Chapter 30 — Deal With the Devil
“Are you mad Jon?!”
Ginny’s heart jumped at the sudden shout. It came from behind the door that stood between her and where Pierce and Snape talked…or argued, by the sound of it. She swallowed hard, forcing back tears; she couldn’t remember ever feeling so scared or so completely helpless, trapped in a full body-bind while two Death Eaters debated her fate. She didn’t even have a wand. Pierce had made sure to take that right off.
She was so stupid! She should have listened to Draco; she should have been more careful! How could she let Pierce maneuver her next to a fireplace? The danger never even crossed her mind, and now look where she was. Some part of her never quite believed the man would try anything on school grounds, but obviously Pierce had more daring in him that she would have credited him with. Or more stupidity, in any event. It wasn’t as if no one would notice her missing: someone would have to find her eventually.
She hoped.
Pierce’s calmer voice drifted around the door, but he spoke too quietly for the words to actually break through the heavy wood and reach her. Snape’s volume bore no such restrictions.
“They’ll track her right to my door! In case you’ve forgotten, I’m in hiding!”
Some more muffled words from Pierce.
Then Snape bellowed, “That’s the point, Jon! You shouldn’t have taken her in the first place! What were you thinking?”
Under different circumstances, and out of the body-bind, Ginny might have smiled hearing Pierce scolded like a child. Still, she knew Snape wasn’t at the peak of his temper just yet. His voice got deadly soft when that happened, she remembered.
Suddenly the door flew open, and for the first time in almost a year, Ginny looked on the waxy-skinned face of her former Potions professor. His hooked beak of a nose protruded more prominent than ever between hollow cheeks and lank, greasy hair. She recoiled inwardly, wishing more than ever she could break from the body-bind.
“Miss Weasley.” His voice was thin and cold as ice, sounding for all the world like she had just answered a question incorrectly in class. “It seems you’re to be my guest.”
She could not speak, so she only swallowed. Snape regarded her silently a few moments with Pierce at his back.
The latter, apparently growing impatient, muttered, “She’s not going to disappear if you just wish it badly enough, you know.”
Snape whirled on him. “Jon, go back to the castle before someone notices you’re missing. You can’t afford to have any evidence against you.”
Pierce stared fiercely at Snape a moment, but grudgingly nodded. Those friendly, hazel eyes shifted to Ginny then, and he treated her to his most boyish grin. “Sorry about the inconvenience, Miss Weasley.” He walked over to gently touch her cheek, and it was all Ginny could do not to retch. “But if it’s any consolation, I originally planned to kill you. Considering that, your current circumstances aren’t so bad. It’s all about perspective, really.”
He flashed another bright smile then, and giving her a last pat on the head, turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Snape watched it all with a frown, shaking his head when Pierce was out of sight.
Then his black gaze fell on her, and he sighed. “I always did prefer you over the rest of your wretched lot.”
Before Ginny could fully process the statement or make any kind of sense out of it, he strode over, snatched up her arm in an iron grip, and released her from the body-bind. The instant the thoughts of struggling entered her mind, though, his fingers tightened painfully around her arm, and a wand jammed in between her shoulder blades.
“Try anything, and Dumbledore’s fate will seem a kindness,” he growled.
Ginny bit the inside of her cheek and stayed still.
He jerked her out of the chair with surprising strength and half dragged her down a series of winding halls. Panic took her a little more with every step. He was taking her somewhere to be locked up, there was no doubt in her mind. If that happened….
She had to escape now. It was her only chance. What would the twins think, seeing her herded meekly along like some scared little girl? She wished she had a wand, but there was no helping that now. So heart pounding, Ginny suddenly tensed and yanked her arm with all her might, throwing her whole body into the motion.
Snape hissed a curse as her arm tore free of his grasp, but Ginny didn’t have time for triumph. She simply kept turning in one fluid motion and darted back the way they’d come, a burst of adrenaline propelling her forward. A thrumming elation filled her. She was going to make it; she was a runner of several years, small and quick, but he was just an awkward, aging man. He would never catch her.
It never occurred to her that he wouldn’t have to — not until she felt the stunner slam in between her shoulder blades, sending her sprawling defenseless onto her hands and knees. His boot heels echoed harshly against stone as he swept up and took her arm in a bruising hold. When he spoke, his voice came out deadly soft, and Ginny knew he was furious.
“That was stupid, Weasley. Very, very stupid.”
He said nothing more, but when he yanked her roughly to her feet, he didn’t continue in the direction they’d been going. He turned them around and started heading by a different route, this time through halls moving ever downwards until finally he paused before a heavy, iron-reinforced wood door that sent a chill dancing down Ginny’s spine. He murmured a word she couldn’t hear, touching the tip of his wand to center of the door, and it swung open.
The halls of Snape Estate had been some kind of cherry wood up to this point, but now he pulled her stumbling into a long, dimly lit hall of cold, hard stone, damp and smelling faintly of mildew. She wrinkled up her nose and felt her stomach drop. Oh, God, what did I get myself into? He was taking me somewhere better…
He marched her to the end of that dismal stretch, unlocked another door at the end, and pushed her through into a vast cave of a room, still all of stone but at least it seemed less…dank. The ceiling here jumped from nearly brushing the top of Snape’s head to a soaring thing several stories up, and a huge cell with thick iron bars sat in front of them. The dungeon had one window, high and high up, but sunlight gushed through it to make the space less glum.
“Lawson,” Snape barked.
Ginny glanced up, startled and confused, then noticed something move from the corner of her eyes. She jumped, feeling and ignoring Snape’s fingers tighten on her arm in response, as a person — a woman — straightened from against the wall.
“You’ve got a flatmate, now,” he told the woman, ignoring Ginny’s surprise. Then he took out an ancient looking skeleton key, unlocked the cell door with a series of echoing clangs, and shoved Ginny through. “I’m sure you’ll become fast friends.” He locked the cell back up and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Ginny ran at the bars as he was leaving, wrapping her fingers around cold, rusting iron and screaming, “Snape! You coward, get back here! Give me a wand and fight me! Or are you too afraid?!” Ginny remembered Harry saying something about him exploding at being called coward. Maybe if she could provoke him enough…
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” The woman behind her was slouched against the wall again, watching her with mild interest. “He would win.”
Ginny glared at her. “You obviously don’t know me.”
“No, but I’ve known him since school. He was one of the best at the duel back when he was your age. By now he’s had a lot more practice…and a lot more help from the Black arts.” She smiled bitterly. “He would win.”
Ginny sank to her knees, letting her forehead fall against the bars. Without turning, she asked dully, “So who are you, anyway?”
The woman hesitated before answering. “My name is Naomi. Yours?”
“Ginny.”
“You look like a child.”
Ginny tensed in annoyance. “I’m in my sixth year.”
“A child,” Naomi confirmed.
Ginny turned around to study the woman better. There was nothing incredibly extraordinary about her — brown hair, neither light nor dark, brown eyes, no distinctive facial features. No, nothing made her beautiful, though she was a far cry from ugly, and yet something made her stand out. Maybe it was that voice. Even as Naomi’s words annoyed Ginny, her voice had a certain flowing quality that compelled her to listen.
“You don’t look so old yourself,” Ginny observed.
The woman laughed, a sound like chimes in the breeze. “Either you’re lying or time decided to take pity on me. About time somebody did.” She smiled again, but the expression had that same sad, bitter edge to it. “I’m not as young as I look, and I’m even older than my years, unfortunately.”
Ginny sat back against the bars. The iron dug a little uncomfortably into her back, but she didn’t mind; she needed something to distract her, or else she might break down completely. “If we’re playing that game, then I’m a hundred at least.”
Naomi’s mild brown eyes scrutinized her for a long moment, then she gave a slow nod. In that gently persuasive voice of hers, she murmured, “Yes, I believe that.”
Ginny blinked, a little surprised and a little unsettled. What had the woman seen on her face? She changed the subject. “What are you doing here, anyway? I don’t remember ever seeing you at Headquarters.”
Naomi tilted her head. “Headquarters?”
“The Order. I’ve never met you, and I’ve spent a lot of time with them.”
“You’re talking about the Order of the Phoenix? Why do you assume I’m with them?”
“Why else would Snape have you locked in his dungeon?”
Naomi turned her face away. “There are other reasons.” She hesitated. “I loved someone, a long time ago. But I love someone now, too. Just differently. I couldn’t protect both, and,” she shrugged, “Snape didn’t like my decision.”
Ginny felt like pointing out that the explanation didn’t really answer anything, but kept quiet. Ginny found she sort of liked Naomi, despite the “child” comments right at first. Something in the way the woman held herself encouraged a certain affinity to her, and she had a tragic quality that demanded sympathy. So she just replied, “Oh.”
Naomi smiled faintly. “And you? I’m assuming the Order hasn’t started recruiting girls your age as spies. At least not yet.”
Ginny opened her mouth to spill the whole story, but hesitated at the last moment. Didn’t Draco teach her anything? She may feel she could trust Naomi, but what proof did she have? And if Pierce taught her anything as her professor, it was to have proof before believing anyone. So instead she answered, “I…cared about someone too. But he was in the wrong crowd. I guess I got in over my head.”
Naomi smiled knowingly. “Oh, let me guess. You are from Hogwarts, yeah?” At Ginny’s nod, she continued, “So you’re either a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor, or maybe a Hufflepuff, but you fell for a Slytherin because he was so different from all the rest of them. But his past came back to haunt him, and that’s why you’re here. Am I wrong?”
Ginny stared. “How…?”
Naomi laughed again, still a pleasant sound but a tired one too. More like an attempt to cling to sanity than a show of mirth. “Because — Ginny, did you say? Because, Ginny. You’re me.”
Ginny’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “I’m…what?”
“Ravenclaw here,” Naomi raised her hand, “but I gave my heart to a goofy, fun-loving Slytherin with laughing eyes.” She gave a wry smile, a far-off look in her eyes. “Definitely not your average snake. He swept me away, but…I guess he got swept away too. Only not by me.”
Ginny drew her knees up to her chest. “By what, then?”
“Just like your fellow. His past caught up with him. Only, he saw it coming and pushed me away before it could catch me too.” The next she said almost to herself. “I couldn’t see it then. But now…” she glanced at her surroundings, “well, look at where I am. He was right.”
“But…you said he pushed you away…”
Naomi sighed. “Yes, well, as it turns out, my past caught up with me too.”
Ginny didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she could see Naomi did not want to share anymore. She kept silent, but her mind worked furiously. Naomi’s tale, vague as it was, meant one incredibly important thing: she wasn’t alone in this. Someone else before her had crossed that invisible line into Slytherin territory.
And look where you both are, some voice whispered in her head. Doesn’t that tell you something about why the line is there in the first place?
“Do you think it was a mistake?” Ginny suddenly asked.
Naomi blinked, torn from whatever musings she had sunk into. “What do you mean?”
“Loving that Slytherin boy when you were in school. Do you think it was a mistake? Wasn’t there anyone else?”
Naomi frowned. “I didn’t have any other potential boyfriends lined up, if that’s what you mean, but there were other people. I could have found someone, I’m sure.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t want someone, not even someone who I actually quite liked. I wanted the one. He was the one. Was it a mistake?” Again, she shrugged. “I can’t say that it was.”
“But…you’re in a dungeon.”
“And hopefully I’ll get out of it soon. But if not…” she seemed to grapple with her words, “everyone will die, Ginny. It’s not the when that matters. It’s what you did before the when. And I have loved, and I truly believe I’ve been loved. If it wasn’t for…a responsibility I still have…I would have no regrets at all.”
Ginny studied her skeptically. “None?”
Naomi leaned forward, plain brown eyes suddenly intense. “Did you give in?”
“What?”
“To him. Did you give in, drop every barrier between the two of you? Or did you worry about right and wrong and resist? Did you try to keep even a part of yourself protected?”
Ginny stuttered over her words a minute before managing, “I…uh…no, I mean, not completely…”
Naomi leaned back again, looking sad. “If we ever get out of here, do it. Don’t make my mistake. You can never bring back the past. And no matter what happiness you find, it will never compare, and you’ll never forgive yourself for losing it…for losing him.”
There were tears on Naomi’s cheeks…and Ginny had a lot to think about.
- - - - -
“One more smart arse look and I swear you’ll be spewing slugs.”
Nott raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say a word.” He paused. “But now that you bring it up, did I mention that you make a truly fabulous girl?”
Draco glared, feeling ridiculous as he walked up to the castle in the Hufflepuff girl’s pilfered uniform. But the last of his Polyjuice had still contained “Lizzy’s” hair, and so he’d swallowed it down along with an incredible amount of pride.
“Still didn’t have to make me a Hufflepuff,” Draco grumbled.
Nott smirked. “They’re the easiest to intimidate. Can you imagine what a Gryffindor would’ve done if I’d started ordering her to give me her clothes?”
“And you’re sure this Hufflepuff bint’s going to keep her mouth shut?”
“I think she might have had an accident in her knickers, she was so scared of me. I do believe we’re safe.”
Draco sighed and tried to run his hand through his hair, only to find there was far too much of it. He made a face and untangled his fingers, ignoring Nott’s smirk. One more, he promised himself. One more and the git is spewing slugs.
It felt odd walking through the massive oaken doors to the Entrance Hall again, almost like returning for a new year after a long summer. And just like on those occasions, he felt a vaguely sick feeling settle in his stomach, weighing heavy as a stone. He had to be fast. If he got caught, if the Polyjuice wore off too soon, it was Ginny’s life on the line.
“So where is this place?” Draco tried to ignore the strange pitch in his now female voice.
“Up and up and through a few good twists and turns for good measure.” Nott glanced down at him, a good head taller after Draco’s Polyjuice transformation. “Considering the time constraints you’re under, you may want to run.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Excellent idea, but maybe I needed to phrase my question like this: take me there now.”
Nott arched an eyebrow slightly. “Pushy, pushy.” The vague sounds of argument floated down through the hall. Draco cocked his head to listen, but Nott just ignored it all together. “You know, you’re not being very graci—”
Draco slapped a hand over Nott’s mouth and grabbed his wrist, yanking him behind one of the Entrance Hall’s giant suits of armor. Nott made a few muffled noises of protest until Draco kicked him in the shin and pointed.
Harry Potter was storming down the steps, face a cloud of anger. Draco could feel Nott tense in obvious amazement, but when the other Slytherin looked down at him, Draco only shook his head and raised a finger to his lips.
“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall appeared seconds later, keeping her voice a low hiss. “Get back here this instant!”
Potter spun, making no such efforts to lower his voice. “Ginny is missing!” He rubbed at his scar as if it pained him. “I can’t just leave her to Voldemort and hope she comes back with all of her limbs still attached!”
Draco cringed at the prospect, but McGonagall only set her mouth in a thin line.
“Mr. Potter,” she said, voice calm but brooking no room for nonsense. “We are doing everything in our power — ”
“I don’t see any Aurors storming any hideouts! No search missions, no nothing! We’re just sitting!”
“We’re investigating,” the Headmistress snapped. “We don’t know that this was an action on Lord Voldemort’s part yet.”
Potter crossed his arms. “Oh? And what’s you’re theory, what the students are all saying? That she ran away to find me?” He narrowed green eyes at the old woman. “Somehow I find that unlikely.”
McGonagall advanced on him then, her own thin face a cold, hard mask, but her eyes at least appearing softer, betraying some sympathy. “I understand what you are feeling — ”
“Oh, you’re in love with her too, are you?”
Draco didn’t realize he was digging his nails into Nott’s wrist until the other boy kicked his angle and glared as he wrenched free.
McGonagall ignored that. “ — But we cannot just rush into something blindly. Did you learn nothing after Sirius?”
For one split second Draco was positive Potter would actually hit the woman. Then all the strength seemed to drain from him at once; his shoulders sagged.
“But…Ginny…”
“Will return unharmed. But you bulling out with no plan and no idea helps no one. You only risk both your lives. Now, please, get back to your quarters before you are seen. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley will be waiting.” She glanced around and muttered, “We’re lucky no one’s stumbled on us yet.”
Potter nodded dully, dragging his feet back towards the stairs. “How much longer do I have to hide away like this? I’m going mad just waiting. Hermione and Ron, too.”
Their voices began to fade, but Draco thought he heard McGonagall say something about finding the object’s function and something about properties or thereabouts. He dismissed it, whatever she said, more concerned about the fact that not even Potter or McGonagall knew what happened. Nott interrupted his thoughts.
“Potter is back?”
Draco sighed tiredly. “Has been. Now take me to this room.”
Nott shook his head. “Wait, so you’ve known. How long?”
“I don’t know. Since the last time I saw Ginny.”
Nott stared, then lifted one corner of his mouth in mocking amusement. “You found out…when you were with her?”
“Just shut it and take me to the room.”
“And judging by Potter’s determination to find her, I’m guessing she didn’t exactly tell him to go bugger himself.”
Draco had his wand drawn and trained between Nott’s eyes in an instant. “Take me to the room, or wish you had. I don’t have the time to play bloody games.”
A tense moment passed, then Nott slowly produced his half-smile and pushed Draco’s wand aside. Softly, he said, “Well, in that case, let’s get going.”
Draco watched him warily for several seconds before jogging after Nott and his long strides. And his Housemate hadn’t been lying — the room was up and up and up, with more than just a few good twists and turns. But eventually they stopped in front of a battered old wooden door.
“This is it?” Draco asked doubtfully.
“It is.” Nott kicked the door open and led him into a room with only the one wall behind them. The rest was a great semicircle of windows, flooding in sunshine and offering a rambling view of the grounds below.
Draco considered himself probably the least sentimental person on the planet, but the view took even his breath away. He hardly noticed when his now obnoxiously long hair fell in his face again. “Why wouldn’t Ginny tell me about this?”
“Because,” Nott grunted from the floor as he tugged up a loose stone, “she probably didn’t want you finding out about this.” And he lifted out a candle.
Draco raised his eyebrows. “A candle. That was her big secret. A…candle.”
Nott smiled. “Not just any candle. This particular one shows you things.”
Draco frowned and came forward, crouching down beside Nott. He muttered a curse under his breath when his skirt got all tangled up around his legs, but he managed to tame the thing and take the candle from Nott’s hand. “You mean the future?”
“Well…no. It’s the present, I think.”
“You think?”
Nott shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what it is. It’s not like I had a chat with darling Weasley about it. I just followed her up here one day, and when she left, I found it and saw things.”
“Saw what things?”
Nott was as nonchalant as ever, but Draco could somehow sense the discomfort emanating around him. “People. But it seemed to be the present.”
“You think it will show me Ginny,” Draco realized.
Nott shrugged. “Or it won’t, and this was a waste of time and potion.” His half-smile surfaced. “Only one way to find out.”
Draco shot him an annoyed look and held the thing up before him. He squinted his eyes at the wick. “So how does it work?”
But before Nott could answer, the wick burst to life, and Draco found himself staring into a flame. The fire played a hypnotic game with his mind, and soon he could not look away, drawn into the crimson and orange dance.
Then blackness dropped onto him. He felt like he was choking, but couldn’t feel his throat, couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t the black of night or even of underground, but of sheer nothingness unlike anything he had ever experienced before. No up or down or gravity or beginnings or ends — just utter, crushing, maddening oblivion.
And then he was in a room. Just like that, with no transition at all. One minute the weight of nonexistence pressing all around him, and the next he was standing in a cavernous space all of stone with a single window high above letting in a gray trickle of light. And there sat Ginny, back against the wall next to a brown-haired woman he didn’t know.
“Ginny,” he exhaled in relief. She didn’t glance up, and confused, he tried again. “Ginny. Ginny, are you okay?” He did a quick survey of the room and found a wall of bars behind him. He frowned, trying to remember where he had seen this place before.
“So he brings three meals a day?” Ginny asked.
Draco shouted this time, “Ginny!”
Neither woman blinked. The brown-haired one nodded. “Not much variety, but you won’t go hungry.” She forced a weak smile. “There are worse places to be held prisoner.”
Ginny nodded absently, her eyes studying the room. When her gaze got to him, though, it passed right through. Draco realized then that this was a one-way deal, and she was oblivious to him. He cursed under his breath.
“So couldn’t we just…I don’t know. Knock him down when he brings supper and run?”
The older woman smiled dryly. “We could…if he was thick enough to open the door when we were anywhere near it. And if he wasn’t so strong. And if we had wands.”
“Maybe…maybe we could trick him somehow. Into letting us go.”
The woman laughed then. “Ginny, this is Severus Snape.”
Then Draco knew immediately where he was and couldn’t believe he hadn’t gotten it sooner. Snape’s dungeon. He’d found the thing ages ago during one of his father’s many meetings.
Ginny opened her mouth as if to respond, but the sound of a door opening silenced her. Draco spun around to see, but when he did the flame on the candle sputtered out, and as abrupt as it left, the crushing oblivion swallowed him whole again.
This time the blackness seemed to last an eternity before it spit him back out panting on his hands and knees in the tower room, windows on all sides.
Nott leaned back against the windows, arms folded over his chest. He looked amused. “Nice knickers.”
Draco stared for a minute, then realized his skirt had somehow gotten hiked up and yanked it back down again in annoyance.
Nott pushed away from the window. “So?”
Draco tossed the candle to the ground and strode towards the door. “Snape’s got her.”
Nott jogged to catch up. “So where do you think you’re going?”
“To see Pierce.” When Draco opened the door, his hand looked far too big for the slender wrist it was attached to, and far too manly. He smiled grimly. Perfect, the potion should last just long enough to get him to the dungeons.
“Pierce?”
Draco looked at Nott with a grim half-smile of his own. “I think it’s past time I took my Dark Mark, don’t you?”
He didn’t wait to see Nott’s reaction, only turned and kept jogging down the long route back to the main floor. His hair already felt lighter, meaning it was growing shorter, and the muscles on his forearm stood out a bit too starkly for a girl’s slenderer build. He jogged faster, his breath coming in soft puffs, while Nott’s footsteps echoed along behind him.
By the time he cleared the last step down to the Entrance Hall, it looked like someone had attached body builder’s arms to a female with surprisingly short hair. Praying he would not meet anyone along the way, he pivoted towards the dungeons.
“Your face,” he heard Nott hiss from behind. “It’s yours again.”
Draco nodded without turning around. The potion was almost out of his system now. It would only take a few more minutes, if that. He broke into a run.
He was outside Pierce’s door when the pain hit. He doubled over to his knees, his head pulsing and his stomach roiling to the point he thought he might retch. His fingers dug into the wall and the floor until finally the feeling subsided, and exhaling slowly, he rose again as his old self.
Nott snorted.
Draco glanced back, confused. “What?”
The other Slytherin was obviously having a very hard time containing his laughter. “Just thinking that outfit looks even better on you now than before.”
Draco glanced down and swore, probably a bit louder than was wise. He still wore a Hufflepuff girl’s uniform, complete with skirt. He narrowed his eyes at Nott’s smirking face. “Give me your clothes.”
“Pardon?”
“Your clothes. Take them off, and hand them over. We’re about the same size, yeah?”
Nott folded his arms. “And why, pray, would I do that?”
“Because I can’t risk being seen walking into the common room, or waiting in the hallway waiting for you to go to the common room, and I cannot speak to Pierce in a bloody skirt!”
“I still don’t quite understand why you’re speaking to Pierce at all.”
Draco closed his eyes, forcing himself to count to three. “No one’s going to just let me waltz into Snape Estate for a tour. If I go in, it’s got to be as one of them. There’s no other option. Now give me your damned clothes before someone comes along and sees!”
Nott raised his eyebrows. “And I’ll just, what, stand around out here in the skirt instead?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Walk back into the common room in your knickers, for all I care. If anyone sees you before you can get more clothes, just look at them in that psychopath way you’ve so perfected. I guarantee they won’t say a word.”
Nott kept frowning, and feeling the seconds tick by almost like a physical pain, Draco snapped, “Listen, Nott, every second you’re standing around calculating the humiliation factor in this for you, Ginny is rotting in some prison, and you can live the rest of your life with the guilt that you not only accepted the Mark and did horrible things for it, you let down the one person you tried to help. Your life will be worthless. You’ll be less than nothing.”
For several long seconds Nott stared at him so stony faced, with eyes so hard Draco seriously considered reaching for his wand, just in case. He had forgotten who he was dealing with. Nott was on his side, but it was like working with unstable explosives. They might be there to help you, but handled without the utmost care, and they would blow up in your face.
Draco took a deep breath. “Nott, I — ”
Nott cut him off, voice cold. “Malfoy? Shut the hell up.” Then he stripped off tie, shirt, and pants and tossed them into a heap at Draco’s feet. Dressed only in boxers and socks, he still managed to look cool and dignified as he strolled back towards the common room, his face remaining hard and dark. Draco doubted anyone would dare say anything even if they saw.
Shaking his head, Draco quickly tore off the ridiculously tight Hufflepuff uniform and tugged on Nott’s discarded one. He discovered the other boy was actually a little taller, and quite a bit broader in the shoulders and hips, but anything was better than a skirt. Draco closed his eyes to prepare himself, allowing steel determination to take over.
Then, knowing he was about to make a deal with the devil, he knocked on Pierce’s door.
“Are you mad Jon?!”
Ginny’s heart jumped at the sudden shout. It came from behind the door that stood between her and where Pierce and Snape talked…or argued, by the sound of it. She swallowed hard, forcing back tears; she couldn’t remember ever feeling so scared or so completely helpless, trapped in a full body-bind while two Death Eaters debated her fate. She didn’t even have a wand. Pierce had made sure to take that right off.
She was so stupid! She should have listened to Draco; she should have been more careful! How could she let Pierce maneuver her next to a fireplace? The danger never even crossed her mind, and now look where she was. Some part of her never quite believed the man would try anything on school grounds, but obviously Pierce had more daring in him that she would have credited him with. Or more stupidity, in any event. It wasn’t as if no one would notice her missing: someone would have to find her eventually.
She hoped.
Pierce’s calmer voice drifted around the door, but he spoke too quietly for the words to actually break through the heavy wood and reach her. Snape’s volume bore no such restrictions.
“They’ll track her right to my door! In case you’ve forgotten, I’m in hiding!”
Some more muffled words from Pierce.
Then Snape bellowed, “That’s the point, Jon! You shouldn’t have taken her in the first place! What were you thinking?”
Under different circumstances, and out of the body-bind, Ginny might have smiled hearing Pierce scolded like a child. Still, she knew Snape wasn’t at the peak of his temper just yet. His voice got deadly soft when that happened, she remembered.
Suddenly the door flew open, and for the first time in almost a year, Ginny looked on the waxy-skinned face of her former Potions professor. His hooked beak of a nose protruded more prominent than ever between hollow cheeks and lank, greasy hair. She recoiled inwardly, wishing more than ever she could break from the body-bind.
“Miss Weasley.” His voice was thin and cold as ice, sounding for all the world like she had just answered a question incorrectly in class. “It seems you’re to be my guest.”
She could not speak, so she only swallowed. Snape regarded her silently a few moments with Pierce at his back.
The latter, apparently growing impatient, muttered, “She’s not going to disappear if you just wish it badly enough, you know.”
Snape whirled on him. “Jon, go back to the castle before someone notices you’re missing. You can’t afford to have any evidence against you.”
Pierce stared fiercely at Snape a moment, but grudgingly nodded. Those friendly, hazel eyes shifted to Ginny then, and he treated her to his most boyish grin. “Sorry about the inconvenience, Miss Weasley.” He walked over to gently touch her cheek, and it was all Ginny could do not to retch. “But if it’s any consolation, I originally planned to kill you. Considering that, your current circumstances aren’t so bad. It’s all about perspective, really.”
He flashed another bright smile then, and giving her a last pat on the head, turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Snape watched it all with a frown, shaking his head when Pierce was out of sight.
Then his black gaze fell on her, and he sighed. “I always did prefer you over the rest of your wretched lot.”
Before Ginny could fully process the statement or make any kind of sense out of it, he strode over, snatched up her arm in an iron grip, and released her from the body-bind. The instant the thoughts of struggling entered her mind, though, his fingers tightened painfully around her arm, and a wand jammed in between her shoulder blades.
“Try anything, and Dumbledore’s fate will seem a kindness,” he growled.
Ginny bit the inside of her cheek and stayed still.
He jerked her out of the chair with surprising strength and half dragged her down a series of winding halls. Panic took her a little more with every step. He was taking her somewhere to be locked up, there was no doubt in her mind. If that happened….
She had to escape now. It was her only chance. What would the twins think, seeing her herded meekly along like some scared little girl? She wished she had a wand, but there was no helping that now. So heart pounding, Ginny suddenly tensed and yanked her arm with all her might, throwing her whole body into the motion.
Snape hissed a curse as her arm tore free of his grasp, but Ginny didn’t have time for triumph. She simply kept turning in one fluid motion and darted back the way they’d come, a burst of adrenaline propelling her forward. A thrumming elation filled her. She was going to make it; she was a runner of several years, small and quick, but he was just an awkward, aging man. He would never catch her.
It never occurred to her that he wouldn’t have to — not until she felt the stunner slam in between her shoulder blades, sending her sprawling defenseless onto her hands and knees. His boot heels echoed harshly against stone as he swept up and took her arm in a bruising hold. When he spoke, his voice came out deadly soft, and Ginny knew he was furious.
“That was stupid, Weasley. Very, very stupid.”
He said nothing more, but when he yanked her roughly to her feet, he didn’t continue in the direction they’d been going. He turned them around and started heading by a different route, this time through halls moving ever downwards until finally he paused before a heavy, iron-reinforced wood door that sent a chill dancing down Ginny’s spine. He murmured a word she couldn’t hear, touching the tip of his wand to center of the door, and it swung open.
The halls of Snape Estate had been some kind of cherry wood up to this point, but now he pulled her stumbling into a long, dimly lit hall of cold, hard stone, damp and smelling faintly of mildew. She wrinkled up her nose and felt her stomach drop. Oh, God, what did I get myself into? He was taking me somewhere better…
He marched her to the end of that dismal stretch, unlocked another door at the end, and pushed her through into a vast cave of a room, still all of stone but at least it seemed less…dank. The ceiling here jumped from nearly brushing the top of Snape’s head to a soaring thing several stories up, and a huge cell with thick iron bars sat in front of them. The dungeon had one window, high and high up, but sunlight gushed through it to make the space less glum.
“Lawson,” Snape barked.
Ginny glanced up, startled and confused, then noticed something move from the corner of her eyes. She jumped, feeling and ignoring Snape’s fingers tighten on her arm in response, as a person — a woman — straightened from against the wall.
“You’ve got a flatmate, now,” he told the woman, ignoring Ginny’s surprise. Then he took out an ancient looking skeleton key, unlocked the cell door with a series of echoing clangs, and shoved Ginny through. “I’m sure you’ll become fast friends.” He locked the cell back up and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Ginny ran at the bars as he was leaving, wrapping her fingers around cold, rusting iron and screaming, “Snape! You coward, get back here! Give me a wand and fight me! Or are you too afraid?!” Ginny remembered Harry saying something about him exploding at being called coward. Maybe if she could provoke him enough…
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” The woman behind her was slouched against the wall again, watching her with mild interest. “He would win.”
Ginny glared at her. “You obviously don’t know me.”
“No, but I’ve known him since school. He was one of the best at the duel back when he was your age. By now he’s had a lot more practice…and a lot more help from the Black arts.” She smiled bitterly. “He would win.”
Ginny sank to her knees, letting her forehead fall against the bars. Without turning, she asked dully, “So who are you, anyway?”
The woman hesitated before answering. “My name is Naomi. Yours?”
“Ginny.”
“You look like a child.”
Ginny tensed in annoyance. “I’m in my sixth year.”
“A child,” Naomi confirmed.
Ginny turned around to study the woman better. There was nothing incredibly extraordinary about her — brown hair, neither light nor dark, brown eyes, no distinctive facial features. No, nothing made her beautiful, though she was a far cry from ugly, and yet something made her stand out. Maybe it was that voice. Even as Naomi’s words annoyed Ginny, her voice had a certain flowing quality that compelled her to listen.
“You don’t look so old yourself,” Ginny observed.
The woman laughed, a sound like chimes in the breeze. “Either you’re lying or time decided to take pity on me. About time somebody did.” She smiled again, but the expression had that same sad, bitter edge to it. “I’m not as young as I look, and I’m even older than my years, unfortunately.”
Ginny sat back against the bars. The iron dug a little uncomfortably into her back, but she didn’t mind; she needed something to distract her, or else she might break down completely. “If we’re playing that game, then I’m a hundred at least.”
Naomi’s mild brown eyes scrutinized her for a long moment, then she gave a slow nod. In that gently persuasive voice of hers, she murmured, “Yes, I believe that.”
Ginny blinked, a little surprised and a little unsettled. What had the woman seen on her face? She changed the subject. “What are you doing here, anyway? I don’t remember ever seeing you at Headquarters.”
Naomi tilted her head. “Headquarters?”
“The Order. I’ve never met you, and I’ve spent a lot of time with them.”
“You’re talking about the Order of the Phoenix? Why do you assume I’m with them?”
“Why else would Snape have you locked in his dungeon?”
Naomi turned her face away. “There are other reasons.” She hesitated. “I loved someone, a long time ago. But I love someone now, too. Just differently. I couldn’t protect both, and,” she shrugged, “Snape didn’t like my decision.”
Ginny felt like pointing out that the explanation didn’t really answer anything, but kept quiet. Ginny found she sort of liked Naomi, despite the “child” comments right at first. Something in the way the woman held herself encouraged a certain affinity to her, and she had a tragic quality that demanded sympathy. So she just replied, “Oh.”
Naomi smiled faintly. “And you? I’m assuming the Order hasn’t started recruiting girls your age as spies. At least not yet.”
Ginny opened her mouth to spill the whole story, but hesitated at the last moment. Didn’t Draco teach her anything? She may feel she could trust Naomi, but what proof did she have? And if Pierce taught her anything as her professor, it was to have proof before believing anyone. So instead she answered, “I…cared about someone too. But he was in the wrong crowd. I guess I got in over my head.”
Naomi smiled knowingly. “Oh, let me guess. You are from Hogwarts, yeah?” At Ginny’s nod, she continued, “So you’re either a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor, or maybe a Hufflepuff, but you fell for a Slytherin because he was so different from all the rest of them. But his past came back to haunt him, and that’s why you’re here. Am I wrong?”
Ginny stared. “How…?”
Naomi laughed again, still a pleasant sound but a tired one too. More like an attempt to cling to sanity than a show of mirth. “Because — Ginny, did you say? Because, Ginny. You’re me.”
Ginny’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “I’m…what?”
“Ravenclaw here,” Naomi raised her hand, “but I gave my heart to a goofy, fun-loving Slytherin with laughing eyes.” She gave a wry smile, a far-off look in her eyes. “Definitely not your average snake. He swept me away, but…I guess he got swept away too. Only not by me.”
Ginny drew her knees up to her chest. “By what, then?”
“Just like your fellow. His past caught up with him. Only, he saw it coming and pushed me away before it could catch me too.” The next she said almost to herself. “I couldn’t see it then. But now…” she glanced at her surroundings, “well, look at where I am. He was right.”
“But…you said he pushed you away…”
Naomi sighed. “Yes, well, as it turns out, my past caught up with me too.”
Ginny didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she could see Naomi did not want to share anymore. She kept silent, but her mind worked furiously. Naomi’s tale, vague as it was, meant one incredibly important thing: she wasn’t alone in this. Someone else before her had crossed that invisible line into Slytherin territory.
And look where you both are, some voice whispered in her head. Doesn’t that tell you something about why the line is there in the first place?
“Do you think it was a mistake?” Ginny suddenly asked.
Naomi blinked, torn from whatever musings she had sunk into. “What do you mean?”
“Loving that Slytherin boy when you were in school. Do you think it was a mistake? Wasn’t there anyone else?”
Naomi frowned. “I didn’t have any other potential boyfriends lined up, if that’s what you mean, but there were other people. I could have found someone, I’m sure.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t want someone, not even someone who I actually quite liked. I wanted the one. He was the one. Was it a mistake?” Again, she shrugged. “I can’t say that it was.”
“But…you’re in a dungeon.”
“And hopefully I’ll get out of it soon. But if not…” she seemed to grapple with her words, “everyone will die, Ginny. It’s not the when that matters. It’s what you did before the when. And I have loved, and I truly believe I’ve been loved. If it wasn’t for…a responsibility I still have…I would have no regrets at all.”
Ginny studied her skeptically. “None?”
Naomi leaned forward, plain brown eyes suddenly intense. “Did you give in?”
“What?”
“To him. Did you give in, drop every barrier between the two of you? Or did you worry about right and wrong and resist? Did you try to keep even a part of yourself protected?”
Ginny stuttered over her words a minute before managing, “I…uh…no, I mean, not completely…”
Naomi leaned back again, looking sad. “If we ever get out of here, do it. Don’t make my mistake. You can never bring back the past. And no matter what happiness you find, it will never compare, and you’ll never forgive yourself for losing it…for losing him.”
There were tears on Naomi’s cheeks…and Ginny had a lot to think about.
- - - - -
“One more smart arse look and I swear you’ll be spewing slugs.”
Nott raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say a word.” He paused. “But now that you bring it up, did I mention that you make a truly fabulous girl?”
Draco glared, feeling ridiculous as he walked up to the castle in the Hufflepuff girl’s pilfered uniform. But the last of his Polyjuice had still contained “Lizzy’s” hair, and so he’d swallowed it down along with an incredible amount of pride.
“Still didn’t have to make me a Hufflepuff,” Draco grumbled.
Nott smirked. “They’re the easiest to intimidate. Can you imagine what a Gryffindor would’ve done if I’d started ordering her to give me her clothes?”
“And you’re sure this Hufflepuff bint’s going to keep her mouth shut?”
“I think she might have had an accident in her knickers, she was so scared of me. I do believe we’re safe.”
Draco sighed and tried to run his hand through his hair, only to find there was far too much of it. He made a face and untangled his fingers, ignoring Nott’s smirk. One more, he promised himself. One more and the git is spewing slugs.
It felt odd walking through the massive oaken doors to the Entrance Hall again, almost like returning for a new year after a long summer. And just like on those occasions, he felt a vaguely sick feeling settle in his stomach, weighing heavy as a stone. He had to be fast. If he got caught, if the Polyjuice wore off too soon, it was Ginny’s life on the line.
“So where is this place?” Draco tried to ignore the strange pitch in his now female voice.
“Up and up and through a few good twists and turns for good measure.” Nott glanced down at him, a good head taller after Draco’s Polyjuice transformation. “Considering the time constraints you’re under, you may want to run.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Excellent idea, but maybe I needed to phrase my question like this: take me there now.”
Nott arched an eyebrow slightly. “Pushy, pushy.” The vague sounds of argument floated down through the hall. Draco cocked his head to listen, but Nott just ignored it all together. “You know, you’re not being very graci—”
Draco slapped a hand over Nott’s mouth and grabbed his wrist, yanking him behind one of the Entrance Hall’s giant suits of armor. Nott made a few muffled noises of protest until Draco kicked him in the shin and pointed.
Harry Potter was storming down the steps, face a cloud of anger. Draco could feel Nott tense in obvious amazement, but when the other Slytherin looked down at him, Draco only shook his head and raised a finger to his lips.
“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall appeared seconds later, keeping her voice a low hiss. “Get back here this instant!”
Potter spun, making no such efforts to lower his voice. “Ginny is missing!” He rubbed at his scar as if it pained him. “I can’t just leave her to Voldemort and hope she comes back with all of her limbs still attached!”
Draco cringed at the prospect, but McGonagall only set her mouth in a thin line.
“Mr. Potter,” she said, voice calm but brooking no room for nonsense. “We are doing everything in our power — ”
“I don’t see any Aurors storming any hideouts! No search missions, no nothing! We’re just sitting!”
“We’re investigating,” the Headmistress snapped. “We don’t know that this was an action on Lord Voldemort’s part yet.”
Potter crossed his arms. “Oh? And what’s you’re theory, what the students are all saying? That she ran away to find me?” He narrowed green eyes at the old woman. “Somehow I find that unlikely.”
McGonagall advanced on him then, her own thin face a cold, hard mask, but her eyes at least appearing softer, betraying some sympathy. “I understand what you are feeling — ”
“Oh, you’re in love with her too, are you?”
Draco didn’t realize he was digging his nails into Nott’s wrist until the other boy kicked his angle and glared as he wrenched free.
McGonagall ignored that. “ — But we cannot just rush into something blindly. Did you learn nothing after Sirius?”
For one split second Draco was positive Potter would actually hit the woman. Then all the strength seemed to drain from him at once; his shoulders sagged.
“But…Ginny…”
“Will return unharmed. But you bulling out with no plan and no idea helps no one. You only risk both your lives. Now, please, get back to your quarters before you are seen. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley will be waiting.” She glanced around and muttered, “We’re lucky no one’s stumbled on us yet.”
Potter nodded dully, dragging his feet back towards the stairs. “How much longer do I have to hide away like this? I’m going mad just waiting. Hermione and Ron, too.”
Their voices began to fade, but Draco thought he heard McGonagall say something about finding the object’s function and something about properties or thereabouts. He dismissed it, whatever she said, more concerned about the fact that not even Potter or McGonagall knew what happened. Nott interrupted his thoughts.
“Potter is back?”
Draco sighed tiredly. “Has been. Now take me to this room.”
Nott shook his head. “Wait, so you’ve known. How long?”
“I don’t know. Since the last time I saw Ginny.”
Nott stared, then lifted one corner of his mouth in mocking amusement. “You found out…when you were with her?”
“Just shut it and take me to the room.”
“And judging by Potter’s determination to find her, I’m guessing she didn’t exactly tell him to go bugger himself.”
Draco had his wand drawn and trained between Nott’s eyes in an instant. “Take me to the room, or wish you had. I don’t have the time to play bloody games.”
A tense moment passed, then Nott slowly produced his half-smile and pushed Draco’s wand aside. Softly, he said, “Well, in that case, let’s get going.”
Draco watched him warily for several seconds before jogging after Nott and his long strides. And his Housemate hadn’t been lying — the room was up and up and up, with more than just a few good twists and turns. But eventually they stopped in front of a battered old wooden door.
“This is it?” Draco asked doubtfully.
“It is.” Nott kicked the door open and led him into a room with only the one wall behind them. The rest was a great semicircle of windows, flooding in sunshine and offering a rambling view of the grounds below.
Draco considered himself probably the least sentimental person on the planet, but the view took even his breath away. He hardly noticed when his now obnoxiously long hair fell in his face again. “Why wouldn’t Ginny tell me about this?”
“Because,” Nott grunted from the floor as he tugged up a loose stone, “she probably didn’t want you finding out about this.” And he lifted out a candle.
Draco raised his eyebrows. “A candle. That was her big secret. A…candle.”
Nott smiled. “Not just any candle. This particular one shows you things.”
Draco frowned and came forward, crouching down beside Nott. He muttered a curse under his breath when his skirt got all tangled up around his legs, but he managed to tame the thing and take the candle from Nott’s hand. “You mean the future?”
“Well…no. It’s the present, I think.”
“You think?”
Nott shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what it is. It’s not like I had a chat with darling Weasley about it. I just followed her up here one day, and when she left, I found it and saw things.”
“Saw what things?”
Nott was as nonchalant as ever, but Draco could somehow sense the discomfort emanating around him. “People. But it seemed to be the present.”
“You think it will show me Ginny,” Draco realized.
Nott shrugged. “Or it won’t, and this was a waste of time and potion.” His half-smile surfaced. “Only one way to find out.”
Draco shot him an annoyed look and held the thing up before him. He squinted his eyes at the wick. “So how does it work?”
But before Nott could answer, the wick burst to life, and Draco found himself staring into a flame. The fire played a hypnotic game with his mind, and soon he could not look away, drawn into the crimson and orange dance.
Then blackness dropped onto him. He felt like he was choking, but couldn’t feel his throat, couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t the black of night or even of underground, but of sheer nothingness unlike anything he had ever experienced before. No up or down or gravity or beginnings or ends — just utter, crushing, maddening oblivion.
And then he was in a room. Just like that, with no transition at all. One minute the weight of nonexistence pressing all around him, and the next he was standing in a cavernous space all of stone with a single window high above letting in a gray trickle of light. And there sat Ginny, back against the wall next to a brown-haired woman he didn’t know.
“Ginny,” he exhaled in relief. She didn’t glance up, and confused, he tried again. “Ginny. Ginny, are you okay?” He did a quick survey of the room and found a wall of bars behind him. He frowned, trying to remember where he had seen this place before.
“So he brings three meals a day?” Ginny asked.
Draco shouted this time, “Ginny!”
Neither woman blinked. The brown-haired one nodded. “Not much variety, but you won’t go hungry.” She forced a weak smile. “There are worse places to be held prisoner.”
Ginny nodded absently, her eyes studying the room. When her gaze got to him, though, it passed right through. Draco realized then that this was a one-way deal, and she was oblivious to him. He cursed under his breath.
“So couldn’t we just…I don’t know. Knock him down when he brings supper and run?”
The older woman smiled dryly. “We could…if he was thick enough to open the door when we were anywhere near it. And if he wasn’t so strong. And if we had wands.”
“Maybe…maybe we could trick him somehow. Into letting us go.”
The woman laughed then. “Ginny, this is Severus Snape.”
Then Draco knew immediately where he was and couldn’t believe he hadn’t gotten it sooner. Snape’s dungeon. He’d found the thing ages ago during one of his father’s many meetings.
Ginny opened her mouth as if to respond, but the sound of a door opening silenced her. Draco spun around to see, but when he did the flame on the candle sputtered out, and as abrupt as it left, the crushing oblivion swallowed him whole again.
This time the blackness seemed to last an eternity before it spit him back out panting on his hands and knees in the tower room, windows on all sides.
Nott leaned back against the windows, arms folded over his chest. He looked amused. “Nice knickers.”
Draco stared for a minute, then realized his skirt had somehow gotten hiked up and yanked it back down again in annoyance.
Nott pushed away from the window. “So?”
Draco tossed the candle to the ground and strode towards the door. “Snape’s got her.”
Nott jogged to catch up. “So where do you think you’re going?”
“To see Pierce.” When Draco opened the door, his hand looked far too big for the slender wrist it was attached to, and far too manly. He smiled grimly. Perfect, the potion should last just long enough to get him to the dungeons.
“Pierce?”
Draco looked at Nott with a grim half-smile of his own. “I think it’s past time I took my Dark Mark, don’t you?”
He didn’t wait to see Nott’s reaction, only turned and kept jogging down the long route back to the main floor. His hair already felt lighter, meaning it was growing shorter, and the muscles on his forearm stood out a bit too starkly for a girl’s slenderer build. He jogged faster, his breath coming in soft puffs, while Nott’s footsteps echoed along behind him.
By the time he cleared the last step down to the Entrance Hall, it looked like someone had attached body builder’s arms to a female with surprisingly short hair. Praying he would not meet anyone along the way, he pivoted towards the dungeons.
“Your face,” he heard Nott hiss from behind. “It’s yours again.”
Draco nodded without turning around. The potion was almost out of his system now. It would only take a few more minutes, if that. He broke into a run.
He was outside Pierce’s door when the pain hit. He doubled over to his knees, his head pulsing and his stomach roiling to the point he thought he might retch. His fingers dug into the wall and the floor until finally the feeling subsided, and exhaling slowly, he rose again as his old self.
Nott snorted.
Draco glanced back, confused. “What?”
The other Slytherin was obviously having a very hard time containing his laughter. “Just thinking that outfit looks even better on you now than before.”
Draco glanced down and swore, probably a bit louder than was wise. He still wore a Hufflepuff girl’s uniform, complete with skirt. He narrowed his eyes at Nott’s smirking face. “Give me your clothes.”
“Pardon?”
“Your clothes. Take them off, and hand them over. We’re about the same size, yeah?”
Nott folded his arms. “And why, pray, would I do that?”
“Because I can’t risk being seen walking into the common room, or waiting in the hallway waiting for you to go to the common room, and I cannot speak to Pierce in a bloody skirt!”
“I still don’t quite understand why you’re speaking to Pierce at all.”
Draco closed his eyes, forcing himself to count to three. “No one’s going to just let me waltz into Snape Estate for a tour. If I go in, it’s got to be as one of them. There’s no other option. Now give me your damned clothes before someone comes along and sees!”
Nott raised his eyebrows. “And I’ll just, what, stand around out here in the skirt instead?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Walk back into the common room in your knickers, for all I care. If anyone sees you before you can get more clothes, just look at them in that psychopath way you’ve so perfected. I guarantee they won’t say a word.”
Nott kept frowning, and feeling the seconds tick by almost like a physical pain, Draco snapped, “Listen, Nott, every second you’re standing around calculating the humiliation factor in this for you, Ginny is rotting in some prison, and you can live the rest of your life with the guilt that you not only accepted the Mark and did horrible things for it, you let down the one person you tried to help. Your life will be worthless. You’ll be less than nothing.”
For several long seconds Nott stared at him so stony faced, with eyes so hard Draco seriously considered reaching for his wand, just in case. He had forgotten who he was dealing with. Nott was on his side, but it was like working with unstable explosives. They might be there to help you, but handled without the utmost care, and they would blow up in your face.
Draco took a deep breath. “Nott, I — ”
Nott cut him off, voice cold. “Malfoy? Shut the hell up.” Then he stripped off tie, shirt, and pants and tossed them into a heap at Draco’s feet. Dressed only in boxers and socks, he still managed to look cool and dignified as he strolled back towards the common room, his face remaining hard and dark. Draco doubted anyone would dare say anything even if they saw.
Shaking his head, Draco quickly tore off the ridiculously tight Hufflepuff uniform and tugged on Nott’s discarded one. He discovered the other boy was actually a little taller, and quite a bit broader in the shoulders and hips, but anything was better than a skirt. Draco closed his eyes to prepare himself, allowing steel determination to take over.
Then, knowing he was about to make a deal with the devil, he knocked on Pierce’s door.
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