Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"I was thinking of a lock of hair," said Draco, "and I´d like to see you try it, Weasley."

"Ahem," said Harry. "Do we have what we need for the spell?"

"Not everything," Draco hedged. "Not yet. We need some mugwort, some wolfsbane, and an Orb of Thessala."

"A what of what?" said Ginny.

"An Orb of Thessala," said Draco. "Itś used in Transfiguration and Transformation spells. It has to do with soul transference. Itś not hard to use, just hard to come by. I assume my dad must have had one, but I´ve no idea where he might have kept it."

"So where are we going to get one?" said Harry. "Is this the sort of thing you can just buy in Diagon Alley?"

"Actually, no," said Draco. "But itś just the sort of thing our Transformations teacher would have in his office."

"Lupin," said Harry. "He´d never let us borrow something like that."

"True," Draco agreed. "Which is why we´re going to have to break in and take it. We have to go back to school anyway, and while we're there — "

Harry blinked. "We have to go back to school?"

"Of course," said Draco, as if this should be obvious. "We have to get my sword."

Harry pushed his chair back from the table with a screech. "No way," he said flatly. "We are not bringing that thing with us."

Draco's gray eyes spat angry sparks. "Why not?"

"Because," said Harry, as if this should be obvious. "It's evil. It's an evil thing and I don't want it near me."

"It's a very powerful weapon," said Draco. "It has powers we can't even imagine."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Because they're really, really horrible."

"You don't know that," said Draco firmly. "Even Lupin doesn't know that. He said he had to finish testing it. It's a Magid blade," Draco added, "and I'm a Magid and it belonged to my ancestors, it's been in my family for generations, and I want it."

Harry suddenly heard Hermione's voice in his head, remembering something she had said to him two weeks ago-was it only two weeks? Didn't Dumbledore tell you that people want what's worst for them?

Yes, Harry had replied. But not everyone.

"Malfoy…" he began. But Draco had stood up from the table and was glaring at all of them, flushed with anger. "Look," he said. "I don't know what we're up against, and neither do you. But if what we've seen so far is any indication, we're dealing with some serious, serious Dark magic. This sword is a gift, Potter. It can kill anything.

The Dark Lord himself could be destroyed by it. Lupin as much as said so."

Now Harry looked angry. "Don't you remember the book?" he snapped. "You can bear that sword, but at a price."

"I'm a Malfoy," said Draco. "We don't ask about prices." He grinned without much mirth. "I can afford it."

"I don't think you can," said Harry.

Ginny looked from one of them to the other. Draco and Harry were staring at each other, Draco with fiery red spots of anger on his cheeks and Harry very pale.

"What if you're not the one who pays the price, Malfoy?" said Harry in a deadly voice. "What if it turns out to be someone else? What if it turns out to be — " He almost said "Hermione," but he didn't want to be like Draco, didn't want to invoke Hermione's name as a whip to beat his opponent with. "-me?" he finished.

Draco's eyes were glittering. "I'll take that chance," he said.

This time it was Ron who spoke. "You're a bastard, Malfoy," he said flatly.

Draco didn't look at him, was still looking only at Harry. " What if she's in danger and the sword's our only chance to get to her?" he said. "Are you willing to take the risk that something might happen to her that we could have prevented if you hadn't been so squeamish?"

Harryś hands were gripping the table tightly, and when he spoke it was with an effort. "Squeamish," he echoed bleakly. "I hope you remember telling me this somewhere down the line when you´ve gotten one of us killed."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Draco said, without looking at Harry, "If you don´t trust me, maybe you want to go on without me," and there was something about the way he said it that was both wistful and angry at the same time. Ginny doubted he knew he sounded wistful at all; if he had, he probably wouldn´t have said anything.

"I don't trust you, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. "But I don't want to go without you either."

Draco's shoulders collapsed a little with relief.

Harry looked down at his scarred hand, then back up at Draco. "If what we did to Krum is any indication, the powers we have together are much more than what have alone. Maybe you're right about using every means at hand."

"I am right," said Draco, but he looked relieved all the same. The atmosphere of tension was fading as rapidly as it had appeared.

"You'll see," he said to Harry. "We're going to go back to school and get that sword, and then we're going to go after Hermione."

He straightened up, and spoke with cold determination. "I don't care what I have to do; I don´t care if it's the Dark Lord himself who's got her — if he's done anything to hurt her, anything at all, I'll grind him up into a powder so fine we can use it for instant soup mix."

Draco paused. Harry, Ginny and Ron were all staring at him with peculiar expressions.

"Okay," he said. "That was just kind of gross, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Soup just isn't that scary, Malfoy."

"Other than that, it was a good speech," interjected Ginny encouragingly.

"I still think I'm right about this," said Draco, although a great deal of the fierceness had gone out of his expression.

"And I still think you're mad," said Harry. "And maybe evil. But you're obviously very determined, and I kind of admire that." He smiled. The first time he had smiled all day. "It suits you, Malfoy."

"It does," agreed Ginny, rather unexpectedly. "But that sweater definitely does not."

"Look, Ron," said Ginny, with a grin. "Essence of Malfoy. Itś magenta."

She poked the potion simmering in the cauldron with her wand, and glanced around at Ron. He was sitting on the end of Harryś bed, not-very-industriously crushing beetle shells for the potion with a mortar and pestle and trying not to yawn. They had gone straight from breakfast to their broomsticks, and had arrived at Harry and Dracoś school while it was still fairly early in the morning. All four of their broomsticks were now propped against the wall next to Harryś bed.

Draco and Harry themselves, taking Harryś fatherś invisibility cloak just in case, had already crept off downstairs to raid Lupinś office. Ginny had wanted to ask what they were going to do if Lupin turned out to be in his office, then changed her mind. That, she figured, was their lookout. Potion-making, however, was her lookout.

She had always been good at it at school, and this one was surprisingly simple.

The difficult part would come later, since the Epicyclical process was a moderately complex combination of a Potion, a Charm, and a Transfiguration spell. At the moment, the potion, which was the first step, was missing several key ingredients, although had some of Dracoś blood in it, and the Charm would eventually be made with his hair. (He had given her a lock of it for the purpose, so fine and silvery that it hardly looked like human hair at all.)

"Thatś not magenta," said Ron, looking up with another huge yawn. "Thatś fuchsia. And quite horrible-looking it is."

"Ron, you have to crush the beetles, not just swat at them," scolded Ginny.

"I can´t be arsed," said Ron glumly. "I can´t help feeling like this is all for Malfoyś benefit. And I still hate his guts, whatever Harry says."

Ginny sighed. "Itś for Hermioneś benefit, Ron," she said. "Why don´t you give me a turn with the beetle-smashing and you can stir the potion? You look done in, anyway."