Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

The werewolf chortled. "I like the way you think," he said. "How´d you like to be an admiral, or possibly a baron? You can help me whip these pups into shape. Plan strategy. What do you think?"

"I think 'admiralís a naval term, and I´m not prepared to be a baron either. But I´ll be a general."

He thrust out his hand towards the werewolf, not sure if that was proper etiquette but willing to risk it. After a moment, the other took his hand, and shook it. "General Lupin," he said. "Welcome to the war."

Draco stood staring at the door to the bedroom, imagining Ginny and Fleur inside, waiting for him, sitting on the bed. They would ask him "What did he want? What happened?" and he´d have to tell them about Sirius and Fleur probably wouldn´t care, but Ginny…Ginny would hate him even more than she did already.

He sighed and rested his head for a moment on the cool closed wood of the door. I put my father behind bars. Maybe not directly, but I let it happen. Now I´ve put my stepfather in prison, and I did it with my own hand. I meant well. But does that really matter? He heard his own voice, talking to Slytherin. You can´t do good with powers that come from Hell.

You can´t do good.

He pushed the door open, and walked in. He saw Fleur, sitting on the edge of the bed, and his eyes immediately flicked around the room, searching for a sign of flame-red hair, a flash of green dress.

Nothing. She was gone.

He whirled on Fleur. "Where is she? Where did she go?"

"She didn´t say." Fleur shook her head. "She just left. She even left the Invisibility Cloak 'ere for you. I´d imagine she went back to

'Arry and the others. She probably didn´t want to see you, after the way you behaved."

"The way I behaved? Oh thatś rich. Bloody buggering Hell." Draco threw himself down in a chair, glaring at her.

"Itś not very nice to go around kissing people if you don´t mean it," said Fleur primly.

Draco made a strangled noise. "Look whoś talking."

Fleur looked martyred. "Men," she said.

Draco ignored this. "Itś damn annoying," he said. "especially since I was hoping she´d come back with me."

"Where?"

"I´ve got to go talk to Harry." He started to get to his feet. "And I should do it as soon as possible."

"But the Snake Lord — "

"What he doesn´t know, won´t hurt him."

Fleur shook her head, looking at him. "I do not understand it," she said. "Don´t you feel the pain?"

"I feel the pain of having a hangover, if thatś what you mean."

Fleur sat up straighter, her shoulder set, and reached down to pull up the sleeve of her nightgown, baring her arm. Draco briefly glimpsed the disfiguring scar of the Dark Mark burned into her creamy skin before she pulled the sleeve back down. "That does not

'urt you?"

"It hurt me when he burned it into my arm. But it seems to have healed. I don´t like it. It doesn´t hurt, though."

"Well, it should," she said. "I feel it twinge every time I speak his name. Were I to act against him, as you do, the pain would be blinding. I don´t understand how you do it."

"Maybe itś because you´re his Source."

She shook her head. "The Mark connects us to 'im, as the Dark Creatures he commands are connected to 'im by the Call. It makes no sense. With the enchantments you have on you, and the added bond of the Dark Mark, there should be no way on earth you should be able to resist. In any way. It makes no sense at all. It should be impossible. 'E knows that. I know that."

"Could be the Will-Strengthening potion," said Draco, a little absently — but he knew it wasn´t, he remembered the feeling of the potion draining away as he stood with Harry in front of the adamantine door, and then -

Fleur looked at him doubtfully. "I don´t think you believe that."

"It doesn´t matter what I believe," he said quickly, grabbing up the Cloak where Ginny had left it at the foot of the bed. "We don´t have time for a big ontological study of whatś going on with me. I´ve got to get to Harry and the others."

"Whatś happing to — "

"No," he said, sharply, and saw her flinch. "You´ll forgive me," he added, a little acidly, "if I don´t tell you all my plans in detail quite yet. You´re not exactly back on my good side."

He was at the door when Fleur spoke again.

"Be safe," she said.

He looked back at her, nodded, and went out.

"Two hours," said Ron.

It was the first thing he had said almost since they had realized Ginny was gone. He had come back to sit with Harry and Hermione at least; they sat in a line against the wall, Harry in the middle, with Hermione on one said and Ron on the other, all their shoulders touching. She could sense that Harry was happy to have Ron back with them, even if he was subdued and quiet. Harry was always a slightly different person when Ron was there, and certainly a happier one; Ronś presence allowed him to make a certain kind of peace with the world around him that nothing else quite seemed to provide.

"She´ll be back," said Harry, his chains rattling as he touched Ronś shoulder. "Look, itś not your fault."

"Of course it isn´t. Itś Malfoyś fault."

"Thatś the spirit," said Harry, with a half-smile.

Ron just shook his head, leaning it back against the wall. As he did so, Hermione noticed something peculiar. She leaned forward, blinking, and then reached across Harry to touch Ron on the shoulder. He looked over at her, and she saw it again — there was a mark on the side of his temple, just above and to the side of his eyebrow, a faint, silvery mark just where Rowena had kissed him. It looked almost like the scar of a years-healed burn, only she knew that Ron hadn´t had such a mark that morning. "Ron," she said slowly. "You don´t — you can´t — sense anything about where she might be, can you?"

Ron looked at her as if she were barking mad. "I can´t what?"

"Rowena said you were a Diviner," said Hermione. "I thought maybe you could divine something."

"Well, I bloody can´t," said Ron peevishly. "I can´t just perform on demand. I can´t perform at all, as a matter of fact. Wait, that didn´t come out right." He rubbed the back of his hand across his tired eyes. "I just mean, I´ve never divined anything, I don´t really feature myself starting right now."

Hermione sighed. "Never mind."

Ron perked up briefly. "Unless I was divining some horrible torture for Malfoy. That I could do."

"Oh, Ron." Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "I for one wish he was here. He could explain whatś going on."

"Right, because he did such a good job of explaining when he was here earlier," said Harry, although he said it without rancor.

"I wish he´d just bloody show up too," said Ron, bitterly. "So I could punch in his face."

The black opening in the wall swung open, and Draco came in.

There was a short silence.

"And now I wish I had a million galleons," said Ron, and glanced around hopefully.

Hermione looked at him.

"Just checking," he said.

She turned her attention back to Draco, who was walking rapidly across the room towards them. Ginny was not with him. He was carrying his sword, unsheathed, in his hands, and his expression was so extraordinarily bleak that it nearly stopped her heart. Before she could formulate much of a thought, quick as lightning, Ron had gotten to his feet and stepped sideways to put himself between Draco and Harry.

Draco stopped dead, and stared at him. "What are you doing, Weasley?"

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. He didn´t need to raise his chin

— he already towered over Draco — but he did anyway. "Don´t come any closer," he said.

"Move out of the way," said Draco.

Ron shook his head.