Centre of Twilight

Dumbledore stepped out of his office fireplace and dusted soot from his shoulders as he smiled when a few of the portraits greeted him with quiet murmurings. Most of the others remained asleep and the Dumbledore made no move to disturb them.

After his meeting with Sirius and Remus, he was quite exhausted – emotionally and physically.

He considered going to see Harry now, thinking that the young man must be quite distraught at seeing his resurrected godfather. However, the lure of his bedchamber was very strong and so, with a gentle pet to Fawkes as he passed, the Headmaster made his way to bed.

Only as he was about to slide beneath the covers, did he do a last mental scan of the castle. It was a skill passed from one Headmaster to the next and allowed him to check on general goings-on. For instance, he could tell that the castle defences were all intact, as were the wards and Apparation Restrictors. He could also tell, on a very broad scale, if people were where they were meant to be – without prying, of course.

For instance, Professor McGonagall was within her private quarters below – probably sound asleep in her bedroom, although he couldn’t pinpoint his skills to that level of accuracy. Professor Sinistra was currently in the Astronomy Tower as the night was especially clear. Professor Snape was…not in his rooms – perhaps he was doing the rounds?

And then Dumbledore sat upright with surprising speed for a man of his age. Harry wasn’t in his quarters either and…

He sent out a searching scan over the rest of the castle. Severus wasn’t anywhere within Hogwarts!

Knowing that something wasn’t right – although quite unable to determine what exactly – Dumbledore stepped into his slippers, pulled his dressing gown over his nightshirt and hurried back into his office.

Here, his magic was stronger and he was able to do a swift, thorough search of the entire grounds. Nothing.

Hagrid was in his cabin with Fang curled beside his feet. The centaurs were moving around on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest – no doubt making the most of the clear night, as was Professor Sinistra. But there was absolutely no sign or either Severus or Harry.

With a vague wish that he didn’t have to disturb her, Dumbledore cast a silvery dart of personal summoning to wake Professor McGonagall.

“Albus?” she blinked sleepily at him from the cold fireplace, a few minutes later. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Minerva, do you know where Severus and Harry might be?” the Headmaster demanded, not pausing to exchange pleasantries.

She blinked at him again and then, finally waking up properly, said, “Well, Harry came to see me earlier. He said something about Severus being out – no! About Severus not coming back on time. I assumed that he was simply taking some time alone – after all, sharing his quarters with two teenage -” she stopped then and stared at him in mounting horror.
“Harry’s gone looking for him, hasn’t he?” she demanded and muttered something darkly before stepping through the fireplace properly. “I’m sorry, Albus – I didn’t realise quite how upset he was…”

With an effort, Dumbledore reined in his temper and sent out another scanning search – this time to the Slytherin dormitories.

“Mr Malfoy is missing too,” he remarked then. “Do you know where Severus went today?”

“Potter said something about London,” Professor McGonagall supplied and then took a step nearer. “Albus, I’m so sorry! I didn’t take him seriously – and I should have mentioned it to you earlier, when you firecalled me but-”

Dumbledore held up one hand to stem her flow of apologetic words. “Minerva, please – the important thing now is to find them. Would you summon the Order members – not Remus, though,” he added, thinking that all he needed was Harry’s frantic godfather beating down his door.
“Tell them to start searching London – from Diagon Alley and outwards. If I was Harry, looking for Severus, I’d start from his last known whereabouts.”

Professor McGonagall nodded and turned to go, leaving Dumbledore to go and get dressed again.

*~*~*

Between one breath and the next, Harry found himself to be whole and well, standing beside Draco in a small triangle of grass, roughly in the centre of a village. It was mostly dark here, save for the occasional patch of bright light cast by streetlights.

Near the edge of the green, was a sort of wooden platform with a curious beam suspended above it. It had an almost festive feel to it and put Harry in mind of a fete stall. But who would have an open-air fete in late December?

‘Harry, stop wool-gathering!’ Draco rebuked softly.

‘Where are we?’ Harry asked in response, looking about the rest of the village with wary curiosity.

‘Reeth,’ Draco replied shortly. ‘The Dark Mark pub is over there, I think.’ He pointed towards the sound of drunken revelry. The door opened abruptly, driving the two young men back into the shadows, and they watched as a man stumbled out into the square of light, pouring from the open doorway.

‘If they’re all as far gone as him,’ Harry curled his lip as the man urinated against the wall, ‘this shouldn’t take long at all.’

‘While I wouldn’t necessarily like to be quite so over-confident,’ Draco responded, ‘at least we know that the Dark Lord isn’t here yet. There’s no way his followers would get so far gone in his presence.’

‘Out of respect?’ Harry looked his surprise.

‘Out of fear,’ Draco replied darkly. ‘Come on. Let’s see if there’s another way in.’

*~*~*

Tonks nudged one of the comatose bodies with her toe and chewed thoughtfully at her lip. Following Minerva’s urgent call, she, Kingsley and Emmeline had arrived here in Knockturn Alley, hoping to find Harry and the Malfoy boy before they got into any trouble. Looking at the two thugs before her, it seemed that trouble had already found them.

The unmistakable clunk, clunk, clunk sound told her of Mad-Eye Moody’s approach and she turned to see him walking side by side with Kingsley. They spoke in soft, low voices and only paused when they drew up alongside her.

“Dead?” Moody asked, indicating the bodies with a thrust of his chin.

“Stunned.” Tonks corrected, “They’ll sleep ‘til morning.”

“We think we know where else Harry and Draco have been,” Kingsley supplied then, speaking slowly. He gestured down the street. “The jewellery store’s in a right mess.”

“They robbed a jewellery store?” Tonks blinked.

“No,” Emmeline responded, stepping closer too. Beside her, walked a tall, willowy witch with large, dark eyes and shining black hair. “This is Alicia Malfoy; she’s Draco’s great-aunt.”

“By marriage,” Alicia corrected, “I married Draco’s great-uncle.”

“Do you know what happened here?” Tonks asked with a small frown.

“Not entirely.” Alicia shook her dark head. “I brought the boys this far and I know they were planning to rescue Snape from Encendra’s. However, Draco cast a sleep spell on me before I could persuade them to let me call in any assistance.”

“You sure that was who you were going to call, Madam?” Moody demanded bluntly, “You weren’t going to give the Malfoy clan a call about their estranged son and heir being down here, all alone and defenceless?”

“For one thing, Mr Moody,” Alicia sniffed with disdain, “I am entirely on Draco’s side – as is his mother, Narcissa. For another thing, however, Draco is hardly defenceless. He is an extremely powerful young man and anything he lacks, Harry more than makes up for. What’s more, I believe Harry would do anything to defend Draco.”

“So why did Draco cast a sleep spell on you?” Tonks asked quietly, watching the woman’s face.

“I…” Alicia faltered and fidgeted with her cloak. “Anyway, from what I understand, the boys took the Jewellers by storm, no doubt found Snape gone and perhaps gained his new location from Hillary, herself.”

“Don’t see how,” Kingsley shook his head. “The woman has no mouth.”

“Hm.” Alicia sniffed again, “She’s not entirely human – rumour has it that she’s part Siren. Perhaps they had to silence her.”

“And the information?” Emmeline shook her head, “How did they get that?”

“There are ways,” a new voice replied and the little knot of people turned to see Dumbledore approaching with Professor McGonagall and Hagrid on his heels.

“Diagon Alley is empty,” the Headmaster reported, “and from what I hear, the boys are no longer here.” He turned then to Moody, “Can you find out from the store owner where they took Severus, please, Alastor? Take this,” he handed the old Auror a little glass phial, “it works like Veritaserum for magical creatures.”

*~*~*

“Daddy!”

The high, wailing, plaintive voice rang throughout the darkened house. There was a pause, as if the caller was waiting to see if his Daddy would come and then, after a little whimper, the voice rang out again.

“Daddy!”

Sirius stirred, rising from a dream with a sudden jump and then lay, wondering what had woken him.

“Si-wi!”

Beside him, Remus muttered something and rolled over, sinking into sleep once more with a gentle snore. Before Oscar could call out again, Sirius pushed the duvet aside and got up: padding on bare, high-arched feet and wearing only a pair of pyjama bottoms.

Stepping out onto the landing, he found Oscar outside his door and the little boy seemed to be working himself up to a really loud shout when he suddenly stopped and gave Sirius a round-eyed blink.

“Hey,” Sirius murmured, his voice sleepy, “what’s all the noise about?”

“Want Daddy,” Oscar whined, even as he held out his arms for Sirius to pick him up.

“Ssh…I know,” the man whispered, pulling the little body against his bare chest. The tiny heart hammered at double-quick time and he wondered then if Oscar had had a nightmare.

“Daddy?” the toddler sniffled and pressed his face in against Sirius’ neck, drawing a profound sense of sorrow. How could anyone explain to a two-year old boy that he was never going to see his parents again?

“We’ll find your aunt,” he promised softly; unconsciously swaying from side to side and stroking Oscar’s back. “Grandpa Albus will find the nice Lady-Doctor and you can go stay with your auntie.” He was babbling, he knew but the sound of his voice, as well as the feel of the vibration coming through his chest to Oscar, was soothing the child.

In a surprisingly short time, Oscar quietened and Sirius moved towards his room once more. As soon as he bent over to slide the boy beneath the covers, Oscar woke with a start and began to cry.

“Hey,” Sirius murmured softly, sitting down on the bed. He lifted Oscar back into his arms and cuddled him on his lap. “It’s night-time; we have to sleep now. Then in the morning we can play and not be grumpy.”

“Pa’foot?” came the drowsy request.

“Yeah, Padfoot.” Sirius smiled, “You can play fetch with Padfoot again in the Drawing Room.”

“Fetch.” Oscar mimicked.

“Hmm…but later. We sleep now.” Sirius responded.

Knowing that the little boy would fuss again if he tried to put him into bed, Sirius then sort of lay down on the bed himself and settled Oscar in front of him.

“Fetch.” Oscar said again with a little more force.

“Later. Sleep.” Sirius yawned and twitched the Martin Miggs duvet over them both.

There was a long, drawn out silence for a while and then, from who knew where, a memory came to Sirius. He could see, as clearly as if he was in front of him, James lying beside baby Harry on the sofa. It had been time for Harry’s nap but he was too excited to have Sirius there and was resisting. In the end, it had been James that got him to sleep by very gently stroking down the baby’s snub nose. Down between the eyebrows, over the bridge of the nose and down to where the tip curled up very slightly.

Here, now, Sirius did the same for Oscar. He drew his index finger down from the base of Oscar’s forehead, between the eyebrows and down the little nose. And then again. And almost immediately, Oscar’s eyelids drooped in response to the stroking fingertip.

After just a minute or two of this and the boy was asleep. Sirius gave the child’s forehead one last caress and then closed his eyes too.

*~*~*

The back door had been simple to unlock and the kitchen beyond that door was deserted. That, thought Harry, was just about where their luck ran out.

Across the kitchen, on the other side of another door, was the sound of raucous, up-raised voices. They sang, they chanted and they cheered. It seemed that the Death Eaters were having a party.

‘Yes, but who’s the guest of honour?’ Draco curled his lip.

He crept forward on silent feet towards the door, casting a Silencing spell, lest the hinges squeak as he pushed it open a tiny crack.

‘What do you see?’ Harry demanded, forcing himself not to try and see through the gap too.

‘People,’ Draco replied shortly. “They’re Death Eaters but not the Dark Lord’s inner circle.’

‘How do you know that?’

Draco glanced once over his shoulder, ‘The inner circle never reveal their faces to one another; the Dark Lord won’t permit it.’

‘So you can see their faces?’

Draco nodded, looking through the crack once more.

‘Can you see Sev?’

For a moment, Draco made no response and then, knowing that Harry’s patience would run thin shortly, he stood back and moved to one side.

For Harry, after the darkness of the kitchen, the brightness of the main bar was dazzling. There were a ridiculous number of people in there and some of them seemed busy with something in the far corner. It took Harry a while to sort through the mass in the rest of the room and then, with a hastily muffled gasp, he saw Severus.

The Potions master was sitting on a chair, over to the right, by the edge of the bar and it appeared that he was bound hand and foot, as well as having been effectively gagged with a Silencing spell of some sort. Certainly, he saw, when a Death Eater gave him a random punch, he made no sound.

This last attack – from a large man in none-too-clean robes – split the skin over Snape’s right cheekbone and would almost definitely result in a black eye.

‘A black eye is hardly anything to worry about, considering-’ and then Draco stopped abruptly and Harry caught him damning himself for being stupid.

‘What?’ he demanded, slowly turning round. His telepathic voice was dangerously quiet. Really, though, he didn’t need to ask; having made the slip, Draco sighed and revealed what he’d learned from Snape’s shared emotions.

‘We knew he was scared, though,’ Harry shook his head. ‘What are you -?’ And then it dawned on him. ‘Voldemort’s going to execute him in the morning?’ he demanded. He thought then of the strange, wooden construction on the green and realised with sick horror that it was a gallows.

‘Ssh!’ Draco leapt for him, moving to cover his mouth as if that would stop his telepathic thoughts. ‘Harry, when you’re in the lion’s den, it is not wise to broadcast the lion’s name. He might just answer you!’

But Harry pulled free, shaking his head in agitation. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? You knew from what you felt before! You should have said!’ Damn it, was everyone keeping secrets from him?

‘I should have told you?’ Draco growled, ‘Look at yourself, Harry! You’re barely holding it together. We need to be calm; we need to think; we need -’

‘You need to explain just what in the name of Merlin, you’re doing here!’ interrupted Severus’ voice.

The two teenagers stared at each other and realised then that they were having a stand up row just scant feet from a group of drunken Death Eaters.

‘Quite,’ Severus’ voice remarked sarcastically. ‘So what do you have to say for yourselves?’

‘Um…’ Harry began but was then distracted by raised voices in the adjoining room. He and Draco hurried to the door once more and, peering together, saw that the group in the far corner had dispersed, exposing –

“Oh bloody hell…” Harry breathed.

There was a girl: she looked to be about Ginny’s age. Her body was naked and marked with bruises upon her slender thighs and small breasts. A man held her captive by her hair; the fine blonde strands caught in his massive fist. She didn’t struggle, Harry saw; instead, she seemed to be trying to draw the man to her; reaching out with supplicating gestures and keening softly.

‘Get out,’ Snape’s voice ordered softly and it seemed that there was an uncharacteristic tremor to his mental voice. ‘Boys, I won’t ask you again: get out now!’ And as he ordered this last, his eyes came to rest on the very door behind which they hid.

Before they could move, though, the Death Eaters were pulling Severus off his stool and forcing him to his knees.

“Your turn, Traitor!” the man holding the girl barked, “You got a last meal,”

“He didn’t eat it, though!” shouted a drunken voice from somewhere near the door.

“We offered you a last drink!” the man continued and the room filled with another rousing cheer. The ‘drink’, Harry saw, remained on the bar, next to where Severus had been sitting. It was an unwholesome blue that spoke loudly of some kind of vile potion.

“And now, Traitor, you get your last fuck!” the man bellowed and hurled the girl at the Potions master. She landed on the floor before him, just as Sev’s hands and feet were freed. For just a second, Harry thought that the Potions master could escape but then he realised that his actions were greatly impeded by a man who had also been sitting at the bar. He held what appeared to be an invisible chain – much like the one Harry used to keep Caramon in line.

And if the actions so far were sickening, they were nothing compared to the way in which the girl crawled, keening again, towards Snape and began to press panting kisses over his closed mouth.

‘She’s high,’ Draco remarked softly. His tone was calm but there was an inexplicable look of pain and pity on his face. ‘Look at her eyes – see the colour?’

Harry could. Ordinarily, of course, it would be impossible to note the colour of someone’s eyes from this distance, but the girl’s eyes blazed a bright violet.

‘Drugged.’ Draco finished coldly.

“Come on, Snape!” the men in the bar shouted, amidst wolf-whistles and catcalls. “You should take her up on her offer – we did! And you won’t get another chance like this!”

‘Draco,’ Harry began, feeling the magic building unconsciously within himself, ‘we are not going to remain here and watch this!’

Draco stared at him, ‘You’re planning to take on the whole pub?’ he demanded incredulously.

‘Do you have a better idea?’ Harry asked coolly. Beside him, Caramon bulked to immense proportions and pulled experimentally against the chain.

‘Actually,’ Draco said, nodding slowly, ‘I think I do. Wait for the signal and then release Caramon.’

‘Signal?’

But Draco was watching the proceedings through the gap once more. And just when Harry was about to question this, Draco pushed open the door and cast:

‘Il y eravo! Kry disendruh! Vor Incendio!’

A fireball, blue-white with super-heated intensity flew from his fingers and landed amidst the nearest Death Eaters, avoiding the area where Snape and the girl were kneeling upon the floor.

“Shit, Draco!” Harry shouted as the wave of heat not only blasted forwards but backwards too. They pulled the door closed against the furnace-like blast and then, when the initial attack had subsided, they leapt out into the bar with Caramon behind them and a variety of Dark spells at their fingertips.

Following the sudden appearance of the fireball, the drunken Death Eaters had scattered in panic; a large number storming out of the front doors into the village. Some remained though and with flames spreading quickly to tables, chairs and the blinds across the windows, chaos was widespread.

“Ist aaren vor ebra!” Harry shouted, pushing the magic at those who hadn’t fled. When he and Draco had erupted from the kitchen, some of the Death Eaters had reacted with surprising reflexes, proving that they weren’t all as drunk as Harry had thought.

The spell washed over four of them, sending them crashing to the wooden floor. Others retaliated though, sending hexes and curses – all far more vicious than the Stunning spell that Harry had cast.

‘On ouros, zy tarenn. Mi aaska!’ Draco cast, pushing forwards and taking his energy from Caramon. ‘We need to fight fire with fire, not fire with ice-cream, Potter!’ he barked.

‘Speaking of fire,’ Harry retorted as flames leapt from table to table, ‘we have to get out of here!’

Thick smoke was now roiling through the room and adding to the confusion. More spells flew from all directions and it was all the youths could do to cast shields and the occasional retaliating fire.

Suddenly, from nowhere, Snape was at Harry’s side and, clinging to his arm, was the young girl.

“Out now!” the Potions master commanded, eyes furious, “Before the whole building goes up!”

‘How did you get free?’ Draco demanded, sending little silver darts of magic at a Death Eater by the door.

“My captor lost his enthusiasm when your fireball exploded,” Snape explained as he pulled both the boys and the girl towards the kitchen once more. “Then she,” he nodded at the girl, “bit him and he gave it up; dropped the Silencing charm and everything!”

Glancing at her then, Harry realised that the girl had blood on her lips and chin. Her eyes still blazed purple, even though she’d evidently come down from her previous high.

“Snape, you slimy bastard!” a familiar voice bellowed from behind them. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Harry snapped his head round and saw Lucius Malfoy standing in the front doorway. With firelight reflecting from his pale eyes and paler hair, he looked quite demonic. In a blur, Harry watched as Draco’s father aimed the killing curse and saw the green fire arc towards Severus.

Harry cast the first spell that came to mind - “Stae erat!” – but knew that it was no defence against the Avada Kadavra.

In the last moment, though, the girl leapt into the path of the spell and took a direct hit in the centre of the sternum. She fell back, immediately dead and all Severus could do was catch her, giving a soft moan of regret.

Lucius snarled and drew his wand back to cast again but this time Harry was ready for him. Sending out his thoughts, feeling Caramon responding to the demand for energy, Harry felt the strong, excited beat of Lucius’ heart. He stretched out one hand and closed it slightly, as if squeezing the heart in his fist.

The man hesitated, obviously feeling Harry’s touch. A second later and he fell, clutching the left side of his chest and gasping for breath.

‘Harry…’ Draco’s voice spoke hesitantly within his head.

Turning his head slowly, Harry gazed at him with an unearthly calm in the heat and blaze of the room.

‘All I have to do is squeeze,” he explained. ‘Don’t you want him dead?’ he asked silently, feeling Lucius’ heart stutter and skip against his touch.

‘I…’ Draco shook his head, unable to answer.

“Enough!” Snape growled then, interrupting. He seized Harry by the back of his cloak and pulled him, along with Draco, into the relative coolness of the kitchen. The fire and smoke hadn’t yet spread very much to here and they were able to make it to the outside door.

As soon as Snape grabbed him, however, Harry lost his hold on Lucius. Distantly, he felt Draco’s father stumbling out of the other side of the building.