Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"Well," said Sirius, feeling lightheaded. "I think we can rule out suicide."

"Not necessarily," said Snape, who hadn't so much as changed expression since they'd entered the cell.

"What, you think he got so depressed that he hacked himself into pieces?"

"Not exactly," said Snape coldly. He pointed towards one of the walls with his wand. "Have you looked at those?"

"Bloodstains," said Sirius. "So what?"

"I suppose it was optimistic of me to expect you to notice anything, Black. Look at the bloodstains. They look like — "

"Writing," said Sirius, twigging at last. He squinted at the wall.

"Look, it continues on down to the floor."

"It appears to be some kind of runic language," said Snape, who had taken out the notepad and the Quote-Quill and seemed to be copying down the writing. "They look like fire-letters," he muttered to himself. "The aftermath of a Summoning Spell, perhaps — I wonder what it was he was trying to summon? It's too bad this is so difficult to read-"

"Yes, if only he'd been a bit more careful while scrawling his dying message in his own blood."

"Don't try to be funny, Black. You're not amusing."

"I was trying to keep myself from being sick," said Sirius. "You're probably used to this sort of carnage from your days as a fun-loving Death Eater, but I-" he paused, suddenly, and looked at Snape. "You are, aren't you?" he said.

"I am what?"

"Used to this. You know what it is."

Snape looked at him with hooded eyes. "I do recall the Dark Lord visiting a rather impressive punishment upon those who disobeyed him," he said. "The Irruptus Curse. It — "

"Blows people apart," said Sirius, hollowly.

"Quite."

"And it's difficult to perform?"

"Very."

"Anything else to say on that topic?"

"Not really, no."

"Doesn't it just make you sick?"

Snape glanced up at him. "Excuse me?"

"To remember what you were," said Sirius harshly, and was gratified to see Snape's expression tighten. "I know Dumbledore's told me you turned away from the Dark Lord, at great risk to yourself. He seems to put great stock in you. But I'll tell you, the rest of us don't.

Without him to speak for you, who in the magical community is going to be able to summon up that much trust in a failed Death Eater who couldn't even keep faith with the Dark Lord?"

"Better a failed Death Eater," Snape said, "than a failed Secret-Keeper."

Sirius felt his stomach lurch and felt a sudden urge to hit Snape. He suppressed it. "You're just as much a murderer as I am," he said, his voice gritty.

Snape snapped his notebook shut. It and his quill disappeared into the sleeves of his robe as he walked towards the door, brushing by Sirius, who didn't move. At the door Snape turned and looked at him, his beetle-black eyes full of hate and something else as well.

"We are all guilty," he said. "We are all complicit."

He went out, and the door shut behind him.

Sirius, feeling sick and very nearly dizzy, passed the back of his hand across his eyes and swore softly. Did I lose that argument? he wondered. Was that even an argument? He heard Snape's voice in his head again, failed Secret-Keeper, it said. He pushed back thoughts of James and Lily, because that way was darkness, that way was the Pit and headaches that lasted for hours and hours. Already the coppery smell of blood was making him nauseated. He took a step backwards, and felt his foot come down on something that squished unpleasantly. Dear God, he thought to himself, glancing down — is that a finger?

Sirius fled.

Ginny stared gloomily into the fire that leapt and sparkled in the grating. Even though it was June, it tended to be so cold in Malfoy Manor that the warmth of the fire was far from unwelcome. Ron, sitting next to her with his arms crossed over his chest, was looking both thoughtful and slightly irritated.

"What do you think they're talking about?" he said.

Ginny knew immediately who he meant: their parents, who had retreated with Narcissa to another room for grown-up talk. Ron was more irritated about being left out of this conversation that Ginny was. Ginny had a cold fist of dread in her stomach that even the warmth of the fire didn't seem to be able to dispell. She kept seeing Draco in her mind's eye, standing in the garden, that terrible look of anguish on his face. He didn't want to go. Why did he go?

"I said," Ron repeated irritably, "what do you think they're talking about in there?"

Ginny looked at her brother blankly, still seeing Draco's face in her mind. "What?"

Ron shook his head. "I said I'm really enjoying it here on Earth.

What's it like where you are?"

Ginny's felt her lip tremble. "I'm so worried, Ron," she said. "I think he's in real danger."

Ron looked blank. "What, Harry?" he asked, sounding ever so slightly irritable. "The only danger Harry's in is of suffocating to death from having Hermione attached to his face."

"Not Harry. Draco. I think he's in danger."

Ron looked as if he were fighting the urge to say "So what?"

"Don't say 'So what?'" added Ginny, darkly.

"I wasn't going to," lied Ron. "Look, Malfoy's got Sirius and Narcissa to look out for him. I'm sure they'll put all the resources of money and the Malfoy name and their Ministry connections into finding him."

"They won't find him. Not if he doesn't want to be found."

"Stop being cryptic. It's annoying. What do you care what happens to Malfoy, anyway?"

"Because-" began Ginny, and broke off.

Ron stared at her, his blue eyes suddenly widening. "Ginny," he said. "you're not. With Malfoy? What did I tell you-"

Ginny gave him a stubborn look. "It's none of your business, is it?"

Ron looked exasperated. "What is it with you and emotionally unavailable guys? First Harry, and that was bad enough. Now Malfoy, who is not just in love with somebody else, but is also moral garbage on legs. I suppose the best that can be said about him as a romantic prospect is that at least he isn't gay." Ron's eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. "That we know of," he added. "He does seem awfully fond of Harry."

Ginny made a growling noise. "You," she said coldly, "are the only one of us who still hates him."

"Of us? Who is us?"

"Well, Hermione-"

"Hermione's under a spell," said Ron, firmly.

"Harry likes him."

"Harry told me he doesn't consider Malfoy a friend," said Ron, which was true enough.

Ginny was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Sirius," she said triumphantly. "Sirius likes him."

Ron looked solemn. "Sirius did a lot of drugs when he was our age."

"Ron!"

Ron grinned. "Okay, maybe not. But he definitely had a wild side, maybe that makes him identify with Malfoy. Dad did tell me that Sirius went to his Hogwarts graduation wearing nothing but a pair of orange-tinted swimming goggles and some leather motorcycle gloves."

Ginny was momentarily diverted from the topic of Draco. "Is that true?"

"I dunno, Harry and I went to try to check the old graduation pictures in the library, but that year is missing. I bet some girl stole it."

"Well, he still likes Draco," said Ginny firmly. "So there you go."

"Ginny," said Ron equally firmly. "You can do better than Malfoy.

Okay?"

At which point Ginny did something she hadn't done in years, and, quite unprovoked, brought her foot down hard on Ron's toe.

"Yeow!" he yelled, jumping away and giving her an injured look.

"What'd you do that for?"

"Can't you let him alone for just one second?" Ginny said, almost tearfully. "Can't you just think of one good thing about him?"

"Sure," said Ron. "Someday, he'll be dead." Seeing Ginny's furious expression, he sighed, reached out and took her hand. "Look, Ginny.