Malfoy whipped around to see five or six familiar Death Eaters closing in on he and Ginny: Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood…it seemed as if Malfoy’s very blood had turned to ice that was pumping through his body mercilessly, chilling his bones and somehow hazing his vision. He fumbled for his wand but the minute he brought it out, Grayback snatched it away and pocketed it.
He cast a look at Ginny. Her face had gone pale under her fiery hair, but her chocolatey eyes showed more resolve than Malfoy’s ever could right now. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and glanced across the street.
Malfoy looked, too. It was Hagrid, the bumbling oaf from Hogwarts. Malfoy’s hope soared as he remembered that Ginny was here for school. Surely McGonagall was nearby…maybe they weren’t quite dead just yet.
But as Ginny and Malfoy had looked over at Hagrid, Rookwood had, too. “It’s the half-giant,” he snarled as Hagrid started running over, looking furious. “Grab them and get out of here!” Ginny kicked and flailed wildly against Rookwood’s grip, but Malfoy did not resist as Greyback seized his forearm and Apparated.
They arrived in the middle of a deserted, foggy graveyard. The tombstones were old and crumbled, the grass almost completely gone. The fence surrounding the area was torn and ripped in numerous places.
They’re going to kill me, Malfoy panicked. And Ginny, and it’ll be all my fault…
“So, Draco.” It was his own aunt, Bellatrix. “You decided to betray us and run off with Potter.” She said Potter’s name so contemptuously it momentarily stopped Malfoy’s heart.
Malfoy had no reply. Beside him Ginny was inching backwards, perhaps trying to make a break for it. Don’t, Malfoy urged her in his mind, they’ll catch you…
“You assisted in the murder of Voldemort.” This was Greyback. A frightening smile spread across his gaunt face. “But Voldemort’s not dead.”
“What?” Malfoy yelped, jumping backwards in alarm, as Ginny gasped loudly. He backed into Rookwood, who pushed him away roughly. “He is dead!” Malfoy cried. “I watched Potter kill him!”
“We know,” said Bellatrix sourly. She had once been a beautiful woman, but the hate on her face made her repulsive to look at. “But Potter forgot one thing.”
“Wha-what?” the word took tremendous effort from Malfoy. He was shaking so badly that he could hardly stand up anymore.
A truly evil fire ignited in each of the Death Eaters’ eyes and Greyback said, “There’s one more Horcrux.”
“No,” breathed Malfoy. “NO! I don’t believe you!”
“Do you want proof?” asked Greyback, a manic, malicious glint in his eyes.
Malfoy hesitated for a second. He glanced at Ginny. Her eyes were wide and the resolve set in them earlier had vanished. Now there was only fear, dark, horrible fear.
Greyback seized Malfoy’s left arm, wrenched up his sleeve, and took a knife from his robe. “Watch,” he hissed, and stabbed Malfoy’s arm with the dagger. Malfoy bit his lip to keep himself from crying out as he watched, horrified. His blood was spilling out his arm-but it was black. Ginny looked about to faint as his blood dried on his skin in the form of the Dark Mark.
And from the burning Malfoy felt in his arm, he knew it was true.
Lord Voldemort was back.
Malfoy looked up at Greyback, his eyes panicked and frenzied. Greyback smiled, satisfied, and snapped his fingers. Instantly Malfoy and Ginny and were bound tightly. Malfoy lost balance and fell to the ground, much to the Death Eaters’ amusement. “Come on,” Greyback rasped, “grab the kids, let’s get back. Voldemort is waiting.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Back at the Burrow, Potter was going crazy with worry, anxiety, and eagerness. He had convinced himself completely that when they arrived back at the Burrow, Ginny and Malfoy would be waiting. But they weren’t, and Potter was not happy about that.
“Where do you think they are?” he asked his friends for about the millionth time, and Weasley yelled, “Harry, we don’t know where they are! If you’re so impatient, why don’t you go to America yourself and find out?”
Potter considered this suggestion. “Where were they exactly, do you think?”
Granger rolled her eyes and groaned. “Come on, Harry. They’ll be back soon enough, okay?”
“Okay, okay.” Calm down,, he told himself. They’re both perfectly fine. It’s not like Voldemort’s around to kill them… he smiled at this, that he’d finally killed Voldemort, finished him. The prophecy was complete, he’d never have to worry about that again.
But…but he had thought that it would feel different. Like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders at last. But instead he felt that nothing was quite over yet and there was more danger coming. Potter trusted his instincts, and right now they were saying that his destiny wasn’t fulfilled yet. That Ginny was in danger, along with Malfoy. Then he remembered the famous Weasley clock.
Potter jumped to his feet and ran into the kitchen. The clock was hanging on the wall. There was Ron’s hand-home, Fred, George, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Percy at work, Mrs. Weasley shopping.
And Ginny….Mortal Peril.
Potter stood there, paralyzed, for a few seconds, while this chunk of shocking information wedged itself into his brain. Then he ran back over to where Weasley and Granger were sitting. “RON! HERMIONE!” he yelled. “GINNY’S IN TROUBLE!”
They jumped to their feet simultaneously. “What do we do?” asked Granger nervously. “I mean…she could be anywhere…”
Suddenly something clicked in Potter’s mind. Ginny had found Malfoy, in America. She was trying to bring him back here, but they weren’t here.
“Malfoy,” he said grimly. “He must have kidnapped her. The slimy, foul git!” Fury replaced Potter’s blood, flowing through his veins. Anger made his pulse quicken, his temples throb…was this payback for killing Malfoy’s father? Low, he thought. Even for you, Malfoy…I thought we were over our problems. And now you pull this revenge on me? Well, that’s fine, then. We don’t have to work together anymore…
Granger gasped. Weasley looked about ready to murder Malfoy. “That bloody idiot,” he muttered angrily. “Well Harry, what should we do? We don’t know where he has her…or maybe it’s a trap, and he’s waiting for you to come get her so he can finish you off…I mean, who knows?”
Potter sank back down into an armchair. “I don’t know,” he said.
Just then Granger pointed out the window and said, “Look, an owl!” Potter jumped up. Could it be from Malfoy or Ginny?
He didn’t recognize the darkly colored owl that flew through the window. He eagerly untied the letter and scanned it. But it was for Granger, from Ernie MacMillan. He tossed it to her, disappointed.
Granger read the letter aloud.
“Dear Hermione,
How are you doing? Well, it’s Ernie here. I promised I’d see about getting you a job at Gringotts, and I did! I put in a good word for you and they want to see you here for an interview as soon as possible. Whenever you’re ready, just come on in and say you’re Hermione Granger, Ernie MacMillan’s friend. They’ll know who you are. Well, see you soon here, and I look forward to working with you soon!
Best wishes,
Ernie MacMillan”
Granger looked up from the letter. “Well, I think I’ll just go now,” she said. “I mean, we’re not doing anything else right now. Okay with you guys?”
Weasley nodded mutely and sank into the couch, but Potter jumped up. “Can I come with you, Hermione?” he asked.
“Harry, you know you won’t be able to get into Snape’s vault. Just wait until I have the job, okay? Be patient! You’re going to get into horrible trouble if you try.”
“Come on Hermione, I just want to go. I won’t try anything stupid.”
Granger sighed. “Well, I suppose I can’t exactly stop you…”
Potter grinned. “True. You can’t.”
Weasley got to his feet. “I guess I’m coming too, then.”
Then the three friends Apparated to Gringotts.
Potter blinked in the bright sunlight. It was a warm, sunny day and his heavy robes were very hot. He loosened his collar and then hurried inside the bank.
Granger was already at the front desk, talking to a stooped, warty old goblin. “My name’s Hermione Granger,” she said clearly. “I’m a friend of Ernie MacMillan’s, he mentioned me? I’m looking for a job.”
The old goblin frowned. “What? Ernie MacMillan?”
“Yes, he’s about nineteen years old, relatively new here, I believe…”
“Do you know what department he works in, young lady?”
“Well…no…”
“I see. Perhaps you should try-”
No! thought Potter frantically, standing off to the side and listening to the conversation. She has to get this job! Potter took off his glasses and pocketed them, flattened his bangs over his scar. He strode over to the desk and said, squinting to read the goblin’s nametag, “Why, I am offended, Bonehead!” he said grandly. “You don’t remember me, Ernie MacMillan?”
Granger shot him a half-amused, half-exasperated look.
The goblin stared him down icily. “My name is Pomehand.”
Potter was caught off his guard for a minute but quickly recovered. “Oh, yes, Pomehand! I remember now!” he chuckled heartily. “Well, anyway, this here is my dear friend Hermione Granger.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “She’s looking for a job in…in…”
“Curse-breaking,” Granger quickly supplied.
“Ah, that’s right. Curse-breaking! A very exciting branch if I do say so myself,” Potter said. “Well I promised Hermione here I’d get her an interview, and-”
BOOM.
There was a huge crash. Potter and Granger immediately whirled around. Seven or eight masked men were standing in the doorway of Gringotts, their wands out.
Death Eaters.
Potter whipped his glasses out of his pocket. This was no time to be near-sighted. He grabbed his wand and bellowed, “STUPEFY!”
The Death Eaters parted and Potter’s spell hit the wall, smashing it to pieces. “Nice going,” muttered Pomehand. Potter ignored him.
“REDUCTO!” shouted one of the Death Eaters, pointing his wand at a magnificent, cobwebbed chandelier. Several women screamed and everybody backed towards the walls as the chandelier crashed to the ground. Glass shattered and shards flew everywhere.
Granger shrieked and covered her face with her hands to protect herself from flying glass. Potter turned to the Death Eaters and took another shot at it. “Stupefy!” he yelled, and this time his spell made contact. One of the Death Eaters sank to the floor. Another fell as Granger fired off her own shot.
But it wasn’t enough. One of the Death Eaters instantly revived them with “Ennervate,” and they were back on their feet. By now most of the people had fled in fear. Only those trapped by rubble and debris remained, huddling out of sight as well as they could.
Then one of the Death Eaters stepped forward. “It’s Potter!” he yelled.
“That’s right,” Potter said bravely.
The Death Eater’s attention shifted to Granger. “And who’s this, Potter?”
“Nobody,” Potter said quickly. “I’ve never seen her in my life.”
“I doubt that,” the Death Eater growled. Potter groaned inwardly.
Then out of the blue somebody yelled, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” and the Death Eater fell to the ground.
Potter looked around in amazement. One of the other Death Eaters was standing with his wand pointed directly ahead. He ripped off his mask, revealing a scarred face. Potter didn’t recognize him, and had no idea what was going on.
The Death Eater raced over to Potter and Granger, seized their forearms, and Apparated away, taking them with him.