get into some action. One by one they threw Floo powder into the fireplace, called out their destinations, and disappeared.

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A/N: It isn’t long, I know. I am not truly happy with this chapter, but it was a necessary one. I am in the planning process for the next chapter, and I hope to get it to you in the next week or so, but I may have to put it off for a while. Thanks for sticking with me!

Many thanks go out to Vaughn who took time out of her extremely busy schedule to look over this for me.