Draco: Phoenix Rising

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Not just yet...enne saame teada jahmatava informatsiooni Snape kohta ja siis vaatame alles, mis Voldist saab ja seda üsna peagi! Muahahahaha

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

Ma tean, et fööniks pole nii võimas, aga ma otsisin lahendust!
Ja näed, mul oli õigus, Draco ei surnud ära!
Ja mitte keegi headest ei sure ära!
VOT TAK!
Ja kuna Snape on Draco poolt, ja kuna ma totaalselt tunnen Snape, siis ma tean, et ta oli endale kaasa võtnud KAKS jooki, ühe selle tapva, ja teise sama värvi, aga täiesti kahjutu vedeliku.
Ta ei saanud ju eeldada, et Draco, Hermione ega teised sinna ei tule ja et Voldemort oma otsuseid ei muuda, eksole?
Nii et Hermione jääb KA ellu.
Tðiis, ma tunnen ennast targana!
Ja muidugi suutsin ma selle osa jooksul jälle nutma hakata [/color]

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Chapter Forty Nine – Snape’s Revelation

Draco felt a sinking sensation. When hit with a Killing Curse, one did not scream, one fell down and bloody died! Except when the caster was one’s own father and he didn’t really want to kill you, but regardless, Voldemort did not cooperate. He staggered backward and his scream turned into a macabre laugh. Draco tried again, remembering to want it—God, did he want the hellish bastard to die!—but this time Voldemort deflected the bolt. The Dark Lord flung a hex at Draco, who dove aside—away from Hermione. He saw her run to Harry out of the corner of his eye.

“Snape!” Draco yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you? They’ve been destroyed! Do you understand? We got them all!”

Draco scored another hit on Voldemort, who reeled, but did not fall. The Dark Lord snarled at Draco.

“Idiot! Did you think I would risk losing this body? The one it took me fifteen years to gain?” The Dark Lord laughed again. “There are means of protection of which Dumbledore knew nothing!”

Draco dove behind the chair to avoid another green blast, which took a large chunk out of the furnishing. He felt momentary chagrin—Lucius was going to be furious. Snape still stood nearby with an amused smile, not moving. Draco gripped the wand tighter and registered a moment of surprise when he recognized it. How had Hermione gotten Bellatrix’s wand?

“Snape! d**n you, do something!” he demanded, casting a Shield Charm just in time to deflect another blast.

“Nagini! Kill the Malfoys!” Voldemort countered before he seemed to recall the snake wasn’t human and quickly hissed in Parseltongue. Draco shot a quick bolt at the snake—a move Voldemort anticipated. Draco expected the attack and leaped behind Dobby’s cage. The house-elf howled in terror and pressed himself flat against the floor of the cage when it clanged loudly from the blast. Draco glanced over to see the snake’s scales beginning to tighten around his parents.

“Bastard!” Draco snarled and leaped out to hit Voldemort again, but the spells were having no effect—how the hell was he managing it?

“Expelliarmus!” Voldemort shrieked and Draco felt Bellatrix’s wand go flying. Bloody hell! Now he was completely defenseless. In frustration, Draco did the last thing the Dark Lord would expect—he charged him. Voldemort crashed to the floor with Draco atop him. Malfoy made sure to dig a knee hard into Voldemort’s midsection when he landed. His left hand grabbed the Dark Lord’s wrist while his right fumbled with the robes.

“Accio wands!” Draco hissed. This time it worked. All three wands slid from Voldemort’s enfolding robes and into Draco’s hand. Voldemort hurled Draco away from him with superhuman strength. Draco skid across the floor and cast a Shield Charm to deflect the inevitable hex that flew at him with intent to kill. The spell bounced off harmlessly, deflected by the odd triple-shield effect created by Draco using all three wands at once. Malfoy blinked in bemusement, never having seen anything quite like it.

Voldemort climbed to his feet, no longer amused. His red eyes fairly glowed with rage.

“Severus, kill this upstart immediately!” he snarled. “Kill them all!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Snape said quietly and leveled a bizarre black spell at Voldemort that knocked him back several meters to slam into the stone wall. If Draco had thought Voldemort enraged before, it was nothing compared to the expression that now flooded his snakelike features. He seemed too livid even for words to find the last Death Eater in the room turning against him. Voldemort shot spell after spell at Snape, who either dodged them or blocked them with apparent ease.

Draco took advantage of the respite to race over to his parents. He spared a quick glance at Harry and Hermione as he passed. Granger looked pale and somewhat shaken.

“Granger, catch!” he yelled. She snatched both wands out of the air when Draco tossed them. Draco stopped in surprise when he neared the snake. His father held the reptilian head in both hands to fend off the menacing fangs, but that was not what arrested Draco’s attention. Rather, it was the bloody slashes suddenly appearing on the snake’s body. Draco puzzled for a moment over the source—Narcissa seemed to be unconscious, or worse. Then Draco heard someone yell, “Sectumsempra!”

“Weasel? Is that you?”

“Yes,” Ron yelled from somewhere beneath Potter’s invisibility cloak. “Harry told me to help your parents.”

Draco wondered when Potter had managed that, but he did not pause to consider it as he cast several spells while keeping half an eye on the battle raging between Snape and Voldemort. The slashing spells worked on the snake, but not quickly enough. Draco could see his father’s grip weakening under the crushing grip of the coils.

A flash of red and orange obscured Draco’s vision and he blinked at the phoenix that suddenly hovered in front of him. In its claws, it held the battered Sorting Hat. The hilt of Gryffindor’s sword jutted from the hat. Draco snatched the sword without thinking and raced forward.

“I’m really starting to like that bird,” he murmured and swung the blade in a lethal arc, narrowly missing his father’s hands as he lopped Nagini’s head from the still-deadly body. Lucius flung the head away and collapsed.

“Weasley! Help me get the coils off—they’re still tightening!”

Draco threw the sword down and used his wand to pry the scaled menace from his parents. Parts of Weasley appeared as he tugged at the snake with hands and magic. Finally, Draco’s parents were free from the twitching coils.

“Mother—is she—?”

Lucius cradled Narcissa tenderly and touched her neck. His grey eyes met Draco’s.

“She lives.”

Draco’s relief was tangible. He gripped his father’s shoulder.

“Get her out of here,” he said.

“Not without you,” Lucius replied and looked at the strange battle. Snape and Voldemort seemed to be at a stalemate. Snape’s spells—Dark magic Draco had never seen before—had little effect on the Dark Lord. Likewise, Snape deflected Voldemort’s hexes with a frightening ease.

“No. I have to see this through,” Draco said. And he wouldn’t leave Hermione. “He’ll kill Mother if he can, to hurt both of us. You must get her to safety.” Lucius sighed and picked up his wife’s limp body.

“Be careful,” Lucius said. “And for pity’s sake, don’t do anything… Gryffindor.”

Draco grinned, knowing he couldn’t guarantee that. He turned; smile fading as he saw Hermione sprawled next to Potter. Her head rested on Harry’s shoulder. He hurried over and knelt beside her, feeling a jolt of fear at the look of pain in her brown eyes. She tried to mask it with a smile that looked more like a grimace of torment.

“I can’t believe you drank that,” he admonished and took her hand.

“I can’t believe you love me,” she replied. Draco flushed and smiled ruefully. His eyes slid to Potter’s. The green orbs were tinged with amusement for the briefest instant.

“We don’t have time to discuss that,” Draco said. “Did you free Potter from the Imperius?”

“No need—he did it himself.”

“You shook off the Imperius and then sat here? Thanks for the help, Potter,” Draco snapped.

“I didn’t want him to know I was free—I didn’t expect Snape to step in. How is Voldemort blocking the spells?”

“I don’t know. He said something about protection. He must have an amulet, or something.”

“That’s one hell of an amulet.”

“For someone that split his own soul into several pieces and tucked them into various objects, I don’t think an amulet of protection is much of a challenge.”

“All right, so how do we kill him?”

“Perhaps with the three of us attacking, we can overload the amulet.”

“What do you mean three?” Weasley asked.

“Don’t spoil the joy of not seeing you by speaking,” Draco mentioned and added, “You stay with Hermione—keep her under the cloak so Voldemort doesn’t try to use her against us again.” Even though she’s already dying, he thought with a spasm of pain. “We’ve got to get the antidote from Snape.”

“If there is an antidote,” she said gravely.

“Don’t say that!” Draco said harshly. He planted a desperate kiss on her lips—God, they were so cold—and handed her gently to Weasley, whose face had briefly appeared from the folds of the cloak.

“Ready, Potter?”

“Yeah,” Harry said and got to his feet. The two of them stood together and lifted their wands.



ooOoo



Harry was glad to have his wand in hand once more. He was also glad to have Malfoy beside him, though he would never have admitted that fact. They strode forward and cast simultaneously. Voldemort shrieked at the triple onslaught—Snape had cast a jagged, purple-black hex at the same moment. The Dark Lord actually staggered.

A pleading tone entered Voldemort’s voice. “Severus, why? You were always my most loyal servant!” His words were belied by the vicious hex he sent spinning toward Snape, who dispelled it with a flick of his wrist.

“Loyal servant?” Snape growled. “To you? I haven’t been loyal to you for the past eighteen years! My sole reason for living has been to see you permanently destroyed!”

Voldemort snarled and shot several spells in succession. He completely ignored Harry and Draco’s concerted attack, which seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

“But you killed Dumbledore!”

“Do you want to know why, you half-blood freak?” Snape cried. “You twisted, blood-tainted horror!”

“Your own father was a Muggle!” Voldemort countered angrily. Snape laughed. He sounded genuinely amused. Harry paused, as did Draco.

“Fool! You pride yourself on your power—your vaunted ability as a Legilimens, and yet you never once suspected!”

“Suspected what?” Voldemort snapped.

“You never suspected that I was not Severus Snape.” With that, the former Potions master touched his wand to his own head. His skin seemed to ripple and malform. The hook nose disappeared and the greasy hair became a gleaming black mass. The features reformed into a chiseled, handsome visage. The shocked silence in the room was tangible. Harry took a disbelieving step forward.

“Sirius?”

The bright blue eyes flicked to him for a bare instant before a sneer—utterly Snapelike and familiar, but puzzlingly different at the same time—twisted the handsome lips.

“Not my dear departed brother, Potter. My name is Regulus.”

Harry could not quite twist his mind around the revelation. Apparently, neither could Voldemort, who frankly gaped at him in incomprehension.

“Regulus Black? But… how?”

“How? Yes, that is quite a tale, isn’t it?” Regulus casually lifted his wand and shot a lightning bolt hex that knocked the Dark Lord off his feet to smash into the ground several meters away. Voldemort climbed to his feet with a snarl. Harry looked at Malfoy, who shrugged in puzzlement.

“We seem to be a bit useless, at the moment,” Draco commented. As if the words called Voldemort’s attention, a green bolt shot toward Malfoy. Harry instinctively cast a Shield Charm and the spell careened away. Malfoy turned his attention back to the Dark Lord and cast a spell that echoed Snape—no, Regulus Black’s—next curse.

The three of them moved to position themselves around Voldemort, who was beginning to look like a cornered animal. His protection charm had to be weakening, given the severe pounding it had taken.

“You were killed!” Voldemort yelled. “How can you be here?”

“You think you are the only one that knows about Horcruxes?” Regulus taunted. He laughed at the horrified expression on Voldemort’s twisted face. “Oh yes, I know all about your little toys. But no, my explanation is far simpler. When you sent your little group of Death Eaters to kill me, I killed them instead. Bole, Pucey, and Severus Snape. I forced Snape to drink Polyjuice Potion to become me. And then I killed him. His death anchored the spell—his body remained in my likeness. I then Polyjuiced into Snape and returned to you in triumph.”

Regulus quickly cast a spell that resembled Fred and George’s bubble spell, except Black’s seemed to be filled with poisonous gas. Voldemort struggled to dispel it. After a moment it wavered and burst.

“Of course, shortly thereafter you stupidly decided to attack the Potters when I told you about that ridiculous prophecy. The one I heard while applying for a job with Dumbledore. Under your orders I might add.” That seemed to strike Regulus as funny and he chuckled—a sound so reminiscent of Sirius that Harry felt a sharp spike of pain. “You might say you engineered your own downfall.”

Voldemort gathered himself and sent four quick spells zinging at Regulus. One missed and two were miraculously deflected, but the fourth spun Regulus half-around and sent him to one knee with a grimace of pain. Harry and Draco quickly attacked Voldemort, giving Regulus time to recover.

“I’ve never seen you take Polyjuice!” Harry called. When Barty Crouch, Jr. had playacted as Alastor Moody, he had continuously nipped from a flagon of Polyjuice Potion. Regulus rolled aside and leaped to his feet to escape additional spells. Harry thought Voldemort was definitely weakening and sent another Sectumsempra blasting at the Dark Lord.

“Once Voldemort was gone, I confessed all to Dumbledore. It was decided that I would remain Severus Snape in order to avoid Azkaban. Ironic, seeing that my dear brother was sent to that very place for a crime he did not commit.”

“How could you let Sirius go to Azkaban?” Harry shouted.

“I didn’t know he was innocent at the time. Frankly, I wouldn’t have cared. He was a right bastard to me, back then!” Regulus raced forward and shot spell after spell at Voldemort while closing the distance. Voldemort backed away while casting deflective counter-curses. Regulus continued to speak in a casual tone, although his breath was coming in harsh gasps from exertion. “Dumbledore and I expected you to come back much sooner, Lord Voldemort. Good old Albus made my transformation permanent so that I did not have to continually imbibe Polyjuice.”

A blast from Voldemort caused Regulus to pause and drop to one knee to avoid it.

“You killed Dumbledore!” Harry yelled.

“It was the only way to get back into Tom Riddle’s good graces,” Regulus said. “Besides, the old fool was dead already. Destroying the ring nearly killed him and drinking the potion in the cave clinched it. There was no way to save him and he knew it.”

“Don’t call me Tom Riddle!” Voldemort shrieked suddenly and leaped at Regulus, who was taken off-guard at the unexpected movement. He crashed to the floor with the Dark Lord on top of him. Voldemort’s wand twisted into the folds of Black’s robes and a reddish glow emanated from the wand to shimmer over Regulus, who threw back his head and screamed agonizingly.

Draco lobbed curse after curse at Voldemort, who finally climbed off of Regulus with a snarl and turned on Malfoy. Regulus lay still. Harry shook off his horror and joined Draco’s efforts. Malfoy looked more frantic than Harry had ever seen him. He was puzzled for a moment until he remembered—oh God, Hermione. If Regulus were dead, how would they find an antidote?

“We’ve got to end this now!” Draco yelled, racing across the room pursued by a barrage of spells.

“How?” Harry demanded, throwing himself aside when Voldemort shifted the attack to him. “Our spells aren’t working!”

“Give up, Potter!” Voldemort said and laughed. “Regulus Black was a master of the Dark Arts. You can’t even cast a simple Unforgivable!”

“I can!” Draco yelled and sent three at the Dark Lord. “And you are weakening!” It was true, Voldemort was panting raggedly and he seemed to be in pain. Harry thought some of the spells were beginning to work.

“Not enough to matter,” Voldemort said simply and cast again. The green bolt shot toward Draco in a flash. Malfoy cried out and fell.

“NO!” Harry screamed. With renewed energy, he attacked Voldemort once more. The reddish eyes seemed to glow with rage and he advanced on Harry, who backed away and nearly tripped over the broken chair. A bolt nearly hit him as he skirted the seat and continued backward. Voldemort followed until he stood before the chair.

“It’s just you and me, Potter,” Voldemort grated. “As it was meant to be.” He lifted his wand in what Harry knew would be the final encounter. Harry’s eyes met the reptilian orbs and he knew death was a single spell away. Make it quick, he prayed. A voice cut through Harry’s dark thoughts.

“Potter, catch!”

He glanced over to see the Gryffindor sword flying hilt-first toward him from Draco’s hand. Harry caught the sword without thinking, twisted, and launched himself straight at Voldemort. The blade thrust the Dark Lord backward into the chair and the force of Harry’s attack sent the sword straight through Voldemort’s body to pierce the chair. Harry’s face was inches from Voldemort’s and the red eyes were wide with reptilian surprise.

“Did I mention we destroyed all your Horcruxes?” Harry whispered coldly.

“No… it’s impossible,” Voldemort hissed. Blood sprayed from his lips with the words and Harry grinned like a Malfoy.

“Enjoy hell, Tom.”

Voldemort howled and his body suddenly softened and twisted. Harry shoved himself away and stood back. The body, a construct of magic, seemed to both split and dissolve at once. The howling scream keened to an almost inaudible pitch and then died away. The shrunken body contained in the black robes shriveled away, leaving a shapeless mass held to the chair by the gleaming sword.

Harry fell to his knees in stunned relief.



ooOoo



Draco did not wait for Voldemort to die. After ensuring Potter actually caught the sword, he raced to Regulus Black. His hands wrapped in the black robes. Thankfully, the cerulean eyes opened.

“Draco,” Regulus said and coughed. “My sweet cousin.”

Draco stared at him for a moment, suddenly realizing why Snape had always seemed to favor him—and why he always spent time at the Malfoys. Regulus had always been his mother’s favorite cousin… He had forsaken his family, except in the guise of a pathetic half-blood teacher. Draco shook off the thought.

“The antidote!” he demanded. “Give it to me.”

“Draco. She’s a Mudblood. Let her die.”

Draco’s hands clenched into fists and he half-lifted Black with a sob of fear. Regulus had sacrificed eighteen years of his life for his pureblood ideals. Would he sacrifice Hermione to spare Draco from the Mudblood taint? Draco had never begged for anything in his entire life. He did so now.

“Please. Please, Regulus.”

Black coughed again and blood flecked his lips.

“It’s for your own good, cousin.”

Draco nearly slammed Black’s head into the floor in frustration.

“Let me worry about my own good, d**n you!” he snarled. “Now, where is it?”

Regulus shut his eyes and sighed. “It’s in my office. Left of the door. Cabinet—second shelf. Third bottle over. Green label. Cousin, you’ll never get there in time.”

Draco flung himself to his feet and raced for the passage, knowing Regulus spoke the truth. The poison had already been in Hermione’s system far too long. When Draco reached the entrance, he bowled over Ginny Weasley as she exited. She glared at him from the ground and he stared at her red hair for a moment as a wild idea dawned.

“Fawkes!” Draco yelled suddenly, scanning the room. The bird had evidently been perched nearby, for it only took a moment for it to land on Draco’s shoulder. Malfoy sagged in relief. “Get the antidote. Snape’s office!” He explained where it was and the phoenix streaked off in a blur. Draco clenched his fists in anxiety, skirted the red-haired stick girl without looking at her and walked to Hermione—still half-covered by Harry’s cloak. Ron moved aside as Draco sat down heavily and slid Hermione’s head into his lap. Her body was wracked with pain and she was drenched in sweat.

Harry Potter stood nearby with a worried expression. Ginny slipped her arms around him.

“Hold on, Granger, you insanely stubborn Gryffindor,” Draco murmured and took both her hands in his. She squeezed his hands tightly, white-knuckled. Hurry, bird, he urged.

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

*lehvitab kätega näo poole*
Jälle ma nutan!
Ma ei või ... see on NIII armas jutt, ma olen täiesti armunud sellesse.
Ma põhimõtteliselt arvan, et ma tean juba, kuidas lõppeb, aga ma tahan teada täpselt, mis juhtub.
Ja ma ütleks veel sadat asja, aga lihtsalt seda oleks liiga palju.
Mm ... aa, kuskil üleeelmise osa lõpus, see oli Regulus, kes ütles seda "It's time to move, Harry", onja?
Ja ... Draco on NII SITAKS NUNNU![/i]

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Chapter Fifty – A True Gryffindor

Harry watched Draco for a moment, astounded at the change in the Slytherin. Less than a month ago, Harry would have given anything to watch Malfoy suffer. Now it was agony. He held Ginny tightly; knowing he should ask her about the Death Eaters, but nothing seemed to matter except Hermione’s shallow breathing.

A small rattle behind him made him turn. Dobby’s cage was twisted and bent, but not broken. Harry released Ginny and walked over to release the lock. Dobby climbed out and gratefully looked at Harry sadly.

“Dobby found the Dark Lord, Harry Potter,” the house-elf said. Harry tried to smile. Dobby went on, “Kreacher is free.”

Harry nodded. “Because Regulus Black is the true master of Grimmauld Place and has been since Sirius died.”

“Yes, Harry Potter.”

Harry’s eyes went to Regulus, who still lay unmoving where Voldemort’s spell had broken him. Harry walked over and knelt beside him. For a moment, he thought Regulus was dead, but he blue eyes—so like Sirius’s—opened and glanced at him. Blood bubbled from his lips with every breath.

“We need to get you some help,” Harry said in alarm.

“No, Potter,” Regulus rasped. He grimaced. “So. You managed to win, after all.”

“Thanks to you,” Harry admitted, although he wasn’t certain he meant it. His memories of Snape were so steeped in hatred, it was hard to reconcile years of anger with the man who now lay before him.

Regulus closed his eyes.

“You were so awful to me,” Harry whispered.

“I hate you, Potter,” Regulus admitted with a slight smile. “I hated your father, I hated Remus Lupin, and I hated my brother… until he was gone. I wish…” He coughed and wiped his lips with a pale wrist, leaving a smear of red across his handsome face. “We had fun together as children. I wish we could have held onto that as we grew. I missed him when he chose James Potter over me.”

Harry felt a yawning chasm of pain calling him, as it always did when he thought of Sirius. It was mingled with the ever-present rage.

“You let him rot in Azkaban,” Harry hissed.

“Do not try to lay penance on me, Potter,” Regulus snapped, Snapelike. “I know what I’ve done.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You killed Snape after you were both out of Hogwarts. Yet when I saw the memory in the Pensieve during Occlumency lessons—you… Snape? were in school.”

Regulus barked a wet laugh.

“That was a true memory of dear Severus,” he admitted. “I coaxed it out of him one night when we were both smashed. I kept several of Snape’s old memories to help in my charade. Luckily, the horrid little git was never popular and no one knew him well. My identity was never questioned.”

A coughing spasm wracked his body and Harry stood quickly.

“I’ll get you some help.”

“Heal me so I can go to Azkaban for killing Dumbledore?” Regulus asked and grinned horribly.

“No… I’m sure—“

A shout distracted Harry—Fawkes had returned.



ooOoo




The phoenix landed on Draco’s shoulder and dropped the vial into his hand. It was a tiny, opaque brown bottle with a green label. The writing had long since faded into illegibility.

Hermione had slipped into delirium. She kept murmuring Draco’s name between wrenching spasms of pain. He carefully uncorked the bottle and slid a glance at Regulus Black. Harry crouched over the former Death Eater.

Draco paused with the vial poised over Hermione’s lips. Regulus despised her kind—the potion could easily be another poison to hasten her demise. Hermione whimpered and Draco realized it would be a mercy to kill her quickly rather than let her suffer the torment she now endured.

He tipped the potion into her mouth.



ooOoo




Regulus’s hand caught Harry’s as he began to walk away.

“Potter—perhaps you can help me.”

Harry threw an anxious glance toward the others gathered around Hermione and then crouched beside Black once more.

“In my cape—there is a potion with a red stopper. It will help with the pain. Left pocket.”

Harry quickly rifled through Regulus’s pockets—the man was a veritable cornucopia of potions. He finally located one with a red stopper. It was an ugly blackish potion, unlabeled.

Harry held it up dubiously, wishing he had paid more attention in Potions class. Regulus reached up and took it, but he did not have the strength to unstopper it. Harry took it and popped out the red cork.

Regulus grasped the vial with a shaking hand and emptied the contents into his mouth. He grinned sardonically at Harry.

“I’ll say hello to Sirius for you, Potter,” he said. Harry watched in disbelief as Black’s hand dropped lifelessly to the floor. The vial clinked on the stone and rolled away.

“d**n you,” Harry whispered and grabbed Regulus’s throat, feeling desperately for a pulse. After a moment, he sat back on his haunches with a strange sense of despair. Regulus Black was dead—in truth this time. And Severus Snape with him.

Harry rose and walked back to his friends.



ooOoo




After a long moment, Hermione’s breathing eased. Draco did not know whether or not it was a good sign. He held Hermione tightly, as though he could somehow transfer his life force to her.

His eyes met Weasley’s. Ron knelt nearby and his blue eyes mirrored Draco’s. For the first time, he felt kinship with the Weasel and smiled ruefully.

“She’ll be fine,” Ron murmured fervently.

Draco glanced over at the passageway as several people entered—Neville, Luna, Susan Bones, Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Jack Williamson. Harry joined them as they approached.

“Regulus Black is dead,” Harry said. Draco felt a twinge of… what? Remorse? Regulus, as Snape, had taken an active role in Draco’s life, especially recently.

“Regulus Black has been dead for years,” Tonks said, puzzled.

“Not quite as dead as everyone assumed,” Draco commented. He noticed Lupin was bleeding from several claw like gashes, especially one that had carved a furrow across his scalp and over one temple, narrowly missing his eye. Blood trickled down his face and dripped onto his robes. Tonks repeatedly tried to dab at it with a cloth, but Remus waved her back.

“Voldemort?” Lupin asked.

“The Chosen One triumphed over evil,” Draco said dramatically and grinned at Potter’s glare. He felt Hermione’s hand clench on his and looked down to see her eyes open. She smiled softly.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“A bit better. I’m no longer praying to die.”

“Thank goodness, because I’m praying for you to live and it would be damned counter-productive.” His words were light, but still he feared the potion might not be an antidote. It could yet be a painkiller or sedative.

“What happened to the Death Eaters?” Harry asked.

“Susan Bones killed most of them,” Ginny said. Draco decided to hate Susan a bit less next time he saw her.

“Greyback nearly got me,” Luna said. “But Professor McGonagall saved me before…”

“Before Greyback killed her,” Tonks said quietly. Harry sucked in a harsh breath, but Draco felt little at the news. McGonagall had been a minimal presence in his life. Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and Draco decided it would be a good idea to comfort her. He kissed her and was pleased to note her lips were no longer ice cold. He was mildly entertained by the gasp of surprise his action brought from Lupin.

Hermione’s hand reached up and touched his hair. Draco enjoyed the kiss a bit too much and had to force himself to break it.

“I can’t breathe again,” Hermione murmured.

Draco looked at her in alarm, but she giggled.

“It’s your fault this time.”

“Voldemort said he had the Ministry,” Harry said. “Is there any word?”

Lupin snorted and batted away Tonks as she held the cloth up to his head.

“Voldemort was a bit premature, there. If he had waited a bit longer, until the full moon—it would have been awful. As it was, they were poorly organized; a rabble, really. They were led by Avery and consisted of a group of Greyback’s pet werewolves. They completely broke ranks and ran amok throughout the Ministry. That Death Eater with a face like a hatchet—“

“Lars,” Draco supplied.

“—arrived later and tried to get them under control, but it was too late. A handful of Aurors and some of the more competent Ministry officials made mincemeat of them.”

“And then Fred and George appeared and it was quickly over,” Jack said. “Those two are bloody brilliant.”

“Although they are now in some trouble with Rufus Scrimgeour…” Lupin added.

Jack chuckled. “You should see what they did to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Lupin sighed and ducked Tonks again.

“If you don’t hold still and let me tend to that, I’m going to bloody well hex you unconscious and then do it!” she yelled. For a moment, Draco thought the werewolf might actually defy his cousin, but then Tonks smiled and wheedled, “Please.” Lupin caved like a cheap cauldron hit by a Bludger.

“What about Percy?” Ron asked suddenly. Luna had sidled over and attached herself to Weasley’s arm, as she usually did to Draco. Ron didn’t seem to mind.

“He’s fine. The exchange went as planned. He’s at St. Mungo’s with your parents. A bit bruised and shaken, but he should be all right.”

“I think I can stand,” Hermione said. Draco helped her to her feet, wincing when the phoenix shifted and dug its claws into his shoulder. He wondered how to make the bird depart, but forgot the thought as Hermione swayed against him. Draco caught her and his arms went around her waist. Her hands clutched his shoulders. He stared into her wide brown eyes for a moment before he noticed she was grinning wickedly.

“I did that on purpose,” she admitted.

“You are turning into a shameless hussy, Granger!” he whispered into her ear.

“I nearly died,” she said. “I realized there are some things I want to do before that happens. Most of them involve you… without clothing.”

Draco went rigid and sucked in a shocked breath.

“Should we leave?” Potter asked dryly, echoing Draco’s thoughts. When Hermione looked at Harry, he grinned and enveloped her in a hug—which included Draco, since he had not released her. Malfoy suffered Potter’s arm around his shoulders. For a moment.

“Potter can’t keep his hands off of me, Granger. You might want to have a word with him.”

“If you let go of her, I won’t need to touch you at all,” Potter commented.

“I don’t want to deprive you of your meager pleasures.”

Harry gave him a pained look. “Malfoy—“

“Oh all right,” Draco said and freed Hermione. Harry immediately pulled her into a joyful embrace, joined quickly by Weasley. Strangely, Draco felt no envy seeing the trio thus enfolded. He no longer felt like an outsider.

Lupin was kneeling by Wormtail. He gently pulled the metal hand away from Wormtail’s throat and closed the staring eyes with one hand.

“Maybe we were too hard on him,” he said regretfully. “Did we exclude him? Sometimes I felt inadequate next to Sirius and James… It must have been so much worse for Peter.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Remus,” Tonks said with a hand on his shoulder. “Peter was responsible for the choices he made. He had to have known the consequences.”

Lupin sighed and stood up. “It was such a bloody waste.”

Draco agreed with that statement, although he felt no remorse whatsoever that Wormtail was gone. The little bastard had caused so much destruction in his quest for… what? Power? Any power granted to him by Voldemort had been an illusion.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lupin said.

Harry retrieved Gryffindor’s sword, grimacing when the black cloth dropped to the seat of Malfoy’s ruined chair. Draco noted he’d have to find another for his father. Ron picked up the invisibility cloak and slung it over his shoulder. Jack Williamson levitated Regulus Black’s body and Lupin did the same for Wormtail.

As they left the chamber and walked through the passage, Potter glanced at the phoenix on Draco’s shoulder.

“Looks like you’ve acquired a pet,” Harry commented.

“I think it acquired me,” he said wryly.

Harry blinked and said, “You know, we could have used Fawkes to heal Hermione—his tears…”

Draco glared at him.

“Bloody brilliant of you to think of it now, Potter.”

Harry grinned.

“You know, Malfoy, Dumbledore once told me something interesting.” He paused dramatically and Draco steeled himself for the dreaded snippet of wisdom. “He said only a true Gryffindor could pull Godric’s sword from the Sorting Hat.”

Draco halted, aghast. Hermione laughed merrily.

“Maybe you should switch Houses,” she said.

Draco and Ron spoke together.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Hermione wasn’t. “Just because it’s never been done before doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

Weasley groaned and clapped a hand to his head. The red-haired stick girl looked equally horrified, which made Draco pause and actually consider the idea. Anything the Weasley’s hated…

“Red is an appalling color on me,” he murmured, but the thought of being in the same portion of the castle as Hermione had its appeal, particularly since Draco already knew how to disable the spell that kept boys out of the girl’s dorm…

He looked at Hermione in sudden, wicked speculation and she caught her breath in surprise.

“Why the hell not?” he said and laughed. If nothing else, it would cause a bloody uproar in both Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses. Hermione threw her arms around him and gave him such a heady kiss he was ready to throw off his green robes and don the hideous red at that moment—figuratively speaking.

“God, I’ll never be free of him!” Weasley moaned.

[Liz-Miia Parker]

Awwww....järgmine osa on kindlasti draco ja hermi....voodikogemused nah xD

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

NII armas!
Amuide.
Ma tahtsin küsida, et kas sa tead selle jutu autori nime?
Või siis kui mitte, siis anna aadress, kust sa selle jutu võtsid (pärast viimase osa ülespanemist muidugi ), et ma saaksin sealt küsida.
Ma tahaks väga teada.
Endiselt hullult armastan!
Ja ma nõustun Liziga XD[/color]

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Viimane peatükk siis !

Chapter Fifty One - Epilogue

Draco tugged at his new dress robes. Hermione had picked them out for him after informing him that his black ones made him look like a vicar. He flicked a speck of imaginary dust from the silver-grey sleeve and grinned. She stood across from him and her brown eyes glowed appreciatively. She winked evilly and his pulse sped a bit at the anticipation of dragging her away after this foolish wedding business was over.

Bill Weasley looked nearly as nice as Draco from where he stood next to the minister. His long red hair was pulled back in a silver clasp and he wore rich blue robes trimmed in silver. He looked cool and confident. The rest of the Weasleys looked well-scrubbed and polished, even the red-haired stick girl who batted her lashes at Potter. Draco grinned. He had asked Harry if Ginny had extended him sexual favors and Potter’s scarlet reaction had more than answered the blunt question. Draco had been happy to note that tormenting Potter was far more satisfying now than it had ever been when they were enemies.

Fleur Delacour appeared and Draco’s brows rose appreciatively. She looked a vision in palest peach and the satin gleamed where the summer sun touched it. They could not have chosen a more perfect August day. Draco’s eyes left Bill’s bride and touched the school beyond. It was still uncertain whether or not Hogwarts would reopen in a few weeks. The battle over the new Headmaster or Headmistress continued. Slughorn had agreed to return as Potions Master once more. In a surprising twist, Lucius Malfoy had announced his intention to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and become the new head of Slytherin House. He had been cleared of any charges after the testimony of Potter and Ron Weasley at the trial.

Draco knew his father had decided to teach solely to sway Draco from the “insane path” he had chosen—namely his decision to join Gryffindor House (not that he really planned to go through with it, but he was having a bloody fabulous time getting everyone into a complete froth the idea), but also his open infatuation with Hermione Granger. There had been quite a row at Malfoy Manor once Draco returned home, although most of the shouting had been done by Lucius. Draco had listened with a pleased smile—so glad to be home without the threat of imminent death hanging over them that he barely heard his father’s words. Lucius had finally collapsed in his new chair with a frustrated glare. Draco had walked over and planted a kiss on his father’s forehead.

“I’ll be fine, Father. We all will.”

Draco’s meeting with Granger’s parents had gone much better. They immediately adored him, largely due to his stunningly perfect teeth, apparently. Draco had spent several days there and enjoyed the shower as often as possible, both singly… and with company. He flushed momentarily at the memory and glanced at Hermione in remembrance of her wet body covered in suds… She caught his steamy gaze and blushed profusely. Draco willed the bloody ceremony to end.

The last of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and sent to the Ministry for trail—but for Fenrir Greyback, who had escaped after attacking Lupin in the Chamber. Auntie Bellatrix had not gone quietly, screaming insanely that the Dark Lord would return as before. Potter and the others had exchanged smug looks at that outburst—they were confident all Horcruxes had been destroyed. Her husband, Rodolphus, had been killed in the battle with Susan Bones, Neville, and the others. Susan had stood trial and been released after the Carrows activities had been examined. The Carrows had been instrumental in the murders of Amelia Bones and several others. Susan was being closely watched by the Ministry and had to report in weekly, but at least she was not in Azkaban. The Longbottoms had taken her in and Draco vowed to watch that relationship closely. Psychotic Susan with passive Neville. It was curious.

Potter’s birthday had been a riotous celebration. They had held it at Harry’s house in London—horrid nasty place though it was, especially jammed with Weasleys. Their house was being rebuilt, but they planned to live with Harry until it was complete. Draco was certain the fringe benefit of having the red-haired stick girl under his roof had not escape Potter. The party had begun innocently enough with singing, eating cake and opening cute gifts. Draco had finally tired of it, kidnapped Potter and taken him to a seedy wizard bar. They had gotten completely shitfaced and Potter had been in the process of drawing lightning bolts on the ample bosoms of several local girls when Hermione and Ginny had tracked them down and ended the festivities.

Draco looked at Granger again through narrowed eyes. He still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to find them. Clever little minx. He might have to torture the information out of her. The thought made him pleasantly warm again and he looked at Bill and Fleur. They were finally exchanging vows, thank God.

Finally the kissing, cheering, flower tossing and other wedding-related chores were past. They all adjourned to the Great Hall for the reception. Draco dragged Hermione straight to the Slytherin dungeon. She was vexed with him for almost two minutes until he kissed her senseless.

“We’re going to miss the gift opening,” she protested.

“Thank God,” he said ardently. His fingers worked on the buttons of her gown while his mouth worked on the hollow of her throat.

“Won’t it be nice to get back to school?” she asked.

“Nice,” he agreed as the fabric pooled at her feet. Bloody hell, she was wearing those delectable lace undergarments again. Burnished copper in color. He picked her up and carried her to the cashmere rug he had installed before the fireplace.

“It will be rather sad, though. Our last year. I never asked what you plan to do after school.”

Draco wasn’t listening. It didn’t matter; he knew how to silence her.

“Hermione?” he asked before kissing his way beneath the lace. She gasped and arched beneath him.

“Draco?”

“I love you,” he said and proceeded to prove it.

The End!!!!

---

Selle fictioni autor on Cheryl Dyson

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Autori poolt on üles pandud ka boonus peatükk . Enjoy !

Bonus Chapter Thirty Eight - Percy

Lucius was sick to death of dirt. He wanted to go home, forcibly oust the bloody
squatters that had most likely moved in since their departure, take a scalding bath, put on his silk dressing gown, pour a glass of cognac, make love to his wife, and climb between the 600 thread-count Egyptian combed cotton sheets on his own feather bed.

Instead, he flung himself down on the hard pallet that lay on the floor of the filthy cave next to Narcissa. Her beautiful blonde hair had been pulled back into a tight horse’s tail and there was a smudge of grime on her cheek. She looked tired, but smiled at him wanly.

“I abhor camping,” she commented as Lucius wiped at the dirt on her face with a tender thumb. Lucius had to laugh. They had taken Draco camping only once, when he was six, and he had proven to detest camping as much as his mother. He had complained about the dirt, the insects, the birds, the weather, the food, and his interminable boredom until Lucius had Apparated them to Paris for the remainder of the weekend just to shut him up.

“Hopefully this won’t take much longer,” he said. Narcissa scooted behind him to massage his shoulders. Lucius had spent the day with the other lucky Death Eaters Levitating and shifting tons of rock. They had been at it for days, trying to clear a tunnel that had been blocked for decades.

When clear, the passage would lead directly into the Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts. From there, Voldemort planned to launch his offensive.

“He was in a bloody rage today,” Lucius commented.

“I know. Snape told me.”

“Did he tell you why?”

Narcissa’s lips touched the side of his neck and her arms slid down to caress his chest as she pressed herself against his back. He sighed deeply and recalled his fantasy of returning home. He and Narcissa currently shared their cave with Lars and McNair.

They had barely had a moment’s privacy in weeks. Even at Malfoy Manor, that fucking snake had been in almost constant attendance.

“Apparently, both Fenrir Greyback and Wormtail have disappeared,” she murmured.

Lucius gripped both of her hands and pressed kisses against her knuckles while he digested the news. He grinned. “Incredible. Those two, as well as Alecto and Amycus? That had to hurt.”

“Snape thinks Wormtail might have turned traitor.”

“That coward? He would never cross the Dark Lord now that Dumbledore is gone. He’d be far too bloody frightened of the repercussions. No, he’s been taken.”

“Do you think it was Draco?” she murmured in his ear, so quietly he could barely hear her. They had an unspoken agreement not to discuss their son, knowing it was dangerous. Far better to pretend they thought Draco was dead.

“Possibly.”

Lucius closed his eyes, feeling a fresh surge of frustration. If he had been alone, he would have walked out on Voldemort’s wretched plan and Apparated to the Caribbean. The snaky bastard had guaranteed Lucius’s loyalty by clamping an anti-Disapparation band around Narcissa’s wrist. Any attempt to remove it would alert Voldemort.

The only way Narcissa would be fleeing the Dark Lord was afoot. Lucius could only guess what other unpleasant tricks had been spelled into the bracelet. Regardless, Narcissa was trapped and with her, Lucius.

“You should leave me here and go help our little ray of sunshine,” she murmured, using her pet phrase for Draco. He turned slightly and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her perfect lips and slid his hands over her body, feeling the pinch of his tightly-leashed passion when she clung to him.

“You know I’ll never leave you,” he whispered against her mouth. “And so does he.”

She held him tightly and pushed one hand up into his hair, which had pulled mostly free of the leather thong that bound it. He buried his face in her neck and drank in the feel of her.

“Bloody hell, get a room!” McNair guffawed, stomping into the cave and throwing himself on another pallet. “Oh, I forgot. Ye can’t!” He laughed heartily. “That’s okay, I’ll watch.”

“Go f**k yourself,” Lucius said harshly.

McNair sneered at him and sprawled out on his blankets. Lars entered and collapsed on his own blankets.

“This is crap,” he grumbled. “Digging is for trolls. Or goblins. Can’t he get some bleeding goblins down here to do this shite?”

“Goblins ain’t getting’ involved,” McNair put in. “They say it’s a wizard war.

Don’t care who wins.”

“Some war,” Lars spat. “We haven’t done anything productive in days. Only the damned werewolves get to have any fun.”

“Not anymore,” Lucius commented. “Greyback disappeared.” The other two Death Eaters stared at him. Lars whistled.

“Probably got himself Avada Kedavraed by an angry parent.”

Lucius hoped that were true. He’d seen the way Fenrir had watched Draco. The werewolf was a sick bastard. If they got out of this alive, Lucius planned to take out Fenrir. No matter who won, the werewolf was going to be a casualty. Lucius would see to it personally.

Snape strolled into the cave and gazed at them with his usual smug superiority. His eyes softened a bit as they took in Narcissa and Lucius suppressed a grin. The poor, greasy bastard had been lusting after his wife for as long as Lucius could remember. Narcissa felt sorry for him, and even genuinely liked the little cretin, so Lucius had encouraged their relationship. It made Lucius seem very magnanimous and trusting. In addition, it allowed Snape to pass on valuable information to the Malfoys—formerly anything of interest at Hogwarts or with the Order of the Phoenix, and now within Voldemort’s inner circle.

“The Dark Lord wants to see you,” Snape said to Lucius.

“Now?” Lucius snarled. It had been a bloody long day spent excavating and Lucius wanted only to lie on his rock-hard pallet next to his gorgeous wife and go to sleep.

“No, the next time it’s convenient for you,” Snape returned sarcastically. “Of course now.”

Lucius sighed and slid Narcissa back onto the makeshift bed. She gave him a smile of encouragement to hide her concern. He squeezed her hand in reassurance and then got to his feet. He paused next to Snape.

“Stay with Narcissa, won’t you?” he asked quietly. “I don’t trust those two heathens.”

Snape looked at Lars and McNair and nodded. The former Potion’s master walked over and sat down next to Narcissa.

Lucius looked back once and saw their two heads, one bright and one dark, bent together. For the briefest moment, he wondered if Narcissa would seek solace in Snape’s embrace, should Lucius never return. He shook off the idea. Best not to think dark thoughts before a meeting with Voldemort.

The Dark Lord’s current lair was accessed by a devilishly tricky maze of passages. Lucius nearly took a wrong turn twice and hurried to enter the large cave. The encroaching darkness made the chamber seem over larger, for the place was lit only by a single firepit in the center of the floor.

The Dark Lord had taken Lucius’s favorite chair from the parlour at Malfoy Manor and it now rested in the dirt of the cave, near the fire. Several burn marks on the upholstery displayed its proximity to random sparks. Lucius clamped his teeth together in annoyance.

Voldemort was not immediately visible, but Lucius could sense his presence. He stood impassively before the firepit and waited. Before long, a hissing noise preceded the snake as Nagini slithered from the darkness to curl around the legs of the chair.

The Dark Lord followed and seated himself. He held his bone-white wand in a pale hand and tipped his reptilian face to regard Lucius.

“How goes our project, old friend?” Voldemort asked, stressing the final two words a bit. Lucius knew the bastard had already received a detailed report from Snape, but he kept his face impassive.

“I don’t know, my lord,” Lucius said. “It seems to go well, but I do not know how much longer until our goal is met.”

“Oh, it won’t be long now,” Voldemort hissed. “Not long at all.”

Lucius waited, quite certain the shifty bastard had not called him here to discuss dirt digging.

“Wormtail has disappeared.”

Lucius did not bother to pretend surprise.

“Turncoat, or dead?” he asked.

“He had better be dead,” Voldemort said and caressed his wand in a somewhat obscene manner. “If he knows what is good for him.”

Lucius did not care a jot about Wormtail. He would like nothing better than to stamp on his ratlike head. The fucking little nuts was the one responsible for bringing this slithering horror back into the world.

“I sent him to deliver some instructions to Fenrir Greyback. I have not heard from either of them and my instructions have not been carried out,” Voldemort went on.

Lucius said nothing, knowing the point would be arrived at, eventually. “It is of little matter, however. They were meant to be a diversion. The plan will yet be carried out. I would send you to lead them, but I’m not entirely certain of your undying loyalty, Lucius.”

“Of course you have my loyalty, my lord,” Lucius said, making certain the truth rang in his voice. Voldemort waved the comment aside with a flick of his skeletal hand.

“Yes, yes. I’ll have your loyalty as long as I keep your pretty wife under lock and key. Tell me, is your son alive?”

The question came from nowhere and Lucius felt the probe of the Dark Lord’s mind, sharp as a dagger, beneath his penetrating gaze. “I believe so, my lord,” he replied honestly. “But that my simply be a father’s wishful thinking.”

“Where is he?” Voldemort demanded.

“I don’t know,” Lucius replied, for once glad of the fact. Voldemort’s presence withdrew from his mind.

“I hope, for your sake, that Draco has not betrayed me.”

“He would not do that with his mother in your… care.” Inwardly, Lucius wondered what Draco was up to and if Wormtail’s disappearance had been his doing. He hoped his son would be extremely cautious.

“We shall see,” Voldemort said cryptically. “I’ve sent Bella to fetch something for me. I believe she has returned.”

A moment later, Bellatrix Lestrange entered the cavern with a guest. Her hand was wrapped firmly in the red hair at the base of Percy Weasley’s neck. She dragged him into the room. To his credit, he made no sound, though his eyes were bright with tears of pain and wide with poorly-masked fear.

“Such a dedicated little Weasel,” Bella crooned as she flung Percy next to the Dark Lord’s chair. Percy fell to his knees, but climbed quickly to his feet.

“The other Weasels have gone to ground, except those wretched twins in Diagon Alley. That shop of theirs is near-impenetrable. But this one—conveniently working late hours at the Ministry all alone. So dedicated.”

As she spoke, she walked forward and gripped Percy’s chin in her fingers. He glared at her and tried to jerk away, but she squeezed and her nails dug into his flesh.

“Horrid little blood traitor!” Bellatrix hissed. “Where is Harry Potter?” She raised her wand and placed the tip against Percy’s cheek, pressing it hard against his cheekbone and twisting it slightly.

Percy suddenly shoved her with both hands and Bella stumbled backward and nearly fell. Her nails left bloody scratches on Weasley’s jaw.

“You dare?” she shrieked and leveled her wand at him. Green light shot out and enveloped Percy, who screamed as the Cruciatus Curse flung him, writhing, to the ground. Voldemort watched impassively.

The torture went on for quite some time and Bellatrix was whipping herself into a sickening frenzy of glee. Lucius was revolted. It was hard to believe the sadistic creature was related to his gentle wife.

Voldemort finally raised a hand.

“Enough, Bella. He needs to retain the ability to speak.”

Lucius wasn’t certain the Dark Lord had stopped it in time. Percy was on the floor in a fetal position, sobbing piteously and whining, “No more… no more…”

Bella crouched beside him and forced him to look at her.

“Where is Harry Potter?” she repeated. A shudder ran through Weasley’s tortured frame, but he shut his eyes. His bloody jaw clenched tightly in defiance. A Gryffindor to the end. Bella stood up in a rage and pointed her wand again with a snarl, but Voldemort’s voice stopped her.

“Easy, Bella. There are subtler ways.”

The Dark Lord had to have known torture wouldn’t work, even on the weakest Weasley. He had simply let Bellatrix Crucio the boy for pleasure. She reluctantly lowered the wand.

“Lucius, fetch Severus. Tell him to bring Veritaserum.”

Lucius obediently went back to the cave to fetch Snape. He and Narcissa followed when Snape returned to Voldemort’s audience.

Lucius and Bella held Percy tightly while Snape tipped the potion into his mouth and forced Weasley to swallow. They waited a bit for the potion to take effect and then Voldemort asked, “Now, where is Harry Potter?”

“At Hogwarts,” Percy said in a slurred tone.

“Hogwarts!” Voldemort breathed.

“Are you sure?” asked Bellatrix.

Percy nodded like a doll with a broken neck. His head lolled.

“I saw him there, myself,” Percy said.

“Do you know Draco Malfoy?” Voldemort asked suddenly. Lucius felt his blood run cold.

“Yes.”

“Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” Percy replied and giggled strangely. “He has black hair.”

Lucius nearly sagged in relief.

“He obviously does not know Draco,” Lucius commented to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort scowled. “Apparently not. Where are my missing Death Eaters? Where is Fenrir Greyback?”

“Prisoner of the Order of the Phoenix,” Percy replied. “Fenrir is locked up at Hogwarts.”

“Wormtail? The Carrows?”

“The same. All together.”

Voldemort steepled his fingers together.

“Excellent. Snape, throw Weasley into the pit. But gently—we may yet have a use for him.”

---

Nii, nüüd on siis selle lookesega kõik, loodan, et see meeldis teile ! Varsti loodan panna uue fic´i üles, nii et on mida oodata...loodetavasti

[Hanna Mia Sunrose]

Väga armas!
Ohh.
Et siis jah ... loodetavasti on järgmine sama hea.[/i]

[Liz-Miia Parker]

Wow. Wow. Wow !!!

Hästi hea oli, kiidusõnad autorile (Y).

[Lissandra Sylvania]

Jap, loodestavasti

[Lana Marye Allen]

Lahe oli see jutt tõesti !

[Julia Darline Evans]

“Go f**k yourself,” Lucius said harshly. , see oli eriti äge osa nah

[Lana Marye Allen]

Haha! Oli jah