Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

He shook his head. "No, but…" He trailed off. "I wish I could see."

She knelt down next to him. "I can fix your eyes, Harry. Do you want me to?"

For a moment he was silent, biting his lip. Then, reluctantly, he said, "I guess you'd better."

She knew why Harry had never let her or anyone else fix his eyesight with magic before: his glasses had become something of a trademark Harry Potter symbol, whether he liked it or not, and if he'd ever gotten rid of them Witch Weekly would have had a field day. They'd already done stories on how he cut his hair (in the bathroom, by himself, with nail scissors) and where he got his clothes ("I just let Hagrid pick them out for me.") If he got rid of his glasses, it would have meant headlines like HARRY POTTER TOO VAIN FOR GLASSES; IS THE BOY WHO LIVED GETTING A BIG HEAD? and Harry hated that sort of thing.

"It'll just be temporary," she said gently. "A Correctivity Charm. Until we get your glasses."

"It's all right," he said, and closed his eyes.

Hermione took her wand out and touched the tip of it gently to each of his eyelids. Then she leaned forward and put her fingers against his temples. "Stay still," she advised, and he took hold of her wrists to steady himself. "Oculus," she said.

Harry jumped as if he'd been stung, and opened his eyes. Then a reluctant grin spread over his face. "Hey," he said. "Thanks, Hermione."

It was only about fifteen minutes, but to Draco it seemed like several hours before Voldemort was finished with him. He'd managed to detach himself, and heard his own voice speaking as if from a long distance away, telling his father and the Dark Lord everything — from the first moment he had taken on Harry's appearance to his belief that Harry was now in the dungeons, rescuing Sirius.

Eventually, when he had no more to tell, the Dark Lord took the Veritas curse off him. The relief was intense, but so was the sickening feeling of guilt.

"So," he heard his father saying, "Perhaps we should seek the Potter boy in the chambers under the house, Master?"

"No need," said Voldemort, looking pleased. "We must only wait. Harry Potter will come to us. He will come for your son."

Lucius Malfoy looked doubtful. "But my Lord…they are not even friends, Draco said as much…"

Voldemort shook his head. "I know Harry Potter," he said. "He is just like his father. He will come for your son, Lucius. I guarantee it."

When they came up into the drawing room, Sirius was waiting for them in his canine form. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius shook his head quickly and indicated that they should follow him. They padded after him down the hallways to Lucius' study, the door of which Sirius opened with a paw, and went in.

Narcissa was sitting behind Lucius' desk, just as she had been when Sirius had found her there, only her head was on her arms and she was crying.

Sirius turned back into a man so quickly that there was an audible *pop as he did so. He indicated Narcissa with a jerk of his chin. "I had to tell her everything," he said to Harry and Hermione in an undertone. "She's really upset." He glanced at Harry. "Turned back, have you? I thought you might've."

Harry looked surprised. "Why'd you think that?"

Sirius toed the ground, looking deeply unhappy. "Voldemort's already come," he said, looking anxiously at Hermione as he did so. "He went to find Harry…" Sirius sighed. "Well, I mean, he would have known right away that Draco wasn't you, wouldn't he? He probably took the spell off."

Hermione looked shocked and worried; Harry, however, showed no surprise, only resignation. "I thought that might have happened," he said quietly. "My scar's been hurting now for about an hour."

Hermione was furious. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

Harry shot her an irritable look, and she recalled that an hour ago, she and Harry had been kissing in the dungeons, after which she had told him off with great vehemence. It probably hadn't seemed to him like the right time to mention that his scar hurt. "Oh," she said, going red. "Sorry."

Harry turned back to Sirius. "Do you think Draco's all right?" He shot an anxious glance at Narcissa and dropped his voice. "Do you think he's alive?"

Sirius shrugged. "Don't know. The Dark Lord might have killed him in a fit of rage. Then again, Draco is the son of his closest and most powerful Death Eater. If Draco can convince them that he was acting under the influence of the Polyjuice spell…if he gives the Dark Lord information about you…"

"He wouldn't do that," Hermione interjected sharply.

"Maybe not," said Sirius cautiously. But neither Sirius nor Harry would look at her.

"Is Narcissa going to be all right?" Harry asked finally, breaking the silence.

"I hope so," said Sirius guardedly. "Lucius…" He said the name with immense hatred. "Lucius has had her under all sorts of spells and charms for so long — Coercion Charms, the Imperius Curse sometimes, she's forbidden to have a wand, forbidden to lie to him, forbidden by pain of death even to speak Lucius' full name in case she uses it in an spell."

Hermione shook her head. "Wouldn't it just have been easier for Lucius to marry someone who actually liked him?" she wondered aloud.

"Men like Lucius don't do things because they are easy," said Sirius bitterly. "They do them because they want to show how powerful they are. Lucius wanted to marry the most beautiful girl in school. And he did."

"He should be in Azkaban," said Hermione angrily.

"And we should be rescuing Draco," said Harry.

Hermione shuddered.

"I'm going to have to go face him," said Harry, looking grim.

"And do what, Harry?"

"I'll trade," said Harry, "I'll trade myself for Draco."

"Oh, yeah," said Hemrione angrily, "because Voldemort is so known for keeping his word."

"I think what Hermione means," said Sirius, "is that he'll just kill you anyway. In fact, I'm sure he's expecting you to do just what you suggested."

"Well, we can't leave him to Lucius and Voldemort," protested Harry. " And the Death Eaters."

"The Death Eaters are not with them," said a faint voice. It was Narcissa, now sitting up and wiping at her eyes. "They're in the downstairs ballroom, trying to get the Lacertus Curse prepared."

Sirius went over and sat down next to Narcissa and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, "He'll be fine." But he didn't sound particularly convinced of this.

Harry looked over at Hermione for help, but she was looking extremely thoughtful. She walked over to the opposite side of the room and took down a fat green book from a shelf — Epicyclical Elaborations of Sorcery.

Sirius turned around and looked at her. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"Shush," said Harry, and put his finger to his lips. "Let her."

Hermione began flipping quickly through the pages. "I just thought….maybe…if we could make it work…. It would be…"

Sirius looked confused. Even Narcissa looked confused. But Harry just stood and watched her reading and tried to be quiet. Finally she put the book down and turned to Sirius. "I have an idea," she said.

Sirius looked doubtful.

"This is a good thing," Harry reassured him. " Hermione has great ideas."

"But I'll need your help, Narcissa," Hermione added.

Now even Harry looked doubtful. But Narcissa straightened up in her chair. "What can I do?" she said.

Voldemort ordered Lucius to watch his son, then crossed the room and stood by the window, looking out. This effectively left Draco and his father alone together.

If Draco had expected Lucius to be apologetic about the horror that was being inflicted on his son, he was disappointed. He merely looked Draco up and down coldly, and said, "You have saddened me, boy."