Lupin looked at Sirius, who shrugged. 'In essence, it doesn?t matter,'
Sirius said. 'That big speech and everything, that was just to shock and unsettle us. The pretense of legality buys him a tiny bit of time — maybe a day or two. Thats all he wanted, obviously. The more time we wasted running around worrying about it, the better off he?d be. Its a distraction game. Typical Lucius.'
'So he hasn?t got a legal leg to stand on?' Charlie said, sounding relieved.
'That would depend,' Hermione said suddenly. 'On how corrupted the Ministry is. When He-Who-Must-Not- Be-named was in power, he didn?t obey any laws. He didn?t have to. Its quite possible the Ministry would back Lucius up on this, if they?ve all been corrupted.'
Mr. Weasley looked at her with concern. 'Hermione, love, I doubt things are quite that bad.'
Hermione replied almost in a whisper, 'I don?t know. I don?t trust anyone anymore.' She glanced blindly at Mrs. Weasley. 'Mrs. Weasley -
would it be all right if I went upstairs and lay down for a bit? I feel a little dizzy.'
The older witch was all sympathy. 'Of course, of course! You can use Ginnys room.'
'Thanks.'
Hermione slipped away upstairs without glancing back; she knew perfectly well that everyone at the table was looking after her with concern. She was glad to get away. Ginnys room was on the second floor, across from Fred and Georges. Hermione stopped on the second-floor landing for a moment, lost in thought. Then she continued up the stairs towards the attic where Ron slept, walking as quietly as she could.
Draco rose to his feet, all his laughter gone. 'Father,' he said, sounding surprised and a little awkward. 'I hadn?t thought you?d come…'
'Didn?t you?' Lucius inquired lazily. He was dressed warmly against the chill of the night, in a heavy fur cloak, gloves, and even a fur hat. On someone else it would have looked ridiculous: Lucius managed to carry it off, but only just barely. 'Did you think I was planning on leaving you up here forever?'
'No,' Draco said. 'I figured you?d send minions.' He had put his composure back on like a cloak, after a moment of what had seemed like unguarded surprise. His gray eyes were half-lidded, his mouth curled into a narrow smile. 'Not that I?m not glad to see you, Father.'
Harry began to rise to his feet, but Draco stayed him with a silent whisper: Don?t. Stay where you are until I see what he wants.
Harry slid back down the wall. The runic band at his waist touched his bare skin as his shirt slid up, caught on the stone wall, and he flinched — it burned with cold fire. Inside him, the lion on its chain growled softly.
Lucius took a step forward. The tower door behind him remained propped open slightly — a maddening glimpse of freedom. As he came towards them he nudged at something on the ground — the discarded Passionate Trousers — with the toe of his boot. 'Up here reading romance novels to each other?' he inquired brightly, bending to pick it up. 'Odd behavior for boys, I?d say. Something you want to tell me, Draco?'
'Yes,' Draco said evenly. 'In that hat, you look like a pimp.'
Lucius smiled thinly and straightened up. 'Get up,' he said, and it took the sudden tensing of Dracos shoulders for Harry to realize that Lucius was, in fact, speaking to him. He got slowly to his feet, and as he did, Draco stood up as well, pushing Harry back as he did so — managing again, as he had done earlier, inside the Manor, to put himself between his father and Harry. Harry wished that he wouldn?t — he almost welcomed a chance for Lucius to strike at him. He was more than slightly curious about what would happen if Lucius tried.
'Months ago,' Lucius said, his eyes on his son again, 'You told me I would have to kill you if I intended to harm Harry Potter — is that still true?'
Draco said nothing.
'Never mind,' said Lucius with a graceful shrug of fur-covered shoulders.
'I see that it is.'
This time, Draco spoke, his voice toneless, 'What do you want, Father?'
To Harrys great surprise, Luciusanswer to this question was clear and straightforward. It struck Harry as painfully as if Lucius had dropped a box of bricks on his chest. 'That cup you took from the Stonehenge Museum,' he said. 'I want it. Give it to me or tell me where it is, and you walk free of this tower.'
There was a silence. Draco swung around and stared at Harry, and in the other boys anguished gaze, Harry saw one thing clearly — Draco had no more idea where the cup was than he did.
Never had the oddity of time travel been brought home to Ginny with quite such force before. This was the Draco she had known at age eleven, the one she had hated and been afraid of. She had remembered him as tall and gangly, towering over her, huge and terrifying. And here he was, but -
'You?re so tiny,' she exclaimed, without thinking. 'Look at you!'
A brick-red flush spread over the boys face. 'I am not tiny!' he snapped, drawing himself up to his full height — which would have been about elbow level on Ginny. 'I?m a whole inch taller than Harry Potter!'
He glared at her. She couldn?t believe it. She was torn between panicking and wanting to laugh. He really was tiny — a fragile little small-boned child, with rather too much fair hair and a thin face dominated by enormous gray eyes. The sort of little boy whose cheeks got pinched by old women in grocery stores. This was the monster who had humiliated her at age eleven? Ginny felt ashamed of herself.
'And you didn?t answer my question,' he snapped. 'Who are you? Tell me immediately, or I?ll go to my father!'
'I wouldn?t,' she said immediately. 'Hes in his study and he doesn?t want to be disturbed.'
Draco narrowed his eyes at her, but fear of his father kept him in place.
'Well, what are you doing here, then?'
'I?m the new, er, Arithmancy tutor,' she said, realizing as she said it that this hardly explained her posh violet-colored dress and expensive jewelry.
'For your summer studies.'
'Governess? I don?t need a governess. I?m going to Quidditch camp this summer. I just came home to pick up my kit, in fact.' Dracos lip curled into a sneer. Ginny looked at him with fascination. She remembered having thought he was a very ugly boy; he hadn?t been, but the ugliness of his expressions had made him seem that way. 'I don?t believe you at all, and anyway my father would never hire someone with so many freckles to work in this house. You practically look like a Weasley.'
Ginny jumped. 'I look like a what?'
'A member of the poorest and most repulsive family on the face of the earth,' announced Draco, with a superior smirk.
'You are a horrible little boy,' she snapped. 'And when you go to camp this summer, I hope Seamus Finnegan puts dead spiders in your bed. In fact, I know he did. I mean, I know he will do. I mean…'
Draco screwed up his face into a disbelieving frown. 'I don?t like you,' he said.
'And some things never change,' replied Ginny sourly.
At that moment, the sound of the bolt being drawn back on the study door nearly startled her out of her wits; she clutched the books she was holding to her chest and gasped. Her eyes met Dracos across the room.
He looked as terrified as she felt, and for a brief moment she almost saw the Draco she knew in the face of his younger self. Then he turned and fled, banging the library door shut behind him.
And not a moment too soon. Ginny reached for the Time-Turner around her neck and flipped it hastily; the world around her dissolved into grayness and from a great, great distance, she heard Lucius Malfoys voice fading as he called out, What was that noise? Whos there? Draco, was that you?
'I can?t believe you called your father a pimp,' Harry said. He sat with his back to the parapet wall; Draco knelt next to him. It hurt a very little bit to talk, but the pain was receding. It was the one good thing about magically induced pain, he thought — it vanished almost instantly once the spell that caused it was lifted.
The tense look behind Dracos eyes eased slightly. 'Well, he probably is one,' he said. 'I?ve always known hes into some nasty stuff…dragons blood bars, unicorn smuggling, polyjuice brothels…' He broke off as Harry winced. 'Are you sure you?re all right? Look up at me — ' His mouth tensed as Harry lifted his face. 'Your pupils
