Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

But there was nothing she could do. Draco had pulled the invisibility cloak off himself and was holding it his hand, quite visible, quite unprotected. All the Death Eaters had turned to stare at him in shock; an expression of triumph was spreading over Lucius Malfoy's face.

"Leave her alone," Draco said again, in an unsteady voice. He looked terrified — he was white as a ghost, and sweat had plastered his black hair to his forehead. But he seemed determined. "It's me. Harry Potter. I'm here."

References:

1) Epicyclical Elaborations of Sorcery: This is the title of a book in another book, more specifically Caroline Stevermeyer and Patricia Wrede's Sorcery and Cecelia, in which it is also a book of very dark magic. There is however no such thing in Sorcery and Cecelia as an Epicyclical Charm.

There was light, and it moved beyond the skin of his eyelids like darting points of fire. Harry groaned and opened his eyes.

He was in Draco's bedroom, lying spread-eagled on the bed — he couldn't have laid any other way, since each of his wrists was tied to a bedpost. His head ached with a dull, booming pain as if someone were striking a gong behind his temples.

"Hold still," said a voice.

Harry whipped his head to the side and stared. It was Narcissa. She was holding a large, bone-handled saw.

Harry shut his eyes again. I'm having a nightmare, he told himself. And it's a really dumb one.

He opened his eyes, but Narcissa was still there. She had applied the edge of the saw to the ropes that bound his left hand to the bed and was sawing away at them. She was very pale, and her eyes were twitching from side to side in that weird little tic Harry was beginning to get used to. He did wish she wouldn´t do it while holding a saw so close to his artery, though.

"Narcissa," he said. "I mean, Mum. What..?" His left arm came free, and he turned on his side to watch her slicing away at the ropes on his right.

"Your father," said Narcissa haltingly, "doesn't want you trying to get into the dungeons to get to your girlfriend." She held up a hand at the panicked expression that flashed across Harry's face. "She's fine. He put her in with Sirius Black." Her eyes twitched again. "Sirius will look after her."

His right arm came free. Harry sat up and started massaging the blood back into his hands. The last thing he remembered was being knocked to the floor by one of Lucius' Death Eaters. "They didn't hurt Hermione, did they?" he asked. "Because Lucius was about to…"

"Oh, he would have killed her," said Narcissa woodenly. "He did the Cruciatus Curse on her to try to get her to tell him where Harry Potter was. But she wouldn't."

Harry went from feeling numb to feeling like he was going to throw up. "What happened?"

"Your father," she said (he realized she never said Lucius' name, she had never, in his memory, said it once) "says that Harry Potter was there. Apparently he has an Invisibility Cloak of some sort. He revealed himself and," she showed no emotion as she said this, "the Death Eaters took him."

Harry struggled to sit up. He put his numb hands on top of Narcissa's hands, which were as cold as ice. She was still holding the knife. "Mum," he said. "Please believe me, this is really important. I know it's hard for you, but… is Harry still alive?"

She nodded.

"Where is he?"

"In the fencing room," she said. As she spoke, two huge tears slid out of her eyes and down her thin face. Harry felt horribly sorry for her, but his mind was on getting to Draco. He slid off the bed, tested his legs (they worked) and raced out the door. Narcissa watched him go.

In her dream, Hermione was in Diagon Alley. She was with Harry, and they were shopping for socks. This was a new one on Hermione — she had never dreamt about sock-shopping with Harry before. Harry made frequent appearances in her dreams, usually looking a lot better than he did in real life and sometimes wearing nothing but socks — but this dream didn't seem to be tending in that direction. This Harry was fully dressed and looking very serious.

They weren't getting far with their sock search. All the stores seemed to be boarded up, dark and empty. People on the street hurried past without looking at them, eyes on the ground. Hermione tried to take Harry's hand, but he shook his head.

"I've got to sit down," he said. "It hurts."

"What hurts?" she asked.

Harry drew his jacket open. She looked down and saw that the black handle of a ten-inch knife was protruding from between his ribs. His white t-shirt was turning red with blood and blood was pattering down onto his shoes like rain. "The knife," he said. "It's not mine, you know. It's Draco's."

Hermione screamed.

"Enervate," said a voice in her ear. "Come on, Hermione. Wake up!"

She opened her eyes and saw Sirius' face. What a horrible dream, she thought.

Normally she never voluntarily cut short a dream with Harry in it. But she was glad to be rid of that one.

"Sirius," she said in a croaky voice. "Hey."

His face split into a tired smile. "You're awake," he said. "That's good. Sorry about yelling at you. I don't have my wand, so I had to do the best I could."

Hermione began to raise herself up on her elbows. Every part of her body hurt as if she had been beaten. She looked around. She was in a dank rock-bound cell with one barred wall. A stone bench ran along the opposite wall. She seemed to be alone with Sirius.

"Oh my God," she said, sitting straight up and grabbing Sirius' arm. "Harry. And Draco! Where are they?"

"I don't know," said Sirius, looking very sober. "I was hoping you could tell me that."

She shook her head wildly.

"A group of Death Eaters brought you down here," he said reluctantly. "Harry and Draco weren't with them. They tossed you in with me and left." He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Do you remember what happened, Hermione?"

Hermione felt herself teetering on the edge of panicky tears. "It was horrible," she said. "The Death Eaters took Draco. They think he's Harry. And Harry…" The tears threatened to spill over, but she forced herself to speak slowly, filling Sirius in on the whole evening's events. "And then Draco took off the invisibility cloak and they sort of…closed in around him. I didn't see what happened after that, I didn't see what happened to Harry or to Draco. I think Lucius hit me with the Stupefying Hex." Now the tears did spill. "Draco could be dead, Sirius."

"They won't kill him," said Sirius. "They think he's Harry; they're going to put that Lacertus curse on him. And for that, they need Voldemort. So we have a little time."

"How much time does it take to summon Voldemort?" asked Hermione wildly.

"How long does it take him to get here?"

"Well…." said Sirius reluctantly. "It's not like he takes the bus, Hermione.

Voldemort can probably Apparate here instantly. But," he added, "if I know Lucius, he'll want to have everything prepared and perfect beforehand — no nasty surprises for the Dark Lord when he gets here."

"I hate Lucius," said Hermione vehemently. "He's a freakish, evil, jewelry-wearing pervert who doesn't even care about his own son."

"He's a lot more than that," said Sirius, with a half smile. "He's-" He broke off and looked at her thoughtfully.

"What?" said Hermione.

"What did you say about Lucius wearing jewelry?"

"He has this really ugly pendant he wears," said Hermione. "He seems very attached to it. He kept putting his hand on it when he was…you know…trying to have it off with me in the study." She blushed furiously.

"Describe it," said Sirius.

Hermione described it: a gold chain with a clear glass charm pendant, in which an object was suspended, an object that looked a little like a human tooth. When she got to the part about the tooth, Sirius jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth across the cell.