Draco's eyes flashed. 'It wasn't a gift! You extorted it from me.'
'You owed me! And now you still do!'
'I don't suppose anyone wants to enlighten me as to what this is all about,' muttered Harry, but Draco and Fleur were too busy glaring at each other to pay any attention to him.
'I gave you what you asked for!'
Suddenly Fleur smiled. 'Not exactly what I 'ad asked you for.'
'All right. The second thing you asked for. I gave you the sword. It's not my fault it came back to me.'
'You knew it would.'
'Fleur. You're better off without it.'
'Don't you patronize me, Draco Malfoy, you 'orrible person. I knew the minute I saw that sword 'ow powerful it was. But you didn't tell me you were linked to it. All it tried to do from the moment you gave it to me was get back to you. I 'ad to sleep with it tied to my arm! And even then it kept me up all night. I 'ad to let it go back to you. But not before I took this from it,' and she held up something in her hand that shimmered a darker green than Harry's eyes. Draco knew what it was immediately; the missing emerald from the hilt of the sword. 'This is 'ow I found you,' added Fleur, sounding smug, and opened her hand. The emerald flew out of it, and with a soft plonk sound, rejoined the hilt of the sword. In a moment, it looked as if it had never been pried loose.
'That begs the question of how you managed to get in here,' added Harry, looking suspiciously at Fleur.
'It was not difficult. I am a veela. The Snake Lord just assumed I was Called 'ere. He doesn't know I'm a Magid, and therefore I cannot be Called. There are 'undreds, perhaps thousands, of Dark creatures
'ere. I was not noticed. When you arrived 'ere this morning, the emerald sought you out. I seduced the guard stationed in front of your door, and 'ere I am. I 'ave come,' she announced, 'to rescue you.'
She smiled proudly. Both Draco and Harry stared at her in amazement.
'Fleur,' said Draco finally. 'I don't know whether to kiss you or run away from you in terror.'
'You 'ad your chance with the kissing,' she said serenely. 'You missed it. You still owe me, Draco,' and her voice was steely. 'I will not let you die 'ere before you pay me back.'
'This is all terribly interesting,' said Harry. 'But do you know how to get us out of this room?'
Fleur nodded. 'In five minutes the guard will open that door back up for me. We go through it, and then I will lead you out of 'ere. The Snake Lord, 'e was not going to come for you until midnight. We
'ave some time.'
Harry was looking at her with narrowed his green eyes. 'Slytherin was going to come for us in here?'
Fleur nodded.
Harry turned to Draco. 'Maybe we should stay.'
Draco stared at him. 'Stay here?'
Harry nodded.
'He beat us before because we weren't prepared. Now we're prepared and armed. I think we should stay here and when he arrives, attack him. He can't use magic in here either. We'll be equal, and there are more of us. It's the last thing he'll expect.'
'No,' snapped Draco, 'the last thing he'll expect is for us to obtain round fur hats and go caroling up and down the halls of his stronghold, spreading Christmas cheer. And your plan makes about as much sense. But thank you for sharing.'
'Arry,' said Fleur gently. 'It does not make sense. He 'as thousands of minions 'ere. Even if you could beat 'im, you would 'ave to deal with them. The best thing we can do now is escape.'
Harry looked at Draco, and Draco could see from the expression on his face that Harry wanted to tell him something, but couldn't because anything he said, no matter how he said it, would be overheard by Fleur. 'Potter-' Draco began.
The grinding noise interrupted him. Behind Fleur, a large dark opening was appearing in the wall. She tossed her silver hair back, and held out a hand to them, looking impatient. 'Come on,' she urged, backing towards the 'door.' 'We must go.'
With one last glance over at Harry, Draco went after her. And, after a moment, Harry followed suit.
'Reparo.'
Snape watched as the shattered bits of his record fitted themselves back together. Within a moment, it looked as it had before Draco Malfoy had broken it.
Snape was sitting at the desk in his dusty living room. The windows were closed firmly against the dark night air outside, and the room was full of dull light. He had not been in here for several days. Not since he had found his favorite student sitting on the floor there, eyes like blank mirrors, playing Bach's Goldberg Variations by spinning a record above his hand.
He wondered if he should regret telling the boy so harshly that his father was dead. But no, he had had to do something to snap Draco back to reality. He had looked as if he were drifting off, unmoored.
Snape had seen that look before in the eyes of Voldemort's servants.
Sometimes one could come back from that. Sometimes not. Draco had come back, but for how long?
He knew the boy had gotten the package he had sent containing a flask of the new Willpower potion he had developed, and the note explaining what it did — that it was stronger, lasted longer — because his owl had returned. But it had brought no note with it. He realized with an odd sort of pang at the heart that he was worried about the boy. It had been a long time since he had been worried about anyone.
Bang. Bang.
