78Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. All credit must be given to J.K.
A/N: Here it is. It pained me to edit this thing. Towards the middle, I tried so hard to keep my tenses straight, but I really couldn't. I kept getting confused. You know, like when you say a word over and over again until it starts sounding foreign? Like that. Oh well:D!
The Cradle Will Fall
Chapter 17
"STOP! Set it down!" Harry's arms instinctively flew up to shield his face from the mad woman. Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. Ella looked at the two frightened teens with confusion.
"Please," Harry said softly as he eyed the knife she held in her limp hand, "put the knife away." He could hear the nervous crack in his own voice. So many times he'd been pitted against Voldemort, only to be brought down by a raving mad old lady. What a cruel joke. The nervous air was broken by the sudden, barking laughter of the old woman. She was clutching herself as she laughed and Harry slowly backed away towards Hermione.
"You think I was trying to kill you?" She wiped away her amused tears, "I was chopping carrots when I overhead you, is all." Her smile fell into a thin line and her brow furrowed as she became serious. Hermione stood cautiously and slowly made her way completely behind Harry, clutching his arm protectively. They both remained silent.
"Tell me," she began, her hand moving towards her apron, "You two didn't happen to come from Malfoy Manor, did you?" Hermione felt her tongue grow thick and dry in her mouth as she watched Ella withdraw a wand from her apron.
Draco leaned over the toilet and threw up for the third time since they had left the manor. There was a light knock on the bathroom door followed by his aunt's voice.
"Draco, are you feeling well?" She said with concern. He'd never been close with his Aunt Bella, seeing as how she had spent his entire life in Azkaban. Despite her slight insanity, she tried her best to make him feel comfortable.
"FINE!" Draco shouted a bit too harshly as he wiped his mouth. He immediately felt guilty of his attitude. "Sorry," he said softer, "I'm just bit dizzy." That part was true. Every time he thought about the past few days he became extremely dizzy and overwhelmed.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, love." He heard his aunt's footsteps fade away.
They had evacuated their manor after a terrified house elf had informed them that Aurors were closing in on the home. They had left by floo immediately, arriving in a tiny, abandoned cottage. From there, they apparated into a dark, cold forest. They then proceeded to walk two miles to their second home, which was situated on a steep, rocky hill overlooking the misty forest. At the time, Draco had cursed his mother for packing so much luggage, but now, he couldn't take his mind off what his father had told him earlier, when they had finally been settled.
"How did you find out?" Draco had asked his father earlier. Lucius had reclined in his chair and had remained silent for several moments. He finally sighed in irritation.
"It's still hard for me to believe that my only child has been so ungrateful," he had said in a contemptuous voice. "Nonetheless, I think you'll find this story very amusing." Lucius had smiled scornfully. Draco had kept his face blank, afraid of upsetting his father. When his father had finished the story, Draco had begun to feel lightheaded.
When Lucius had escaped the ministry cell, he was hidden at the home they were currently staying at. A family friend, Rita Skeeter, had been called by Narcissa to assist Lucius. The day after Lucius' escape, Rita was asked to follow Draco around to see what the traitorous boy was up to. Lucius had had a suspicion that ministry officials might try and interrogate Draco concerning Lucius' escape. Instead of ministry officials, Rita Skeeter, in animagus form, had found Draco with Hermione Granger. Skeeter had been elated with her finding, seeing as how Hermione had humiliated her over two years ago, and had returned this information to Lucius immediately.
He had been less than pleased about it than her. He had been furious, in fact. First Draco turned him into the Aurors and then he's socializing with mudbloods. Lucius had sent Rita to investigate her findings further. For days she had followed Draco. She had discovered that he was with Granger often, but never much in public. One day, though, Skeeter had found that Hermione was meeting with another Slytherin—Blaise Zabini. When she had listened to their exchange, she had felt distressed at having to force down the urge to write a story on her findings. She had made a promise to Lucius, though.
She had returned to him and informed him that according to Blaise Zabini, Draco had fathered a child to the mudblood. Lucius' face had been so red he had looked ill. If he wasn't such a frightening man, she would have found it amusing. Narcissa had done her best to calm him down, but it was no use. Irate, he hurried to a large cabinet and searched hurriedly through the potions stocked within it. Finally, he pulled out a jug of polyjuice potion. Lucius was going to remove Draco from that filthy school, even if he had to abduct him.
Two days later, Lucius and Macnair had arrived at Hogwarts, disguised as McGonagall and Draco. They had needed to be able to walk through the halls without being suspicious. Lucius had known McGonagall had class at the moment, but where Draco was, he had had no clue. He had to keep on his toes in case Draco came walking down the halls towards them. They had taken care to make sure their flasks of polyjuice were full before they had set off on their journey.
The two men had walked casually down the halls of Hogwarts. Lucius, disguised as his son, had stopped at Draco's door, found by Skeeter, and had muttered the password. They had stepped into the common room and had found it empty. They had checked his bedroom and bathroom, just in case. Nothing. Without Draco in his chambers, it would be near impossible to kidnap him. They couldn't grab him out in the open. Irritated, Lucius had stormed out of the room and walked briskly down the halls, Macnair following closely behind. No one had taken any notice to them.
Draco was with the mudblood. He must have been. Lucius had narrowed his eyes and turned to Macnair to tell of his suspicions. Macnair, or McGonagall, had nodded. Lucius had slunk away and hid behind a large statue in the shadows.
Macnair had stopped a passing girl, a familiar redhead. He had asked her where Hermione was and the girl had looked at the 'teacher' skeptically. Maybe in her common room, she had said as she pointed to the portrait directly behind her. Perfect. Macnair had thanked the girl and meandered over to the portrait casually.
Macnair had knocked on the door, and after a few moments and an exchange with a confused Draco, he was inside the room. Lucius had cursed under his breath. Macnair should have kept the boy in the room. Then they'd have him cornered. When Draco had been out of sight, Lucius crept over to the portrait and knocked. Macnair had let him in.
"You idiot! Why'd you let Draco go?" Lucius had felt his hand moving of its own accord towards his wand.
"He said he was watching that kid," Macnair had said as he pointed to Daniel, "I didn't know what to say. I told him I could watch him." Lucius had shaken his head in disgust. If he had chosen someone smarter, they'd be nearly out of the castle by now. Skeeter had a story to do and Bella and Rodolphus had been called by the Dark Lord. Macnair had been the only one available. Lucius had raised his hand and swung hard, hitting Macnair at the back of the head. Because of Macnair's slow thinking, they would have to wait for Draco to return before they could abduct him. That was when Lucius had first laid eyes on Daniel.
He had been absolutely revolted. A half-blood Malfoy. What a disgrace. But then he had formulated a plan. Perhaps he could keep the child. Perhaps he and Narcissa could raise him as their own. He had clearly failed with Draco. This was a perfect opportunity for a second chance. Brilliant. He would take the mudblood back with them. Give her a good scare. Maybe obliviate her. He would improvise as he went.
The two had waited in relative silence for Draco. Lucius had given Macnair an annoyed look as his potion wore off. Macnair hadn't been watching the time. The only sound had come from the light snoring from the infant boy. After what had felt like forever, they heard heavy footsteps outside the door. Lucius had leapt up and hid in the shadows as Draco burst through the door.
Draco had only had time to widen his eyes before Macnair hit him with a spell, knocking him out cold. Macnair took another sip of polyjuice potion after spotting himself in the mirror. Lucius had instructed the other man to discreetly take Draco and Daniel back to the manor (he hadn't trusted the man enough to tell of his other home). Rita Skeeter had informed him earlier that the Aurors had stopped watching Malfoy Manor, for the moment, at least. Macnair had nodded and Lucius retreated from the room.
Draco had come back without the mudblood. No matter—he would find her himself. He had walked briskly down staircases and halls unsuccessfully. He grabbed a Hufflepuff's arm in vexation and had asked her in a harsh tone where Hermione Granger was. The frightened girl had stuttered before responding that she had seen her waiting in the Entrance Hall. He had smiled to himself as he made his way down the hall as Draco. When he had approached the Entrance Hall, he spotted her.
Lucius had told him how he had portkeyed the two back to the manor. How he had knocked Potter cold and had had Hermione moaning on the ground. That was what made him sick.
"May I be excused?" He had asked hurriedly. Lucius smiled knowingly and nodded.
He'd been in the bathroom since, trying to clear his mind. There was knocking at the door again.
"Draco? Come out. We're doing your hair now." The muffled voice of his aunt pierced his thoughts. Potter and Hermione were dead. He needed to be on his father's good side to preserve himself. He wasn't worried about Daniel anymore. He'd be fine.
If anyone had chosen to look over at Ron Weasley at that moment, they'd have thought he'd seen a spider—he was so pale. His mouth was open in shock and he felt as though he were about to lose his breakfast. He scanned the letter in his hands once more. Malfoy had to be crazy. Must have been. Hermione and Harry weren't dead! Couldn't be. And yet, he couldn't stop his heart from beating wildly. But Malfoy was crazy! The letter was proof.
He had practically written a novel. The entirety of the letter consisted of Malfoy talking about his summer vacation and how he met some boy. It seemed like a bunch of babble. None of it made sense. He was claiming to be a changed person. Oh please. He had seemed the same all year. But Ron still couldn't understand why he was telling him, of all people. And then he had turned the parchment over. There had been more writing on the back. It was less neat and appeared to have been scribbled hastily.
Sorry, Weasley. Hermione and Harry are dead. I guess, in a way, you could say I killed them. I didn't really. But I didn't help them. I could never be a Gryffindor. I don't have enough courage. I've been so caught up in self-preservation I've hardly noticed the difference between right and wrong. I thought I could try and be brave. I was wrong. I guess you don't choose your parents, right? You know that better than I.
Ron's head snapped up to the spot where Malfoy normally sat. Empty. And empty were the spots on either side of him. It was more babble, but the part about his friends being dead was easily comprehended.
'What do I do? If they're really…dead, I should go to Dumbledore. But—' He looked up to where Dumbledore normally sat. Empty. And the seat next to him, McGonagall's seat—empty. They had both been called away that morning. He had seen them himself, leaving as breakfast started. He had no one trustworthy to go to.
He could feel the anger begin to stir within himself. He knew it—knew that no good could ever come from a fucking Malfoy. Merlin! He had heard rumors that Malfoy had been seeing Hermione. It had seemed so farfetched at the time. But perhaps it was true. And now she was gone.
"Ron, are you okay," Ginny asked silently, "You're face is bright red and your hands are shaking." She was troubled by her brother's behavior.
"I'm fine. I'll see you later." He stood up quickly, catching the attention of all the Gryffindors around him as dashed out of the hall. Once out of the Great Hall, he threw the castle door's open and sprinted down towards the quidditch pitch.
Right before the entrance to the pitch sat an old, rickety broom shed. He slid to a stop in front of the broom shed and fumbled with the doorknob, finally forcing his hands to stop shaking enough to throw the door open. He glanced at his worn, beat up Cleansweep 11 and shook his head. Instead, he grabbed Harry's new Nimbus 2003 and was in the air in seconds. He had no clue where he was going.
"Please, please! I hope Malfoy's been a stupid boy." Ron crossed his fingers as he produced the letter Malfoy had sent him. He pulled his wand from his robe and tapped the parchment. It glowed blue and Ron let out a laugh. 'Too easy.' Malfoy had forgotten to place an anti-tracking spell on the letter. Ron would kill the bastard in no time.
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