Shadows of Redemption

Chapter 22: A Dangerous Gamble

Harriet's POV

Draco's mother had barely left the room when I moved swiftly from under the bed, my heart pounding with urgency. I couldn't let him face Voldemort alone, not after what had just happened. The mere thought of Draco standing in front of that monster, vulnerable and unprotected, filled me with a dread that was almost suffocating.

I ran to him, pressing my small Kneazle body against his legs, and looked up at him, trying to convey my determination. His eyes widened in surprise, and he knelt down in front of me, his hands trembling as he rested them on either side of me.

"No," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "You can't come with me. It's too dangerous, Potter. If he finds out who you really are-"

I growled softly, shaking my head-or doing the best I could to make that motion clear in this form. I wasn't going to let him do this alone. We had already established that we were in this together, and I had no intention of abandoning him now, not when he needed me most.

Draco's eyes filled with anguish. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "You don't understand. If anything happens to you... If he even suspects..."

I jumped onto the bed, then back down, trying to get him to understand. My green eyes locked onto his, pleading with him. He had to take me with him. If something went wrong, I might be the only one who could help him, even in this limited form.

He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists as he struggled with the decision. "You're stubborn," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "You know that?"

I mewed in response, my eyes never leaving his. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he said, defeat and worry lacing his tone. "But you have to stay hidden. No matter what happens, stay out of sight. If he realizes you're more than just a Kneazle..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but I knew what he was thinking. The risk was enormous, but the alternative-letting him face Voldemort alone-was unthinkable. I jumped up and climbed into the bag he had prepared earlier, one that held our emergency supplies. I nestled down as comfortably as I could, peering out just enough to keep an eye on things.

Draco stood, adjusting the strap of the bag so it rested across his chest, and I felt the warmth of his hand as he patted the bag gently. "I hope I don't regret this," he whispered, his voice full of worry.

Draco's POV

Taking Harriet with me was a reckless decision, one I knew could cost us both everything. But the look in her eyes, the fierce determination that matched my own, had left me no choice. We were a team, and even in this small, vulnerable form, she wasn't going to let me face this alone.

I walked out of the room, the bag with Harriet nestled inside pressing warmly against my side. My steps were careful, deliberate, as I made my way down the long hallways of Malfoy Manor. Every shadow seemed to whisper of danger, every creak of the floorboards echoing in my mind.

When I reached the drawing room, the oppressive air hit me like a physical force. Voldemort stood at the center, his red eyes gleaming with a cold, merciless light. The Death Eaters flanked him, their faces masks of anticipation and fear. Bellatrix grinned wickedly as she spotted me, her eyes dancing with her usual unhinged glee.

"Draco," Voldemort said, his voice silky and dangerous. "Come forward."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and stepped into the circle. The bag pressed against my side, and I felt Harriet shift slightly, reminding me that she was there. It was a small comfort, but I clung to it.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he looked at me, and I had to force myself to meet his gaze. "I hope you have been preparing yourself for your responsibilities at Hogwarts," he said, his voice calm but laced with a threat. "You understand how important your role is, don't you?"

"Yes, my Lord," I replied, my voice steady despite the terror gripping me. "I understand."

He stepped closer, his gaze searching. "Good," he murmured. "Because failure is not an option."

The room felt like it was closing in on me, the pressure unbearable. But I kept my expression neutral, my breathing even. Harriet's presence in the bag was a reminder that I couldn't falter now. I had to keep up the act, for both our sakes.

Voldemort's eyes drifted to the bag at my side, and my heart stopped. His gaze lingered there for a moment, and I held my breath, praying he wouldn't ask. But he did.

"What are you carrying?" he asked, his voice mild but curious.

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I struggled to come up with an answer. "It's... my Kneazle, my Lord," I said, forcing the words out. "A gift from my mother. She thought it would bring me... comfort."

Voldemort's lips curled into a smile, and it was the kind of smile that made my skin crawl. "Comfort," he repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "How quaint."

He reached out, and I had to fight every instinct to recoil. His pale fingers brushed the top of the bag, and I could feel Harriet tense inside. I held my breath, waiting, terrified that he would sense something was wrong.

But then, he withdrew his hand, his smile widening. "Very well," he said. "Let us hope your little pet is not a distraction. You will need all your focus at Hogwarts, Draco. Do not disappoint me."

I bowed, my knees weak with relief. "I won't, my Lord," I whispered.

Voldemort turned away, his attention shifting to one of the other Death Eaters. I took that moment to exhale slowly, my body trembling with the aftermath of fear. Harriet stayed perfectly still, hidden and silent, and I thanked every star in the sky that she had remained undetected.

But the danger hadn't passed. We still had a long way to go, and I knew that the real battle was only just beginning.