his own bones. Whatever had been blocking his throat dislodged itself and he spoke, 'You poisoned him?' he whispered. 'You — '
'I never said I was the one who poisoned him,' Lucius said. 'I am merely presenting the facts, and they are these: he has been poisoned. The poison is a rare and subtle one. It is nearly untraceable in the blood. It will not be a painful death. But neither will it be a particularly quick one.'
'If he dies of this,' Harry said in a flat icy tone, 'I?ll kill you myself.'
'Be quiet, you spluttering child,' snapped Lucius. 'You will do no such thing. I will be Memory Charming you both shortly. You will not recollect anything I have told you. When Draco dies, it will be assumed to be a natural illness.'
'Then why?' Draco asked. He was still leaning against the wall. The moonlight silvered his eyes and made them opaque. 'Why tell us at all? It isn?t like you to be sadistic with no larger purpose. If theres really no cure…'
'I did not say,' Lucius remarked, 'that there was no cure.'
The air whistled in Harrys lungs as he sucked in a breath. 'Theres a cure? Then what — '
'Harry,' Draco said in the same toneless voice. 'Stop.'
Harry subsided reluctantly. A cool smile ghosted across Luciusnarrow face as he looked from Dracos white face to Harrys, and back again.
Slowly, he flexed his fingers inside his gloves. He appeared to be doing complicated mental arithmetic — arithmetic that amused him greatly. 'I think,' he said, 'that I?d like to talk to Harry, now. Alone.'
'I?ll just step off this tower then, shall I?' Draco said with flat bitterness.
'Won?t matter much if I splatter myself all over the moat anyway. Just hastening the process.'
'Your theatrics do not impress me,' Lucius said. 'I know you better than that. Malfoys do not tolerate suicides.'
'No, but they seem to roll the red carpet out for murderers,' said Harry in a savage sort of voice he barely recognized as his own. 'Don?t they?'
'I do what I must,' said Lucius, unfazed, and gestured Harry towards the tower door. 'Now, if you will come with me…'
'I most certainly won?t,' Harry snarled.
Lucius rolled his eyes. 'If you?d rather I called upon my colleagues to drag you, be my guest,' he said. 'I can?t promise they?ll be too terribly gentle. You are not popular among my acquaintances, Harry Potter.'
Harry opened his mouth to protest again, but Draco cut him off before he could speak. 'Harry, he said. 'Go.'
Harry felt his mouth sag open. 'But, I — '
Go! Draco said inside his head, so loudly that Harry nearly winced. He tried to reply in kind, but Draco had shut his mind down so completely that it was as if Harry were shouting into an empty and echoing cavern -
there was no response at all.
'Really,' Draco said out loud. 'I?d rather you went.'
Luciussmile was positively incandescent. He swept an arm towards the tower doorway: 'After you, Mister Potter.'
And Harry went, his feet dragging, feeling as if some part of himself — the sane, logical part, which expected the world and everything in it to make some sort of sense — had been severed from him and might never be recovered.
At the door of the tower he turned and look past Lucius, back at Draco.
Draco had finally moved away from the wall and was standing in the middle of the tower, in full moonlight, as bright as day. He seemed etched in light, as if all the angles and planes of him had been outlined in silver ink — cheekbones and chin, the lines of his narrow hands, the thin line of his mouth. Only his eyes, meeting Harrys across the space that separated them, looked black.
Later, when Harry, alone, tried to picture his friend, it was this image of Draco that would always come to his mind, even though he tried to replace it with happier ones: the cold white figure, straight and slender, outlined in moonlight against a frozen emptiness of stars.
The Ministry was, as Arthur had reported, in a shambles. Low-level officials scuttled here and there looking terrified, and the once-gracious looking marble entry hall was filled with frantic wizards and witches rushing about, registering complaints, reuniting with relatives scattered by Lucius? Whirlwind Charm, and exchanging hurried anecdotes. 'Oh, I was dropped right down into the middle of some lot of mad Muggles having some sort of game, very boring, no flying at all. Where did you end up?'
Lupin looked wryly at Sirius. 'The Memory Charm Squad must be out in full force today,' he observed.
Sirius nodded. 'Typical Lucius, wanting to cause as much disorganization as possible…look, theres young Percy Weasley over there.'
Any hope they might have had that Percy would provide some assistance was dashed when they got within speaking distance of him, however.
Looking harried to the point of torment, his red hair sticking out in all directions and his normally immaculate robes crumpled, Percy greeted them with a distracted air of panic. 'Terrible things are going on,' he hissed in a half-whisper, having consented to be dragged into a stairwell for a brief chat. 'My office has been transfigured into a broom closet!'
'That is dreadful,' Sirius agreed. Lupin fought the urge to kick him in the shin. 'You must be distraught.'
'I am distraught! It was a corner office! It had a view of the Thames!'
Percy tugged at his hair with a woeful air. 'Now its full of mops and Parkinsons Perfect Parquet Polish!'
'Can?t you register a complaint…?'
'Apparently it involves filling out several forms in triplicate, then sending them to the Department for the Investigation of Random Acts of Magic, which I happen to know was closed down last year for lack of funds.
Goddamn Malfoy,' Percy seethed. 'I?ll get him for this.'
'You think Lucius Malfoy had something to do with this?'
'Him and his cronies. I?m telling you, the only Ministry officials who haven?t had their offices transfigured into something nasty are the ones who?ve always been a little bit shady, if you get my meaning.' Percy gave Sirius a wide-eyed look. 'You do get my meaning, don?t you?'
'Percy, I always get your meaning,' Sirius said. 'You haven?t a subtle bone in your body. None of you Weasleys do, except perhaps Bill. Its why you make such bad liars and, I?m rather beginning to think, why your father wound up in the position of Minister when he did.'
Lupin spoke quietly. 'Any word on who might be replacing him?'
Percy glanced quickly up and down the deserted marble hallway before replying. 'The general procedure is that the head of the Advisory Council acts as temporary replacement if the Minister is no longer able to perform his duties. The position of head of the Council rotates monthly. Right now,' Percy finished grimly, 'its Francis Parkinson.'
'What a surprise.' Sirius? tone was flat. 'Francis Parkinson: runs a successful company that sells cosmetics and household charms. Keen on broomstick racing, pretending he wasn?t a Death Eater twenty years ago, and yapping on about how the Muggles are ruining this fine country. I used to know him when I was an Auror.'
'Apparently.' Lupin was impressed. 'So, in other words, hes a minion.
How much of the Ministry would you say is now entirely under their control?'
'Let me put it this way,' Percy said in a chilling tone. 'Do whatever you have to do here and get out. Then, don?t come back. This location is now hopelessly compromised. It won?t be safe much longer…' Percy paused and for a moment the officious tone left his voice. 'You?ve come from the Burrow, haven?t you? Any word on Ginny and Ron?'
Sirius shook his dark head. 'I?m sorry, they?re not home yet. Still, both are hale and hearty, according to your mums clock.'
Percy sighed. 'I?m sure they?re fine. Still, if you wouldn?t mind adding their names to the Missing Persons
