Stigmata

Chapter Nine: The Last of the Furies

Draco looked up as the door opened and closed soundlessly. He smiled at the door; Harry had come to visit him.

The invisibility cloak slid off Harry's form, and he held a finger up to his lips as he leaned against the door, listening for the sounds of Madam Pomfrey. After a few moments, he relaxed, and made his way to the bed, sitting down in the chair next to it, cloak pooling in his lap.

"Very daring of you to come to visit me in the middle of the day," Draco whispered.

Harry shrugged. "What can I say? I enjoy breaking rules and such," he whispered back. "Are you feeling any adverse effects from last night?"

Draco shook his head. "Just a bit more tired than usual, but that's probably from the curse, not the Mark."

Harry nodded. "Good."

"So have you heard anything from the Vampires yet?" Draco asked as he leaned back against the pillows.

"Yes. They're sending a representative to speak to me tomorrow night."

"You don't believe that."

"No, there is too much power assembling. They're all going to convene. Whether they will all be present at my meeting with their representative, I don't know, but all of the elders will be in the Forbidden Forest tomorrow."

"Good. That will make things go faster."

Harry nodded. "Yes. Speed is of the essence right now. Things are beginning to move faster than I foresaw."

And it was true. Dumbledore was tracking down the next Horcrux as they spoke, and he expected Harry to speak to Slughorn about them soon. Voldemort's plans to kill Dumbledore were moving, as well, even though he was being infuriatingly quiet about them. And Mars, the planet which symbolized war, was rising in the sky. The very war for the Wizarding World was approaching faster than it had been expected.

"I'll have to get back to working on the cabinet, then," Draco whispered, his voice sounding relieved to be back on his old task.

"You don't have to do anything," Harry grinned, reaching over to tap the lightning bolt mark. "But, I think that we should make sure it works. It's part of the plan, so it has to be done by someone in Hogwarts."

"Don't worry, Harry, I'll get it. You just concentrate on fooling Dumbledore long enough for me to figure it out."

"Of course. Take your time."

"Well done" was the one line note which Hedwig delivered to Harry as he made his way to detention. A trickle of irritation fluttered down Harry's spine as he felt the letter char and smolder inside his clenched fist as tiny lightning bolts burned it to ashes.

Complimented for hurting Draco. He hadn't wanted to mar Draco in any way - and even though he had, he hadn't done it for Voldemort.

What a lovely mood for starting detention with Snape - the detention he'd earned when he'd attacked Draco. The detention placed conveniently over the last Quidditch game of the year. It actually had flowed quite nicely into Harry's latest scheme - involving Ginny - and he'd been almost cheerful about it until Hedwig had brought him Voldemort's latest missive.

It was probably all for the better, he thought. It wouldn't do for Snape to see him actually enjoying detention.

"Ah, Potter," said Snape, when Harry had knocked on his door and entered the unpleasantly familiar office; it was just as dimly lit as ever, and the same slimy dead objects were suspended in colored potions around the wall. Feeling a strange sense of accomplishment, Harry realized that he could probably recognize most of them now.