Veritas Vos Liberabit [Drarry Fanfiction]

The Price of Freedom

The room smelled like medicine and withered flowers, he looked around in a daze and saw Ron snorting softly on the uncomfortable visitor's armchair, a copy of Quibbler on his chest and a wand hanging loosely in his fingers. There were bandages over his right shoulder and his chest and his arm started to ache as soon as he tried moving it a little. Harry could not understand how much time had passed since whatever happened to him, but he felt like he slept for an eternity. The last thing that he remembered is that someone had saved his life, he didn't remember exactly what happened but there must have been some sort of fight.

"Ron?" he called faintly.

His friend was not moving, he continued sleeping like nothing happened.

"Ron! Wake up!" Harry shouted but nothing happened, the ginger did not even flinch.

Then he noticed that there was someone else in the room, standing at the window, their silhouette barely visible because of the light that was streaming from the outside.

"Who are you?! What do you want?" he demanded squinting at the figure.

The person stepped closer, long crimson robes rustled soundly, and there she was, as good as alive. Elise Baelish was looking at him curiously, her smart haircut impeccable and a long dark bruise on her neck.

"You... Aren't you dead?" Harry asked tentatively, "Am I dead? Again?"

She laughed and sat at the edge of his bed, her hand ruffling his hair playfully.

"I am quite dead, I must agree, Mister Potter, but you're not... At least not yet. You are in a comma and I am just but a figment of your imagination," she explained.

"In a coma? What happened?" Harry asked looking around.

"Somebody is trying to do my job here," Elise said, she rummaged through her pockets and pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and lit one with the tip of her wand. "Someone is looking for something in your mind... a bit messily. Oh my, I probably shouldn't smoke in the hospital, right?"

He was alert and tried to sit up but a hand with well-manicured dark-green nail polish stopped him, pressing on his chest painfully.

"Don't strain yourself, Mr. Potter!" Baelish warned. "There's not much you can do about this situation."

"Who's doing that? Who's looking into my mind?" Harry demanded.

"A person that wishes you harm, I'm afraid," Elise said simply, taking another drag.

"What do they want?!"

"They think you know something that you don't... that's too bad, really, I thought you were a smart cookie," she smiled.

"And what am I supposed to do?" he asked incredulously.

"At the moment? Nothing. They won't find anything useful... but then comes the unfortunate part," she looked at Ron who was slumped in the armchair. "They will try to kill you. For real this time."

"Kill?"

"I think so... maybe we will even have a matching bruise," Baelish laughed. "But that's not the worst now, is it? Dying?"

"I suppose not," Harry agreed.

"The worst is that a person that you need to help might die too," she looked at him seriously.

"Who will die?" he started to panic, his eyes darted at the slumbering form of his best friend.

"You know this person," Elise crawled on his bed and was straddling his hips inappropriately.