Summoning the Circle

Chapter Nine – Summoning the Circle

It was two weeks before Draco Malfoy regained consciousness. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey's abilities, he would make a full recovery given time.

All except one of the other inhabitants of number twelve, Grimmauld Place avoided his room as much as possible. After seeing the condition the boy was in, Mrs. Weasley had appointed herself to the task of nursemaid, always making sure he had everything he needed. She followed Madam Pomfrey's orders very strictly. She even cooked a special diet, and unfortunately for the rest of the Weasleys and Harry, it was the only thing she cooked.

Draco had problems speaking and concentrating as a result of the nerve restoratives he had to take. Every interrogation was stopped by either Molly or Madam Pomfrey as soon as the young man showed any sign of exhaustion. So until now, he had not been able to relate any useful information to the others.

It was November now, and there was still no sign of Hermione anywhere. Bill and Charlie had renewed their search after an issue of a local Muggle newspaper fell into their hands or rather was delivered to them by a very upset Percy. It reported the collapsing of the Grangers house and how the police had found two bodies under the ruins. Their search for Hermione, however, remained futile.

The locket and its origins had not yet been discussed further. Harry and Mr. Weasley had decided to involve as few people as possible, only Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks would be informed. They were the two people Harry trusted the most, and they had the closest relationship to the house of Black. Getting the whole Order involved would be too risky. There was a leak somewhere. During the last three weeks, five Order members had been injured while on a supposedly secret mission. The Ministry, as well, suffered failure after failure. An attempted raid on a known Death Eater hide out that the Aurors had been watching for months had failed spectacularly. Somebody had apparently warned them.

Since there was no knowing who it was, the mistrust within the Order grew. Alastor Moody may have been good at catching dark wizards in his time, but he was an unfit leader. He lacked Dumbledore's talent to keep people together, and the ability see things from different angles.

The Order meetings were still conducted at the old Black residence, though they now followed strict, almost military-like procedures. Order members were called in to give their reports and assigned new tasks; no discussions, no opposition were allowed.

Malfoy's presence at headquarters was kept a secret amongst the permanent residents for the time being.

~o~o~o~

The atmosphere at Spinner's End was better than it had been in years. Often, one could hear female laughter accompanied by a deep baritone chuckle. After the rather rocky start and some misunderstandings, Hermione and Severus began to develop an understanding for each other.

Hermione learned to ignore his harsh comments, and Severus tried not to get annoyed by her incessant questions. During the day, they got on better then anyone would have guessed, but when it was time to retire, the air was ripe with tension. They both anticipated and dreaded going to bed, because the sleeping arrangements hadn't changed since the night of Severus' nightmare.

It was on a Wednesday night when the Dark Mark on Severus' arm started burning. He got up and retrieved the heavy black cloak, silver mask and black leather boots that would transform him into a minion of evil. Unused to a process that had been routine months before, he swore rather loudly, startling his companion awake.

The first thing Hermione saw when she opened her eyes was a black mass of fabric with two legs, turning and twisting in the candlelight. It was hilariously funny, and she started laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

Severus had forgotten the protection spell put on all Death Eater garb. It was an attestation to Voldemort's paranoia that he felt the need to make sure that he had control over everything, even their clothing. The Dark Lord was more afraid of rebellion from the inside than of the ministry or the crumbling Order of the Phoenix.

Severus tried getting a hand free to get to his wand. Getting strangled by his own robes was not the way he wanted to die. It took him some minutes, but he was finally able to grasp it, touch it to the Mark on his left forearm, and intone the spell that would allow him to put them on. They fell still the second the words left his lips. He dressed methodically then, step by step, to avoid a repeat performance. By the time he was finished, Hermione had regained her composure and was watching him.

No matter how funny he had looked just moments before, the image she now perceived was more than frightening. Even without the mask, he reminded her of the men who had destroyed the safe haven that had been her family. Severus saw her flinch as he approached.

"I want you to remain awake, Hermione," he said in a serious, authoritative tone. "If you hear noises downstairs or if the fire in here turns green, get into the bathroom. The back wall of the shower slides away when you tap the broken tile at the bottom, and it will slide into place by itself when you have passed through. The passage that will open the moment the front is sealed leads to the cellar. There you will wait. I will enter that way when I return."

Hermione nodded dumbly. Why was this safe system built into his home?

"If I do not return for three days, you can assume that I am dead," Severus said in a voice bereft of all emotion. "The stores, as you know, will provide you with food. Only if you are certain that the house is empty again, should you try to get to a safe place, preferably a Muggle area."

Again Hermione only nodded. Severus turned towards the door, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "It has been nice having you here these last weeks," he said without turning to face her. Before the confused witch could reply, Severus swept out of the door.

He had already lost much time and would be punished for his tardiness. It was worth it, however; Hermione knew how to react in case of a raid. She would be safe.

~o~o~o~

"Ew, what is that crap? You don't want us to eat that do you?" Ron drew a face at the unappetizing brown slush his mother placed in front of him.

"It's dinner, Ronald," Percy's voiced admonished. "You should be grateful that you get anything at all, considering how much you are complaining about the food lately. Our mother does her best to make sure we are all taken care of; you should show her the respect she deserves."

It was almost like old times at the Burrow, before the falling-out, with Percy lecturing his younger siblings. Now the estranged son had come back into the nest, and Molly was more than happy about it.

Harry eyed the scene before him with a frown. Percy had waltzed into headquarters one evening, accompanied by one of Moody's newest recruits. Nobody bothered to ask him about his sudden change of mind regarding his family. Molly had not allowed any accusations to be voiced. Harry had never particularly liked the bespectacled redhead; he was very calculating. Just like everybody else though, he held his tongue.

"Harry, dear, eat before it gets cold!" Mrs. Weasley had moved to stand by his side, smiling down at him while wiping her hands on an old dishtowel. Morosely, Harry started spooning the substance into his mouth. He was extremely relieved when Arthur Weasley came barging through the door. Their eyes locked, and without a word, Harry stood and followed the other man out of the kitchen.

They were not even halfway through the door when Arthur stopped, making Harry running into him. "Ron, are you coming?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

Ron shot to his feet immediately, meal quite forgotten. Percy made to follow as well, but was stopped by the raised hand of his father. "This has nothing to do with you. As glad as I am that you have come to your senses, you have to earn your place in this family again." With that Ron, Harry and Arthur stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Arthur led the two curious boys up the stairs, not giving reason or explanation for the summons. They entered the attic room where Harry had spent weeks crying and raging over the disappearance of Hermione; only it looked nothing like it had then. The room was now spotlessly clean. The moth-eaten drapes had been changed, the window was clean, and there was no sheet of dust on the floor anymore.

The bed Harry had slept on had been replaced by a comfortable looking dark red sofa. Two matching armchairs sat on either side, grouped around a round table piled with books. A duplicate of the Black family tree hung on one wall next to what looked unmistakably like a Muggle flip chart.

A knock sounded at the door, and without waiting for a response, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks entered. Obviously not expecting any more people, Arthur warded and locked the door. He beckoned the boys to sit; Remus and Tonks did as well.

"I summoned you all here today to discuss a matter of great importance," Arthur Weasley started. "Harry has recently brought something to my attention. Albus had for a long time suspected that You-Know-Who has found a method to bind his spirit to this earth. This locket," he held up the heavy golden object, "was a Horcrux once." Here he paused, trying to gauge the reaction of the two other Order members. Tonks looked blank while Remus gasped.

"It was found here in this very room. It holds no more dark magic; all the tests I performed gave the same results. The question that is important for us to answer now is, how did a Horcrux, which Albus believed to be hidden in a cave many miles away, come to be here? You two," Arthur turned to address Tonks and Remus, "are the closest connection to this house. You know about the family of Black. We need your help to determine why this locket came to be here."

"I have no clue," Tonks blurted. Remus took a moment to think before he looked up at Arthur. "The Blacks had many ties with Voldemort. It was tradition for them to join the Death Eaters. It's impossible to say who might have brought it here."

"Remus?" Harry started tentatively, "Do you know a Black with the initials R.A.B.?"

"The only Black with 'R' I know was – "

"Regulus!" Tonks almost screeched. "Regulus Arcturus Black."

~o~o~o~

Hermione spent the night with her wand pointed at the door. Every noise scared her. Twice she had bolted into the bathroom, only to realize that the noises were unthreatening – the hooting of an owl, a car.

It was about five in the morning when the bathroom door opened, and Severus fell through, barely able to stay upright. Blood was coming out of his nose and mouth, and his robes were torn in several place, showing deep cuts.

Hermione rushed to help him to the bed, only to be pushed aside roughly. She chose to ignore his protests and made a second attempt. This time he allowed her to guide him to the bed. He sat down and let out a strangled sound of pain. "Potions... bathroom... cabinet... Prince..." Speaking robbed him of his last strength, and he fell back onto the bedding, unconscious.

Hermione rushed into the adjoining room, paying no mind to the red bloodstains on the white tiled floor. She found the cabinet, but it wouldn't open. "I need the password, damn. What did he say... 'cabinet' and... 'Prince.'" The cabinet door swung open. She picked up one bottle after the other, reading the labels, trying to figure out what she would need.

Arms full of vials, she returned to his bedside and started to administer a pain relief potion. It was difficult to get him into a position where he was able swallow it. When that was done, she carefully stripped him down to his boxers. The damage was excessive. He had been cut with a knife several times and been beaten, if the bruises that were forming on his torso were anything to go by.

For two hours she worked, healing the exterior damage as best as she could. By the time she lay down next to him, the sun had come up. He would pull through, she hoped. There was no telling if any internal damage had been done.