Potter fumbled for his wand. “Impedimenta!” he yelled; the jet of red light ricocheted off the spider and hit Weasley, who froze. “Crap,” Potter muttered.
“Hit the underbelly, Harry!” bellowed Bill, raising his wand. “And DUCK! STUPEFY!”
Bill’s jet of red light missed the targeted belly. It hit the spider’s face; the arachnid staggered backwards. The Impedimenta was wearing off of Weasley; his face conveyed pure terror as he took a step backwards. He was trying to get his wand, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t get ahold of it.
Bill valiantly shot off another spell, and this one knocked the spider over. Weasley crept back to them timidly. “Is it…dead?” he asked.
“No,” said Bill, shaking his head, “it’s not, but it’s knocked out pretty good. Let’s get out of here before we set off more booby traps.”
They set off. “Why are they called booby traps, anyway?” asked Weasley, shuddering as he stepped over the spider’s outstretched, hairy legs. “It makes me think of…well, you know. Girl stuff.” He tripped on another spider leg and landed sprawled on the ground. Scowling, he picked himself up.
“Ron, grow up,” scolded Bill. “There are more important things to think about besides female anatomy.”
“What’s more important than that?” Weasley whispered to Potter. Potter laughed.
Luckily, they escaped from under Gringotts without any other booby traps going off on them. They exited the building and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. As they entered, they were ambushed by Granger and Ginny. “What happened? Did you find it?” asked Ginny excitedly. “You’d better tell me, or I’m going to hex you!”
“Ginny, lie back down,” said Bill. “There’s nothing to get excited about. We found nothing. All we found is that someone’s tampered with the vaults.”
Ginny swore under her breath. “So where do we go from here?”
Bill shrugged. “I have no idea.” He collapsed on the couch next to Ginny. “I really don’t know. It’s frustrating to be so close, you know?”
“Maybe we don’t need a key,” suggested Weasley. “I mean, maybe we could blast through it or something.”
“I tried,” said Potter dismally. “It’s magically protected, though.”
They lapsed into silence.
“Maybe Malfoy’s got a lead for us,” said Granger a few minutes later. “I wonder how he is. Perhaps we should contact him.”
The five of them had no idea, of course, that Malfoy had left the Malfoy manor and was, in fact, under a psuedonym masquerading as a faithful Death Eater. They were assuming that he was hiding out in his house, or at least hiding.
They had no way of knowing what Malfoy was up to at that very moment…
* * * * * * * * * *
At that precise moment, as Granger was speculating the possible benefits of contacting Malfoy, Malfoy, known as Neville Barker, was playing Exploding Snap with a gang of other young Death Eaters.
He didn’t know any of them; some he vaguely recognized as young Slytherins from Hogwarts, but not many. There was one in particular, a man who went by the name of Mark Haugen, who was really getting on Malfoy’s nerves. He was loud, obnoxious, and rude, and each time he opened his mouth, Malfoy had an overpowering urge to hex him into another universe.
A young man who couldn’t have been more than seventeen placed a card on top of the castle and it exploded with a BANG! Clearing the smoke away, Mark said authoritatively, “Come on now, Derek, where’s your head? That was too obvious.”
Derek muttered something under his breath. Malfoy couldn’t make it out, but it was undoubtedly an insult. Mark, it seemed, had understood what Derek had said. He rose to his feet angrily. “How dare you say that about me! I’m more important to the Dark Lord than you will ever be. I’m one of his most trusted advisors! He’s told me the location of something vital to his survival-” Mark turned pink, obviously thinking that he’d said too much.
Malfoy studied Mark. Could it be possible that Voldemort had told Mark something very, very important…like the location of the key to the trapdoor, for example? It certainly was a slim chance, but Malfoy had no other leads to this mystery.
The night was growing late, and one by one the group thinned out. Malfoy’s eyes were growing heavier by the second, and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Don’t leave yet, Mark, he prayed. He needed to be alone with Mark. He needed the information that Mark said he had.
Finally, everybody had left. It was almost midnight and Malfoy wanted nothing more than to sleep. But he forced himself to stay awake.
“Mark,” he said.
“Yeah?” asked Mark groggily. He was half-asleep, and drunk. Malfoy hoped he wouldn’t be too inebriated to tell him the whereabouts of the key…if he even knew.
“What you mentioned to Derek earlier…about knowing the location of something…”
“Yeah?” Mark sounded a bit more guarded, cautious now.
“Was it by any chance…a key?”
A sharp intake of breath from Mark confirmed Malfoy’s suspicions. “A key..? To what?”
“A trapdoor, and I think you already knew that.”
“Maybe I did,” said Mark after a few seconds. “But how did you?”
“That’s not important now. Where is the key?”
“That’s classified information. I can’t tell you.” Mark paused. “Unless there’s something in it for me.”
Malfoy had expected this. “Fine. Do you want to know what’s in it for you?”
“What?” Mark asked greedily.
Malfoy stood over Mark, who was slouched in an armchair, beer stains on his gray robes. “Your life.” He raised his wand.
Malfoy had no intentions of killing Mark; that would only complicate everything, and he didn’t need any more complications. But Mark didn’t know this. Mark thought that Malfoy was a ruthless Death Eater, and a Death Eater wouldn’t lose any sleep over murdering Mark Haugen. Malfoy snatched up Mark’s wand, though this was hardly necessary; Mark was too drunk to fight.
Mark’s eyes widened, shiftily darting around, not making contact with Malfoy’s own. “Oh,” he said softly. “I see.”
“Tell me,” said Malfoy in a threateningly soft voice.
“I…I don’t know exactly…the Dark Lord didn’t exactly tell me. I overheard him telling somebody else…”
“But you have a general idea,” cut in Malfoy sharply. “Now tell me.”
“It’s pretty far away from here. It’s well hidden, too. Without me, you won’t be able to find it.”
Malfoy jabbed his wand into Mark’s cheek. “Well, that’s not a problem now, is it?”
“I-uh, well, I guess not.”
“Take me to the key,” Malfoy demanded.
“Why?” asked Mark. “The only reason somebody would want the key is to get into the trapdoor, and all that’s down there is the Horcrux.”
“Because,” said Malfoy through gritted teeth, “if you don’t lead me to the key, you’re going to be very, very sorry.” To prove his resolve, he raised his wand and yelled, “Crucio!”
He lifted the spell a couple seconds later. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to make Mark squirm. Mark looked up at him with fear in his eyes. It made Malfoy feel guilty. Just a few months ago, the discomfort in Mark’s eyes would have been a source of mirth for Malfoy. Now it just made him feel like trash.
“Just come on,” Malfoy said. He hauled Mark to his feet; Mark wobbled a bit, then collapsed back down. He was in no condition to go anywhere.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Tomorrow night, then. Meet me here at midnight. And if you tell anybody about this, I will hunt you down and make sure you don’t live past the age of twenty.”
Mark gulped.
Malfoy stopped at the door and looked back at Mark. “I’m serious, you know.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day, Malfoy stayed out of sight as much as possible. He wanted to lay low, keep a low profile, and not draw any attention to himself. Voldemort was furious about his escape (though he didn’t know that he was in the Riddle mansion the whole time) and consequentially, nobody was in a very good mood, especially Snape.
He was relatively happy, though, happier than he’d been lately. He was finally going to get the key! Then he could get back to Potter, they could destroy the Horcrux, Potter could finish off Voldemort, and…then what? He’d be in a bad spot, still. But…at least all this would be over.
So Malfoy stayed away from the activity throughout the day. He stayed in an old bedroom, the door locked, and when midnight rolled around he crept out cautiously, looking both ways before stepping out into the corridor.
Hopefully Mark had held up…Malfoy didn’t think he was the most trustworthy person around, but then, in a house full of Death Eaters, you would be hard-pressed to find somebody trustworthy. Malfoy kept going, as quietly as possible, wincing on every creaky step (which were many.) But he made it unnoticed down to the room where they’d been playing Exploding Snap.
“Lumos,,” he muttered; the tip of his wand lit up, illuminating the room and casting shadows on the walls. Mark was nowhere to be seen. But Malfoy would wait a bit longer. Mark was likely to show. He was too cowardly not to.
Sure enough, just a few minutes later Malfoy heard footsteps. He sat up straighter in the armchair, trying to look authoritative. Just seconds later, the door opened a crack. Mark’s anxious face appeared. Malfoy beckoned imperiously.
Mark eased the door open wider and stepped inside, his eyes wide and fearful. Malfoy stood. “Good, you came.”
Mark nodded. “Yes,” he said. “But I was thinking, Barker.”
“Yes?” asked Malfoy.
“You say that if I don’t lead you to this key, you’ll kill me.”
“Yes,” said Malfoy, a bit too quickly. “I mean, er, yes, I most certainly will.”
“But if I do take you to the key,” Mark continued, “then Voldemort will kill me. So either way, I’m going to die, that’s how I see it. And personally, I’d rather die a faithful Death Eater than a traitor.”
Dammit. Mark was smarter than Malfoy had thought. “Well,” said Malfoy slowly, thinking furiously, “what if I…tell you that I can make sure Voldemort never finds out?”
Mark laughed out loud. “Yeah, right. The Dark Lord finds out everything!”
“He doesn’t have to,” said Malfoy darkly, though he knew it was true. Of course, if everything went well, then soon Voldemort would be dead, and unable to kill anybody. He couldn’t reveal this to Mark, of course. “But I’ll hide you.”
“Actually, a life in hiding doesn’t appeal to me,” argued Mark.
“It won’t be a lifetime,” replied Malfoy exasperatedly. “If all goes well it will be a month at most.”
“If what goes well?” asked Mark suspiciously.
Crap. “Er-um-see…” said Malfoy. “If…just trust me, Mark.”
Mark was wary. He was smart. Mark had, in fact, been inducted to the Death Eaters at age sixteen. Just one year later, he was quite savvy, and knew better than to trust. But Malfoy desperately needed him to.
“Please,” said Malfoy. His voice sounded very sincere. Mark wanted to trust him, but it wasn’t that easy. He still wasn’t convinced.
Come on, stupid, thought Malfoy. But he didn’t say anything. He locked eyes with Mark. Mark held his gaze for a long, long time, and finally said, “Okay.”
“Excellent,” said Malfoy. “Let’s go, then. You can Apparate, can’t you?”
“Yes!” said Mark indignantly. “I just don’t have a license. I’m good, though. I’ve only ever lost a toenail.”
“Yes, that’s great. Let’s just go,” said Malfoy, eager to get out of the Riddle mansion. He grabbed Mark’s arm for the Side-Along, and soon they were gone.
They ended up lying side-by-side in dewy grass. Malfoy leapt to his feet, shivering. The night air was chilly. Mark got up, too. “I think the key is buried this way,” he said, setting off.
They seemed to be in a depression between two short, stumpy, rounded hills, surrounded by many more similar ones. Malfoy had no idea exactly where they were, but that didn’t really matter. He followed Mark up a hill, losing his footing a few times because the dewy grass was slippery.
Mark stopped at the top of the hill. “Hurry up!” he called down to Malfoy, who wasn’t finding it as easy to climb up the hill.
“I’m coming,” was Malfoy’s reply. He lunged up the hill, hoping to make it to the top, but ended up sliding down on his front. Scowling, he grabbed a skinny tree’s trunk and righted himself; the front of his robes were soaking. He staggered up the last few feet. Mark was still waiting, laughing at him. Malfoy cuffed him on the side of the head. “Come on, just take me to the key.”
Mark obliged and kept walking. Soon they came to a gaping, dark cave. “This is it,” Mark announced, spreading his arms out grandly.
Malfoy pushed past him into the cave. “Lumos,” he muttered, illuminating the cave’s shadowy crevices. He could see nothing, only a few spiders scuttling on the walls, and cold water dripping from the ceiling. He turned to Mark. “Where is it?”
Mark had had the good sense not to run. He stepped meekly into the cave. “You go to the very back and there’s an incantation…”
Malfoy, dragging Mark along behind him, went to the back of the cave and studied the wall. “It doesn’t look any different,” he said. “What’s the incantation?”
“Here, let me do it.” Mark stepped in front of Malfoy and tapped the wall twice. He muttered something quietly that Malfoy couldn’t hear, but it worked. The cave’s rocky wall melted away, opening up to a tunnel leading to a round chamber.
Malfoy pushed Mark into the tunnel, then followed. Mark walked confidently into the chamber and Malfoy stayed close behind. In the middle of the chamber was a silver pedestal and lying innocently on top of it was a gleaming, tiny silver key, not tarnished at all.
It looked exactly right for the keyhole on Snape’s trapdoor. Excitement bubbled up in Malfoy. He stroked it lightly to see if anything would happen upon contact. Nothing did.
Malfoy lifted his hand and looked at Mark. “What’s going to happen when I take the key?” he asked.
Mark shrugged. “How should I know?”
Well, I’ll just have to take a chance, Malfoy thought, then grabbed the key.
Malfoy and Mark froze, waiting for something to happen. A pebble fell onto the shining pedestal with a slight clanging noise.
“RUN!” Malfoy shouted, but Mark was already gone, sprinting down the tunnel. Malfoy followed suit, his arms over his head and neck. The two of them barely made it out in time; just a couple seconds later, the entire cave collapsed.
Malfoy and Mark stood there a couple seconds, breathing hard. Malfoy grasped the key tightly in his hand. It was smooth and cold.
He lifted it up to examine it by moonlight. It was plain, but just holding it made Malfoy’s fingers tingle.
They were one step closer to vanquishing Voldemort.