Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

Despite himself, Draco was almost impressed with his father's total lack of remorse. It was breathtaking. "Maybe you should ground me," he suggested.

Lucius frowned. "And your flip sense of humor is not helping your case," he said.

"If you behave in a properly remorseful manner, the Dark Lord may forgive you.

He had high hopes for you at one point, Draco. He can be merciful. And if you were truly acting under the influence of this Polyjuice spell…"

Draco shook his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you again, Father," he said. "No desire to join up with the Dark Lord here. I'm afraid I can't see what you see in him. Not the most stable guy. Not the handsomest bloke, either," he added, as an afterthought.

"I don't know what you hope to accomplish by defying me, Draco," said Lucius, sounding as aggrieved as an ordinary parent discovering that his teenage son has borrowed the car and plowed it into a snow bank.

"If you don't know that, Father," said Draco coldly, "than I'm not going to explain."

"And if you don't stop defying me," said Lucius even more coldly, "I won't be your father any more."

After that they sat in silence.

Harry, Hermione and Sirius sat nervously in the study, not looking at each other.

Narcissa had been gone five minutes. When the door finally opened and Narcissa came back into the room, carrying a large bundled object, Sirius was so pleased that he turned back into a dog, then back into a man, then into a dog again in quick succession.

"Hang on there, Sirius," said Harry, although he was obviously relieved as well.

"Too much excitement, not good for you."

Narcissa put the bundle down on the desk and stepped back as Harry, Hermione and Sirius (back to human form again) crowded around. "I told them I was taking it to Lucius," she said, sounding almost pleased. "The more I resist, the easier it gets," she went on. "I feel like I could almost say his name now."

Harry, Hermione and Sirius stepped back quickly.

"But I won't," she added.

Hermione scooted back to the desk and unwrapped the bundle, then sucked in her breath. A huge metal arm lay outstretched in front of her, grim and ugly and horrible. Each of its seven metal fingers ended in vicious blades and there were grotesque Dark-magic carvings all up and down its hollow metal body. Despite being hollow all through the inside, it looked extremely solid and heavy.

Harry was staring at it, revolted. "Is that the Lacertus arm?"

"It's horrible, isn't it?" said Hermione, nodding.

"Itś a good thing he's not going to wind up using that thing it on Draco after all," said Harry. "There's no way you could get Draco to wear something that looked like that. Well," he added, with the ghost of a grin, "maybe if you told him it was Armani."

"Oh, shut up Harry," said Hermione absently. "We only have a couple minutes with this thing before Narcissa has to take it to You-Know-Who. Let me work on it."

While Hermione worked, Sirius drew Narcissa into the corner of the room. "You've done very well, very well," he told her. "We know it's hard for you-" "I'm doing this for Draco," she said, a little sharply.

"I know," said Sirius.

"And when this is all over," said Narcissa, "you know I'll have to stay here, don't you? I don't dare leave. Not while Draco's father has that pendant."

"But won't Lucius already think-" Narcissa shook her head. "He'll never think I've acted against him, not by my own will, not after seventeen years. But if I left with you-" Sirius looked unhappy. "I understand."

Narcissa smiled. It was the first time he had seen her smile in eighteen years. It reminded him of his childhood. "It'll be all right, Sirius," she said.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe."

If he hadn't hurt so much all over his body, Draco might well have fallen asleep where he lay, on the ground in the fencing room. He was exhausted. He hardly even heard the door open as Narcissa came into the room.

She went up to Lucius. "They wanted me to bring you this," she said, and unceremoniously handed him the Lacertus arm.

Lucius looked astonished. "What-why?"

"Harry Potter is in the house," said Narcissa, with perfect truth. "He is coming up here now."

This woke Draco up. He bolted upright and stared at his mother, who didn't look back at him. Something odd was going on, he was fairly sure of that. It didn't seem likely to him that the Death Eaters would have asked Narcissa to bring such a powerful and important magical object up to Lucius without them. Not unless they had a reason she wasn't stating.

Lucius was obviously suspicious as well, but didn't want to say anything in front of Voldemort. He had already shown once today that he couldn't control his own family, and likely wasn't keen on making that point again. Instead, he lifted lift his left arm to his face and spoke into the Dark Mark: "Wormtail. MacNair. Come.

Bring them all."

Instantly, all over the room, Death Eaters began to Apparate: Wormtail, MacNair, Zabini, Rozier, Parkinson, and many others. People Draco had known since he was a child, had visited, whose children he had played with. None of them looked at him, sitting bloody and wretched-looking on the floor.

Voldemort turned from the window. "Harry Potter is here," he said, flexing his long fingers. "He is outside this room."

His voice lashed the Death Eaters like a whip. They stood to attention, staring around them. Draco saw Narcissa back out of the group quietly and leave the room through the back entrance.

There were footsteps in the hallways, clearly audible. The double doors opened.

First one, then the other. Draco was gripping his hands together tightly, although he didn't realize it.

Sirius came in, in the form of a dog. There was total silence. Hermione followed him, looking very pale and unhappy. And after Hermione — came Harry.

A sort of sigh rippled through the Death Eaters, like wind in branches.

Harry was even paler than Hermione, a sort of ashy white color, but he looked resolute. He wasn't wearing his glasses, which had the effect of making him look younger than he was. There was dried blood on his hand, still, and on his robes — some of his own, and some of Draco's.

"I'm here," he said.

Voldemort stood in the center of his circle of Death Eaters and laughed. "And I know why," he said. "You have come for him," and he pointed at Draco.

"Yes," said Harry.

"He isn't worth it, Harry Potter," said Voldemort. "What do you think he has been doing here all morning while you were busy rescuing your canine companion? He has been telling us everything. Ever since I ended the spell that bound you two — and I really must find out how that was done, it was most ingenious — he has been singing quite an interesting song."

"I don't believe it!" snapped Hermione. "You're lying! You could have figured out Harry was here without Draco saying anything at all!"

Voldemort turned his poisonous gaze on her. "You must have enjoyed your little interlude with young Malfoy in the wardrobe a great deal," he said, "to defend him so staunchly."

Color flooded Hermione's face. Draco tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn't look at him. "Then-then you tortured him," she said, but more uncertainly.

"I cannot imagine why I would wish to torture him for the information that he spent a sordid half an hour in a wardrobe with a stupid girl," said the Dark Lord.

"No. He told me willingly, told me everything. "

Hermione said nothing, but tears had begun to flood silently down her face.

"It hardly matters, in any case," said Voldemort, turning back to Harry. "I hold all the cards, you hold none. I would hardly believe you could be so irredeemably stupid as to come here thinking you could fight me. Only I knew your father, boy…and it is just the sort of thing he would have done. More stupid than brave, the both of you."