pieces. I see Harry leaving. Hes going over the water. He puts his hand to his throat but its gone — that chain he wears. The Charm.'
'The Epicyclical Charm,' Voldemort said. 'The one Lucius so carelessly made for his son. And Luciusson — do you see him?'
'No — no. I don?t see him. I can?t see him…'
A whispered laugh. Rhysenn? 'Perhaps, Master, that one has no future.'
'Look again,' the Dark Lord said to Ron. 'Look harder.'
But Ron barely heard him. He was adrift in a world of images that no longer made any sense: he saw the sky lit by dazzling fire, saw a crumpled body inside a pentagram, saw flames leap from the windows of the Ministry, saw two people embrace and kiss inside a cage made of gold, and knew that what they were doing was terribly wrong somehow. He saw Hermione, who turned and looked at him with awful sadness, and Seamus, surrounded by green light as if he stood underwater. He saw a glass heart snapped in half and then he saw the runic band that Harry wore shattered into fragments, and he cried out, although he never knew until later what name he had called. All he knew was the darkness as it overwhelmed him and drew him down into a merciful oblivion.
The door shut behind Lucius.
Draco turned around and looked at Harry.
He had steeled himself to face Harrys furious anger; he had expected rage and resentment, even disdain or contempt. He had expected to be shouted at. But Harry was not shouting. He did not even seem angry. He had gotten down on his knees, and was carefully gathering up all the bits of broken vial scattered over the stones. He held the shards he had picked up in his cupped left hand; his other hand shook as he ran it over the stones, looking for the half-invisible slivers of clear glass.
Dracos mouth went dry. 'Harry — what are you doing?'
Harry looked up slowly. The moonlight struck his glasses; Draco couldn?t see his eyes, just the set of his chin and the twist to his mouth. The blood on his hands where the glass had cut him was black in the moonlight.
'Maybe its not all gone,' Harry said. 'Maybe there might be some left….'
Draco didn?t say anything about the sheer impossibility of this, just stood where he was, looking at Harry and thinking that having Harry be furious with him would have been better than this.
'I just thought it might help,' Harry said, and looked down at his hands, where the blood mingled with the last bits of antidote and the silvers of glass. His hair fell down and hid his face. Draco wondered exactly what it was Harry was talking about. He remembered Harry in his dream, kneeling in the sand, telling Draco he had come too late to be of any help.
'Don?t,' Draco said. 'Harry….'
'If we could get the bits to a lab…run tests…'
/Harry./ Draco knelt down next to Harry. He took the other boy by the wrists, and held them tightly. /There isn?t any point./
Harry raised his chin. His eyes were abnormally clear; a tearless, lucent green. /Why didn?t he Memory charm us right away, your father? As soon as you smashed the vial?/
/Now hes being sadistic/, Draco said wearily. /Now we made him angry -
theres no telling what else he?ll do./
/Or has done./ Even Harrys inner voice was inexpressibly weary and flat.
/All this time I thought you hated him. But you hate yourself more. Or maybe you hate me./
/Hate you?/ Dracos grip on Harrys wrists tightened, and Harry winced.
'My hands,' he said out loud.
Draco looked down. 'Hell, they?re full of glass. You?re a fool sometimes -
why didn?t you put your gloves on?' He let go of Harrys wrists. 'Hold your hands out flat. I?ll get the glass out.'
Draco drew his gloves off. Harry didn?t say anything as Draco used his bitten fingernails to pull the silvers of glass out of the skin of Harrys palms. Blood welled up where the glass had been and ran down Harrys wrists like scarlet threads unraveling.
'Tear a piece off my cloak,' Harry said. 'To save the glass in.'
Draco knew what he meant, and did it, folding the glass slivers into the bit of cloth. He knew it was a waste of time, but did it anyway, not looking at Harry. The odd kneeling position was making him sweat; he handed the folded cloth to Harry and rubbed his damp hands on his cloak. They left bloody fingerprints behind. 'What a mess,' he whispered under his breath. 'Can you close your fingers?'
'I can make a fist,' Harry said. His voice sounded oddly constricted.
Draco sat back on his heels. 'Look, if you think that I…'
He didn?t finish his sentence. The tower door opened for the fourth time that night; Harry, who was facing the door, sucked in a gasp — of astonishment or horror, Draco couldn?t tell. He twisted around and stared.
The person standing in the doorway was not Lucius Malfoy. It was not a Death Eater either. It was a slender figure in a yellow cloak like a torch in the darkness; between the bright cloak and her bright hair her face was very white.
Draco got to his feet, still staring in disbelief. 'Ginny? What the hell are you doing here?'
'Oh, my God,' Ginny said, staring past Draco at Harry. She had thought for a moment that he was wearing black gloves, but as Draco moved towards her and the moonlight fell on Harry, she saw that it was blood.
'What did he do to your hands?' she whispered. 'What happened? Why are you two up here?'
Draco simply stood and stared at her. The expression on his face was so complex as to be utterly unreadable. It was Harry who moved. He got to his feet and strode over to her. 'Ginny,' he said, taking hold of her shoulders. 'Did anyone see you come up here?'
She shook her head. 'No. I followed Lucius to the door and then I hid and waited for him to leave. He didn?t see me. He looked really angry, so I figured it had to be something to do with Draco.' She smiled weakly.
'Only Draco can piss somebody off like that.'
Harry didn?t smile back.
She went on quickly: 'The door wasn?t locked, so I just waited for Lucius to go downstairs and I came up here. There weren?t any guards.'
'No,' Draco said. 'There wouldn?t be — but Ginny, what are you doing here? How did you get back into the Manor?'
Her heart skipped a beat. The Time-Turner, nestled under the collar of her cloak, suddenly seemed a heavy weight. 'I never left,' she began, but Harry interrupted her.
'It doesn?t matter,' he said flatly. 'You?re here and the doors open.
Thats all that matters. We have to get out of here, and quickly, before Lucius comes back.' He twisted around to look at Draco, his hands still on Ginnys shoulders. 'Can you get us out of the Manor?'
Dracos eyes narrowed to silver crescents. 'I can bloody well try,' he said.
Harry slowly lowered his hands. Later Ginny would find two bloody handprints on her cloak, one on each shoulder. Very lightly, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand: it was a gesture Ron might have made, or Charlie, reassuring themselves that she was all right. For the first time, she saw that there was a terrible sadness in his eyes that went beyond the normal anxiety of their situation. 'Malfoy,' he said, without looking at Draco. 'You lead us.'
