Of Butterflies in a Hurricane

*

"Do not lie to me."

"M-my lord, they were better prepared than we had expected."

Voldemort rose from his throne-like chair and glared down at the Death Eater before him. His scarlet eyes flashed as he watched the Death Eater beseech himself.

"What were your orders, Rodolphus?" Voldemort hissed in his high and cold voice.

The Death Eater, Rodolphus, visibly restrained himself from shuddering at the tone from his master. "W-we were to follow the Potter boy and his companions, learn his habits, his weaknesses, whom he trusts, what he does..." Rodolphus trailed off. He knew he had done wrong.

"Did I order you to attack them?" Voldemort asked, his voice full of cold malice.

"No, my lord," he answered, his head bowed to the floor in his shame and fear.

"And yet, you did, despite my orders," Voldemort commented, in a would-be calm voice, but his words held promise of pain.

"My lord," Rodolphus intervened quickly. "It was not my idea. I tried to stop them, I--"

"Liar," Voldemort hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously as Rodolphus tried to defend himself. He quickly stopped talking. "You did not stop them. You were eager for battle. Perhaps following my instructions had become boring for you? Perhaps you hungered for some action? Perhaps serving me does not appeal to you anymore."

"No, my lord, I--"

"Enough! Perhaps the time is right to remind you why you entered into my service."

Rodolphus' eyes widened as Voldemort fingered his wand lovingly; Voldemort's scarlet eyes narrowed as he continued to watch him. He walked slowly toward Rodolphus, circling around him in the low-lit room. Rodolphus shuddered and braced himself for the inevitable pain.

"One more thing, Rodolphus," Voldemort commented suddenly, still circling the trembling man. "Where is Potter now? What has become of him?"

"I... I don't know, my lord," Rodolphus responded quietly. "We can't locate him."

"You let him escape?" Voldemort's tone was soft and foreboding.

"W-we tried but he Disapparated before we were well enough to follow him. Instead, we tended to Shunpike and Nott."

"Your carelessness may have cost us much," Voldemort said quietly. "You are not to help the injured. Leave them behind and go after Potter. That is your only job... and you have failed."

Rodolphus' eyes became rounder as Voldemort advanced on him once more. "No, my lord, please! I beg of you! Don't--"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the screams of excruciating pain that issued from his mouth as Voldemort lowered his wand. Rodolphus writhed on the ground, screams of horror echoing around the small room.

Inside his dark room, Draco's head snapped up, staring across the room where he knew the door to be. He listened for a few moments as a man's shrieks of pain seeped through the walls. Beside him, Nagini slithered closer to the door, her head raised as if it interested her greatly.

The screams eventually ceased and Nagini came back to Draco. He could have sworn he saw a look of triumph gleaming in her narrowed eyes. She saw him watching and let out a low hiss as she slithered into a ball next to his feet.

I have got to get out of here, Draco thought, staring down at the resting snake.

Outside, Voldemort lifted his wand, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips. "Do you remember why you are here, Rodolphus?"

The man on the floor pushed himself upright, his arms shaking and barely holding his weight. He nearly collapsed once or twice but was finally able to stand up. "Yes, my lord," he murmured.

"And you will follow my orders?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You may go."

Rodolphus started across the room but stopped as Voldemort's cruel voice floated back to him. "I expect better service in the future. Next time I may not be so generous." Rodolphus inclined his head barely then left the room.

Voldemort gave a satisfied smile and settled himself back in his throne-like chair in the middle of the room, his eyes wandering to a door opposite him where he knew a blond boy waited to receive his punishment in the days to come.

***

Harry sat in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place staring blankly at the blank portrait next to his bed. At the moment, he could hear no noises coming from it. He supposed Phineas was busy at Hogwarts.

On his bed sat the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. It was open, but he wasn't looking at it. He had been, but he was much too preoccupied with thoughts of other things to concentrate on learning new spells.

He sighed audibly and shut the book, pushing it to the side. He didn't know where Ron and Hermione were at the moment. He had been up in his room all morning. He couldn't stand not doing anything, but he couldn't figure out what to do! He needed to find a Horcrux and quickly. It would not do well if Voldemort attempted an actual attack and Harry had no chance.

At that moment, an owl came swooping in his window. He was surprised. No owls knew where Grimmauld Place was save Hedwig and the Weasley's owls. He looked at it closely; it appeared to be a school owl. Clutched in its beak was a thick letter bearing the Hogwarts crest.

Harry took the envelope and the owl took off out the window. Harry supposed McGonagall had told the owl where to go. He looked back at the letter and slit it open. On the first sheet of parchment were the familiar words,

Dear Mr. Potter,

The new term will begin on September the First, leaving from King's Cross station. A list of next years' books is enclosed.

-Professor Sinistra, Deputy Headmistress

Harry read the letter and cold feeling seeped into his stomach. McGonagall was no longer the Deputy Headmistress. She was the Headmistress. He suddenly felt a wave of fury as he stared at the letter.

Grabbing it, he tore it into a million tiny pieces, littering his bedspread with its remnants.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, tearing the miniscule pieces even smaller. When he was done, he sat on his bed, breathing deeply, trying to control his temper. For some reason beyond his control, tiny pinpricks of tears gathered at the corners of his eyes as he stared down at his paper-littered bed.

He took a shaky breath, willing himself not to cry. He stared hard at the bed, holding back the gathering tears. Finally, he took a breath and closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, he took his hand and swept the pieces to the floor, watching them flutter down lightly.

He gave a start as there was a sudden knock on the door. He told himself to calm down then called to whoever it was. "Come in!"

The door creaked open slowly and someone stepped tentatively into the room. Harry looked up and then an elated smile came across his features. He bounded from his bed, rushing for the visitor.

"Remus!"

Remus Lupin smiled sadly as Harry stopped in front of him, looking at him happily. Remus gave Harry a light hug and Harry grinned. They walked back over to the bed and sat down.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked eagerly. He hadn't expected to see someone from the Order so soon.

"I came to see how you were doing," Remus replied, unable to hide the seriousness in his voice. "And Molly would kill me if I didn't. You haven't forgotten this is the Headquarters for the Order?"

"Well, no, but I haven't seen anyone except Ron and Hermione for that past couple days."

"Well, you wouldn't," Remus told him. "Most of them are out... doing duty." He didn't elaborate and Harry didn't ask. "But how are you, Harry? No one's heard anything since you left the Burrow."

"I'm okay," Harry said, shrugging. "Hermione fixed my arm pretty well. It still kind of stings sometimes, but I think it just needs some time."

"Heal? Why did she need to heal you?" Remus' voice was suddenly full of sharp concern.

Harry looked confused for a second then remembered. "Oh," he said, realizing. "You don't know. Well, we were attacked."

"What?!" Remus exclaimed, staring at Harry.

Harry shrugged and told him all about their little run-in with the Death Eaters. When he was done, Remus just stared at him, a dark shadow passing over his face.

"I knew you weren't safe," he said darkly. "Harry, you shouldn't have gone off like this."

"But I have to!" Harry said pleadingly.

"But why? Why can't you stay where you're safe, with the Order? Can't you do whatever it is from there?"

"No, I--" Harry stopped. He couldn't tell Remus one of the most pressing reasons for his running away.

"You what?"

"I just have to do this on my own. I just have to," Harry said lamely. He wanted to tell Remus about Draco, that he needed to save him and, in order to do that, he had be stealthy, search for him, find him and get him alone. It was too dangerous otherwise. No more people needed to die because of him.

Remus looked at him and shook his head sadly. Harry was like a son to him. To lose him would be disastrous, not only for the wizarding world. Remus didn't want to lose Harry. He thought he must worry about him nearly as much as Mrs. Weasley did.

"Alright, Harry," he agreed reluctantly. "But be careful. Obviously, you aren't safe anywhere. Voldemort must have his Death Eaters keeping tabs on you. Who knows what they've learned already."

Harry nodded. He had figured that out already. He wondered why they had attacked more than anything else. It just didn't seem very intelligent to attack with only four people, even if they did outnumber them.

"Can you believe it was Stan?" Harry asked. "And I actually fought for him!"

"We can't always tell people's true characters, Harry. Don't feel too bad about it," Remus said consolingly. "Who knows what Voldemort offered him for service. We may never know. The most we can hope is that he'll learn his lesson by the end."

"He might already be dead..." Harry said slowly. "I don't know if they saved him from my curse."

Remus gave Harry a sad look. "Harry, in war you can't have regrets. There is no sympathy for your enemy, especially if they have none for you. The Death Eaters will show you no mercy. Giving them some would be a mistake. You'll learn that."

Harry looked at Remus, sitting in silence. His words were hauntingly true and Harry knew it. He had to face the reality of war. People were going to die and you weren't allowed to question your decisions. What happens, happens and there was no way to stop it.

"Yeah, I know," Harry said softly, averting his gaze to his bedspread.

Remus nodded and stood up from the bed. "I have to go, Harry, but I'm glad you're safe for now. Please try to remain that way." Harry looked up to see Remus giving him a sad smile. Harry nodded and Remus turned from him, opening the door and disappearing into the landing beyond.

Harry sighed as the door shut quietly behind him. He glanced around the room as if searching for some form of comfort. He wished Draco was there. He needed him to tell him it would be okay; that he was doing the right thing.

The snake on his bracelet let out a tiny hiss and Harry looked down at it. It was looking at him; its miniscule green scales glittered in the sunlight coming in the window. The clouds had finally broken but still lingered. The sun was pushing through a tiny hole and into the dingy room in which Harry was.

Harry's glance moved from the snake and landed on his bag that was propped up against the bedpost. He hesitated a second then snatched it up, opening it and taking out the mini Pensieve. He un-shrunk it and set it on the bed in front of him.

The silvery contents swirled innocently, twinkling in the sunlight. Harry took his wand and prodded the top as always, hoping that, maybe this time, it might show something useful.

He bent over the top as a room materialized in the basin. It was a room Harry recognized. It was the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, just one story below. Harry was confused as to why this memory of his was surfacing. He squinted his eyes, looking into the Pensieve, trying to make out what was going on, but he couldn't see much but a few people standing in the room.

He decided it might be worth it to take a look, so he took a deep breath and plunged, head first, into the swirling fog. He fell through nothingness for awhile until he found his feet firmly planted on the ground in Grimmauld Place's drawing room.

He saw himself, Ron, Hermione, the twins, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny all standing around a large bookshelf. Harry remembered cleaning off that bookshelf several years ago; the summer he had spent at Grimmauld Place.

"Alright, you lot," Mrs. Weasley said. "There are a lot of foul things on these shelves, so be careful."

Harry saw the twins exchange mischievous looks before starting to take things off the shelves, every so often slipping something in their pockets. Harry wondered why he had come into this memory. There was nothing significant about it.

He watched as a black box bit Sirius' hand, causing it to develop a crusty shell.

"Must be Wartcap Powder in there," Pensieve Sirius said to the rest of the group.

Harry watched at the "cleaning" went on, seeing things being tossed into a bag quite unceremoniously. He was getting quite bored and wondering when the memory might end so he could go back to laying on his bed, feeling guilty for lying about while Draco was in danger.

The door creaked open but Harry took no notice, still watching as everyone threw random junk into the sacs. It wasn't until something walked right through him that Harry noticed another presence in the room.

Kreacher, the house-elf, was sidling up to the bag covertly, making sure everyone else was dually occupied before dipping his hand inside and quietly rummaging through the discarded treasures.

Harry rolled his eyes and sneered at the ugly elf. He despised Kreacher with all his might no matter what Dumbledore or Hermione had ever told him. He watched the dirty house-elf quietly riffle through the sac, sneaking things into his loincloth.

Kreacher bent over the sac, secretly looking for things to smuggle away. He came out with something from the bottom of the bag that caught Harry's attention. A glitter of gold shimmered in the dingy light. None of the people in the room noticed a thing, still intent on wresting things from the shelves.

Harry moved forward, looking closely at the object in Kreacher's hand. It was a rather large, golden locket. Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the locket. His heart nearly stopped as he watched Kreacher slip it under his loincloth along with all his other treasures and sneak from the room.

Harry followed after him, a furious pounding in his ears as Kreacher slipped from the room. Harry wrenched open the door to follow him but all he found was white mist. He stopped for a second, but he had to follow Kreacher. He took a step forward and, all of a sudden, felt a falling sensation. Next thing he knew, he was back on his bed in Grimmauld Place, staring at the Pensieve in horrified recognition.

The memories were once again a silver blur as he stared unseeingly at the top of the basin. His mind was a whirl with thoughts as he relived what he'd just witnessed. How could he have been so stupid?

He bolted off the bed, heart pounding madly. He had to find that locket! He looked around like the room might tell him where it was. He stopped after a minute, realizing that was no way to go about it. There was only one way to find out how that memory ended.

"Kreacher!"


~~**~~

A/N: OMG, I love the next chapter! I'm so happy we're finally getting somewhere. Please review!