(a Harry Potter fanfiction by Caitlyn)

The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

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Chapter 11: Speaker for the Dead

Chloe groggily opened her eyes and there was nothing but blackness in front of her.

An ice-cold draft was blowing across her face. A few tears leaked from her eyes as she imagined an enormous monster on the other side of the room breathing cold air on her and making the low whistling sound. She felt very frightened.

A thick cloth was stuffed into her mouth and tied around her head. Chloe tried to squirm but found that she couldn’t move anything except her head. She couldn’t even scream for help.

A vivid memory of the bad people who had run into Ms. Ginny’s classroom came hurtling back. More tears slid down Chloe’s cheeks when she remembered the last image of her teacher. The bad people had hit her.

Chloe sniffled loudly and tried to think of what her Daddy would do if he were tied up like her and very scared. He had been in trouble lots of times… and he had been brave. Chloe squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop crying. Her Daddy would want her to be brave too.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the low light of the room and she could now see a few things around her. There were big and ugly candleholders standing in all the corners. Chloe felt very frightened of them: they were very and had something twisted around and around them that looked sharp and scary. Ugly candle stubs on the top of each one were unlighted and the wax had dripped down all around the candleholders and dried into pools on the floor.

Next she saw where the draft was coming from: a lifeless fireplace. It had a grate in front of, made out of the same scary stuff as the candleholders. Chloe supposed the fireplace wouldn't look so awful if there was a warm fire in it. Chloe felt an ache in her chest for her living room. It always had a comfortable fireplace and a hearthrug for playing on, as well as a pretty Christmas tree. But, best of all her Daddy would be there too.

Be brave, Chloe thought to herself as she choked back tears and examined a bookstand to her right. Not surprisingly, it was just as ugly as everything else in the room and had monster-like clawed feet. She could barely see the book resting on it, and she had glimpses of yellowed pages being riffled up by the draft. Chloe didn’t know how someone could read the book, as it had deep red splotches all over the pages. She could now also see a varnished door with a long row of ugly locks.

She sniffled again and looked down at her clothes. There was a big gaping hole in her tights and her favorite blue robes were smudged and dirty with a huge rip along the bottom. Chloe could feel stray pieces of hair creeping down her forehead, since one of her braids was almost completely undone.

“Daddy,” Chloe whimpered softly as hot tears cascaded down her face. “I’m trying to be a Gryffindor.”

~*~

The glass front doors of the Daily Prophet shuddered as Harry burst through them.

Candi, the front receptionist, nearly put a spoonful of yogurt into her hair. "May I help you Mr. P—” She didn’t get to finish her salutation before Harry halted her.

“Yes. I need to buy the entire front page of the paper,” he said hurriedly gesturing for her to stand up. “Take me to your writers, photographers, or… for God’s sake, someone important!”

Candi replaced her spoon in her yogurt cup and stared at him. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked coolly, remembering protocol. Just who did he think he was? She was a bit surprised when The Boy Who Lived swore loudly and threw his hands up towards the ceiling.

“For what it counts,” he said gritting his teeth, “do you know who I am?”

Candi nodded. And Petey told her that her job was unimportant and uninteresting. Well, she would certainly be able to tell him a thing or two at dinner tonight. The Harry Potter had been pacing in front of her desk like an angry—

“What if I just go out into the street and do something idiotic,” Harry said angrily. “Will your photographers and bloody writers see me then?!”

Candi pursed her candy-apple colored lips. “No need to be rude, Mr. Potter. What business shall I tell them you have with them?”

The Harry Potter turned an unhealthy shade of red before growling at her. “You won’t tell them anything. Excuse me, I’m making an appointment.”

Candi squeaked when he strode past her desk and threw his arm out violently towards the second set of glass doors, which miraculously stayed intact after nearly shaking off their hinges. She scurried out from her desk, having to run very quickly in her high heels to catch up with him. She couldn’t miss this!

~*~

Harry glanced at the nameplates on each door as he breezed by it. Where was it? Where was HER office? The one time he wanted to be found….

Suddenly Harry halted in his tracks. Typewriters. Where was all that noise coming from? He reached for the handle and heard Candi’s clip-clopping speed up. “Wait, Mr. Potter!” she said, sounding quite out of breath.

This had to be it then. Harry shoved the door ajar and stepped in, sucking in his breath as he looked up straight into an entire room of journalists. Wonderful. He had only wanted a handful and had obviously hit the jackpot by at least forty-five….

The typewriter clacking came to a very gradual stop and was replaced by low murmurs and chairs creaking as they all faced him. One of them even went as far as to take his feet down off the top of his desk so he could turn his chair around.

“Mr. Potter would like you to write about him,” Candi announced stepping in front of him, smiling widely.

The murmuring stopped and the water cooler burbled. When the laughter started, Harry glared at them. “I don’t have time for this. I want the entire front page of the paper about my daughter. She’s been kidnapped. I have everything you need… information, pictures that can be developed out of my camera and money. I want this printed in tonight's paper. Yes or no."

“Let me handle this little proposition,” said one of the reporters, standing up. Harry nearly groaned. Rita gestured toward a cubicle, her claw-like fingernails gleamed turquoise from across the room. “Step into my office, Harry.”

When Harry sat down, all the reporters flocked around the cubicle all staring in. Harry had the distinct feeling of being trapped.

Rita unsnapped her alligator skin bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a long purple cigarette holder. “Cigarette?” she offered shaking the pack under his nose.

“I don’t smoke,” Harry replied tonelessly.

"Of course, you wouldn't would you?" Rita's comment evoked more laughter from the other journalists. She lit her cigarette and took a long drag, obviously relishing it. “That’s quite right.”

"Could we get on with this, please?" Harry snapped.

"Oh, yes, the missing little girl. You must be so concerned." Rita leaned back and exhaled a stream of smoke. It drifted towards the ceiling to join the haze already present from the past cigarettes.

"Even you couldn't think of a word to express my concern," Harry growled. This was ridiculous. He should have sent someone from work to do this…

"Let me get this straight, Harry, you want us to write something about you?"

Harry sighed. Had he not just said this? "I want you to write a few stories about my daughter’s disappearance if you mention me, it'll help—.” Harry stopped and tried to think of the appropriate words.

Rita blew a smoke ring and then grinned. "Draw attention. That’s what you mean. Fame is a fickle friend isn't it, Harry? Some days you'd give anything to be normal, but in this case your fame could save your daughter's life."

"Yes or no?" asked Harry, his eyes starting to water from the smoke.

Rita scribbled a long number on a sheet of paper and shoved it across the desk at Harry. "That's what the front page is going to cost you, taking in account the short notice." She smiled smugly at the other journalists.

Harry plucked the quill from her fingers, crossed out the figure and wrote another number below it. "I'll pay this if the story is decent."

Rita gave a small gasp, followed by several violent smoke-filled coughs which sent her purple lipstick-stained cigarette flying several feet. "Double the price?!?"

The other writers began to mutter excitedly to each other.

"Yes," said Harry drumming his fingers.

Rita mashed out her cigarette and pumped his hand up and down. "Pleasure doing business with you, Harry. Do drop by any time…"

Harry pulled his hand away, disgusted. “Here’s the information.” He dropped the packet of information on her desk and left..

~*~

It was nine o' clock. Harry had a splitting headache and felt nauseated with worry. He stood up and surveyed the chaos before him. Potter Hall had been temporarily set up as a sort of headquarters for the search for Chloe. Word had spread like wildfire and within the short time that had gone by, search parties had been organized, volunteers had hurried in to see if they could do anything, and the evening edition of the Daily Prophet that Harry had paid for was breaking sales records.

Announcements had been made on the WWN and Percy himself had made most of the announcements, explaining directly to the kidnappers that if anything were to happen to Chloe that the most serious of charges would not pardoned by the ministry.

Harry put his head in his hands and gave a great sigh. The knots in his stomach weren't going to go away. He now knew why parents used the phrase "worried sick" where their children were concerned.

It was killing him to sit down and relax for a few seconds, with the horrible realization that no new news was coming in.

"Eat this," said Sirius sitting down beside him. He set down a bowl of chicken noodle soup for Harry.

Harry held up his hand to reject the soup and didn’t bother to look up at Sirius. “No thanks."

"I didn't say, please. I said eat it." Sirius sounded slightly ticked.

"Really, no thanks.. I'm not feeling too well.”

Sirius was unabashed. "I'm going to pour it down your throat. Someone has to get through that thick skull of yours that you haven't eaten anything today. Now eat this before I get mad." Sirius forced a spoon in Harry’s hand.

Harry gave Sirius an indignant glare as he took a spoonful of soup and swallowed it. "Mmmm. Are you happy now?"

"No, I want you to eat all of it. This is for your own good, Harry James Potter," Sirius ordered.

"How old am I again?" asked Harry taking another spoonful. He had to admit it tasted pretty good and he was hungrier than he had originally thought.

"You're not as old as me, therefore I know better," said Sirius with finality.

Hermione came over clutching a stack of parchment and books. "Oh, thank goodness you got him to eat something! He was looking just horrible!" she said to Sirius.

"Well someone's got to force him to do things, it may as well be me," replied Sirius.

"I’m eating…I’m eating…” Harry said irritably, eating his soup.

"Well, we’re concerned," she said investigating the contents of the soup bowl.

"I'm not the one who needs worrying about," said Harry as the knots in his stomach contracted.

"We’ve almost exhausted these law books,” Hermione said quickly. “Can you think of any other place where we can find some?”

“Not if you’ve gotten all the ones out of my library and the Auror library.” Harry shook his head. “Did some of my Aurors take you through it?”

Hermione nodded. “But we’ll look again, Harry…” Hermione patted his back reassuringly before Apparating out of the room.

Ginny walked over carrying a huge map. She had adamantly refused healing charms, claiming her bruises gave her all the more reason to want to get the kidnappers. But Harry knew the injuries probably hurt more than she would admit: the dark purple bruise abover her left eyebrow looked horrendous, and she was wearing several small bandages on her face for the cuts. Harry thought her incredibly brave for standing up to fight the Death Eaters even when she knew she didn’t have much of a chance.

"Here are the latest areas searched.” She unfolded the map and made it hover in front of them. Ginny had also insisted upon taking charge of search party operations; Harry didn’t doubt there was a very sour Auror Lieutenant moping over a law book because Ginny took over his job. She drew a thin line with her wand on the map, "From here to here is where Hagrid's group has searched. Then from there downwards is the area where Ron's search group has been. Finally, right in that section over there is Remus and his search party."

Harry studied the map. "That's nearly three-quarters of the Forbidden Forest! It's pitch black outside, can they even see?"

Ginny nodded. “They've got lanterns.”

"They aren't going to find her," said Harry shaking his head.

"Don't say that!" Ginny’s eyes widened.

"They won't find her because they are searching the wrong place!" Harry exclaimed in frustration.

"Harry...." Sirius began.

"She's in Malfoy Manor! There isn't a doubt in my mind! If I don't go search that house now, he's going to kill her!" Harry almost upset his soup bowl.

"You don't know that, it could have been anyone, there were two people…” Sirius reminded.

“Come on, Sirius,” snapped Harry. “You know as bloody well as I do that she's in that manor! I've got every scrap of reason and the validity to do it legally but...."

"Yes, I do know. You cannot search the Malfoy manor until," Sirius trailed off leaving Harry to finish his sentence.

"A person must be missing for exactly twenty-four hours before any searches of private property may occur. We have no legal reason to search his property since he was just on trial… That was the excuse we had last time to bring him to court. The Malfoys look to be impeccably innocent…not even a damn tax evasion to place on their heads. And,” Harry looked at them with tired eyes, “by the way, that is the stupidest law to date.”

Fred held up one of the enormous law books he had been skimming through quite readily. "Actually, I've come across a few dumber ones."

"Along with the ones we happen to know off hand..." added George with a tiny grin.

"Would you two go back to looking for a loophole? You're not helping," said Percy, pushing his glasses up his nose and turning the page of his book.

Harry picked up a book from the unread stack and began to read along with them, looking for the slightest glimmer of hope that somehow they could get around the law and search the house sooner than they hoped. "We've got to keep looking, this is the only thing we can do right now…" said Harry, giving the book his undivided attention again.

~*~

Chloe heard the echoing clicks and sliding of locks. She quickly closed her eyes and tried her best to look convincingly asleep. The door creaked again and a soft thud told her that it had closed.

Her heart fluttered to her throat as she heard a pair of boots walking toward her. Fabric brushed across her face and then she felt a chilly hand against her cheek. Chloe almost opened her eyes in terror, but concentrated very hard on looking asleep. The icy hand rested on her face for a few seconds more and then it was gone.

Draco took his hand from her face. He looked down at her sleeping figure and almost felt a pang of guilt. Almost. It was nearly a shame he had to kill her. She would be a pretty little thing if she weren't a dirty Mudblood.

With that mulled over, he gently laid the palm of his hand on her cheek and smacked her sharply across the face.

Chloe's eyes flew open as she felt the horrible pain begin to throb on her face. In billowing black robes stood Draco Malfoy, sneering at her. His pale face in the low candlelight contrasted so sharply with his black robes that he looked like a ghost.

Chloe didn't know what to do. She wanted to cry…but she wouldn’t. Then she found that she could move again. She shakily got to her feet feeling like a foal just learning how to walk.

"I didn’t tell you to get up.” Draco knocked her against the wall and Chloe felt tears trickle down her cheeks.

"I want to go home now," she demanded with a sob.

"I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You’re never going to see your home again.”

"My Daddy is going to get you," Chloe said wiping her eyes.

"Oh my. What an intimidating thought. Harry Potter is after me, how frightening. For starters, let's clear this little misunderstanding: Harry Potter is not, nor will he ever be, your father," Draco said, casually turning the pages of the book.

“Is so!” Chloe retorted.

“No one wants you, that means you’re just an orphan,” said Draco arching his eyebrow. “You’re not his daughter.”

“Yes I am! " she shouted loudly, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Are you talking back to me?" Draco raised his hand threateningly.

Chloe bit her tongue and glared at him.

"Did you ever wonder why he adopted you?" asked Draco with an evil smile.

Chloe had never thought about that.

"He doesn't love you Chloe. He adopted you because it made him look good. Harry Potter Adopts Orphaned Brat from Cruel Muggle Relatives. Doesn't that make an enchanting head-line? He's going to pretend to do a search for you for a few days... then slowly, everyone is going to forget that you ever existed…” Draco grinned to himself. This was beginning to sound convincing even to him.

“No one really wants to have a little Mudblood. Your parents dropped you as soon as they figured out you were a witch, and Potter doesn't want you because you're a reminder of his life in the Muggle world," finished Draco. He shrugged and gave her a sigh as if to say it was a lost cause.

"You're lying!" shouted Chloe.

Draco laughed as he shook his head and looked at her with his fierce blue stare. "Lie? Mudblood, I am one of the few people in this world that can tell you the truth about this person you call your father."

"I don't believe you," she said turning her head away.

"Fine. I didn't say you had to listen."

"Because, you’re a liar,” Chloe said firmly.

"No, I have the good morals to tell you the truth. I think it's only fitting for you know why you are going to die. The truth is the reason I am going to kill you,” Draco said non-chalantly.

"My Daddy is going to come get me! You won't hurt me, he won't let you!" Chloe was now trembling with fear.

"Blissful ignorance. A childhood gift we all take for granted," contemplated Draco.

"The truth about Harry Potter is that he is nothing a coward. He barely escapes a weakened enemy a few times and is instantly proclaimed a hero. In reality, he's dishonored his family by using his name as a passport to get him anywhere in life. I almost don't blame him, who wouldn't want a free ride to wealth and popularity?”

Chloe stared at him, with huge eyes, very confused. Draco continued on grandly. "He's led the entire wizarding world into his little ruse and they think that he saved them all from the Dark Lord. So it's ‘All hail the great Harry Potter’. His life is a lie, Mudblood, he's a fake. He lives from news story to news story and, frankly, I plan to ruin it for him."

"No you won’t,” Chloe said stomping her foot. “I don’t like you!”

Draco towered over her and shoved her sharply to the ground.

Chloe felt more tears fall from her face. Everything hurt. She clenched her little fists and lifted her head. She would get up just to annoy him.

"Potter didn't kill Lord Voldemort. He cowered before him. He couldn't have even kill him if he wanted to. He was too busy begging for his life. When Dumbledore showed up to save his heroic hide, Voldemort led them both to believe that Dumbledore defeated him. Then Dumbledore decided to give Potter all the credit for the sake of putting some honor back into his name. Dumbledore didn't want Potter to be written in History books as the failure he really is.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Chloe said with a sniffle. “I want to go home.”

Draco didn’t hear her; he continued his speech, getting louder and louder with every word. “In reality, Lord Voldemort lives! The Dark Lord chose the most loyal of his servants to entrust with his life. He chose me, he called me his son! He took me as his own after Dumbledore killed my father. He confided his worldly knowledge to me, he told me all I needed to know to help him finish off the Mudbloods. But it was all done in secret.” Draco was no longer talking to a little girl; he was telling the story to himself.

Chloe wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and close her eyes. Why couldn’t he go away? She didn’t want to hear this.

"We watched together as things in the magical world calmed down, people became trusting again and felt they were safe. We watched as the faithful Death Eaters gave us honor as admitted their service to the great Dark Lord. We watched as the sniveling weaklings among us sobbed for mercy before the Ministry and claimed they never wanted anything to do with the Dark Lord. We watched as the faithful died honorable deaths- the Ministry showing them no compassion, just as they had accused our kind of never showing compassion. We watched the disloyal die, branded with the permanent mark of cowardice on their souls.” Draco was now gesturing wildly at her.

Chloe was very frightened now. She slowly backed into the corner, moving as far away from him as she possibly could.

"He told me he had powerful plans for me. He told me to claim innocence at my trial so that I could remain alive to serve him. Then as promised, I was given the greatest gift I could ever receive," he said with a low trembling voice.

"You see, Mudblood, I took the final step in loyalty. I sold my soul to my master, and he gave me everything. Everything I could ever want..."

Chloe shivered and hugged her arms to her chest.

"I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!" Draco bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls.

Chloe saw the maniacal gleam in his eyes and whimpered.

“I want to go home.”

~*~

Disclaimer: Chapter title belongs to Orson Scott Card, it’s the title of his sequel to Ender’s Game. Harry Potter Characters belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Special thanks to Jilly and Dr. C for betaing this for me! I really appreciate you guys!

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