Broken Toy

Warnings: angst, violence, abuse, some romance, hurt/comfort, simply NC17…
Author's Notes:
First of all, thank you all for your wonderful comments. *HUGS* It’s such a shame that I can’t reply, but be sure your comments made me very happy and -- yes -- smile a lot! Thank you.

And of course a big hug for my dear friend ravenqueen55 for her awesome beta-work. Her help guarantees you won’t get distracted (and laugh your head off) by weird spelling and grammar errors!

Since the last update did take quite some time, I surprise you with a fast one this time (fast for my pace, that is *g*)! I’m sure a few more questions will be answered. Some of you have already guessed one thing or the other. And let me tell you - it took me HOURS to work out that *blasted* anagram… -- Ah, and before I forget, for all those of you with an affinity for revenge… you will hear what became of some certain -- but read for yourself, *winks*

Enjoy.

PS: And yes. It’s quite embarrassing to contradict myself, but right now I’m not so sure I can finish the fic in just one more chap… I’ll try, but… hmm


Chapter Twenty-Nine

Harry and Hermione stared at each other, their features frozen in shock.

For a split second, Draco felt annoyed by their intimate, voiceless communication. He sensed Hermione’s anguish, her inability to react, and Harry’s desperate, futile attempts to comfort her. Instinctively Draco cleared his throat, trying to attract their attention, but they didn’t notice. He blushed deeply, glad his childish attempt to disturb their silent dialogue went by unnoticed.

He shouldn’t have worried. The invisible connection between the two friends was broken the instant they heard loud voices from downstairs, increasing in volume. Something was splintering.

“RON!” Yelling her husband’s name, Hermione dashed outside, wand drawn.

As fast as he could, Harry straightened up, ready to follow Hermione at once, but was held back by a pale Neville. Now where had he been the whole time? Draco had totally forgotten about Neville’s presence.

“No, you won’t,” Neville’s voice was low but commanding. “You stay. You’re far from fit. No heroic duels for you tonight!”

Angrily, Harry grabbed for Neville’s hands and tried to push them away. “Are you mad? I’ve got to….”

“Trust them.” With strength Draco had never expected Neville capable of, Neville forced Harry back down on the bed. “They won’t let them get away with it. You know you can trust Ron. If not, trust Hermione.”

WHAM.

Draco flinched. Something huge had been turned over downstairs, probably the sofa. He tried hard, but he couldn’t make out any words in the riot that followed.

Harry’s struggle intensified, and he tried to free himself of Neville’s strong hold. With unease, Draco watched Harry’s determined, clenched jaws, his hard, but detached stare. Those surely were distinctive signs of…. No, Harry, please. Not….

Again, Neville surprised Draco. The instant Neville was pushed back by Harry’s fists, he had his wand at the ready and pointed it straight at Harry’s heaving chest. “You stay! I won’t hesitate to stupefy you. And I reckon you’ve had enough of that, right? Cool it, trust, and wait, for Merlin’s sake! ”

“YOU ARE MY SISTER!” That was Ron roaring, unmistakably.

A shudder went through Harry’s body. Then he lay still, only his fists opened and clenched in turn. Nervously, Draco wiped his forehead. Curious -- it was damp with sweat. How? Why? It was then that Draco realized it wasn’t just warm in the bedroom; it was hot.

Draco had to swallow hard. No, Harry. His heart was hammering painfully in his throat.

Another shudder went through Harry.

“No, Harry, please, ” Draco couldn’t believe he had spoken out loud.

Harry’s dark head jerked towards him, then back towards Neville. Draco’s stomach cramped, and he thought better of trying to argue. Their eye contact had been more than brief, but long enough for Draco to make out the badly suppressed, fierce fury. Draco still didn’t know how to handle that Harry, if that Harry could be handled at all.

Please, Harry, don’t…

“NO!!!!” It was a woman’s shriek, but Draco couldn’t tell if it came from Hermione or Ginny. His hands started to shake uncontrollably.

Harry shut his eyes firmly and took a deep breath in. Each muscle in Draco’s body tensed up as he watched Harry’s Adam’s apple move slowly up and down.

THUD!

That must have been the easy chair being tossed against the living room wall. Draco hoped that the pets had fled in time and were somewhere safe.

Harry tore his eyes open, and with an irresistible smile, he beamed up at Neville.

CRASH.

Glass was splintering; the French windows, no doubt. Neville flinched, Draco jumped. Harry’s smile didn’t waver.

“Neville…” Harry’s voice was soft. Neville’s wand hand wavered slightly.

“You know that I trust Ron and Hermione,” Harry’s voice was still soft as silk. With a calmness Draco was convinced couldn’t be genuine, Harry folded his hands upon his chest. Fascinated, Draco watched the tips of Harry’s thumbs as he rubbed them gently.

“But, you’ve got to see,” Harry went on pleasantly, “I can’t be sure about the twins. Nor about Ginny. Not at the moment.”

Staring at Harry as if hypnotized, Neville’s wand hand shook, then his arm sank feebly down his side.

“DON’T!” That must have been either Fred or George’s voice. Whoever it was, he sounded terrified.

“I will get up now, and you will be so kind as to offer me some of your famous chocolate. I bet you’ve got a few chunks in your pocket.” Harry straightened up and swung his legs out of bed. “And I would be grateful if you offered Draco a piece, too. He looks as if he needs some.”

Draco held his breath. He strained his ears, but no more sound could be heard from downstairs. It was deadly quiet.

“Eat and come along!” Harry told Draco with a quick side along glance. “I need you by my side.” Hastily, Draco stuffed the dark sweet Neville had pressed on him into his mouth. He felt dizzy. What, exactly, had just happened? How had Harry managed to turn a belligerent Neville into a tame child? What….

“Please give me a hand. My knees are wobbly.” Harry slung his arm around Draco’s waist, and Draco instinctively slipped his arm around Harry’s shoulders to support him. Draco could feel Harry’s hot skin under the thin fabric of his shirt. “Let’s go. And hurry up!”

They hastened to the bedroom door as fast as they could.

“Neville’s invention, by the way,” Harry said conversationally.

What? Draco turned to stare at Harry’s face. He shouldn’t have done that; off his guard he tripped over the rim of the bedroom carpet. At once he looked ahead again. Harry had asked him to assist him. Draco had to be as efficient as possible.

“The chocolate, I mean,“ Harry went on casually. ”Neville’s a genius as a healer, in case you didn’t know. He has managed to intensify the effects of chocolate to the tenfold. After a few bites, you’re as good as new. But he is reluctant with offering it. Pretends that stimulants aren’t healthy. Sorry I forced it on you, but we can’t afford to break down now. That’s for later.” Draco’s waist was squeezed, and he almost stumbled once more.

They had reached the head of the stairs and started to cautiously climb down.

It was still dead quiet in the living room.

The chocolate or whatever Neville had given him was showing effect. Draco felt more awake than ever before; he was profoundly attentive and exceptionally watchful. Whilst he carefully helped Harry down the steps, however, his mind was whirling.

What would they find when they opened the door to the living room? The noises they had heard had been terrifying. Without doubt somebody had been injured, or worse. It couldn’t be different, no way. Draco couldn’t care less if it had caught one of the twins or the bitch. However, the Weasley’s were Harry’s best friends, his family, in fact. Draco’s stomach cramped painfully.

What was going on in Harry’s mind now? Draco swallowed down the sour liquid that had gathered in his mouth. It tasted dreadful, but Draco didn’t notice. If Harry hadn’t met Draco, hadn’t felt that silly, obsessive urge to “rescue” Draco, none of this would have happened. No one would have cheated; no one would have violated the law. There wouldn’t have been a fight between siblings, and no family would have been torn apart. Draco swallowed again. They had almost reached the bottom of the stairs.

And Harry…. Harry would never have found out about his gay tendencies. If it hadn’t been for Draco and his persistent passes at Harry, he would have happily married Ginny after all. Because, who could be sure that Harry’s attraction to Draco didn’t have something to do with his obsessive urge to protect? Or maybe Harry was just keen on having new experiences; gay sex was without doubt a nice diversion to the monotonous practise with Ginny. Plus Harry was famous for his daringness; he loved adventures and challenges of all kinds. He always had.

Just a few paces left to the door of the living room. Was he mistaken, or could Draco hear somebody sobbing? He bit into his lower lip, hard.

Somehow, Draco was suddenly convinced that Harry already regretted having met Draco. He would never say so; he was far too polite, but without doubt, sooner or later Harry would loathe his presence. Hadn’t Harry told him that a family was all he really wished for? And now Draco had managed to rip apart the only family Harry knew. What was more, Draco was responsible for Ron turning against his best friend. Whatever future Harry might try to make Draco believe in, one thing was sure. Each time Harry looked at Draco, he would always be reminded of who was responsible for losing his foster family.

They had reached the door. Yes, indeed. Somebody was sobbing.

The fast speed of Draco’s heart was almost unbearable. He swallowed once more, and this time he noticed the sour taste. He shuddered.

Maybe it was the best thing to immediately surrender to the officials. The sooner he was out of Harry’s sight, the better. Harry simply had to command him to the Ministry; he would obey readily.

Draco sneered. He had behaved like a silly imbecile. He should have listened to the plans his Slytherin mind had suggested to him. Love and happiness was something for incorrigible dreamers. Such a thing like a soulmate didn’t exist; that was just pure imagination of a delusional mind. He licked his lips and was astonished about the unexpected salty taste. He hadn’t noticed the single tear trickling down his face.

Harry squeezed Draco’s waist again. Unlike the last time, the pressure of his hand didn’t lessen. I need you by my side. Without thinking about it, Draco gently pressed Harry’s shoulder.

Harry opened the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was nothing left of the living room as they knew it. Each and every piece of furniture was torn apart. The floor was littered with fragments of wood and pieces of glass. Draco had been right - the French windows were shattered. Most parts of the walls were blackened, and had very likely been hit by stunners.

A dark crater gaped where the fireplace once stood, and only shreds remained of the formerly bright curtains. Little white feathers were quietly floating through the air; even the sofa cushions hadn’t been spared.

Harry’s grip on Draco’s hip intensified; it hurt. Instinctively, Draco again offered the help that was appealed for. Inconspicuously he drew Harry’s body closer to his side, and realizing that the body he held still felt hot was enough for Draco to pull himself together.

Fred and George cowered in the left corner of the room, embracing each other. Hermione stood in front of them. The wand she was aiming at the pair shook violently. Tears were running down her face in a constant stream. So she had been the one they had heard sobbing.

Ron was squatting in the middle of the room, his elbows propped up on his knees, his face hidden behind his hands, rocking slowly back and forth. His wand lay at his feet, as if thrown away. Ginny….

“Where is Ginny?” Harry asked tonelessly.

No one responded to his question.

Ron continued to rock back and forth as if he hadn’t heard anything, and the twins just bent their heads to avoid direct eye contact. Hermione’s face contorted in despair.

There wasn’t any sign of Ginny in the room. Draco sceptically examined the open holes where the windows had been.

The bitch! He wanted to scream, holler, rave, but found he couldn’t; wild fury and frustration constricted his throat.

They had let her escape. The bloody, incapable idiots had let her escape! Draco couldn’t believe it; he had to gasp for air. He felt sick all of a sudden, and unwanted tears of disappointment shot into his eyes. She wouldn’t be punished. She would get away with it.

No wonder. Draco’s lips trembled when he attempted to sneer. What had he expected? Of course the Weasley’s protected their pack. They would never harm the puppy. THEY HAD LET HER ESCAPE!

A sharp intake of breath distracted Draco. Harry fidgeted, then heaved his shoulder slightly. Draco’s fingers were digging deep into Harry’s muscles. In his frenzy he must have hurt Harry, and so ruefully loosened his grip.

“Neville!” A curt gesture of Harry’s head, and Neville stood in front of the twins, wand aiming at them without a tremor, taking Hermione’s place.

“Hermione?” Harry addressed her gently. “Where is she?”

“Oh, Har-ree-hee-hee….” Harry’s name resolved into a loud wail.

But Hermione pulled herself together fast. She allowed herself just one last sob, unceremoniously wiped her wet face with the rim of her blouse, and then approached them with determined steps. Harry moved slightly, and Draco let go of him. Undoubtedly Harry would want to take Hermione into his arms.

But Hermione didn’t want to be comforted; she ignored Harry’s outstretched arms. Instead she hugged herself, rubbing her arms slowly as if she was freezing.

“Harry, Ginny is gone.” Harry started to reply something, but Hermione interrupted him at once. “No, please, it’s not what you think. Not at all. It’s dreadful…. And no, please, don’t say anything now, just let me tell what happened. If you interrupt me, I might not be able to start again. Okay?”

Harry simply nodded. Almost imperceptibly, he moved a wee bit closer towards Draco.

“Ron… He didn’t have the slightest idea of the goings-on, of course. He would never have agreed!” She cast a furious glare back at the twins.

“Ron didn’t like the idea of Draco being your partner, you know that, Harry.” Again Harry nodded. “But sooner or later, he would have accepted it. He is your friend!” Ron stopped his monotonous movement and sat still.

“Fred, George and Ginny didn’t deny it when Ron confronted them. They -- they demanded to be congratulated for the success.” Ron took his hands off his face. He looked dreadful.

“Ron told them….” Ron got up quickly and joined them. His blue eyes were alarmingly expressionless.

“It’s all right, ‘Mione. You don’t have to. I did it, so I’ll tell.” His reassuring smile was forced.

“We quarrelled. They… Harry, they just laughed when I said that I expected them to give themselves up! There was nothing to confess, nothing to be sorry about. Anybody with a brain in their head would award them a prize for getting rid of the dirty vermin. So I figured it was my duty to arrest them. Naturally, we got our wands out.”

Hermione grabbed for Ron’s hand and held it tight.

“We fought. It was -- difficult; no one really wanted to hurt the other, see? And Hermione kept trying to make them see reason. If Ginny had only had kept her mouth shut… Harry, it was a nightmare! I still can’t believe that this was my sister talking. She used words -- I can’t repeat them. It’s just -- when she called Hermione names, I -- I couldn’t help it. I lost control. All I could think of was -- that I didn’t want to see her ever again. So I cast the first spell that popped into my head.”

He fell silent, his face a mask of pain.

Harry looked at Hermione inquiringly.

“Evanesco,” she whispered, her eyes huge.

“Evan…” Harry broke off when the effect of the spell dawned on him. He exhaled audibly. “But where is she now? Hermione, where?”

Hermione cast her eyes down. “I don’t know.”

After several oppressive seconds when nobody dared to say a word, Draco broke the silence.

“I’m afraid Hermione is right. Nobody knows. Vanished objects are transfigured into a state of non-being, which is to say, everything”. Draco felt cold all at once. He remembered researching the spell all too well when he had messed around with the Vanishing Cabinet at Hogwarts. “The Evanesco spell is supposed to get rid of objects no longer wanted. It is evident, though, that anything Vanished does not cease to exist. Professor Snape told me all about it when -- err -- never mind. But until now, no wizard ever cared to know where the objects are actually moved. Nobody ever wanted to get a Vanished object back.” Draco shut his mouth abruptly. Shit. Noticing Ron’s miserable face, Draco wished he hadn’t used the word “object”.

“Did you hear that, Ron?” Harry hastened to put in. “Draco said “not cease to exist”. It means she is not dead!”

Draco nodded vigorously. To be honest, he didn’t give a shit if the bitch was dead, splinched or maimed. The damage she had caused was too extreme to be forgiven quickly. In fact, Draco was sure he would never be able to feel anything but hate for her. It was Ron he felt sincerely sorry for. Draco couldn’t and didn’t want try to imagine what Ron was going through at the moment.

“Ron, you didn’t kill your sister,” Draco said as gently as he could. Harry cast him a grateful look. Draco had spoken out loud what neither Hermione nor Harry had dared to voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, then. We’ve got to decide.”

They had discussed various options about how to proceed. The twins had to be taken into custody at once, everybody agreed on that. As there was a search warrant out for Draco, it was their duty to reveal his whereabouts as soon as possible. Ginny’s disappearance had to be reported as well as how the disappearance had been come to be.

Neville had volunteered to take the twins to the Ministry. With a stern look at Harry and Draco, he justified his recommendation with the remark that there were some people around who needed rest urgently as they were not fit at all. Ron had immediately opposed; Neville was just a healer whereas he was an Auror. It was his task to hand his brothers over to the officials, and, besides, he had to give himself up for misuse of magic. Hermione, of course, didn’t want to hear any of that; she had to come along. As Assistant to the Head of the Law Office, she had to give evidence that there was no criminal action caused by her husband as he had acted in self-defence. Harry emphasized that it was indeed his responsibility as Deputy Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to take suspects into custody and inform the Ministry about the goings-on. But since Draco couldn’t be left alone as the search warrant was still in effect, at least one wizard had to stay behind to guard him. Not that it was necessary; they were convinced Draco wouldn’t try to escape, Hermione assured Draco, but they had to abide by the law.

Draco didn’t really listen to the lively discussion. He still tried to remember everything he knew about Vanishing spells. It wasn’t much; when he had occupied himself with the matter that time at Hogwarts he had focused solely on the Vanishing Cabinet. He knew that people being shoved into the Cabinet without any destination spell were sent who knew where. He remembered Montague’s “accident” too vividly. His former Slytherin pal indeed reappeared some days later after he had been stuffed into the Cabinet. But it was evident that his adventure had had a very disorienting effect. Montague couldn’t recall his former whereabouts and had been out of his mind in the Hospital Wing for a long time; even after his dismissal there had been times when he had been confused and befuddled. In fact, he never had recovered completely. So in what kind of state would Ginny be in when they found a way to bring her back? If they ever found a way. Maybe she would return like Montague, without any explanation. It seemed very likely that the period of time spent wherever they went was important. Most probably it was vital to get them back as soon as possible to save their minds. Draco grinned maliciously. He didn’t care if it took a very, very long time for her to return….

“Draco?” Harry was gently nudging Draco’s shoulder.

“Huh?” It seemed difficult to leave his happy thoughts and once again concentrate on reality. “We’ll all go to the Ministry. We will Disapparate in pairs; Neville with Fred, Ron with George, you, of course, with me. Okay?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. Suddenly he felt tired. The effect of Neville’s super chocolate seemed to lessen.

Harry surveyed the chaos around him. “What a mess. I don’t think we can fix the room with a simple Reparo… Best thing is to get rid of everything. It was time to renovate anyway.”

Grinning cheerlessly, Harry pulled his wand out. “Evan….”

“Oh, no!” With a groan Ron threw his arms around Hermione, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“Ron, sorry. I didn’t -- I’m so sorry…” Harry stammered miserably.

“It’s all right, Harry.” Patting Ron’s hair gently, Hermione looked up at Harry, her eyes dark with sorrow. “We are all a bit -- mixed up right now.” Her lips quivered. “I’m constantly asking myself -- why? How on earth could she do it? How could she turn that -- mean?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know. I keep asking myself the same questions over and over again.” He bit his lips, then went on quietly. “I’m asking myself if I could have prevented it. If I only had -- if I just -- I ‘m sure I’m the one to be blamed…” His voice trailed away.

There. Draco should have known it. Harry would want to make himself responsible. Didn’t he see that it was all his, Draco’s, fault? If Draco hadn’t forced himself on Harry, Harry most certainly would have never involved himself in a gay relationship. Because of his selfish wishes and ambitions, Draco had destroyed a whole family, and daft Perfect Potter didn’t see it. But, no. Draco grinned bitterly. Harry wasn’t daft. Oh, no, not at all. Harry of course knew who was responsible, but he was too fucking considerate to blame Draco outright. Harry’s blasted chivalrous heart most probably overflowed with pity and felt obliged to protect the little whore, the miserable outcast, the broken toy.

“I should have realized that it wasn’t love she was feeling. I’m not sure…. Maybe it was love to start with, at Hogwarts, but there was always that --- that weird adoration. I think it turned into some kind of obsession after I told her I didn’t love her enough to marry her. I ignored the fact that she lived on as if we were still engaged. I should have ended any contact, but I couldn’t. I liked her! She was the sister I never had. Like you, Hermione. I just couldn’t….“ Harry’s voice broke. He inhaled deeply, then went on. “I was selfish. So many times, when I was feeling low, she came around and comforted me. And I let it happen. ” Harry nodded grimly. “Oh, yes. I felt there was something wrong, but I closed my eyes. I was too much of a coward to hurt her.”

Draco had heard enough. He couldn’t keep on listening; he simply couldn’t. He knew that as soon as all the excitement had worn off, Harry would realize who really had fucked up his sheltered life. Draco wouldn’t wait for that moment. He knew he could never bear to look into those green eyes and watch as the warmth turned to pity, then to revulsion.

“We shouldn’t waste time,” Draco blurted out, conscious that everybody turned towards him in astonishment. But he had made up his mind, and he wouldn’t stop now. “Let’s go to the Ministry. I want to surrender. I violated the law. I want to be sentenced and locked up.”

Ron wriggled out of Hermione’s embrace to stare at him. Neville forgot to keep an eye on the twins. Their heads jerked up simultaneously to gape at him. Hermione’s mouth fell open. Harry… Draco didn’t know about Harry’s reaction. He couldn’t stand to look at him, not even in his direction.

“But you can’t do that!” Hermione raised her eyebrows. “You would be in eminent danger.”

“What? Why?” Draco failed to understand. Why couldn’t they just go?

“Blaise, of course!” Hermione held out her hands to stress her point as if it explained everything.

“Blaise?” Draco was flabbergasted. “What the heck does Blaise have to do with it?”

“We don’t know how many friends he has.” Again Hermione’s hands gesticulated to emphasize her words. “Merlin knows how many like-minded fanatics are out there to support him. Besides, his family is well known, and their influence is immense. We need to investigate properly first!”

Draco was getting impatient. “I don’t give a shit about Zabini. Why should I worry about him? I want to get it over with. I violated the law, and I want to be convicted. What’s so difficult about that?”

Hermione stared at Draco for a few seconds. “You haven’t got a clue.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

She rushed over to his side and touched his arm gently. “It seems evident that Blaise is a Dark Wizard. I’m not one for prejudice, but in his case bad blood tells. It couldn’t be proven, but I have no doubt that his mother is a murderess. His father, of course, is one of the wickedest criminals of wizardkind.”

“What?” Draco couldn’t believe his ears. He sensed Harry moving nearer to his side, but Draco preferred not to look at him. “Alldrick Peens was a highly decorated member of the …”

“Sorry, Alldrick Peens is…” Hermione interrupted him

“Is?” Now it was Draco’s turn to cut her off, and he did it loudly. “He’s dead, he died back in…” He broke off. Harry had grabbed his other arm. Involuntarily he shuddered. To be touched by Harry right now moved him more than he could bear.

“He isn’t dead.” Harry’s voice was definitely too close to Draco’s ear.

Draco didn’t want to, but what he heard made him turn his head towards Harry without thinking twice. Of course he shouldn’t have done that. The well-known warmth in the emerald eyes that were intently watching him made his stomach jump up into his throat. He couldn’t prevent a violent coughing fit.

Hermione shook his arm excitedly. Gratefully Draco turned towards her, glad to escape those knowing eyes. “Draco. Just look. It’s quite easy, you’ll see!” She pulled her wand and traced it through the air, quickly writing two words into the air.

Alldrick Peens

“Remember what I said about the vivid dreams I had when we were locked up in the cellar? One dream turned up repeatedly; it was Riddle waving his wand in the Chambers of Secrets.” Draco didn’t understand nearly half of what Harry was talking about. He gulped. Hermione looking up at him expectantly made him nervous. But Harry’s thumb gently stroking the skin of his forearm threatened to evoke a feeling close to panic. Harry went on talking, and this time Draco didn’t repeat his mistake of glancing in Harry’s face, not even when he heard Harry’s soft chuckle.

“Interesting subject, the subconsciousness is…I’ll never underestimate it again.” Now Harry was smiling; Draco knew it without looking at him. “It didn’t take long to figure out that one. Peens must have faked his death somehow; probably he sensed his wife had it in for him. And since he was one of Lord Voldemort’s most faithful admirers, he undoubtedly prided himself on being able to copy the actions of his master and create a new identity. I compared the names as soon as I could lay my hand on a scrap of parchment. Since the paper got lost -- Hermione?”

Hermione nodded happily and waved her wand once. Immediately the letters floating in the air rearranged themselves:

Lander Pickles

Draco stared so hard his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Fucking, hateful Pickles was honourable Alldrick Peens? But -- if that was true, that could only mean that…

“Pickles is Blaise Zabini’s father,” Hermione completed Draco’s train of thought triumphantly.

“NOOOO!”

All of them turned their heads around fast towards Ron, similarly taken aback by his sudden scream.

Ron’s legs must have given way; he was kneeling on the ground, covering his face with his hands. It was scary to watch his fingers cramp spasmodically, and, as if they had a life of their own, start to knead his facial muscles ruthlessly.

“Ron…” Hermione stared at her husband dumbfounded, not able to utter another word.

Abruptly the fingers stopped tormenting the sensitive flesh and clenched into fists. With a swiftness nobody had expected, Ron got to his feet. His face twisted into an indescribable grimace. Fixating on Harry’s face, his blue eyes flickered unsteadily like those of a madman.

“Ron?” Harry’s low voice, trembling slightly, betrayed his worry.

“WhaddidIdofothelovofmerlinwhadthehelldidIdo?” Babbling incoherently, Ron shook his fists wildly.

“Ron!” Harry’s voice was still low, but now it held a demanding undertone.

Ron staggered forward, his wand hand groping thin air until he reached Harry. His fingers grabbed Harry’s shirt and pulled him close.

“I messed it all up. Today I messed up everything,” Ron groaned loudly. “Oh, Merlin, help me.” A sound like a suppressed sob followed. “But I didn’t know!” Shouting, Ron let go of Harry’s shirt. “How could I have known?”

Draco saw Harry’s eyelids twitch as Ron slapped his own forehead violently with his open palm. Words were tumbling out of Ron’s mouth rapidly now.

“I just did what I was told! What we all had agreed on. I was to hurry over to the Ministry and deliver that blasted silver spoon to the Auror in charge.” Ron shoved the knuckles of his fist into his mouth and bit on them, hard.

“And?” Harry asked, although his expression showed clearly that he already knew the answer, just like all of them did.

Ron’s voice toppled over as he bellowed desperately.

“I handed over Pickles’s transfigured body to Blaise fucking Zabini!”