Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

/Harry./ Draco knelt down next to Harry. He took the other boy by the wrists, and held them tightly. /There isn´t any point./

Harry raised his chin. His eyes were abnormally clear; a tearless, lucent green. /Why didn´t he Memory charm us right away, your father? As soon as you smashed the vial?/

/Now heś being sadistic/, Draco said wearily. /Now we made him angry -

thereś no telling what else he´ll do./

/Or has done./ Even Harryś inner voice was inexpressibly weary and flat.

/All this time I thought you hated him. But you hate yourself more. Or maybe you hate me./

/Hate you?/ Dracoś grip on Harryś wrists tightened, and Harry winced.

"My hands," he said out loud.

Draco looked down. "Hell, they´re full of glass. You´re a fool sometimes -

why didn´t you put your gloves on?" He let go of Harryś wrists. "Hold your hands out flat. I´ll get the glass out."

Draco drew his gloves off. Harry didn´t say anything as Draco used his bitten fingernails to pull the silvers of glass out of the skin of Harryś palms. Blood welled up where the glass had been and ran down Harryś wrists like scarlet threads unraveling.

"Tear a piece off my cloak," Harry said. "To save the glass in."

Draco knew what he meant, and did it, folding the glass slivers into the bit of cloth. He knew it was a waste of time, but did it anyway, not looking at Harry. The odd kneeling position was making him sweat; he handed the folded cloth to Harry and rubbed his damp hands on his cloak. They left bloody fingerprints behind. "What a mess," he whispered under his breath. "Can you close your fingers?"

"I can make a fist," Harry said. His voice sounded oddly constricted.

Draco sat back on his heels. "Look, if you think that I…"

He didn´t finish his sentence. The tower door opened for the fourth time that night; Harry, who was facing the door, sucked in a gasp — of astonishment or horror, Draco couldn´t tell. He twisted around and stared.

The person standing in the doorway was not Lucius Malfoy. It was not a Death Eater either. It was a slender figure in a yellow cloak like a torch in the darkness; between the bright cloak and her bright hair her face was very white.

Draco got to his feet, still staring in disbelief. "Ginny? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, my God," Ginny said, staring past Draco at Harry. She had thought for a moment that he was wearing black gloves, but as Draco moved towards her and the moonlight fell on Harry, she saw that it was blood.

"What did he do to your hands?" she whispered. "What happened? Why are you two up here?"

Draco simply stood and stared at her. The expression on his face was so complex as to be utterly unreadable. It was Harry who moved. He got to his feet and strode over to her. "Ginny," he said, taking hold of her shoulders. "Did anyone see you come up here?"

She shook her head. "No. I followed Lucius to the door and then I hid and waited for him to leave. He didn´t see me. He looked really angry, so I figured it had to be something to do with Draco." She smiled weakly.

"Only Draco can piss somebody off like that."

Harry didn´t smile back.

She went on quickly: "The door wasn´t locked, so I just waited for Lucius to go downstairs and I came up here. There weren´t any guards."

"No," Draco said. "There wouldn´t be — but Ginny, what are you doing here? How did you get back into the Manor?"

Her heart skipped a beat. The Time-Turner, nestled under the collar of her cloak, suddenly seemed a heavy weight. "I never left," she began, but Harry interrupted her.

"It doesn´t matter," he said flatly. "You´re here and the doorś open.

Thatś all that matters. We have to get out of here, and quickly, before Lucius comes back." He twisted around to look at Draco, his hands still on Ginnyś shoulders. "Can you get us out of the Manor?"

Dracoś eyes narrowed to silver crescents. "I can bloody well try," he said.

Harry slowly lowered his hands. Later Ginny would find two bloody handprints on her cloak, one on each shoulder. Very lightly, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand: it was a gesture Ron might have made, or Charlie, reassuring themselves that she was all right. For the first time, she saw that there was a terrible sadness in his eyes that went beyond the normal anxiety of their situation. "Malfoy," he said, without looking at Draco. "You lead us."

Draco said nothing — although whether he replied to Harry silently or not, she did not know and didn´t want to venture a guess — but he slipped past Ginny like a shadow, silent and lightfooted. She followed him, and Harry came behind.

Going back down the narrow stairs that led into the Manor felt wrong -

like heading into a prison. Ginny gave a little gasp as Harry closed the tower door behind them and the stars vanished; now they were in a dim and confined space of leaping torchlight. She followed Dracoś straight and slender shadow as he made his way down the stairs. At the foot he turned sharply right and ducked down a corridor; he pushed a tapestry aside and there was a door behind it.

"Secret staircase," he said quietly, and put his hand to the doorknob. It opened smoothly under his touch. He exhaled a breath of relief and held the door open so that Ginny and Harry could pass through.

This second staircase was even narrower, and there was no torchlight at all. A dim phosphorescent glow came from the walls. There was a dank smell, as if they were standing at the bottom of the sea.

"I have my wand," Ginny said quietly, "I could Lumos.."

"No." Draco caught at her hand. Something hard banged against her fingers; she looked down, and saw a clear adamantine cuff around his wrist. "No magic here."

She nodded. Harry led the way, turning sideways to get around the first narrow turn of the spiral staircase. Ginny twisted around and looked up at Draco; he looked distant and distracted. Not sad the same way Harry did, but in a more contained manner. He was thinner these days and it had given him a harder edge: there was something metallic about his beauty now, as if the potential for cruelty there had evolved nearer the surface. "Tell me you´re all right," she said, in a very soft voice.

"I´m all right," he said. His voice was cool and affectless.

"I seem to recall having rescued you from a tower before once," she said, as lightly as she could, hoping to make him smile.

The half-lidded eyes opened wide for a moment; he looked directly at her.

"And I seem to recall telling you once that I didn´t want to be saved," he said. "Especially not by you."

"Are you two coming?" Harry hissed from around the corner. Without looking back at Ginny, Draco turned and went after him. Biting back a furious response, Ginny followed him. Half-blinded by the darkness and the sting of tears, she stumbled after squeezing through the narrow turn and reaching the top of the stairs. A hand gripped her shoulder and righted her; it was Draco.

"Steady on," he said.

She yanked her arm away angrily. "Don´t touch me," she snapped.

Harry, waiting on the landing below, looked weary. "I am not even going to ask," he said.

"Better not to," Draco said. It seemed to Ginny that behind his closed expression, a faint grave amusement had quickened.

"Don´t you laugh at me either," she said, knowing she sounded unreasonable.

"Wouldn´t dream of it," Draco replied, and took the stairs two at a time, landing lightly next to Harry.

"Ungrateful bastard," Ginny muttered under her breath, and went down the stairs carefully. The boys, waiting for her on the landing, were already deep in discussion when she reached them.

"Where does this passage go?" Harry was asking.

"Under the moat," Draco said. "It lets out in the rose garden. It should, anyway."