Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

'Not me. Never.´ Well, of course you haven´t. I don´t live in your head the way you live in mine. I don´t know why that happened, it just did. I haven´t changed you. You´ve changed me. And you´ve made my life intolerable-"

Shock sped across Harryś face, followed by rage; he was struggling to get to his feet, and had thrown himself forward so far that the chain that bound him was drawn out to its fullest extension.

Hermione could see the bands of metal cutting into his wrist. "Itś not my fault those things happened!" he shouted at Draco. "I never chose any of them! I can´t change what I am!"

"And neither can I!" Draco shouted back, and yanked his left sleeve up suddenly, extending his arm, showing it to Harry. He drew it back quickly, but not before Hermione saw, as Harry must have seen, the black brand of the Dark Mark seared into the skin of his forearm.

And Harry was silent. He leaned back, and the chain rattled as it struck the stones. He no longer looked angry, just stunned. "So thatś the way it is," he said, slowly.

"Thatś the way itś always been," said Draco flatly. "Really, we´re no different, you and I — we´re both what we were born to be. We´re just on opposite sides of the divide, thatś all. I´m sorry for it, Potter. And sorry for you."

He did sound sorry. Hermione felt her heart beating very slowly, as if her blood had thickened to the consistency of taffy. This isn´t happening.

"Bollocks to that," said Harry firmly. "Itś about choices, Malfoy. Itś your choice to make."

"I made my choice a long time ago," said Draco.

"Live with it, then," said Harry. "Since you value your life so much."

Draco got to his feet. "I intend to. Me living with it — thatś sort of the point."

Harry craned his head back and looked up at Draco, who slid his eyes away.

"At least tell me how I´m going to die," he said, quietly. "You owe me that much."

Draco looked at him for a long moment. His eyes were dark, nearly expressionless: they were only human eyes, the eyes of a boy, and yet they had death in them.

"When it comes," he said. "It will be quick."

And he walked back towards Slytherin.

"So thatś your bargain?" said the demon, looking narrowly at Narcissa. "You will send me back to Hell, in exchange for that information?"

"I know Slytherin will try to kill one of them. Either Harry, or my son. To keep from fulfilling the bargain he made with you. I want to know if thereś any way that can be prevented, that you can be forced to take him instead — "

"The powers of Hell cannot be forced." The demonś eyes spun in concentric circles of red and gold.

"How can the end of this bargain be accomplished? How is it consummated? Explain."

The demon shook its head. "Take the wards off the cell."

"Explain first."

The demon shook its head. "I am bound by the bargain we make, it is unbreakable for me. That is my nature. It is not your nature.

Humans are liars. Take the wards off the cell and speak the Banishing charm, and then I will tell you what you want to know."

"Swear first," she said. 'Swear that you won´t harm me when I release you. And swear that there is a way that Slytherin can be taken, instead of my son or Harry."

"I swear it," said the demon, and Narcissa stepped towards the bars of the cell, and, as Sirius had showed her, dismantled the wards.

That accomplished, she pointed her wand at the Demon and read off the piece of paper in her hand the words of the Banishing Charm. She was none too happy to be using a charm Lucius had used, especially not one that had (possibly) resulted in his messy death. But she didn´t see that she had much choice.

As she reached the end of the incantation, a bust of flame leaped up and circled the demon. It laughed, throwing back its head, reaching out its hands to the fire.

Narcissa threw down the parchment she was holding. "Now tell me!"

she shouted, over the crackling of the fire and the sound of the demonś laughter. "Tell me what I want to know!"

The demon stopped laughing, and looked straight at her. "In the original bargain, Slytherin promised us a Magid heir of his own blood, and that is what we will take. Unless the Snake Lord can be persuaded to offer up the sword to us willingly with his own hand, in which case we will take him instead."

"With his own hand?" Narcissa echoed faintly.

The demon nodded.

"But he´ll never do that!" she cried furiously, and flung herself towards the bars, but the fire had made them red-hot, and she jumped back. "He´ll never do that!"

"Really not my problem," the demon replied, and vanished with a wink in a burst of flame.

The black opening in the wall was just closing itself up after Slytherin and his entourage, when Hermione ducked out from under the invisibility cloak and dashed towards Harry, Ron at her heels.

Harry was sitting as he had when Draco had stood up: staring at his bleeding arm with a very, very strange expression. Hermione fell to her knees beside him. "Harry. Are you all right?"

He nodded. There was a distant look in his eyes, as if he had gone to some very dark place. She put her arm around his shoulders and gently stroked the back of his neck. He didn´t react.

"He was acting, Harry," she said. "He was just acting."

"I wouldn´t be so sure," said Ron.

She flipped her gaze irritably to him. "He was. Of course he was."

"Í´m Draco Malfoy, and this is my impression of a Completely Bonkers Psychopath,´" said Ron, in a rather squeaky imitation of Dracoś voice. "I don´t think so, Hermione. Come on, he was totally evil. Did you see his outfit?"

"His outfit? Ron, if you haven´t got anything useful to say — "

"All I´ve got to say, is that if he was acting, it was amazingly convincing."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Heś a good actor. We all know that about him."

"Heś a miserable little twonk, we know that about him too," pointed out Ron.

"He would never hurt Harry," said Hermione, her voice coming out on an angry hiss.

"He cut him, Hermione," said Ron, starting to look angry.

"He must have had to!" she snapped, turning back to Harry. "He was trying to tell you something, Harry, I could tell-"

"By stabbing him in the arm?" Ron shook his head. Some say it with flowers," he deadpanned, "Malfoy says it with knives."

Hermione tilted her chin up and looked at Ron squarely. "Do you still hate him so much?"

Ronś expression softened. "No. But Hermione — he might not have a choice. You know that, right? He could have been under the Imperius curse. Not everyone can fight that off like Harry. That sword might have finally gotten to him-"

"Ron," said Harry, speaking up for the first time.

"— Lupin said it was really powerful. Maybe Slytherin threatened him with something. Maybe he ran out of that Will-Strengthening Potion thing. Maybe-"

"RON," said Harry more firmly. "Where is your sister?"

Ron paused in mid-gesture, and turned to where he, Hermione and Ginny had been standing a few minutes before. "Ginny?" he said, edgily. "Come out from under the Cloak, will you?"

There was no answer.

"Ginny?" said Ron again, more faintly this time.

Nothing. Going very white, Ron leaned back against the wall as if his legs had given out.

"Oh my God," said Hermione, her hand going to her mouth. "She went after them. The door was still open — she went after Draco."

Ron slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor. "She wouldn´t have," he said numbly. "She couldn´t do something so stupid."

"If it had been Hermione," said Harry softly, "I´d go after her."

"But sheś not in love with Malfoy," said Ron blankly. "Is she?"

Hermione just looked at him.