Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

Harry closed his hand around the brooch. "That means Ron is here," he said quietly.

"That's why we're here, isn't it?" Draco said.

"Yes, it just — seems so real all of a sudden." Closing his hand around the pin, Harry slipped it into his pocket. Then he drew his sword, and a long, shuddering breath after it. "It's time," he said. "Take your sword out, Malfoy."

Draco looked at him, a steady but distant look under half-lidded eyes, as if he peered under a glass. Grey shale dust filmed his hair and clothes. He looked like a ghost. He leaned forward and kissed Harry on the cheek; a quick kiss from lips dry with exhaustion and dirt.

"Ave, Caesar," he said. "Morituri te salutant."

He pulled back, and Harry blinked at him. "Does that mean yes?" he asked.

Draco drew his sword out of its scabbard; it glimmered dully in the light of the setting sun. "It means we all die someday," he said, and pushed past Harry, so that of the two of them he was the first to set his feet on the last path that led to the fortress.

"Never," said Tom. "You will never die, sweet one. You will live forever, always at my side. You will be there to remind me of the flesh I arose from, even when the rest of the world has sunk to flame and ashes. At the end of the universe, we will be together, and after it, together we will rule the void."

He smiled at her like a light going out, and Ginny wanted to scream, but found she could make no sound. She held tightly to the frame of the mirror as he turned and walked away from her, the light gleaming along the silver braid on his cloak. The sound of a door opening came again -

although she could see nothing — and he vanished, without a backward glance. Ginny's fingers let go their grip on the mirror and she sank soundlessly to the floor.

She didn't know how long she sat there, curled around herself, fighting tears. At length a noise made her raise her head — a door closing or opening, very far away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, rising to her feet. Tom, she thought with dread. He's come back.

Almost without volition, her right hand lifted to clutch the pendant around her neck. "Tom?" she whispered.

"No," said a familiar voice, "not Tom." She heard fabric rustling, and then two white hands appeared out of nowhere, and then a familiar, frizzy brown head. Ginny blinked in stupefaction as the invisibility cloak fell away, and Hermione stood in front of her in torn jeans and an old Puddlemere United shirt. She was shaking her head. "Honestly, Ginny," she said. "The messes you get yourself into."

"Hermione!" Ginny almost wanted to hug the other girl, but Hermione's scowling expression forbade her. "I'm so glad to see you — I mean," she added hastily, "not that I'm glad you're here, because this is clearly a terrible place to be, I'm just, you know. Glad to see a friendly face," she finished lamely. "And glad you're safe."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not safe," she said. "None of us are."

"I know," said Ginny. "I just talked to Tom — he's planning to — "

"I heard," Hermione said, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "I was listening. Sorry to eavesdrop on you like that, but I wasn't exactly expecting Tom to burst in when he did. And I definitely wasn't expecting him to start declaring his love like that. Ginny, don't you think you're taking this whole bad boy thing of yours a little far?"

Ginny sank numbly onto the bed. "He doesn't love me. You heard him. I just remind him of his mortality or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's what he says. The truth is, he practically slavers when he looks at you. Its' sick, it's disgusting — and we're going to use it to our advantage." She held out the bundle she was carrying to Ginny. "Put this on."

Ginny opened the bundle. It looked like a pile of fabric — swath after swath of glowing blue-green cloth. She held it up. Robes, with an ornate bodice of green and gold embroidery. "You want me to wear these?"

"No, I want you to bake them in a pie." Hermione shook her head irritably. "Yes, I want you to wear it. I need you to talk to Tom for me. The prettier you look, the more likely you'll melt his little black heart and he'll give you what you want."

"You want me to ask him to call off the ceremony," Ginny said. "He'll never do it, Hermione."

"No." Hermione shook her head slowly. "I don't want you to ask him to call it off. I want you to make absolutely sure it happens."

The reflection staring back at Ginny from the mirror was of someone she didn't know. The blue robes, thrown on over the white nightdress she'd been wearing, made her look solemn, regal — someone to be reckoned with.

She pulled back her wildly curling hair with a ribbon, and turned to face Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "You look great."

"Thanks," Ginny said woodenly.

Hermione smiled, showing her dimples. "Rhysenn said the dress was enchanted: it's got an Impresarius charm woven into the fabric.

Apparently the Malfoys wear them when they want to look more impressive and sway other people's opinions more easily. What do you think?"

Ginny squinted. "Rhysenn? You got this dress from her?"

Hermione nodded.

Ginny shook her head. "Are you starkers? You can't trust her. And you're acting awfully strange."

Hermione sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." She sat down on the bed, running her fingers through her unruly mop of hair. "I'm a little hysterical, I guess. I had this whole plan, and, well — " She broke off, squeezing her eyes shut. "We only have one chance, Ginny. One chance to stop all of this.

And I thought I'd be doing it with Harry here, but he's not, and I'm so worried about him I could die, and Draco, too. I thought I'd have them with me, but I don't — I'm totally alone, and I'm so frightened."

"You're not," Ginny said. "Alone, I mean."

Hermione opened her eyes. She looked at Ginny again, and this time seemed to really see her, not just the culmination of a plan wrapped in expensive fabric. "I know," she said, her voice softening. "Thanks for being so brave. Do you want to go over it again?"

"No," Ginny said slowly. Did she really have the kind of power over Tom that Hermione seemed to think she did? She doubted it, somehow. "No, I understand the plan. I know what you want me to say."

Hermione nodded. "Good." She looked exhausted, her pale face marked with dark lines under her eyes, her cheek smudged with bruises. "You must tell no one that I'm alive or that you've seen me, Ginny. Not Draco, not Harry, not anyone. Understand? Promise me, please."

"I understand," Ginny said gently.

Hermione smiled weakly. "I know you do. I trust you." She stood up, swirling the cloak around her shoulders, and vanished. "I'll guess I'll go take care of my end of things," said her voice, coming from somewhere to Ginny's left.

Ginny sank down on the bed in a rustle of rainbow silk. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck."

"There's no door. Why didn't you tell me there wasn't a door?"

"There used to be a door." Draco sounded as tired and exasperated as Harry felt. "I mean, if there wasn't one, it's certainly slipped my mind how we got in and out of the bloody place." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Maybe we should take another circuit of the walls."

"We've already walked around the place three times," Harry replied, chancing another peek round the boulder they'd chosen to hide behind while a troop of guards passed. The guards were gone, but there was still no door, no entry into the castle at all. It seemed a ridiculous situation to be in, but there it was. "We're going to have to think of something else.