Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

She touched the ribbon, smooth as the skin under it. "I thought you weren't the white knight dragon-killer sort," she said, trying for lightness but only sounding sad. And it was true: he didn't look much like he could kill a dragon, now, pale and thin and filthy with dirt, leaves caught in his cloak, marked and scarred by glass and bramble scratches. And still, he was the only boy she'd ever really loved. "I want you to know," she said, "I understand what you were trying to say before — about why you can't love me — and — "

"Fancy words," he said, and leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. He tasted of fever, cold salt, and determination, and a bitterness like tears.

When he pulled back, his beribboned wrist grazed her cheek. "Sorry," he said, half-smiling, "After Tom, perhaps you're a bit tired of being suddenly kissed — "

"Oh!" Ginny interrupted, suddenly realizing, "I was going to watch how Tom got out of the room, and I didn't see it. He just vanished. Damn it — "

"I was watching him," Draco said. "He went through the mirror. I was just waiting to make sure that we'd be clear when — " Suddenly, his hand tightened on her shoulder, his eyes unfocusing. He stepped back, away from her. "Harry's got past the outside guards somehow — he's found the front door. There are more guards there. He wants our help. Come on -

quickly." Seizing her wrist, he drew her after him through the mirror, which parted around them like water, and into the hallway beyond.

Ron, chained to his platform, saw the dark square of open sky above him turn from black to red in a single flare, bathing the Chamber in bloodlight.

The doors to the Chamber flew open, and a bevy of guards poured in, chattering to Lucius in their harsh foreign tongue. Lucius turned to the Dark Lord, puzzled and pale. "My Lord, the guards you stationed outside are dead. All dead."

"Then Potter will have found the front entrance," Voldemort said. "Send these fellows down to the entryway to capture him." Lucius stared, and the guards shifted uneasily. Voldemort laughed. "It won't be difficult, my cowardly ones. Potter can be easily enough swayed by… logic."

Ron stared up at the open roof above him, watching as the sky faded from scarlet to gray. He was lost in a memory of his own visions. I saw the sky on fire, he thought, and then, This Divining power is the worst of punishments — to know, and to be able to change nothing.

Sirius missed Buckbeak, who was a much better mount than this scabby thestral. Still, he had to admit that no hippogryph could fly as fast as the death-horses did. Without mortality to weight it down, the thestral skimmed across the sky like a loosed arrow. The added burden of Sirius and Remus seemed to slow it only a very little.

Remus was silent. Sirius watched the landscape sweep by and tried not to worry. They had passed over cities, then farmland, gray and brown in the drained light of evening. Lakes and ponds with showed as patches of silver, some frosted with white at the edges. Now they were rising into a mountain range that jutted from the earth like a jaw full of broken teeth.

This was cold, unfriendly land and it wrung his heart to think of Harry wandering here, facing this last, bitter trial alone.

Remus saw it first. He cried out and tugged at Sirius's arm. Rising over the mountains, far to the east but far too early for sunrise, a tower of scarlet light flared in the sky. Too bright for fire, and too even, it rose like a pillar of blood, staining all the air around it a deep golden red.

"Harry," Remus said.

Sirius seized the horse's mane and dug his knees into its sides. "Let's see how fast this flea-bitten thing can go," he said, and the thestral shot forward, swifter than a Firebolt.

Ginny hurried after Draco, who seemed to know where he was going.

Hallways, some of stone and some of black and green marble, flashed past as they ran. Cries, and the sound of metal on metal, grew louder as they went. At last Draco drew to a stop at the top of a wide, curving stone staircase. He thrust a hand behind him, holding her back. "Wait," he said.

They were standing above the Great Hall of the fortress. White and black alternating marble steps arced down to a broad pavement and a set of enormous stone doors bound in brass. They stood open, showing the night sky. The Hall was a blur of chaotic movement. Ginny could make out at least six black-clad soldiers, wielding knives, axes, and daggers.

Harry stood on the bottom step, fending them off with a drawn sword.

The blade was stained with blood. Several dark masses huddled on the floor: some of Voldemort's guards had already fallen — wounded or dead, she couldn't tell.

Draco was staring down at Harry, and his hand dropped to rest on the hilt of his sword. She saw him smile a little, just with the corner of his mouth, and then Harry glanced up fast and gave a short nod before turning his attention back to skewering one of Voldemort's guards through the leg.

Draco drew Terminus Est from its scabbard and held it lightly for a moment, balancing its weight. The roses carved into the blade seemed to glimmer. He spoke to Ginny without taking his eyes from Harry: "You've never seen me fight before, have you?" he asked. His tone was even and conversational, but his gaze never left the figures moving below.

Ginny shook her head. "No — never."

Draco exhaled. "Well, brace yourself," he said. "You're going to want to sleep with me even more after this."

Ginny sputtered. "I would never — "

But he didn't get to find out what she would never do: he was already racing down the stairs, taking them recklessly fast; he passed Harry, leaped over the last steps, and flung himself into the thick of the crowd of guards. The sword in his hand flew around him, a blur of flashing light.

Ginny leaned forward as far as she could, the railing of the stone banister cold under her fiercely gripping hands. Surely he couldn't be that good -

but he was, she realized with an odd pang at her heart, this was clearly to Draco what Quidditch was to Harry. The sword seemed to dance in his hand, it both lived apart from him and with him, flashing out again and again among the tightly packed dark mass of bodies like the back of a silvery fish momentarily breaking through dark water.

In a few moments, the remainder of the guards lay strewn on the floor, dead or unconscious. Draco cleaned his sword on a dead man's cloak, sheathed it, and turned to Harry. "Good thing I showed up, Potter," he said, as Harry navigated through the bodies to his side. "Your technique was appalling."

Harry was shaking his head. He leaned closer to Draco and said something Ginny couldn't quite hear; he was pointing at the bodies on the floor.

Snapping out of her frozen state, she ran down the stairs, almost tripping over her long skirts, to join them among the sprawled bodies. The smell of blood in the air was heavy and electrifying.". . no wands?" Harry was asking.

"There are some fairly complex wards inside the fortress," Draco explained. "Besides, I doubt Voldemort lets them have wands."

"Ah," said Harry. "That explains why — " He glanced up, saw Ginny, and did a double-take. "You're here?"

"She follows me around," Draco said. "It's very embarrassing."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is Hermione here as well? Have you seen her?"

"She — " Ginny began, but froze at the heavy tramp of approaching feet.

"More guards!" she hissed, stumbling as she backed up, nearly tripping on a corpse. Fighting the urge to cry out, she gestured to Harry and Draco that they should flee for the stairs. The boys drew their swords and the small group fled across the room — and stopped short.

Beneath the arch of the open doors at the room's north end was Lucius Malfoy. Wormtail stood beside him, hunched and shuddering in his tattered wizarding robes. Rhysenn drifted behind him, pale as a ghost, and behind her, filling the doorway and the hall behind them, were ten of Voldemort's black-clad guards.