Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

*

"Where is he?" Voldemort's high, cold voice filled the deadly silence.

"I don't know, my lord."

Voldemort's eyes flashed scarlet as he glared at the Death Eater in front of him. "Why don't you know where he is? He can't be that difficult to track. He is only seventeen!"

"My lord, I don't know," the Death Eater said swiftly, prostrating himself before him. "I have found traces but they aren't enough to indicate where he is."

"Lucius, you are trying my patience," Voldemort hissed. "He should have been found by now."

"Yes, my lord," Lucius replied quickly, seeing the anger building behind the slit-like eyes.

"Perhaps you need some inspiration to find him," Voldemort said silkily, taking out his wand and fingering it lovingly, passing it through his long, spidery fingers.

Lucius' eyes widened. "No, my lord!" he said quickly. "Please, I will find him! I will, please, let me look!"

Voldemort paused in his fingering and regarded Lucius seriously. "If you fail me again, there will be no other chance."

Lucius nodded and bowed low, grateful for the escape. He knew he was incredibly lucky and could not count on this again. "Thank you, my lord," he murmured. "I will not fail."

"See that you don't," Voldemort replied in a deadly cool voice. Lucius bowed again and backed out of the room.

Once he was gone, Voldemort turned angrily to look out the lone window in the cell; the window that had not always been visible. His followers were disappointing him. The only one he could count on, it seemed, was Zabini. He delivered his information in a timely manner and it was always useful.

The list he had given him had proved to be quite informative. He had weeded out the spies among his rank and was marginally confident that he had gotten them all. Of course, there had to be a few he had missed since that damn Order still managed to find out about their attacks.

He hadn't heard anything from Macnair and assumed him dead. It wasn't a big loss. There were plenty like him. What was most irking him was that no one had been able to locate Draco or Potter. It had been nearly two months since they had lost Potter and a month since the loss of Draco. Someone should have seen them somewhere!

He couldn’t believe that two teenagers could be so well-protected and intelligent enough to hide themselves so thoroughly. He had known there was a reason he had wanted Draco for a Death Eater. The only problem with that was that, apparently, Draco hadn't wanted to. He had seemed so eager at the beginning...

Voldemort turned from the window, thinking that perhaps a meeting with his followers was in order... to remind them what was due when serving the Dark Lord. A cruel smirk twisted his features as he pressed the Dark Mark on his forearm and summoned them to him.

***

Lucius appeared in a crack in front of an old, decrepit house. The vines twisted angrily over the gutters and the heavy mist enclosed around him.

Lucius simply sneered at the location and stepped over a fallen log in the path. He walked up the stairs and slammed the door open unceremoniously, taking out his anger on the inanimate object. He strode into the room and looked around at the ruined living room.

The stump of a table stood in the corner, charred and blackened. Lucius moved swiftly over to it and then noticed the blood on the floor. He bent down carefully and rubbed his finger in it. It had soaked into the floor and Lucius knew it had been there for quite a while; most likely when the battle had taken place.

He stood up carefully and eyed the kitchen door suspiciously. He moved over to it and pushed it open suddenly, crashing it off its hinges. There was no one there. Lucius' expression darkened as he looked around the room.

He didn't know why he expected to find Draco at Godric's Hollow; something had just told him it would be so. But Draco wasn't there. The house was empty, as it should have been. Lucius sighed angrily, knowing he had hit yet another dead end.

He had to find Draco soon or the consequences would be dire. Voldemort would no longer restrain his temper as he had been so generous to do lately. Lucius couldn't imagine how Draco was evading him so easily. It was he, after all, who had taught Draco all he knew about the Dark Arts. Surely, he would be able to find him.

Lucius turned from the kitchen and went back into the living room, determined to figure out where Draco had gone. He left the house through the front door and walked around to the back.

Once there, he searched through the curling bushes, looking for any trace of anything that might help him. He pushed his way through the brambles that twisted up the sides of the house, holding on for dear life. The sight of them made him angry for some unknown reason. He wanted to tear down the thorns, rip them from their place on the house.

He restrained himself, though, knowing it would do no good and would be worse for him. If he did that, it would disturb the look of the place and people would become suspicious. Instead, he forced himself to turn away from the vines that made him so angry.

He moved further away from the house, searching the ground closely. He knew Draco would have to mess up eventually. And when he did, Lucius would find out.

Twenty feet from the back door, Lucius came to the point where the forest had crept up around the house. The dark trees towered above him ominously, threatening to engulf him if he went one step further.

Lucius scowled at the trees before him and turned away, walking along the perimeter instead. He followed it around the side of the house and stopped suddenly as he caught sight of something on the ground. He stooped down immediately for a closer look.

On a fallen leaf was a puddle of water that pooled in its middle. Inside the puddle was a glimmering symbol. Lucius picked up the leaf carefully and examined the symbol. It looked to Lucius as the leaf had been used as a mirror to see another place, something he had taught Draco long ago. It came in very useful while spying.

Lucius squinted closely at the leaf, now seeing that the he was looking at a miniature model of the Malfoy Manor. The tall, white house rose elegantly in the tiny puddle of water, a mere remnant of what Draco had been looking at.

Lucius' eyes widened and he dropped the leaf, knowing that Draco had gone to the Manor. In a pop, he had Apparated away to find his son and teach him the meaning of loyalty.

***

Draco crept cautiously behind the dark buildings and store backs, concealed under his Invisibility Cloak. Even though he was invisible, he still didn't feel safe. He moved carefully around the back of a store and to its front, peering out cautiously.

Down the street, he could see groups of students huddled together and moving carefully as if afraid to be out too long. Draco waited patiently behind the store until a group passed right by him, walking swiftly up the lane and to the castle beyond.

He followed them closely all the way up to the gates where an Auror was waiting to allow them into the castle. The wards were undone and they slipped inside, Draco as well. He let the students walk on ahead of him and lingered back, staring up at Hogwarts castle.

It had been some months since he had seen the place. He hadn't thought he ever would again. His gaze was caught by the Astronomy tower that stood tall and white against the dark grey sky. Draco shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around himself, though he wasn't entirely sure it was because of the cold.

He forced himself to look away from the tower and made for the oak front doors. Looking around carefully, he slipped inside them. He was sure to keep his Invisibility Cloak on at all times. He knew there were members of the Order in the castle and he was in no hurry to be captured again, either by them or the Death Eaters.

He moved carefully through the crowds of people, taking extra precaution not to step on anyone's foot. Finally, he made it to the base of the marble staircase. For a moment, he wondered where he ought to go. He watched the students pass, completely unaware of his presence.

He wondered how they could seem so carefree when there was a war going on right outside their front door. Did they understand nothing of the horrors that went on? The killings, the sacrifices?

Draco shook his head, almost wanting to whip off his cloak and yell at them for their naivety. He knew he couldn't, though. It would be far too dangerous.

He was about to go up the staircase when he caught the end of a conversation someone was having as they passed by.

"... Weasley died. It was in the Prophet. Something about a fight with a Death Eater. I knew they were fighting already!"

Draco jumped off the stairs, intending to find the speaker, but the voice was lost in the crowd as they surged on. Disappointed, he moved back to a safe spot where he wouldn't be in danger of being stepped on and sat down, thinking hard.

A Weasley had died. Which one? Draco really wanted to know now. If it had been Ron, then Harry couldn't be safe! If had been one of the others, it was of no real consequence. Draco now desperately wanted to know more. He had to know if it had been Ron. If Ron was dead, then Harry would be devastated. Ron had been his best friend. No matter how much Draco had detested the red-head, he couldn’t help but admit the kind of effect his death might have on Harry.

Draco stood up from his spot on the floor, determined to find out more. He wound his way cautiously down the stairs and followed the crowd that was entering the Great Hall for dinner. He slipped in with the rest of them, holding his cloak tightly around himself to stop anyone from tripping over him.

Once or twice, someone stumbled, but they merely blamed it on the floor and moved on. Relieved, Draco moved to the wall and waited until most people had taken their seats. Then he began prowling up and down the tables, listening for any snatch of conversation that might be useful.

As he neared the head table, he couldn’t help notice how empty it seemed without Dumbledore sitting in the middle chair, his twinkling eye surveying the hall. Draco felt a twist of guilt in his stomach and turned away quickly, having no desire to watch any more.

He moved, instead, along the Gryffindor table. He caught sight of Dean and Neville sitting together at the end of the table, leaned in closely to each other and speaking in whispers, occasionally shooting a furtive glance around the table to make sure that no one was listening in.

Draco found this highly suspicious and moved up right behind them, hoping they wouldn't sense his presence.

"... Knew something was wrong," Dean was whispering to Neville, who nodded in agreement. "Harry was acting weird the whole time he was here. And now Ron died. What do you think they were doing?"

Draco felt his heart leap when Dean had mentioned Harry. Harry had been there and not too long ago by the sounds of it. He had been right; it had been Ron who had died. Draco knew Harry must be devastated.

"I don't know. They never told us, did they?" Neville whispered, casting another nervous glance along the table. "Whenever we asked, they just changed the subject. Do you think it had to do with You Know Who?"

"Of course it did," Dean whispered back. "Why else would Ron die in a fight with a Death Eater? You know, they didn't mention Harry in there. Do you think he's okay?"

"Maybe he wasn't with him when it happened," Neville suggested, though Draco could tell he really didn't believe that.

"I don't think so," Dean said uneasily. "Something's going on and they're not telling us everything. Why would Ron not be with Harry and Hermione? They never split up! He had to be there."

"Maybe the Prophet got it wrong," Neville offered.

"I doubt it," Dean said seriously. "Something is being covered up, big time."

Neville was about to respond when he turned suddenly and looked straight at Draco. Draco felt his heart stop momentarily as Neville looked through him. Neville seemed to think he had imagined a presence behind him, but said no more to Dean, turned away, and began eating his dinner in silence.

Draco knew it was no more use to listen anymore. Neville had become suspicious. Even with his tiny brain, he knew when he was being watched. It must be some internal thing, Draco thought.

He backed away from the table and left the Hall carefully, hiding himself behind a tapestry where he sunk down to the floor to think. Harry had been at Hogwarts but had left. Ron had died in an apparent Death Eater fight. It sounded to Draco like Dean didn't believe it, like there was more to the story. But he had a point; why would Harry not be mentioned with Ron? They were best mates. Surely, Harry would have been there to support Ron.

Draco didn't like the sound of it, not at all. A growing unease had begun in the pit of his stomach and he knew something was wrong with this whole picture. Draco wanted to find Harry; he needed to. It had been far too long since he had seen him safe and it killed him.

He had looked for him at Godric's Hollow already but had found little. He knew he had already been there. All that told him was that he had been too late.

Knowing that he was being searched for, Draco had left a fake trail to fool his father while he had gone on in search of Harry. He knew Harry's habits and that he couldn’t resist familiar places, no matter how awful. Draco had the sinking feeling that if he didn't find Harry soon, he would miss him forever.

~~**~~


A/N: Please review :)