Trussed

Moody emerged from the pensieve looking uncomfortable, which was an expression rarely seen on his usually stoic face.

Susan clasped her hands in front of her. “Anything?” She asked, trying to stay calm.

“Maybe.” He replied. “Where's Harry?”

“We managed to force feed him some Dreamless Sleep.” She looked down at the floor. “How bad is it?”

“It seems as if they're doing this to bait Harry, so I don't believe they'll kill her.” He paused. “But every second that passes, they're likely continuing to assault her.”

“Hermione is strong.” She said.

Moody nodded. “I hope she's strong enough.”

***

Harry’s eyes fluttered as he woke, feeling a soft hand on his arm.

“Ginny?” He murmured.

“No, Harry.” Luna’s dreamy voice reached his ears and the world came into focus.

“You drugged me.” He commented, and she nodded shamelessly.

“You barely sleep as it is. And you were out of control.”

“This is my fault.” His voice cracked and he turned away from her, tears welling up in his eyes.

“No, it's not.” Luna said firmly, grasping his shoulder to turn him back towards her. “This is Voldemort’s fault.”

There was a heavy knock at the door and Moody shoved it open without waiting to be invited.

“How much did you watch?” He asked gruffly, getting right to the point.

“Enough.” Harry slid his glasses on, swallowing his tears.

“Not enough, then.” The old Auror snapped. “Does ‘from the ashes rise the phoenix’ mean anything to you?”

Harry paled. The phrase made him feel cold. His memory grasped at something that felt just out of reach, and goosebumps rose on his arms.

“It means something is hidden.” He whispered, and Luna furrowed her brow.

“Hidden in the memory?” She looked to Moody. “Is that possible?”

“If so, it's likely occlumency.” He replied impatiently.

Luna sighed. “Lupin would be the only legilimens left that would be even close to cracking it, but he’s-”

“Hermione would have charmed it to unlock for me.” Harry interrupted, and ran a shaky hand through his dark tresses. “Which means I need to go back into the pensieve.”

***

Harry cast a silencio on the scene so that we wouldn't have to listen to Hermione’s cries and pleading. He was shaking with anger again, and absently thought he maybe should have taken a calming draught before jumping back in.

He studied Draco’s face, memorizing every inch of perfect skin he was going to tear from his skull.

Then he saw it. It was just a flash. But it was there. Harry wordlessly cast to back up the memory and freeze it on the blonde’s face, a look of utter despair and guilt and self loathing.

What the fuck was going on? After Hermione had disappeared, they'd managed to rescue Susan from France. There's been no sign of his best friend, and they'd reached out to Snape in hopes of information. Having not heard anything back, they'd taken a desperate risk and tried to contact Draco, with no reply either.

It was assumed that they were dead, caught, or both. Or, and nobody wanted to admit it out loud, they'd never been on the Order’s side in the first place.

Harry's immediate reaction to the memory had been surprise at Draco seemingly alive and well. And then anger that he had, in fact, known where Hermione was. And was assaulting her.

But that moment, that glimpse of emotion. There was more at play here.

The question was, whose memory was this?

The scene dissolved, and he lifted his silencio.

“I'm going to enjoy this, mudblood.” The words were cruel and husky and Harry fought the urge to scream. He didn't want to watch, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

By the time Draco had her in a body bind, the dark haired wizard was crying shamelessly. To see Hermione so overpowered, so helpless… had she been enduring this for eight months?

When she whispered the phrase Moody had relayed to him, Harry cast a revelio and the scene dissolved again.

“Harry.” Hermione was sitting on the bed with red rimmed eyes. “I was sent to Malfoy yesterday in a box, by whom we don't know. He and Snape weren't sure you were still alive, but Voldemort confirmed you were by wanting to send you these memories.” She paused, a shuddering sigh of relief ripping through her.

Harry knelt in front of her, wanting to reach out, to hug her thin frame close to him.

“I'm glad you're okay. I hope everyone else is, too.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “A Death Eater saw me in the box, and knows I was given to Malfoy. He and Snape had no choice but to present me to Voldemort, and well… you know that part. What's important, is that you do NOT come for me.”

He clenched his fists.

“I mean it, Harry Potter.” Her voice was firm, that commanding tone that almost always worked on he and Ron. “Voldemort is trying to bait you with me. Don't let him win.”

Draco cleared his throat and both she and Harry shot him a scathing look.

“There's something else. Voldemort told Snape he has a spy in the Order. We don't know who it is, but that they are close enough to you to get you these memories.”

Harry’s blood ran cold. A spy inside? There was no way. Who could it be?

“You must not let anyone find out we hid this message in here. I hope not many know already. You need to find out who the spy is and use it to your advantage.

“And I know you're going to be furious with Snape and Malfoy.” That was an understatement. “I believe we can still trust them. And regardless of what Malfoy is forced to do to me… what you watch… trust me. I trust them. I can't afford not to. What is happening to me is not as bad as it could be.

“Tell everyone… no, don't tell anyone anything until you find the spy. But to you, Harry, I want to say I'm sorry. I miss you. Not as much as you miss me probably, since I don't remember the last eight months. But I miss you so much it hurts. I hope circumstances allow us to see each other again safe.

“Do NOT come for me.” She said again, and Draco got to his feet. “Find the spy.” She melted away, back into the bound and screeching lioness on the floor being violated by the snake.