Boarding School Blues

Boarding School Blues

Chapter 3: Drawing a Bad Post

Harry was in a terribly good mood. He smiled at the slightest provocation, throwing that disarming lopsided grin about like chump change. He'd even had a bounce to his step as he'd made his way down to the common room to meet his friends that morning. It worried Hermione. Harry could be happy and chipper most days, sure. But the vast amounts of cheer that oozed from every expression, every gesture was disturbing. Especially after last night's whole episode. It just wasn't natural. What had caused the change, she could not be sure, but Hermione was determined to find out. She stuck by Ron's side, watching Harry with concerned fascination as he piled toast onto his plate.

Harry himself remained completely unaware of being the subject of such intense scrutiny. He couldn't seem to remain aware of much of anything around him as a matter of fact. He hadn't slept well the previous night. Dreams had kept his rest fitful. Nothing unusual there. What was different though, was the content of those dreams. He couldn't quite remember what he had dreamed; it was all a jumbled mess of images here and there that he couldn't piece together with any semblance of logic.

But what he could remember, and quite clearly, was the noted absence of Dark Lords, cemeteries, and green lights of any kind. It was a first in a long time. All it had been was soft silvery gold shadows and warmth, happy feelings and pretty words that he couldn't recollect anymore.

He had woken in the mood of his dream, and it still hadn't left him. And that mood only intensified when an owl flew in through the window and dropped a note on his bed, telling him to meet his godfather in the evening. That was something to look forward to.

And as if he couldn't be any happier, as he settled down for breakfast, he spotted Draco Malfoy sitting comfortably and in one piece with the Slytherins. Never before had the sight of his nemesis caused him so much relief, but the blonde's presence there meant that Harry's conscience could breathe easy. Now everything seemed right in the world and he could enjoy his morning meal in peace. Today was a good day.

Hermione broke her gaze and looked at her watch. "Oh, I need to go. I'll see you guys in a bit."

Ron failed to answer, asleep as he was facedown in his plate, and Harry was much too occupied with the business of buttering his toast to notice Hermione's declaration. She sighed and rose from her seat at the Gryffindor table and left the hall following a few prefects from the other houses out the door.

Returning fifteen minutes later with her hands full of papers, she got down to work. She proceeded to pass out the schedules to all the years starting with the first years, all the while giving them tips on navigating the halls and making good first impressions, though they seemed more interested in their breakfast. Frankly everyone seemed more interested in their breakfasts. She sighed to herself. It was the first day back, they could at least show a small amount of excitement. Hermione herself was ecstatic. Another year of learning new skills and mastering her art.

Finally she got back to the seventh years and reclaimed her seat with only three schedules left. Poking Ron awake she handed one to him and another to Harry before settling down to her own breakfast.

"You know Ron, you really should have gone to bed earlier. You'd really no need to stay up half the night chatting about Quidditch of all things," she said as she poured herself some juice. "It's our first day back and you're already off to a bad start. It's really a matter of getting your priorities straight."

"I'm off to a bad start?" he started with a tremendous yawn as he picked crumbs out of his hair. "It's only our first day back and you're already being a pain in the arse. Now there's a bad start. As for priorities, what could be more important in life than Quidditch?"

"I am not a pain in the arse! I only want what's best for you, and you don't take responsibility for your well being, so someone's got to right? What will that silly sport ever get you? It's all a waste of time."

Ron gasped and looked as if he were about to slip into cardiac arrest. Hermione couldn't help but notice Seamus grinning widely at her from across the table. "Oh now you've done it Hermione. Smart girl like you should know better by now. You'll burn for that one for sure," he chuckled earning a stern look from the vexed girl.

"A waste of time?! How dare you!" screeched Ron rather more forcefully than necessary.

"Stop being overly dramatic. It's not as if it's some kind of sacred institution," she said rolling her eyes to emphasis exactly how silly she thought Ron was being. "Harry will you listen to this. Tell him he's overreacting."

"Harry tell her to shut up about things she doesn't know anything about. It's ridiculous, she doesn't even play Quidditch!"

"Neither do you," said Hermione, causing Ron to burn at the cheeks as he scowled at her.

Harry looked up from his fifth slice of bread and sighed. "That was low Hermione. But Ron you aren't helping either. Now, you know what I think is ridiculous? It's only the first day back and you two have already managed to get into a pointless argument. You know what real magic is? Making something out of nothing and you two are the best magicians I know."

"That's the way to tell 'em Harry!" said Seamus before letting out a squeak and sinking down in his seat at the death glare Hermione leveled at him.

Ron pouted at his plate of scrambled eggs. "I am not making something of nothing. She said Quidditch was silly and a waste of time. You can't possibly expect me to just sit here and let her say things like that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can say whatever I want! And I meant every word!"

"You take that back!"

"No!"

"Please, Ron, Hermione, we aren't first years anymore. Can we please let this go? It's too early," Harry said, sounding very much like a tired parent.

"NO!" they replied, glaring at each other.

"Really why don't you two get it over with and shag already. We'd all appreciate it if you'd spare us this interminable courtship."

Both looked shocked for a moment and then blushed bright crimson turning their glares from each other to Seamus. "Well it's true isn't it?" he said with a shrug of his shoulders, ignoring the warning nudge from Dean, who had been watching the spectacle from his spot next to the sandy haired imp of a boy. Ron and Hermione turned back to their food still blushing but remained quiet.

"Well that shut them up, eh Harry?" said Seamus cheerfully.

"Huh?"

"I said that shut them-well nevermind. What are you doing?"

Harry had long stopped paying attention to the antics of his friends to look over the paper before him.

"Just looking at the schedule. It's odd, there's a few blank spots. And then this weird thing."

"What are you taking about?" asked Hermione forgetting that she was supposed to be sulking.

"They're talking about this, what's this?" said Ron pointing to his own schedule.

"What's what?" Hermione leaned over to see where his finger rested.

"This. ATAA. It only meets once a week. There, you have it too Hermione."

"Well I certainly hope so," she chuckled. "That's Advanced Transfiguration and Animagi."

Ron snorted. "An advanced class? I'm in an advanced class? How did that happen?"

"Animagi? We get to learn Animagi?" Harry's eyes lit up with excitement. He hadn't thought the day could get any better, but this...

"Yeah, we went over it this morning at the prefect's meeting with the teachers," said Dean, smiling at Harry.

Hermione took over the explanation easily as she cut her toast into pieces, "Everyone who passed Transfiguration with an average score gets to go to the first class and take the test. If you get in the top five percent you get to stay on. And yes, to learn the Animagus transformation."

"Well this is brilliant." Ron scratched his head and snorted derisively. "I have to get top grades just to stay in a class I didn't even sign up for!"

Harry paid no attention to the unenthusiastic red head. He couldn't help but grin excessively as he turned to Hermione. "Animagus...we'll get to be animagi! Like Snuffles! Like my dad!"

Hermione watched him warily as he nearly bounced out of his seat in excitement. She hadn't seen Harry this excited since, since...well she couldn't remember. He had never been one to be so giddy. But then she supposed this would mean a great deal to him. She smiled warmly at him. "Well you have to pass the test first Harry. Lucky for you and Ron, the first class doesn't begin for a week so you'll have time to study and practice."

Ron snorted for the third time. "Oh and I suppose you've already passed the test without even taking it then?"

Hermione gave him a self-satisfied smirk, which was sure to infuriate him properly. "I had 102.4% in Transfiguration last year Ron. I think that I am fairly well prepared. Not to say that I won't study some."

"Of course not," he mumbled. "Geez Hermione you're so-"

"Potter!"

Whatever argument had been on the verge of breaking out between Ron and Hermione was quickly quelled in favour of the more imminent Slytherin threat that had just appeared at their table.

"Malfoy," squeaked Harry startled for no apparent reason, much to his embarrassment.

"That's right. But then I suppose you weren't expecting to see me here. Thought you had got rid of me last night did you? Not so innocent as we like to pretend are we Potter," he sneered.

"I...it wasn't my fault. You didn't wake up," explained Harry trying not to sound as guilty as he felt. He could see that the Slytherin wasn't putting weight on his left leg. A twinge of left over regret from last night annoyingly prodded at his conscience. He tried to ignore it.

"So you decided to leave me there even though I was injured. Well wasn't that just so considerate. So Gryffindor of you," Draco scowled angrily at the bunch, his gaze focused mainly on Harry. "Nothing but a bunch of self righteous hypocrites, you lot are. You're all about as fake as Gilderoy Lockhart's reputation. But don't worry Potter. You'll get your reward when I tell my father how well you've treated me."

The mention of Lucius Malfoy piqued Harry. Lucius Malfoy the Death Eater. Something about that pissed him off royally. It set him on the defensive. Sure he felt bad, he might even have been about to apologize, but if the ungrateful arrogant bastard was just going to threaten him, well he didn't have to be nice no matter how bad he felt about it. Traitorous conscience or no. He glared at the Slytherin. "How did I know that was coming. I didn't break any rules Malfoy. So telling your father won't do anything. He's not bloody god you know, no matter how much you kiss his feet and worship him."

Draco scowled feeling more than sufficiently insulted. Draco Malfoy did not kiss anyone's feet. Draco Malfoy worshipped no god but himself! He growled dangerously in his throat. "Oh my father can do plenty. He may not be god, but he has very good connections. You'd do best to watch your step Potter." He smiled maliciously. "You know it's going to be a pleasure to watch you fall. When you least expect it Potter," he leaned in close, "it's going to be fun to watch you die," he hissed in Harry's ear as the raven haired boy's eyes widened. Draco straightened and took a step back leveling his glare at the rest of the table, letting his voice take its normal languid cadence. "No one's going to bail you out when the time comes. And you'd better believe it's coming Potter. Your 'rules' and titles and bravado...and friends aren't going to be worth jack shit when the new power rises."

"You keep saying that Malfoy. Know all about it do you?" accused Seamus glaring.

"If I did, why on earth would I tell you?"

"Well I wouldn't be surprised if you did, considering that oversized gob of yours," suggested Seamus.

"Shut up you," replied Draco in the manner of an irritated housewife, giving little credence to any words than came out of the boy's mouth. "You had best watch what you say. Considering your...background."

"And what background would that be Malfoy?" challenged Hermione rising from the table, her wand gripped tightly in her hand.

Draco smirked at her and crossed his arms lazily over his chest. "Put your wand away Granger, you know you can't hex me in front of all these teachers. I was speaking of his particular parentage, and yours too of course. Perhaps with your...disadvantaged position...I was just saying you should watch whom you choose to insult. They may be the ones who rule over you one day."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop being so vague. Why don't you just come out and say exactly what you mean Malfoy. Unless you're too scared that one of the teachers will overhear you and recognize you for what you truly are," she hissed.

"What I truly am?" he laughed shortly. "Really Granger you make it sound as if I were a werewolf or something. I'd have thought you'd have more maturity Granger. I'd never pegged you for the melodramatic type. But then you are a Gryffindor aren't you."

Hermione glared at him but took her seat again as she opened her mouth to tell him off. He didn't give her the chance however, as he continued his spiel, ignoring the building tension as the Gryffindors' faces twisted in contempt. "And I have no fears of speaking my views Granger. I was merely attempting to be polite. I should have realized my efforts would be a complete waste on you people. And if you don't understand what I was saying, then you Gryffindors are thicker than I'd ever thought possible."

"Shut up Malfoy! We understood perfectly fine!" barked Ron gripping the edge of the table in an attempt to keep himself from leaping up and pummeling the smug git of a Slytherin. Hermione's hand on his arm served to remind him that getting into fights in the presence of so many teachers was not a particularly good idea.

Draco smiled politely at Ron, bringing a look of confusion to his rival's face. "Good. That's all I wanted to know. Sometimes potions can be difficult and I just thought I'd offer my help, but since you understand it already I'll just be going. Have a pleasant day. Good afternoon Professor."

"Good afternoon Mr. Malfoy."

The Gryffindors turned to find Professor McGonagall standing at the end of the table watching them as Draco quickly strode away.

"Is everything all right here?"

"Yes, fine," said Harry.

"Good." She gave them a stern look for good measure and walked away.

As soon as McGonagall had left, Ron turned to his housemates with fists clenched. "That slimy bastard. Did you see what he just did? He wanted to make it look like he was offering us potions help instead of threatening us!"

"Yes, I'm aware of what he was doing Ron," sighed Hermione in exasperation. "But that's not what we need to worry about right now. Those were some serious threats. He knows something, and whatever it is, it's nothing good. What did he say to you Harry?"

"Umm...nothing," said Harry nervously.

"Well he must have said something. Was it that bad?" Hermione's face twisted in concern.

Harry thought for a minute. Well it wasn't really so bad he supposed. But it was just the way he said it. It sent shivers down Harry's spine. He knew that Draco hated him, but that he wanted to watch him die? That was just kind of twisted and freaky. "Er...no it wasn't that bad. He just said that...that Slytherin was going to beat us at Quidditch this Saturday and I'd better watch out?" he tried with uncertainty.

Hermione eyed him skeptically.

Harry shrugged. "I think he was just mouthing off anyway. If he knew something, why would he want to give us an announcement? Unless he was a complete idiot he wouldn't practically warn us that something big was coming. And Malfoy's plenty of things, but stupid is generally not one of them."

Ron snorted as Hermione frowned.

"I don't know Harry. That crack about his mouth wasn't just to tick him off. He really does have loose tongue. I wouldn't be surprised if he came to us tomorrow and gave us a time and place of You-Know-Who's next attack just because he can't help but open that big mouth of his," Dean spoke up looking thoughtful.

"I have to agree with Dean Harry. Malfoy is not dumb, but he's not always careful either. We all want to put this off for another year...forever if possible, but that's not going to happen. You heard Dumbledore. The war is coming Harry. You can't debate this away," said Hermione.

Harry frowned. "I know that. I know that better than anyone! You don't have to tell me Hermione, and I'm not trying to debate it away. I just don't think we should jump to conclusions that's all."

Hermione shook her head. She understood that Harry knew. But she also knew that Harry was deliberately avoiding the subject. But what could she expect. She couldn't even blame him. He'd had this hanging over his head his entire life and it was probably easier, essential to his sanity even to just pretend it wasn't there. She just prayed he'd be able to handle it when he did decide to face it. It scared her to think about it. And now with this whole Malfoy deal...

"Well whether what Malfoy says is true or not I don't see why we need to sit around and argue about it. Let the Professors take care of it. They'd tell us if there was something we should know about. I say we forget this whole thing and go outside for a bit. We still have half an hour. The weather's nice and we can fly around a bit...warm up for the practice. We do have one today you know Harry." Seamus winked at him and got up from the table.

"Yes Seamus, I know," sighed Harry as he too rose from his seat followed by Ron and Dean. Suddenly flying around on brooms after little golden balls didn't sound so urgent. But maybe it would get his mind off things. The boys said goodbye to Hermione and made their way to the main doors of the Great Hall.

"Chin up Harry. We got a smashing team this year. It'll hardly be any work at all to win the cup. And we got new brooms. Those Slytherins will be no trouble," said Ron walking ahead of him next to Seamus.

Harry nodded looking back over his shoulder. Draco had left the hall and was nowhere to be seen. He sighed. "No trouble at all."

***

The day had gone by quickly and without incident much to the relief of the students. There was little talk about Voldemort or Dumbledore's speech and even Malfoy's threats had been put to the back of everyone's mind as they settled into their lives of trying to survive the teachers and the homework and the tedium.

Harry however was feeling lousy. His whole day had already been completely shot at breakfast with Malfoy's little visit and things didn't look to be getting any better. He couldn't seem to keep the pale haired Slytherin out of his mind. That thing he had whispered in his ear. It wasn't quite that Harry was afraid. It took more than a pompous git like Malfoy to scare him, but he was worried.

It seemed a constant emotion these days, worry. Worry about his friends, worry about his school, worry about Sirius, worry about Malfoy...he paused in his thoughts. Why was he worried about Malfoy? Why should he care? He hadn't cared last year, at least he couldn't remember caring at any point. But something was making him nervous. And it had to do with Malfoy.

He had had dreams over the summer. Not often but, they were enough. He knew he shared a link with the Dark Lord, but Voldemort was far away and the connection was weak. He couldn't hear what was happening in his dreams, only saw brief visions of locations, blurry visions of people. A dark alley here, a forest there. But once he had heard something, in a language he couldn't understand. Maybe Bulgarian? That's where the papers claimed Voldemort was.

At any rate, it was beyond him to understand. But amongst all the indecipherable gibberish, he had known one word...Draco. It could have been anything really. Draco was Latin for dragon, Draco was a constellation in the night sky. Malfoy didn't need to have anything to do with it. But it was something Harry really couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried.

How the incident had translated to worry for the boy, Harry couldn't quite understand. He'd written Hermione a couple of times about the Slytherin, just to see if maybe he was worrying her as well. Of course he didn't mention his dream. He had to figure that one out first.

She had replied that she wasn't too worried at all. Everyone knew Malfoy was going to be a Death Eater and that was all there was to it. There was no point wasting time ruminating on him while they were still in school.

Harry was inclined to agree with Hermione, but his conscience persisted in punishing him for no apparent reason, insisting that if anything happened to Draco Malfoy it would be the end of the world and surely he and his friends would be next. If someone they had gone to school with, someone who was just a boy like him could be a Death Eater...well the implications of such a thing were too great for Harry to ignore.

It was weird to think of Malfoy as a Death Eater. He'd gone to school with the Slytherin for six years and had played numerous games of Quidditch, had tons of classes with him. Shared plenty of detentions. They were just kids. He had grown up with Malfoy just as much as he's grown up with Ron and Hermione. It was difficult to think of Malfoy as a murdering, evil, bloodthirsty slave to the Dark Lord. Smarmy, arrogant, smug, highly annoying and downright devious? Yes. But a Death Eater?

Harry had met the Dark Lord and he had seen Lucius Malfoy bow down and kiss his robes. He really couldn't imagine Draco doing that. From a purely dispassionate standpoint it didn't seem likely. Draco Malfoy just wasn't Death Eater material. For one thing, he thought way too much of himself. But then who knew...everyone said the boy was just like his father. But Harry had to wonder if Malfoy knew what he was getting himself into.

If he thought about it long enough Harry could actually tell himself that they were two sides of the same coin really. Malfoy was soon to be irrevocably tied to Voldemort much like he himself already and bitterly was. He didn't really know what to think of that. Even his best friends could never understand what that felt like. To think that Draco of all people soon would understand...and do it willingly at that, he shivered. He really didn't want to think about it.

"Heads up Harry!"

Harry swerved quickly, narrowly avoiding the Bludger that had been making a beeline for his head. He looped around and glared at Dean who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Quidditch practice had been in session for the past fifteen minutes, at least fourteen of which Harry had spent hovering stationary in the air, sorting through his thoughts.

"Come on Harry, you should have been able to dodge that by a mile!" cried Seamus from below him, as he drifted slowly with the Quaffle in his hand. "Dean didn't even hit it that hard."

"Sorry," Harry muttered as he continued to look for the Snitch. Five minutes later the thing still hadn't shown itself and he was getting impatient. He flew down to where the Chasers were scrimmaging and pulled up next to Seamus who raised an inquiring eyebrow at him.

"Problem Harry?"

"I'm really not into this right now Seamus. I'm just going to bug off for a bit, okay?"

"But Harry...the match against Slytherin is in a week!"

"What happened to we'll win no problem?"

"Nothing. We'll win no problem if we work hard and improve our game considerably by Saturday."

"Come on Seamus. It'll just break my focus if you force me to practice halfheartedly," Harry pouted.

"Oh no, not the puppy-dog eyes!" Seamus sighed, "Okay Harry. I know you're already the perfect Seeker but...just don't do it again. Ron will kill me if he finds out that I let you off practice."

"Since when is Ron the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"Since I let him organize and strategize the last meeting. I think it's gone to his head. It's not a bad thing though. Less work for me. Who am I to complain?"

"Right. See you then."

Harry landed and quickly put away his broom. He walked into the castle heading for the dorms. He was quite ready for a nap. Anything where he wouldn't have to think for a while. He didn't get far however before he spotted Malfoy sauntering his way. He groaned internally. Just what he needed. He put on a look of impassivity as the blond approached and lifted his eyes to face him.

"Malfoy."

"Potter," said Draco stopping in front of the Gryffindor.

"What do you want?"

"Just because we're in some proximity to each other doesn't mean I want anything from you Potter. Last I checked this hall was open for use by all students. I was just taking a walk before you talked to me first. Not that it's any of your business. Say aren't you supposed to be outside with your little Gryffindor groupies?"

Harry smirked. "Heh. Gryffindor groupies. Nice alliteration. Have you ever considered hanging up your Death Eater cloak and becoming a poet?"

"Harry Potter, what a rotter. Take it from Malfoy, he's much smarter. I am a bit of prodigy aren't I?" he said sardonically.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Was that sarcasm at your own expense Malfoy? You surprise me every day."

"Not at my expense Potter. Just...I'd make a terrible poet. I make a much better Death Eater."

Harry's eyes went wide. "So-so you are one. I knew it!" He tried rather ineffectively to hide his surprise with a sneer. He really hadn't thought it would happen so soon. At least Malfoy would have waited until after graduation. But then that dream...maybe he should have expected it.

Draco smirked. "I didn't say I was. But then I didn't say I wasn't. I guess you'll just have to keep guessing."

Harry didn't know whether to sigh in relief or feel more nervous. He opted for casual indifference instead. "I think it's a sure bet if you aren't one now you'll be one at some point."

"I guess you fancy yourself quite the expert gambler then, eh Potter? Don't you know sure things don't exist in real life? Maybe in Perfect Potter World, but you haven't conquered the globe yet have you," he drawled lazily, sweeping back a stray strand of blond from in front of his face.

"Nor do I want to. That would be more your inclination wouldn't it?"

"Well I am a Slytherin aren't I? There's no shame in wanting to excel in your field."

"Serving the Dark Lord is not a field! Don't you get it? God I don't understand you at all Malfoy. You're being confusing." Harry swept a hand through his messy hair looking fairly flustered.

Draco smirked. "Who said I was trying to be otherwise? You are daft aren't you. I'm not responsible for your assumptions. That's all I'm going to say. Anyhow you didn't answer my question. Why aren't you out side? It's a beautiful day. And you're ghastly pale," he said in a mockingly considerate tone.

Harry smirked once again. "You're one to talk Malfoy. Have you taken a look in the mirror lately?"

"Just this morning. And I have to say I was looking as devilishly handsome as always."

"I believe the devil part," Harry muttered darkly. He looked up at the blond and affected a sickly sweet smile. "So. It's been nice chatting with you and all Malfoy, but I do have better things to do."

Harry brushed past the Slytherin and continued a little ways down the hall before he paused as Draco's drawl reached his ears once again.

"You don't believe me, do you Potter?"

He turned and looked squarely at the Slytherin, narrowing his eyes briefly. "I don't know. I don't want to believe you at any rate. Frankly I'd rather not think about it."

Draco made his way over to Harry, taking a moment to look the boy over. "That's awfully candid of you, exposing your fears like that. It's quite brave. Stupid, but brave. Typical Gryffindor behavior."

"I'm not in the mood for this." Harry scowled at Draco. He was getting a bit annoyed. Scratch that, he had been annoyed since breakfast. Now he was just really really put out.

"For what? The truth, Potter? You know what's coming is not going to wait for you to be in the proper mood," drawled Draco, giving Harry a handsome smirk.

Harry's hands clenched into fists at his sides. His face twisted into something of a look of disgust as he clenched his teeth. "I know that. Goddamnit, I'm sick of people telling me what to expect. I already know. I've fucking lived it my entire goddamned life! I'll fucking ignore it if I fucking want to!" he paused, taking a deep breath to let himself calm down. He didn't want to lose his composure now, on the first day back. How would he survive the rest of the school year if he couldn't even handle the first day?

"Christ Potter, language..." Draco looked on the verge of bursting into chuckles at Harry's outburst.

Harry glared at him and taking another deep breath, continued softly, "Fuck...first Hermione and now you too...it's really starting to piss me off. Why are you of all people lecturing me about this anyway? You should be happy if I'm not prepared."

Draco nodded. "And indeed I am. It's just depressing to see someone feeling so sorry for themselves. I have an idea for you. Why not kill yourself and then you won't have to deal with anything anymore. And it would make me very happy."

Harry snorted. "That's enough reason not to Malfoy. Anything that makes you happy must be evil."

"Evil...you throw that word around as if it were some definite term. There is no good and evil Potter, only-"

"Power, yes yes. I've heard this before. They have really got you brainwashed haven't they. You just repeat the same sad phrases they tell you and end up fooling yourself into believing they actually mean something."

Draco frowned. "Nothing different from the propaganda your precious Dumbledore feeds you. Talk about blind faith. I bet you don't even know what your side stands for. Besides fighting against our side that is."

"That's a good enough cause I think. And you think you are some kind of ideological genius? Wishing death upon muggle-borns and half-bloods isn't a cause Malfoy. It's a bloody witch-hunt! Or as good as one anyway, considering who we're talking about."

"You really don't get it do you."

"I get it enough to know that what you think is wrong and we have to fight those kinds of ideas and the people who support them."

Draco face twisted into a scowl. "Truly what are you fighting for Potter? Revenge? You want to get Voldemort for what he did to you? You want to get me for what I've done to you over the years? Is that your cause? You don't fool me for a minute. You're just as self-serving as anyone. You're just as bad as the rest of us Potter."

"No," said Harry looking scandalized, "it's not about revenge. It's about what's right."

"And who decides what's right Harry? Dumbledore? You? Maybe you should transfer into Slytherin. Sounds to me like you want to rule the world after all."

Harry scowled at him. "You are full of it aren't you Malfoy."

Draco paused a moment before leaning in close to the boy. "Oh I mean every word I say Potter. Every word," he hissed into the boy's ear, causing Harry to shiver for the second time that day. Draco leaned back again and smiled menacingly before turning and striding away down the hall.

Harry felt a shudder run through his body. That was somewhat discomfiting. His mind was drawn back to what Draco had said during breakfast. "Every word huh Malfoy...we'll see."

The conversation had been the oddest one he'd had yet with the Slytherin. And now the questions were running rampant in his mind. Draco was presenting quite the challenge to his patience today, and he could tell that it was only going to get worse as the year went on. He really didn't need the constant reminder. Harry frowned to himself as he watched the Slytherin's retreating back.

Draco himself was feeling energized by the whole episode. He grinned to himself as he made his way to the dungeons. He could do it forever...sticking it to Harry Potter. He could see it in his eyes that the boy had been frightened. It was just the reaction he had wanted. Nothing brought him a bigger thrill really than watching those green eyes blaze with confusion and worry.

He had only picked up the gift of insidiousness recently. It was much more effective than just calling Harry names. And the Gryffindors were just dense enough to believe every word that came out of his mouth. Harry especially. He was just so trusting and innocent.

Tormenting Harry Potter was Draco's favorite pastime hobby. It had gotten so much easier this year as well, what with all the talk of Voldemort and such. Draco could see the nervous tension in the Gryffindor's brilliant eyes. He knew the war was coming just a well as Draco did. And Harry was scared. It brought a smile to Draco's face and warmed his cold Slytherin heart like nothing else could.

It was odd though, how the stakes had been upped. All this time Draco had been seeking Harry's expulsion, Harry's failure and humiliation, but now he was to sit back and watch the Dark Lord do his thing. He was actively seeking Harry's death.

He wanted it sure, but it was odd to think that soon Potter wouldn't be around anymore. Wouldn't be around to be his enemy. Who would he pick on? Who would he get in trouble? Who would he face off with as Seeker? But this was their last year of school and it wouldn't matter soon enough.

Still, it was a strange feeling. Would he actually miss the boy? No, he'd miss the challenge, not the boy. Or maybe... No, I'm just being nostalgic. He shook the thought from his head. He had a job to do afterall. The match against Gryffindor was coming up and he couldn't be distracted by something as inconsequential as his relationship with Harry Potter. He had to work out a strategy.

***

"See you later Harry," said Ron as he turned with the rest of the Gryffindor seventh years down the hall towards the tower.

Harry waved to his friends and walked in the opposite direction making his way through the castle and onto the grounds. Dinner was to begin soon and he was quite hungry after spending an hour and a half digging up Mandrakes in Herbology. But he needed to see Sirius first. The letter told him to meet his godfather in Hagrid's hut and that is where he found the large black canine as he opened the door of the cabin.

Sirius left the spot on the floor where he had been crouched and transformed upon seeing his godson.

"Hello Harry."

He walked to the doorway and pulled Harry into a warm embrace, directing him at the same time to one of the heavy wooden chairs at Hagrid's kitchen table. He pointed to a giant plate of cookies but Harry shook his head. Sirius shrugged and sat down in the chair across from him watching the boy keenly.

"So Harry, how's it going?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine I guess. Everything is going...fine."

"Oh. Good."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Harry observed the grain of the table and distractedly picked at the wax at the base of a melted candle. Sirius hesitated for a moment. He hadn't seen Harry in two years. Only in the middle of the boy's fifth year. He hadn't changed much.

Definitely taller, he noted, not as tall as James but almost as tall as me. He was still unbearably thin, the cloth of his robes hanging loosely off his shoulders. Sirius had the sudden urge to pummel those damned muggles that so undeservingly held the title of Harry's family.

But at least Harry seemed to have gained some steadiness, some build as a boy his age should. And his face didn't seem to feel the effects of his mistreatment. He looked so innocent and the word beautiful came to mind. His features were a tad softer than James' had been, but well-cut just the same. And so clear, no acne, he had Lily to thank for that. And of course his hair, the way it managed to always look windswept and framed his face, falling in his eyes...those eyes...Sirius swallowed the sob that built at the back of his throat.

James would have been so proud. He grinned internally, ah Lily, if you could only see how handsome your son has become.

"Um, Sirius?"

Sirius snapped his head up from his reverie. "Oh. Yeah...okay, well...umm...hmm..."

I need to be a parent, he reminded himself. So be one.

"How are your studies?" That sounded about right. "How are they treating you?" Yes, on a roll. This isn't so hard..."I hope you're eating and sleeping properly. You're scar hasn't been bothering you has it? How are your friends? Nobody's giving you trouble are they? Snape? Trelawney? Are you taking your vitamins? You really should bundle up more, Lily would kill me if she knew you were running around in just a t-shirt under your robes in nearly the dead of winter-"

"Whoa...slow down Sirius! I'm fine really. Everything is fine and I'm taking care of myself. Don't you think your going a little overboard with this guardianship thing? For godssake, I'm seventeen years old. And you forget who you're talking to. I took on Voldemort three times in the past seven years and you once too if you recall."

"Don't you take on airs with me young man. I was given a job and I take it seriously."

"Could you possibly take it any other fucking way?" said Harry rather rudely, growing tired of the conversation.

Sirius frowned. "Haha...very funny. If your mother could heard that mouth of yours-"

"My mother is dead."

A silence settled into the hut as Harry's harshly uttered words drifted between the two. A look of shocked sadness overtook Sirius's features as Harry sat scowling at him.

After a moment, the boy turned his gaze down to his hands in shame. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Sirius shook his head. "No...you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I just miss them so much. I just...everyday there's something to remind me. If it's not Ron getting letters from his mum or Malfoy insulting me, then it's my stupid scar. Why won't it stop hurting? Damnit why won't it stop!"

"Harry...Harry it's okay," soothed Sirius as he pulled him into another embrace, feeling the wetness against his shirt as Harry cried into his shoulder shuddering slightly with his soft sobs. "You're not alright Harry. What can I do?" He felt his own throat tighten. What was he supposed to do? He didn't know what to do. James, damn you what do I do? He held the boy for another few minutes before the sobs faded and Harry pulled back from him wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffling quietly.

He looked up at Sirius as gave him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

Sirius shook his head. "No don't be. Harry you're not fine. You have to tell me what I can do. You have to let me help you."

Harry nodded. "You do. You do just...just being here. It helps. Thanks."

Sirius nodded uncertainly.

"Really Sirius. Thank you. I'm sorry I snapped at you, it's been a long day. I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

Sirius chuckled. "I wouldn't expect any less from the son of James Potter." He sobered a moment, looking Harry in the eye. "But really, you aren't trouble." He looked downcast and turned away from the boy. "It's me. I'm sorry for being such a poor excuse for a guardian. I really don't have any idea what I'm doing you know."

"No! Don't ever say that Sirius. You're the only family I have. And you're better family than I could ever wish for."

"I guess we'll just have to stop apologizing to each other huh? It'll be okay Harry. I'll be here for you. Don't you leave me now," he said his voice wavering slightly.

"I'm not planning to. Nuh-uh. I'm not going to let you off that easy," he gave his godfather a mischievous grin.

Sirius laughed and settled back down in his chair, relieved to see Harry smiling again.

They talked for a bit longer about what Harry had been doing, how his summer had gone, and the other odd characters and adventures Sirius had encountered during his time on the run. The conversation soon turned to Dumbledore's speech.

Harry hesitated at first but was soon quite comfortable and interested as Sirius got into telling him just what he knew. Dumbledore had told Sirius about the Dark Lord just as he had told the student body that night at the Welcoming Feast. He'd added some other details as well and Harry was quite intrigued.

It was about time someone talked to him straight. Sirius didn't tell him things he already knew. Sirius didn't patronize him. It was refreshing after the day he had just had.

"We don't know exactly what they're up to, but it's something dangerous and something we might have difficulty stopping unless we can learn more about it. You might have noticed a few of the Slytherins missing. And a few people from the other houses as well. We are sure it has something to do with Voldemort. True, their parents excused them but I think it's odd that there should be so many family emergencies and aunts and grandparents dying at one time."

Harry nodded in agreement as Sirius continued.

"But you should have seen Snape at the last meeting. He's fuming. His whole Quidditch team has gone missing. The bastard was raving like some kind of rabid bat, demanding a reschedule of the match and accusing Dumbledore of having it against him, excusing all his students without consulting with him first. But I have to admit even he sounded a bit worried. It really is odd that Malfoy's son hasn't gone. I know Lucius Malfoy well enough to know that he would want his son to be a part of whatever plan Voldemort has hatched...it's somewhat confusing. But we'll know more if we can get a spy in there. Dumbledore has forbidden Snape to go back, as he got word that someone had ratted him out and after all the trouble we went through to get him back in four years ago. I think Dumbledore has some ideas but you just sit tight. We don't know what's going on but I'll keep you posted. I'm going to be staying here to help Dumbledore and the others come up with some ideas and the like so I'll be around."

Harry nodded again taking it all in. Sirius gave him a penetrating look.

"Now I don't want you to get yourself into needless trouble. That's why I'm telling you this...so you don't go sneaking about trying to find it out on your own and get yourself into trouble. I'm not telling you so you try to take things into your own hands and do something incredibly stupid. I may not have been around a great deal, but I know you Harry, and I know that your mind is gearing up for some great big adventure."

Harry pulled a 'who me?' face but Sirius was not to be fooled.

"I'm warning you Harry...if I find out you've been doing anything even slightly dangerous, I will personally lock you up in one of Snape's dungeons and keep watch over you every single moment of the day, giving you absolutely no privacy or freedom whatsoever until we get the whole Dark Lord situation cleared up. Do you understand?"

Harry raised one dark eyebrow. "The dungeon huh? Kinky..."

"Harry..."

Harry laughed at his godfather. "As you wish warden. I'll be a good boy."

Sirius shook his head mumbling something along the lines of 'damn cheeky kids' before smiling warmly at his godson and pulling him into another hug. A moment later with a final warning, he transformed and bounded out the door leaving Harry feeling much better than he had all day.

***

Hermione tried to focus on her parchment but it was no use. Her thoughts wandered the situation, from Dumbledore to Voldemort, ultimately settling on Harry. Harry and Draco Malfoy. It was really something when she couldn't focus on her studying. It took something significant to make Hermione ever lose her concentration. She was worried.

Hermione looked up from her work as Ron and the other boys came through the portrait hole.

"Ron? Can I ask you a question?" she called out to him.

Ron paused in the room as the rest of them disappeared up the stairs to get ready for dinner. "Yeah sure, what is it Hermione?"

She thought for a moment, the tip of her quill resting gently at her lips. "Did Harry write you over the summer?"

"Well yeah. He does every summer. You know that."

Hermione nodded. "What did he say?"

Ron walked over to her and perched himself on the armrest of the couch. "Oh you know, the usual things. How much he hates his relatives, how much he wished he could visit sooner, asking about Fred and George's shop, the new Quidditch trials, that sort of stuff. Why?"

"Did he ever talk about anyone? Like anyone from school?"

Ron shrugged. "Sure I guess. I don't really remember. What's this all about Hermione?"

"Did he ever mention Cho Chang, or Hannah Abbott or anyone like that?"

"Come on Hermione, you know how sensitive he is about that. He doesn't like to talk about it."

Hermione shook her head thoughtfully as Ron watched her perplexed. And then something seemed to click in his mind and his eyes went wide. "Wait a second. You...you don't like him do you?"

Hermione looked at him in something akin to horror. "No! No, I was just wondering."

Ron gave a sigh to which Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, causing the redhead to blush slightly.

She smiled slightly and took another moment to think. "How about Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Did he say anything about Malfoy?"

Ron's brow furrowed in confusion. "Actually, yeah he did mention Malfoy a few times."

"Really?" she said excitedly. "What did he say?"

"Oh, you know...how sexy Malfoy looks in his Quidditch robes, how much he wants him in bed, that sort of thing."

"What?!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding. Sheesh Hermione...he just said the usual thing. 'Malfoy's a git. We need to watch him. We'll kick his sorry arse at Quidditch.' What else would he say?"

Hermione ignored the question as she twirled a curl of auburn hair around her finger, mumbling to herself deep in thought.

"Hermione, why all the questions?"

She glanced at him and shrugged. "Don't you think it's odd that Harry's so focused on Malfoy all of a sudden?" she said more to herself than to the redhead standing perplexed before her.

"I think it's pretty normal. He has been a thorn in Harry's side for the past six years. And with Harry's scar hurting again, it's only natural to wonder about Malfoy. And all of the Slytherins for that matter."

Hermione stared at her parchment contemplating the situation. It was true Harry had a perfectly reasonable reason to be so interested in Malfoy. But it was odd how he'd changed since last year. Maybe Harry kept up that usual rapport with Ron, but he had sent her letters too. Lots of letters.

Harry had written her chronically over the break and it was always the same thing. 'How are you? I'm fine. Nice weather. I've another theory about Malfoy.' Malfoy this and Malfoy that. Not in a single one had he neglected to mention the Slytherin. It was nearly an obsession. Half the time he would bash the blond as a bigoted stuck up prick and others he seemed almost worried about him. It was odd really.

She had her theories but she couldn't be sure. It was so hard to tell with Harry. He didn't wear his feelings on his sleeve like Ron did. She had Ron figured out long ago, but Harry...she shook her head. And then there had been the incident on the Hogwarts express.

Harry had been thoroughly worried after that, a far cry from the kind of emotion he held for Malfoy at the end of fourth year when they'd left the boy cursed on the train floor. And then today, she had seen them in the hall together. Harry had just come in from practice-she could tell because he was still wearing his Quidditch gear-and he had been talking to Malfoy.

She hadn't interrupted but did stay hidden around the corner to watch and make sure nothing broke out. But there hadn't even been the sign of a fight. Just talking. Though she couldn't hear what they were saying from where she was, it didn't look like they were ready to hex each other to pieces or anything.

Malfoy had even leaned in and whispered something to Harry in a manner that-if it had been anyone else-could be described as intimate. And Harry hadn't reacted adversely at all, as far as Hermione could tell from her spot.

But then that didn't have to mean anything. Harry really hadn't been acting himself lately. Prone to mood swings (she'd noticed when she went to visit him for a week at the Weasleys' near the end of the holiday), he wasn't entirely himself. And he and Malfoy had never been ones to brawl anyhow. That was a job reserved for Ron.

Yet it was surprising that Harry hadn't just walked away...had actually seemed to be having a conversation of some sort with Malfoy. She shook her head. But then it could just be her imagination looking for something that wasn't there. There was nothing wrong with Harry. And it had nothing to do with Draco Malfoy.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed.

Ron smirked. "Of course I'm right. Who did you think you were talking to Hermione?"

She chuckled at him and rose from the couch. "Right Ron. Dinner?"

He nodded. "I was just about to go. Harry said he'd be late. Snuffles."

Hermione nodded and followed him out of the portrait hole, the thoughts still swirling traitorously in her mind.

***

In a shroud of midnight, the creature crept forth onto the grounds and up the path to the great double doors. The shadows moved drawn to it, melding its form with the night, leaving it invisible and free to stalk as it pleased. It easily pried the doors apart. Like a pool of oil all slick and repugnant, it seeped through the crack. Into the entrance hall, it crept close to the ground, though it's figure still loomed tall and shapeless like some kind of ebony amoeba. It moved to the stairs, and spotted the business for the night.

The blond stood in front of a mirror adjusting his collar and straightening his hair. He couldn't seem to get one particular strand of the silvery silk from in front of his eyes. No matter how many times he blasted it with his wand, it remained stubbornly. So preoccupied, he didn't see something slinking up behind him. Cross eyed, looking petulantly at the naughty hairs, he failed to see the shrouded beast rise up to it's full height, growing like some gross vine poised to wrap itself around and strangle him.

He did however notice the blood red eyes that stared at him from the mirror, just over his shoulder, piercing into his own grey ones. He jumped dropping his wand and screamed, turning to face the owner of the horrible reflection. As the scream faded from his lungs, he drew in a sharp breath, clutching his hands at his sides and gulped.

"So nice to see you too Malfoy," hissed the creature glaring its impatience.

"M-master...I-I'm so sorry. You startled me. I thought you were someone else." He quickly bent to kiss the dark robes of the beast but was waved away in annoyance.

"I'm quite sure you did Malfoy. Get up, we will dispenssse of that formality this night. I haven't the time. And do not worry. I will overlook your conduct for now, though I do not appreciate my Death Eaters screaming like little girls every time they should happen to be startled."

"Of course Master. It won't happen again."

"Good. See that it doesn't. I wish to speak to you about our plans."

"Of course sir."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your bleeding ssstaff sssergeant!" hissed the Dark Lord with great irritation.

"Er, yes Master. I apologize."

"If I were you I would ssee to it that I need do a great deal lessss apologizing from now on Malfoy."

"Yes Master."

Lucius Malfoy shuffled nervously in his place before leading the Dark Lord to the sitting room and offering him some tea. He had been out practice dealing with this sort of thing. Using the word Master. The proper etiquette in such a situation. It had been nearly three years since he'd met Voldemort face to face, or even spoke to him. But it was all quickly coming back to him much to his relief.

He still couldn't help but find it all a bit creepy however. He hated that this less-than-human monstrosity could come and go in his house as it pleased. He had ceased thinking of Voldemort as a man. He was something greater than a man. But he was still damned ugly and more than a bit frightening.

It unnerved Lucius whenever his Master came a-calling. He'd gotten used to their regular correspondence (as Voldemort was out of the country) and he much preferred it to face-to-face meetings.

It had been a while since he'd seen the Dark Lord. Back in the day, during the first rising, Voldemort had looked the picture of perfect repulsion. Lucius didn't know how one could improve upon perfection, but somehow the Dark Lord had managed it. He was even more horrible looking now. But nobody ever said evil was pretty. Unless it's me of course. Lucius smiled to himself in satisfaction.

He offered Voldemort a seat in one of the luxurious velvet upholstered chairs in the room where he entertained most of his visitors. Lucius frowned as Voldemort regally took a seat in one of his favorite chairs. He'd have to order one of the house elves to burn the coverlets tomorrow.

He always felt everything needed to be sanitized after Lord Voldemort paid a visit. Something about a cursed soul occupying a desecrated body of bits and pieces of various people (not him, thank god!) made him never want to reuse the china ever again. But he'd put up with anything for a good cause.

"As you know Luciusss. We are in the processs of implementing an elaborate plan that will ensure my return is a complete successsss." Lucius nodded. "Do you know what the plan is?"

"Well, you asked us to collect our children and bleed them. I'd assumed it was some sort of blood spell."

"Yesss, a blood spell. Do you know what blood spells do Luciussss?"

Lucius resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes. Of course he knew what blood spells did. He hadn't graduated Hogwarts just for being a good lay. No matter what the rumors had said. And when you were a Death Eater it was all about the blood baby!

"They bond."

"That is correct. They bond. They bond physically. They bond mentally. They bond powersss. And they bond...livesssss."

Get to the point you bloody...this time Lucius did roll his eyes but stopped halfway, feigning something in his eye as Lord Voldemort threw him a sharp glance.

"We have nearly enough blood, though a few studentsss remain, namely your son."

"That's right."

"Your son is the youngest. His birthday is on the sssummer ssolstice. His blood will be the strongest. He will be my anchor. You have prepared the boy?"

"Yes, I've prepared him," lied Lucius.

"Good. I can feel it working already, though it is not to the degree I had expected. These children were somewhat of a disappointment. Their lack of magical talent is a disgraccce to Ssslytherin house."

Lucius frowned in disgust. Well what did he expect using the whole goddamn quarry that made up the Slytherin Quidditch team? Brainiacs? Nicholas Flamels? And what was he supposed to do about it?

Lucius knew it was a cue that he was supposed to magically fix the problem. Somehow it was his fault that Slytherin House had gone bad? That the kids were so dumb and that the fucking Sorting Hat had some kind of mental problems? Anyhow his son was a perfect little pureblood. He did his part.

"But no matter. They won't be around for much longer anyway."

Lucius shivered. He could be glad that the Dark Lord thought favourably of him and his family. Especially after two years of atonement for his previous sins, the Dark Lord felt Lucius was properly back under his thumb and had taken him as one of his more trusted followers.

And that whole diary episode had helped some, though it came with a bit of punishment as well, for that part where he had failed miserably. He was lucky that Voldemort had seen fit to give him points for effort. The money, power, and influence that Lucius had to his name didn't hurt either. Even the Dark Lord could appreciate the importance of a politician in the pocket and a galleon in the bank. Draco would fare much better in this deal than the other children.

"Luciusss, you will have your son begin his contribution to the plan. I will look forward to his initiation. I expect great thingss from him. If you have taught him properly I am sure I will not be disssappointed."

"Yes master, of course. Thank you."

The Dark Lord rose quickly and shooting Lucius a final look of irritated disgust, Apparated away without another word.

Lucius slumped in his chair and let out a sigh of relief as soon as he heard the pop. He sat there a moment with his eyes closed, running a sweaty palm through his hair, before getting up abruptly and striding quickly away to his study. He had a letter to write.