Small Fires: A Bedtime Story for SoftObsidian74

8.

~ the light of the dark black night~



Consciousness returns, but not all at once. It comes back slowly, painfully, in tiny, agonizing bursts of near-awareness, and Harry blinks rapidly.



The man in front of him... he knows him. Or does he? Harry is too confused, too disoriented to be certain



“Mr. Harry Potter,” the silky, gentle voice says. “We meet again. What a pleasure.”



“Lucius,” Harry spits the name out of his mouth like it\'s poison.



Lucius laughs benignly.



“You\'ve been so brave,” he says mockingly. “So very brave. All of you. You know how we found you?”



Harry blinks again, only to realize that his glasses are gone. It figures.



He\'s restrained. Shackles encircle his wrists, binding him to a wet, cold stony wall. He looks around. Hermione is on his right. Ron, his left.



Fuckitall. All three of them, captured.



Another form emerges from the shadows. A smaller, thinner copy of Lucius. Draco.



“It was the fires,” Draco say calmly. “I\'m sure you know the story of Hansel and Gretel? That was quite a trail of breadcrumbs you three left for us. Thank you for that.”



Harry turns his head and sees that Hermione\'s face is contorted with anguish. He knows she\'s blaming herself. Blaming herself for making them light those small, tiny, brief, barely noticeable fires that proved to be their undoing.



He wants to say something, reassure her, but no words come. Harry feels Lucius\'s hand on his cheek, petting it with absent-minded, cruel tenderness.



“Such a brave child,” Lucius purrs. “Much braver than Remus, or Tonks. Much, much braver.”



Draco\'s face scrunches up, forming a hideous scowl.



“Want to know how they died, Potter?” He taunts. “Do you?”



Harry\'s breath catches in his throat. He doesn\'t, not really.



“We waited until full moon,” Draco says triumphantly. “Lupin took his Wolfsbane, of course. Sadly enough, he was under Imeprius when he attacked Tonks and ate half of her, until my father ended the curse. Once he knew what he had done, he just let us do whatever we wanted with him.” A genuinely ugly, crooked smile appears on Draco\'s lips. “And we did. It took him five hours to die. He didn\'t fight, you know. He just hung there. The Thestrals sensed his distress and came for him, you see. We killed them. One by one. He watched them die.”



Harry shakes his head mutely.



“All in all, Lupin had it easy,” Draco muses. “Unlike Snape. Who was begging me to kill him at the end. Just like you will.”



Harry shakes his head again. He can\'t believe any of it. Can\'t believe that Tonks died so senselessly. Can\'t believe that Remus went down without a fight. Can\'t believe that it was Draco who killed Snape. Can\'t. Just can\'t.



Too much, he thinks. Too much.



“Hey, Malfoy,” Ron says hoarsely. “Remember when you were doing the Dementor imitations in class, making fun of Harry, and I threw a crocodile heart at you, and Snape took points from me, and not you?”



Draco stares at him blankly. “What are you blabbering about?”



Ron chuckles quietly. “Remember when you insulted my family, and I grabbed you, and Snape appeared, and even though Hagrid told him you provoked me, he still took points from Gryffindor, and let you go without a reprimand?”



“If there\'s a point to this, Weasley, it\'s continuing to elude me,” Draco says humorlessly.



“Oh, for christ\'s sake!” Hermione snaps. “Snape knew you since you were a baby, Draco! He probably bottlefed you and changed your nappies! No matter what anyone said about you, he always took your side, because in his eyes you could do no wrong!”



“What\'s your bloody point?!!!” Draco screams now.



“He loved you,” Harry says.



Madness flashes in Draco\'s eyes and he punches Harry in the face. Hard. Harry issues a sharp hiss, as his mouth fills with blood.



Draco is shaking. Lucius rests his hand on Draco\'s shoulder, and Draco regains his calm. He still looks quite mad, but it\'s a calm, controlled kind of madness.



Lucius speaks next. “Let me put this to you very simply, little children. That you\'ll suffer and die, is unavoidable. The only question is, whether we\'ll feed your bodies to Greyback, or Nagini.”



“Nagini, I think,” Draco says coldly. “She should eat some more before she hibernates.”



“True,” Lucius agrees.



The two of them leave.



Harry strains against the restraints. They\'re secure. There\'s no escaping. He continues to struggle in the bonds anyway. Blood trickles from his split lip, tiny drops falling on his shirt.



He hears crying, soft, quiet, bitter.



“Hermione...”



“I\'m sorry!” she cries out. “Harry!”



“It\'s ok,” Harry says. “Doesn\'t hurt.”



“I\'m sorry,” she whispers, sobbing. “So sorry, it\'s all my fault, if not for the fires....”



“Hermione,” Harry snaps. “Stop. It\'s not your fault.”



“It is my fault! We could have made it...”



“No,” Ron says suddenly. He sounds more tired, and yet, more wise than Harry ever remembers him being capable of. “Maybe we could have made it, but it\'s not your fault. All of this is Voldemort\'s fault. If you blame yourself, you\'re letting him off the hook. So... don\'t.”



Hermione screams, and her voice echoes through the holding cell.



“Hermione,” Ron says softly. “That\'s an order. My last order as your commanding officer. Stop this nonsense. Don\'t blame yourself.”



Shockingly enough, she manages to clam herself somehow.



“I like that,” she murmurs quietly.



“Like what?” Ron asks.



Harry is between them, listening to the two of them.



“Like you giving orders. Give me another order.”



“All right then. Teach me to sing.”



Harry smiles.



Hermione laughs nervously. “Ron. You couldn\'t carry a tune if it were knocked unconscious and had a handle on it.”



“I know,” Ron says softly. “Teach me anyway.”



Harry shuts his eyes, and listens to her nervous, uneven breathing.



Then, she starts to sing.



Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.



Harry shuts his eyes blissfully, and listens to her quiet, trembling voice.



Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to be free.



The second time around, Ron\'s voice joins hers. Ron\'s singing is really terrible, Harry thinks. He also thinks it doesn\'t matter.



Blackbird fly,

Blackbird fly

Into the light

of the dark black night.



“How\'d I do?” Ron asks.



Hermione shifts slightly, and her restraints scrape against the wall. “Well...” she says noncommittally.



“Don\'t quit your day job, Ron,” Harry says, and then, deliberately adds insult to injury, “whatever it is that you do...”



They laugh together, a little hysterically, Harry thinks. But that\'s fine, too.



“Do you really think he\'ll torture us for weeks?” Hermione asks.



“I doubt it,” Harry says reasonably. “He knows he has to kill me in order to end this. I reckon he isn\'t going to drag it out... much.”



“Good,” Ron says. “Too bad we didn\'t get the information back to the Order though.”



“It\'s all right,” Harry says. “Someone else will, in time.”



“You really think so?” Hermione asks dubiously.



“I know so,” Harry says.



He believes it. Someone else will do what they had failed to do. One day, someone else will trek through the Enchanted Forest, learn the secret of Voldemort\'s immortality, and carry the information back to the Order. Maybe Neville, Luna and Hannah will... maybe Charlie, Bill and Angelina. He doesn\'t mind. Let it be someone else. Let it be someone else to end the war, and get the glory. Let someone else step in, and carry on.



As their journey ends, someone else\'s will begin. Life is like that, he thinks.



He hums quietly.



Blackbird fly,

Blackbird fly

Into the light

of the dark black night...



To Be Continued...