Marked

The Leverage

Chapter 27: The Leverage

"No," Draco said stiffly, shoving the tent flap aside as he swiftly moved to exit. "We have to tell her."

Harry was chasing after him. "Draco," he panted, reaching out to grip his arm. "Draco, you can't, okay?"

"Why not?" Draco demanded, pivoting quickly. "It's just a prophecy, Potter, it doesn't mean anything - "

"If that's the case, then why give her a reason to doubt it?" Harry asked pointedly, looking around and lowering his voice.

Granger was sleeping, but clearly, Draco was inclined to yell. He was unraveling, and had been since the extremely unwelcome visit from the Dark Lord. His mind was invaded. Nothing was safe.

"What do you want from me," he'd said, teeth gritted.

"Nothing, yet," the Dark Lord replied silkily. "Though you really should have just stayed dead."

"It doesn't necessarily mean her," Draco said, jaw clenched. "Just because it might be doesn't mean it is."

"If you tell her, the prophecy might become self-fulfilling," Harry pointed out. "Dumbledore told me that You-Know-Who made me the Chosen One by killing my parents. But it was never necessarily me."

"She's smarter than that," Draco snarled, not sure what was making him so aggressive. He felt - prickly, somehow. "She won't just - mindlessly believe it - "

"If you really think that's true, why didn't you just tell her right away?" Harry asked sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you really believe that, why doesn't she already know?"

"I'm fucking scared, that's why!" Draco shouted, and Harry shot him a warning glance. "That prophecy is about my death, Harry!" He started pacing, his hands shaking. "I don't want to imagine something happening to her if I'm not even there!"

"Either you think it's about her or you don't," Harry said coolly, watching him through dispassionate eyes. "Which is it?"

Draco dragged his hand through his hair, tousling it in his frustration. "I don't want to believe that the girl I love could become a 'conduit of chaos and suffering' but damn it, Harry, everything else - the outsider piece, the 'born of a different world' bit, the connection to you - " He sighed angrily. "I don't know."

"So you want to do what, exactly?" Harry asked, setting his jaw in frustration. "Tell her you think there's a chance she's, I don't know - evil?"

"No," Draco spat. "No, that's - that's not what I think, not at all - "

"Are you hoping she'll tell you it's not her?" Harry demanded, stepping forward and gripping Draco's shoulders. "Is that what you want? Her reassurance?"

"No!" Draco turned his face away, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

"Then what - "

"I just - I - I love her," Draco stammered, sinking to the ground. "I told her a long time ago that I would never lie to her - I promised I wouldn't keep anything from her - "

"This is purely speculation, not a secret," Harry reminded him. "You told her as much about the prophecy as she needed to know."

"But - "

"If this were reversed, would you expect her to tell you?" Harry prodded.

A fair point. Historically, Granger had always been choosy with the information she shared.

She'd said it herself once - Can you maybe trust that there are some things that I need to figure out before I tell you, then?

"She would never have believed this of me," Draco countered himself, his voice breaking as he shook away the thought. "She's never doubted me - not once, not ever - "

"You're not doubting her," Harry insisted. "You're just . . . being cautious."

"You think it's her, don't you?" Draco asked sharply. "That's why you want to keep it a secret."

Harry looked around before answering, a bitter grimace slapped across his face.

"I do," he confessed. "I think the prophecy means her."

They were silent for a moment, letting the gravity of the statement sink heavily over their heads.

Draco nodded numbly. "So do I," he admitted, feeling a crushing blow in the pit of his stomach; it was the unmistakable pain of his repugnant disloyalty. "But I don't - I don't want to believe it of her - "

"But Dumbledore," Harry supplied casually. "Right?"

Draco remembered her voice, the darkened tone with which she'd revealed her private fears to him.

I thought it would be harder than it was.

Shouldn't I have felt something?

Shouldn't it have hurt me?

"I didn't think she was capable of that," Draco said, his voice hushed. He looked up at Harry, expression pained. "I knew she was strong, I knew she was protective - I even knew she was ruthless - "

"But you didn't know it went that far," Harry finished for him, clearly echoing his own opinion on the matter. "You didn't know it ran that deep."

"What does that say about me?" Draco demanded. "What does it say about me, that I would hold something she did for me - to protect me - against her?"

They both fidgeted for a moment.

"You want to tell her your suspicions because you don't want to feel guilty about why you're keeping it from her," Harry pronounced definitively. "Selfish, don't you think?"

"I'm a selfish man, Potter," Draco muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

"You're not," Harry corrected sternly. "But if you tell her you think it's her, you'll only plant doubt in her mind. You'll only make it inevitable."

"It might not be her," Draco attempted, his head bent. "It might not."

Harry scoffed. "Now say it like you mean it."

Draco looked up, glaring at him. "I do mean it."

"Well I suggest you spend a little longer convincing yourself before you decide she needs to know," Harry warned.

Over the tops of the trees, the sun was coming up. Another night gone without fanfare.

Should he start counting them?

"Don't let me die, Potter," Draco managed, his voice rough with fear. "Don't let it come to that."

Harry put a hand on his shoulder, and for a moment, Draco was comforted.

But only for a moment.

"What if there was something we could do?" Harry suggested, a strange glittering returning to his expression.

Draco felt a renewed chill float up his spine, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he looked at his former nemesis. "What do you mean?"

"The Hallows." Harry's eerily darkened eyes slid vacantly to Draco's. "If I had them - "

"They're not real," Draco cut in swiftly, alarmed once more by the flicker in Harry's gaze. "You know that. You know they're not real."

"But the wand - "

"All speculation," Draco interjected. "And didn't you just lecture me on speculation?"

The unearthly light in Harry's eyes abruptly went out. "Right," he breathed, color slowly returning to his face. "Right. You're right."

Draco nodded encouragingly, trying to stifle the panic that was pulsing through his veins.

For fuck's sake. Was nothing safe?

He needed to get Granger. He needed to get Granger and run.

She wouldn't, of course, a small voice in his head reminded him. She has a war to fight.

Fuck.

Fucking - fuck.

The sooner this was over, the sooner he could focus on keeping her safe.

"Wake Weasley," Draco muttered gruffly. "We need to get that horcrux. Now."

. . . . . . . .

"I was really hoping this would not be your decision," Hermione said grumpily, tossing her messy braid over her shoulder. She looked sharply at Malfoy. "You're sure you've thought this through?"

He was clearly very agitated. "Yes," he said, his expression glacial and cold.

She knew that look.

"What are our options?" Ron asked excitedly, sprinkling enthusiasm all over Hermione's terrible mood. He was clearly overjoyed that they were finally willing to reach out to his family.

Hermione scowled; of course he would be. Ron was always the one with the least at stake; for just a moment, she hated him a little bit for it.

"We could go to the Burrow," Harry muttered, though his avoidance of eye contact with Hermione spoke volumes about how realistic he actually found that suggestion.

"No," Hermione said, her hand slicing through the air. "Absolutely not."

Ron looked hurt. "But - Mione - "

"No!" she snapped, coming to stand beside Malfoy. The room was now divided, with the two of them on one side, and Harry and Ron on the other. "Too dangerous."

"Meet somewhere else?" Harry suggested, rubbing his neck wearily.

"And how would we get him the message?" Hermione prompted, lifting her chin defiantly.

Ron opened his mouth, and she cut him off. "Don't," she scolded. "You're too eager. You'll only be full of terrible ideas."

He was taken aback. "Mione!"

Malfoy put his arm around her but said nothing. She calmed slightly at his touch.

"What about a Patronus?" Harry offered. "That's what the Order uses."

"To deliver a message?" Malfoy asked tightly. "They can do that?"

"Yes," Hermione said tentatively. "And you can't trace or follow them." She sighed at her own logic. "Fine. Maybe a Patronus. But I'll have to read more about the spell." She glared at Harry. "Unless you already know how to do it?"

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "By all means, Hermione," he mumbled. "Hit the books."

She looked at Malfoy. "Draco," she said in a low voice. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

He said nothing.

This was not acceptable.

"Come on," she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him outside. "Put yourself to good use, Harry, and grab the book on Patronus Charms," she called over her shoulder.

"Which one - "

She groaned, tossing the tent flap aside and stepping through it. "Figure it out!"

"Feisty," Malfoy murmured, though without the signature smirk she'd come to expect.

"What's going on?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "This isn't like you. This is reckless - it's dangerous, and you know it - "

He looked away. "Granger - "

"Don't 'Granger' me!" she exclaimed impatiently, backhanding his shoulder. "What is this? What is wrong with you?"

He looked warily over his shoulder, gesturing a little further from the tent. "Come on."

She followed. "What is it? Is it Harry?"

He hesitated. "I - "

"Draco." She leaned forward onto her toes, holding his face between her hands and kissing him softly. "Draco. You loathsome cockroach." She felt him smile under her hands. "Tell me what's going on."

He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "Okay."

"Is it the prophecy?" she prompted, smoothing his hair back affectionately. It had gradually rejected the muggle hair coloring and since leaving his childhood home, it was now nearly as silvery and pale as it had once been.

"It's . . . a few things," he said, though he straightened abruptly. "We need to destroy these horcruxes, Granger," he announced firmly. "We need to do this as quickly as possible."

"Why?" she asked, brows furrowed. "What happened?"

"Harry brought up the Hallows again," Malfoy admitted wearily. "The closer we get to destroying the Dark Lord, the more I'm - " he hesitated. "The more I question what he'd be willing to do. What he's capable of."

"Why?" Hermione asked, perplexed. "I mean - it's Harry - "

Malfoy looked up at the tent and back at her; it was an unusual level of paranoia for him. "When we destroyed the diadem," he began slowly, "the piece of the Dark Lord's soul that came out - Tom Riddle, he said that he could read our demons - see our darkness - "

Hermione bristled. "It's a horcrux," she said quickly, relieved now that she hadn't shared her own harrowing experience with him. "Dark magic. It's only a trick."

"Right," Malfoy agreed tentatively. "Harry defended me - but Tom Riddle said that wasn't what he meant." He took a deep breath. "He didn't mean me."

"He said that Harry had darkness in him?" she asked skeptically, frowning. "Not you?"

He gave her a look. "Thanks," he said wryly.

"No, no," she hastily assured him. "I just meant - I mean," she stammered, "I assumed horcruxes saw darkness in - I don't know - in everyone - "

"Why?" he asked, squinting curiously at her. "Did it say something similar to you?"

She offered him what she hoped was an ambiguous shrug. "Oh, you know," she said faintly. "Something like that. But anyway," she insisted, pressing forward. "Back to Harry - "

"He brought up the Hallows again and I just have a bad feeling," Draco said flatly. "We have to destroy the others, Granger. We can't afford to wait." He bristled. "The sooner we destroy the horcruxes, the sooner I can get you away from all this."

"This is about me?" she asked, startled.

"Hermione," he sighed impatiently. "Everything for me is about you," he told her, his grey eyes stormy with sincerity. "I just want a life with you. No hiding, no prophecies, no pieces of souls - " he broke off. "I want to do all the normal things with you. I want to worry about things like whether or not I've made your tea properly. I want to forget our anniversary and be forced to come home with expensive jewelry. I want to be bored to tears after half an hour of you going off about - I don't know - books. I want to argue with you over house elves - "

"I'll win that argument," she interrupted, choking a little on the tears she was fighting.

"I just want to settle into obscurity with you," he concluded, taking her hands. "I can't wait another fucking day, Granger. Fuck my safety," he added, "fuck everything else but you."

"You can't just throw caution to the wind, Draco," she warned, ignoring the heavy thudding of her heart. "I want those things too, you know - but I won't have them without you." She yanked him close to her, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. "I need you."

She felt him melt against her. "Let's just try the Patronus thing and see if it sticks," he murmured in her ear. "I won't go charging into Gringotts, okay? But we have to do something." He kissed her cheek. "And we have to do it soon."

She remained a little concerned by his haste, but dismissed it easily.

"Okay," she agreed, taking his hand. "Let's go."

It wasn't actually that difficult to figure out the talking Patronus Charm. Not to undersell herself, of course, as she wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing - but the added complexity to the charm was minimal.

"So what do we want to tell him?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips. "Have you two thought about this?"

"No," Ron drawled sarcastically. "We thought it would be best, you know, if we just kept the thinking to a minimum - "

"We decided that arranging a meeting is too dangerous," Harry said loudly, glaring at Ron. "It could always be a trap. But since no Death Eaters could produce a Patronus, and certainly not Bill's, we can ask for a return message."

"Is that true?" Malfoy asked, frowning. "You mean - I couldn't?"

"I'm going to hazard a guess that you're an exception, mate," Ron said lazily, as though he didn't particularly care one way or another.

Hermione smiled. He clearly did.

"I'll teach you another time," she assured Malfoy. "So," she said, turning back to Harry, "the message, then?"

"We can't give away too much, obviously," Harry said, his forehead creased in thought. "Perhaps just to ask if there have been any notable activities in the Malfoy vaults in the last few months?"

"Year," Malfoy corrected. "We rarely access our vault."

Hermione frowned. "A bit of an odd question out of context, don't you think?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, shrugging. "Any more than that isn't exactly safe in a message."

"True," she conceded, nodding. She looked at Malfoy. "Last chance," she said warily.

"Do it," he said, an aristocratic flex of authority in his tone. "It's our best option."

In the tingling silence of the moment she wondered if that were actually true, at least where Malfoy was concerned. Did Harry really need her? Couldn't they just -

She squeezed her eyes shut. No.

Hermione allowed her mind to drift, sifting through her happiest memories in preparation for the charm.

There was the day she discovered she could do magic. The day she got her Hogwarts letter, and found out she was a witch. The day she first picked up her wand, and knew for sure it wasn't a dream.

The day she covered for Ron and Harry, and learned what it felt like to be someone's friend.

The day she went to the Yule Ball, and felt beautiful for the first time.

The day that Draco Malfoy told her the stories from his past, and she could suddenly see in him a glimmer of hope and happiness that she was drawn to like a moth to a flame. The day she fell into his arms, when she knew with all her heart that she was his. The same day, his haunting fears finally revealed, peeled away and bared for her alone, when she knew that he was hers.

The day he told her he loved her, lives on the line and bodies on the floor, and still he had nothing but her in his eyes. The day he forgot, even for one second, the difference in their birth; when what used to mean everything finally - and rightfully - meant nothing.

The day, someday - not yet, but someday - when they'd finally have it out about house elves, and she'd tell him he was wrong, and he'd listen, mostly because she was right. But also because he loved her.

Because he loved her.

"Expecto Patronum," she said, and the translucent, full-bodied otter slipped out from the tip of her wand, turning to face her. "Bill," she said slowly, trying to enunciate. Her Patronus tilted its head adorably, listening intently. "We need your help." She looked up at Harry, who nodded encouragingly. "We need you to find out if anyone has accessed the Malfoy vault in the last year."

She looked up. "Anything else?" she mouthed, and they shook their heads.

"Reply with a Patronus," she instructed. "And Bill - " She looked up, meeting Ron's eye. "Be careful."

Ron nodded his gratitude, and she flicked her wand, sending the otter off with the message.

"Now we wait?" she suggested primly, and Malfoy came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Now we wait," he agreed, and they all took a collective, shaky breath.

. . . . . . . .

All was not well in the Manor.

More than just 'not well,' really. It was actually pretty fucking terrible, considering Theo's father was there. Not exactly Theo's choice of company. His presence could only mean that somewhere within the far-reaching, spiny tendrils of the Dark Lord's control, something had gone horribly awry.

Voldemort had removed them from the room, but failed to take precautions. Knowing Malfoy Manor like he did, Theo was both secured from sight and well within hearing distance.

"What do you mean there have been questions?" the Dark Lord seethed, and Theo could tell his knuckles were white where he gripped the arms of his chair.

"You asked that the goblin you Imperiused be sent to warn you if anyone tried to access the Malfoy vault," Theodore Sr. began tightly.

"Was it the Malfoy boy?" the Dark Lord interrupted, rising to his feet with a clatter. "Was it Draco?"

Theo, listening from the other room, was greatly concerned that Draco would have indeed done something so exceedingly stupid. He'd certainly done stupid things before, and the company he now kept was not exactly careful. Though what good was Granger, exactly, if not to temper the stupidity of Potter and Weasley?

"Nobody has physically entered the vault," Yaxley said carefully. "But there were questions about the vault's activity from a known Order member."

"Which one?" Voldemort snapped impatiently.

"The eldest Weasley," Theo's father supplied. "He was previously a curse breaker."

"What would a curse breaker want with the Malfoy vault?" Voldemort demanded - not unreasonably, Theo thought with a mirthless smirk.

Please let Draco not have been behind this.

"He's no longer a curse breaker, my Lord," Theodore Sr. corrected loftily. "He took a desk job when he aligned himself with the Order of the Phoenix."

"Get rid of him," the Dark Lord said impatiently, flicking his wrist as though shooing an irritating fly. "Why has nobody thought to do so by now?"

"He has almost no security clearance," Theodore Sr. said pointedly. "He is not a threat in the slightest. You merely asked that we - "

"Any member of the Order of the Phoenix is a threat to be eliminated," Voldemort interjected testily, rolling out his neck as though physically irked by the news.

The Dark Lord seemed exceedingly agitated, though Theo could not possibly imagine why. As much as he hated to admit it, his father was right; Bill's job at Gringotts was of little significance, even with regard to the covert operations of the Order. Bill was not a threat by any stretch of the imagination; at least, not in this capacity.

Theo looked at his watch. Late evening. He'd be able to catch Bill before he returned for work in the morning. Unfortunately for Bill, the man would likely have to disappear entirely. The timing was a bit too coincidental for him to have simply come down with dragon pox.

Easy enough to arrange; the Order had hiding places all over. If Theo left now -

"Get Snape," Voldemort barked suddenly, and the urgency in his order caught Theo's attention. "Get Severus, Lucius, and Bellatrix - " he paused, considering something. "Get Nott, too, and bring them here - now- "

Theo's father stepped forward. "Sir, I - "

"Not you," Voldemort hissed. He jutted his inhuman chin at Yaxley. "Younger Nott. Get him."

Fuck.

Theo disapparated quickly, placing himself in the front room.

"What's going on?" Narcissa asked, rising from her chair in the corner.

"Don't know," Theo admitted, looking around for Yaxley, who would inevitably appear within moments. "Someone at Gringotts asked about your vault."

"Our vault?" Narcissa asked, frowning. "We rarely enter it."

"Is it unusual for someone to want to?" Theo asked. He was curious now, despite his better judgment. "What do you keep in there?"

"Gold," Narcissa said plainly.

"Anything else?"

She pursed her lips, giving him an unpleasant glare. "No," she said uneasily. "Heirlooms and other items we keep . . . nearby."

The thought made Theo a bit squeamish - what exactly was in this house? - but he overlooked it.

"Who would access your vault?" he asked. "And why would it matter?"

"Normally? Lucius," Narcissa said. She frowned slightly. "Actually . . . "

Her voice trailed off and Theo stepped forward, watching her face change. "Actually what?"

"Lucius put something in our vault a few months ago," Narcissa said. "At the Dark Lord's request, if I'm not mistaken."

"Nott!"

Theo turned, giving Narcissa a silencing glare before his gaze left hers. Not that he needed to, of course; he was pretty sure the woman was born with an instinct for secrecy.

He heard the words 'conduit of pain and suffering' rocketing around in his mind in his mind and fought a violent shudder.

Yaxley was walking quickly towards him. "Nott," he repeated, louder.

"What?" Theo asked, feigning ignorance.

"He wants you," Yaxley returned breathlessly. "You're to come immediately."

"My father is here," Theo commented, testing the waters.

Yaxley shrugged. "He asked for you."

Theo glanced at Narcissa. "Duty calls," he said apologetically.

"Be careful," she mouthed.

"Not my first day," he returned, offering her a pert, shallow bow and turning on his heel.

The Dark Lord was in the dining room, pacing furiously.

"Lucius," he snapped, and the pale, blond man looked up. "You will go with Bella. The item in your vault - I need it moved."

Lucius's expression never wavered. "Yes, my Lord."

"Go," Voldemort said. "Now," he snapped, and Lucius and Bellatrix hurried out of the room.

Theo's presence went unnoticed while the Dark Lord continued calling out orders for his Death Eaters.

"Severus - " Voldemort looked up. "Where is Severus?"

"Hogwarts, my Lord," Yaxley said, looking confused. "Preparing for the new school year."

"Yes, yes," Voldemort murmured to himself, increasing the speed of his pacing. "Yes, of course . . . "

If Theo gave two shits about the psychopath before him, he might have wondered what was wrong. The normally calculated general seemed to be unraveling rapidly before them.

"My Lord?" he attempted, calling attention to himself in the most respectful fashion he could muster. "You asked for me?"

"Yes," Voldemort said, bristling. "I need you to bring me something."

Theo's father, who Theo had not realized was still in the room, cleared his throat. "My Lord," he rumbled, dignified in his dishonor. "Perhaps I can assist you instead?"

Voldemort turned to glare at him. "You've been out of the game too long, Nott," he spat venomously. "Your son is the only one left who hasn't managed to disappoint."

A compliment? Fuck.

Theodore Sr. took a step backward, nodding slowly as he seemed to blend into a tapestry. Theo found it difficult to care.

"You need me to bring you something?" Theo prompted, waiting expectantly for what would surely be the newest set of regrettable instructions.

"Yes - but first - " Voldemort spun, addressing Yaxley. "What is the name of the eldest Weasley?"

"William," the Death Eater supplied.

"Him," Voldemort said, turning back to Theo and nodding. "Get rid of him."

Get rid of him. Thank fucking Merlin for ambiguous wording.

"Done," Theo replied steadily. "And?"

"I need you to go to Little Hangleton," Voldemort said, his face contorted with displeasure at the thought. "To the former home of Marvolo Gaunt."

Just the latest fucking scavenger hunt, it seemed.

"And the item?" Theo prodded.

The Dark Lord seemed to be battling with himself in the decision.

"You'll know it when you find it," he snapped, looking at Theo with irritation as though it had been his youngest follower who'd wasted his time. "Get rid of the Weasley, and - "

A slow, unappetizing smile spread across his face. "Bring me the lady of the house," the Dark Lord crooned sonorously.

Alarm bells sounded in Theo's head at this, but there was nothing he could do.

"My Lord," he managed, inclining his head and heading swiftly for the door.

"Take a little free wisdom from Lord Voldemort, young Theodore," the Dark Lord advised coldly, and Theo turned back to face him, looking back at where Voldemort was eyeing him carefully. "When given the option, it is always best to eliminate an early threat, particularly whenever one has the benefit of . . . leverage."

"Leverage?" Theo echoed, his stomach sinking.

"Yes," Voldemort said, leaning back in his chair. "And today, leverage goes by the name Narcissa Malfoy."

. . . . . . . .

"What is it?"

"I don't know - he's been screaming - "

"How long?"

"Minutes, I think, a few minutes - "

"Harry - "

"Yeah, him too - "

"NO - "

"Harry!"

"Draco - please - "

"Is he breathing? I can't see - "

"Ron - Ron - give me my wand - "

"He's screaming, he hasn't stopped screaming - "

"Draco - Draco, can you hear me?"

"Look at Harry!"

"No - no, no - "

"What is it? What's happening?"

"My mother! HE HAS MY MOTHER!"

And in the silence that followed, time and sanity ceased to exist.

. . . . . . . .

a/n: This one is long overdue for jhuffy. Thank you so much for your reviews! And thanks to oblivionbaby for inspiration. (Psst she wrote a one-shot with RooOJoy called Out of the Flames under the penname PhoenixTwins, go read it, it won lots of stuff)

In conjunction with chapter 28 (which is coming shortly) I will begin posting Amortentia, which will be a collection of romantic drabbles beginning with a smutty NottGrass and a fluffy Dramione as per request. Some, like the first one, will take place inside the Clean/Marked storyverse, but some will be AU. A little fluff in case you need it.

Also, Fortuna Major is now complete! I am overloading you with fluff while we get through some difficult times in Marked.

If you follow me on tumblr, you know that I am obsessed with It is the Cause, My Soul by DrSallySparrow. It is complete and highly recommended. Go.