Red Tide Rising

Draco was confused. He supposed it was to be expected, as there was no precedence for his situation, no manual he could use, no trodden path to be taken. The problem was how he was to navigate himself through the slippery path that he now must travel. His father, though flawed, had imparted some excellent advice, such as "Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst."

And Draco had to do just that. His earlier decision to reform himself had been repealed; he no longer had the luxury of considering himself first. It was a bit disappointing, as he'd been looking forward to acting for himself. However, things had changed. Actually, everything had changed.

This summer, when he had received the Mark, he had been acting rashly, and he regretted it now. It wasn't that he no longer agreed with the Dark Lord, but that the world had changed significantly just after he had been Marked. The escape from Azkaban of his father and other supporters, instead of instilling fear in the hearts of the community and flooding the Dark Lord with support, had effected major change in the Ministry. Dumbledore's influence had been obvious, but the changes had been swift and effective. No matter what his father's opinion of Arthur Weasley may be the man was a gifted politician who quickly gained the loyalty of everyone beneath him.

Beyond that, Sam becoming a Gryffindor instead of Slytherin had forced Draco to take a new, reactive tack in his movements. Without Lucius to keep them at bay, his family would be out in full force, sniffing around the Malfoy coffers like sharks smelling blood, and a Sorting into Gryffindor was as good as a hand-out. Worse than the idea of his and Sam's position being so weakened that their feckless, lazy relatives could force pay-outs was the idea that they may discover the Malfoy coffers were nearly empty.

Lucius's ambition and his inability, or unwillingness, to secure a Ministry position and gain influence legitimately had disastrous effects on the family fortune. Lucius just couldn't stand having limited access to politicians and policy-makers, and so millions of Galleons had been donated to charities, businesses, and Departments, all in the effort to influence policy in his own favour. Moreover, as well as spend huge sums to influence the community, Lucius had not been as shrewd a businessman as he had needed to be to replace the moneys he spent. The Malfoy family was very close to financial ruin.

Draco had had no idea about any of this until that morning, when a letter from their solicitor had arrived. With his father on the run, Draco was expected to organize business matters. It had been sickening to see how much money his father had wasted on this or that, and that those ventures net results were slim to nil. In February, when he turned seventeen, he would be in complete control of the finances. His mother would need to be placed on a strict allowance and he'd already decided to set up a separate Trust Fund for Sam. If nothing could be salvaged in time for himself, he would not allow his sister to become a beggar. She deserved a future.

Draco had been in no rush to react to the changes in the community. Some decisions, like joining the staff of the newspaper, had been time sensitive; sycophantic students had been lining up just a few days after Draco, begging Hermione to allow them to write for her. Once on the paper, he had begun to bide his time. Although his articles had a quite moderate slant, communication had trickled to Draco, via his Aunt Bellatrix via this aunt and that uncle, that the Dark Lord was pleased with his ingratiation into Potters circle of friends. But the more pressing issues he had left for 'later', and now he had to act swiftly.

At least he had been able to immediately formulate a plan, which, hopefully, would allow him to be relatively happy whilst overseeing the regeneration of the family fortune. Lucius had decided, when Draco was seven, that he would have a career in the Ministry, and Draco had actually looked forward to it. After coasting through school, a position in an influential Department would be bought, and Draco would rise rapidly to the top of the bureaucracy. Finally a Malfoy would be the Minister, and the Dark Ages could begin. It was his fathers dream.

However, his father was no longer able to implement such a dream. He was on the run from the Minister, a man who'd once been his puppet. The money he had planned to use to buy Draco's position was squandered; the only way to raise enough money for a respectable bribe was by selling the controlling interest in the few businesses his father had not already mortgaged. Draco, oddly, couldn't imagine selling more stocks and losing control of businesses and industries his ancestors had worked diligently to establish. And he certainly wasn't going to do it so he could pass power to the Dark Lord!

Instead of the easy future his father would have purchased for him, Draco would have to work his ass off to influence the Ministry and recoup his fortunes at the same time. It would take time, and he would probably never have the time it took to campaign for the top portfolio, but he recognized that Sam was a better candidate than him, anyways. Or, perhaps, the next generation of Malfoy's would produce a star equal to Samantha's. He, instead, would have to enter the Ministry on merit, probably in a position demanding actual work, and he'd have to study like mad to do so. He was even taking four NEWT courses, which was quite enough. He had nearly gagged when he heard Potter, who had never had to work for anything his entire life, was taking more courses than him. He assumed it was Granger's influence.

This was a bigger game than he'd ever played before, and more was on the line than ever before. Draco wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, that something would go wrong. He couldn't see where, though. Draco wasn't confident that the Dark Lord would triumph; if he, a loyal Death Eater's son and a Death Eater himself, wasn't willing to sacrifice for the Master, how could he possibly gain the support of the community?

While before he had been looking forward to a good, drawn out fight, now Draco worried that the war would drag on. The longer it lasted, the worse things looked for his family. Draco needed a stabilized economy and a confident public if he was to recoup the money Lucius had thrown away. And say Voldemort did win. What assurance did Draco have that his business interests would be protected? That his stores would continue to buy cheap goods and sell them at high prices? That his little sister could have a few years to travel before she took a job and started a family? None! In fact, he didn't see any financial benefits coming from a Dark win. At least with the status quo he knew that he had a chance to rehabilitate his family's resources, before they realized that they were nearly broke.

To do all this without being detected, he had to be more Slytherin than Slytherin himself.

His character would need to appear reformed, starting now, which is where the newspaper came in. Draco had received more mail from readers' than anyone, save Granger. He took care to mention as many comments as he could in every article, and quoted heavily from popular sources, like Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley or Madam Bones. His articles were always on popular and exciting ideas, and he always appeared to support each one to the tilt.

Around school, he was distancing himself from Crabbe and Goyle; an honest person has no need of enforcers. Besides, the idiots had lost their effectiveness last June when Weasel and Co. had managed to escape from Umbridge's office and have their fathers arrested. As much as he could, Draco tried to associate with Rufus Ratstamper and Tobias Trubble, the other sixth year Slytherin's, both of them from moderate families supportive of Dumbledore and the Ministry. He also tried to endure as many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as he could. He basically kept his head down and his nose to the ground. He stored gossip and innuendo like it was going out of fashion. He had enough good blackmail for quite a few small favours.

Since he couldn't become Head Boy- not after being a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, another brilliant idea of his fathers- he could relax his involvement in Prefect Duties. He couldn't lapse them all together, but he didn't have the time to do everything. He wasn't Granger.

Which brought up another complication. An unforeseen problem had arisen, one he seriously had not previously considered. Granger wasn't as annoying as she had always been in the past. In fact, he might actually enjoy her company, although he wasn't sure yet. And Sam said that she treated her well; Draco had expected her to make Sam's life a living hell-he had been making her cousins' lives a living hell until Sam told him to stop.

The stress was driving him mad. He couldn't mess this up, or he'd fail Sam and himself. He needed the war to end quickly, and with an outcome that would benefit him. Hence, he would throw his support behind Dumbledore, and do whatever it took to exit this war in a favourable position. Second, he needed to restructure the businesses he would control in February. He hadn't the slightest clue what that even meant- the solicitor had told him in no uncertain terms that a restructuring was desperately needed- so he'd have to figure something out. Perhaps Uncle Oberon would support him; the old man was the closest thing to even-tempered the Malfoy family could offer. Third, he had to control his mothers spending, she spent half of the estate's earnings on herself, and his father had always let her. Fourth, he had to set something up for Sam, keep her at Hogwarts for Christmas, send her to a friends for the summer- generally keep her away from the family. Fifth, he had to keep the Dark Lord appeased, make him think that he still supported him. If he did gain power, Draco didn't want to be the one who screwed everything up. Sixth- dear Merlin- he needed to do something about Granger! As helpful as she would be, there was no way he could establish a friendship with her. It would be suicide.

He needed to stop this, now. He could not afford to become involved in Granger's life, or anyone's. In fact, he should probably break up with Morag, which would have happened soon, naturally. He needed to focus on his future, on Sam's future, and the future of their family. He realized that this would take years, and any hope of relaxing and enjoying the fruits of his labours would be placed on hold for at least thirty, maybe forty years. It was the most difficult route he could have chosen- much easier to throw support behind someone else, like Uncle Oberon, and pray- but Gryffindor had said he could be a leader. Plus, it was the right thing to do, for himself, his family, and maybe for everyone in general. He'd have to find a way.

*****************

"I- hate- Professor- Gryffindor," Lavender managed as she pushed herself up. "Twelve!" she cried triumphantly as she collapsed back to the floor. Rolling over, she tried to catch her breath. "What'd you think, Mione?" she gasped.

Hermione forced her arms to obey her commands. They refused and she ended up on the ground between Parvati and Lavender. "I'm just thinking about what the boys'll look like."

Parvati groaned. "I know! Well, they don't all need it, do they? Ron's a right spark, already, and Harry's not really far behind, what with his mussed up hair and his pretty eyes."

"Odd, though, thinking about those two that way," Lavender said.

"Don't I know," Hermione huffed. "Ron kissed me this summer."

"He didn't! But, he was dating Padma, and your dating Viktor Krum," Parvati exclaimed.

"Casually, Parvati. We can see other people if we want too. I just didn't think Ron and I would kiss. And this was after Padma began dating Anthony."

"What was it like, then? Ron seems worthwhile," Lavender said.

"Oh, definitely. Much better than Viktor, and I'm not sure how, really, since it's Ron we're talking about," Hermione said, pushing herself back up into push-up position.

Lavender and Parvati laughed. "We'll," Lavender said slyly, "maybe George gave him some pointers."

"You kissed George?" Parvati demanded.

"Yes, and it was fabulous!"

"That's mad, Lav. Your mad!" Hermione grunted as she managed her final push-up. "Yes! I'm done, I can do it. Now I just need to learn how to run, and I'm all set."

The other two girls groaned. Hermione got off the floor and grabbed her Transfiguration and Charms work. She had massive amounts of practice to do if she didn't want to fall behind.

She padded out of the dormitory and made her way to Gryffindor's office. School was only in its sixth week, and already dozens of people spent their evenings in Gryffindor's office. Students working on any subject could find help there, from Gryffindor herself if she knew 'what the hell [they were] talking about?', or the actual teacher, who was more than likely to drop by. In fact, only Snape, who bitterly hated Gryffindor, and vis versa, and Professor Glyphus, who was a good bit odd, failed to show up. Even Professor Trelawney came by every once in awhile.

Professor Gryffindor was the most energetic person Hermione had ever known. She was up everyday, sometimes as early as three, to make early classes, and she was up every night until the last student was finally able to do whatever they had troubles with.

She had opened Harry's Occlumency lessons to anyone who wanted to learn, knowing it'd be less suspicious than just teaching Harry, and several students had joined up. She worked the students to the bone in Defense, and they practiced so hard that few students needed to go to Dueling Club, although older students tried to make the time.

Pushing the office door open, Hermione was greeted with a sight she had come to love. Dozens of students and teachers squashed into a magically expanded room, all together and learning. McGonagall was there marking papers.

"Hello, Professor," Hermione said, sitting next to her.

"Ms. Granger," McGonagall greeted her. "How are you doing with yesterday's homework?"

"Oh, fine. Finished it yesterday night. I'm not sure about the practical bit, though." A burst of laughter came from the group Flitwick was tutoring on Cheering Charms. Hermione grinned. "I love this."

"Yes, it's quite exciting," McGonagall said. "Not what we've come to expect at Hogwarts, but certainly what we should. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Hermione explained her problems with conjuring. At the moment they were only trying to conjure pebbles, and Hermione could do that fine. It was when she tried to conjure a certain shaped pebble, or coloured pebble that she had problems. McGonagall gave her a bit of help, and soon Hermione was managing to conjure any type of pebble she wished, colour or shape.

"Thank-you, Professor," Hermione said as McGonagall was waylaid by a group of third-years trying to change the colour of their book covers.

Moving into the group Flitwick was working with, which now included mainly sixth and seventh years, Hermione stood next to Ron and Harry as the Professor explained the theory behind the Homorphus Charm.

"It's used in the Animagus Transformation, of course, and also in the Defense against Werewolves and Vampires. It's quite simple, really, you just need strong concentration and a bit of practice. Now, to make it work-"

They didn't make it back to their Common Room until twelve o'clock, and Hermione immediately begged exhaustion and went to bed. Her alarm clock went off far too early, and after a shower, she decided she needed a bit of the Wake-Up Potion that she kept beside her bed.

Classes started that morning with Potions, then Herbology and Arithmancy. After she finished her homework, she scurried to the Press Room, in the Dungeons.

"Hello," Hermione called to Luna and Ginny, who were editing stories. "How's all this, then?"

"Good," Luna said placidly, that silly half-witted smile on her face. Hermione wondered how many people that harmless face had fooled. "Really good, in fact. I think the writers are getting the knack of writing for print."

"And another load of subscriptions came in," Ginny added. "Mainly from parents and relatives wanting know what's going on, but also from Ministry workers and the Wizengamot. They seem to appreciate our 'alternative voice', as one witch puts it."

"And the Irish Wizards Free Press has asked permission to reprint your last article. The one on the history of House Elf Enslavement, you know? They thought it was fantastic," Luna finished, flourishing a letter in front of Hermione's face.

Hermione grabbed the letter and shrieked with joy. "Oh, they actually used the word fantastic! I have to write them back and say yes," she said.

The Hornblower had been an immediate success, of course. At five knuts a copy, half the students bought it, and half the students borrowed it. Complimentary copies were sent to the School Governors and the teachers. Over seven hundred subscriptions had poured in already from parents of students, passed students, and parents expecting their children to be placed at Hogwarts. And now the Ministry employees and revered members of the community were subscribing!

There were opinion columns, which were excellent, even with Draco Malfoy's name heading one, and there was a weekly script for each House. Music reviews and book reviews took up one page, while Quidditch and Horoscopes filled another. The daily events at the school filled the middle of the paper, while events in the outside world filled the first few pages. Colin Creevey was the staff photographer, and he did a marvelous job.

There was a page dedicated to helping Muggle parents of students understand what was going on, and a glossary of terms to help them understand the difference between Charms and Curses and such. There was a gossip column, filled with anything Hannah Abbott and Megan Jones could think of (Ron was mentioned a lot, as 'King', something Hermione was afraid she'd just have to live with). Students could send in anything they wanted, and if it was good enough (like Dean Thomas's sketching cartoon), or important enough (like Regan Miller's rant on conformity), it would be printed.

And the best part was that the House Elves were being helped.

It was a bit of trouble, though she expected that to smooth out soon. She'd bounced Morag from the Slytherin weekly column and asked her to follow the Wizengamot, something she agreed to immediately. Draco was allowed to write whatever he wanted, as it was pretty good usually, although Hermione made sure it was edited for content. Ron had been bumped into helping write the Horoscope, as Parvati was moved into writing the Gryffindor column when Natalie MacDonald asked to help with the outside news.

Now the Irish Wizards Free Press, an academic journal with an enviable and ancient reputation, wanted to publish her research on the history of House Elf Enslavement. Life was picking up.

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron called. "What's with all this? Your not going to print it, are you?" he asked, jabbing his hand at that weeks gossip column.

"Why?" Hermione asked as she took it from him. Skimming through the usual drivel Megan and Hannah concocted, annoying but harmless, Hermione found the section Ron found particularly offensive.

"This week at Hogwarts, most girls are anxiously awaiting an invitation to Hogsmeade, for Halloween. While several boys have asked, few have gotten dates, as most girls are hoping the Gryffindor King, Ron Weasley, will ask them.

"King declined comment, preferring a virile growl to an actual answer to this reporters question on whom he may ask. One can only assume it will be either Hermione Granger, currently 'casually dating' international Quidditch star Viktor Krum, or Morag MacDougal. Morag and King have struck up quite the friendship this year, and are often caught flirting and such in the halls of Hogwarts, even though Morag is currently dating Draco Malfoy.

"Another hot commodity for the Hogsmeade week-end is Harry Potter, co-Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Though certainly non-committal about an answer, Harry blushed and darted away as quickly as possible when this reporter asked about his plans. He's so bashful!"

"Oh, God!" Hermione moaned. "They can't say that! And when did Megan ask you about your plans?"

"She didn't, she asked me to go to Hogsmeade with her. Attacked me, really!" Ron said, and let out the growl Megan had described as virile. Actually, Hermione tut-tutted Megan in her mind, it's furious. "Hermione, this is ridiculous. I don't want people thinking that I'm after you or Morag!"

"Why not, Ron?" Hermione teased. "Not pretty enough for you?"

"Your plenty pretty, you know that," Ron groaned. "I'm just not about to-" he stopped, realizing that he already had. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and managed a straight face. "Listen, I'm not going to ask you, or Morag, so why let her print lies?"

"Who will you ask, then?" Hannah queried from the door. She had just arrived.

"Well, if you want to join me, Han, that'd be lovely," Ron said, quickly stopping his angry rant and allowing himself to be charming. He walked over to Hannah and leaned lazily against her desk. "C'mon, luv, you want to come out with me. You know it."

"I've a boyfriend, King," Hannah said, trying to be stern, but really just seeming coy.

"Doesn't bother me. Bring him along, I'll show how he should treat you," Ron said huskily. Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was holding back laughter at such an effort that tears of mirth were beading at her eyes. She held up one hand, in a kind of pleading fashion, and slapped it over her mouth. "What do you say, then, Hannah?" Ron continued.

"I can't, King. You know that."

"Well, just sneak off for a bit. Meet me somewhere," Ron dropped his voice, "private." Hannah blushed red at this and jumped up from her seat. She fled the room, shutting the door after her. Ron turned to the other girls and flashed a grin. "How was that!" he crowed.

Ginny couldn't hold it in any longer. She bust out laughing so loud she began to cough. "Oh, my dear brother," she chuckled, "you are unbelievable."

Hermione shook her head. "Why do you keep doing that to poor Hannah? She's a nice girl," she admonished.

"Yeah, she is. And she's smart and pretty, too," Ron answered. "She's completely wasted on Smith and she doesn't even know it." He grinned. "Ten to one she sends me a note for a meet." With that, and a wink, Ron left the Press Room.

A few hours later, near midnight, Hermione was alone in the Press Room when Draco came in. "You're late, Malfoy! I nearly filled your space with '10 Ways to Keep Your Wand Working in Tip-Top Form,'" Hermione said.

"Sounds worthwhile. Maybe next week, hmm?" Draco drawled. "I changed my article completely. Started off writing about Quidditch rivalries, and finished with this." He handed her a short article.

Saint Potter: Acceptance and Why We Need It

Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Gryffindor, told me earlier this year that acceptance is paramount when battling the Dark Arts; that you must separate the threat from the innocent.

Acceptance is what our society needs. If we are to overcome You-Know-Who, we must unite our entire community against him. Only by putting aside our petty concerns can we truly defeat any threat.

The personification of this unity is Harry Potter. Potter is a half-blood, raised by Muggles, and only learned of the Wizarding world when he was eleven. By eleven, I already knew that Purebloods were the only worthwhile wizards and witches. Potter's friends include Purebloods, Half-bloods, and Mudbloods. They include Werewolves, Half-Giants, Centaurs and House-Elves. If he ever met a Goblin, he'd probably make it smitten with him in no time flat.

But, and I hate to say this, we need more Potters. One is not enough, although Potter is in the interesting position to influence our entire society.

It's fitting that Potter destroyed You-Know-Who the first time. You-Know-Who thrives on our insecurities and fears, which Potter doesn't harbour. You-Know-Who knows that our greatest weakness in the magical community is something that's nearly impossible to overcome:

We're afraid of each other.

We in the magical community must come together, we must fight together if we're to have any chance at ending this constant terror we live under. We must forget what happened in the last War, what happened a hundred years ago, what happened a thousand years ago. If we can, then the next Dark Lord will have more trouble than this one.

So, let's ensure our futures are Dark Lord free.

Go hug a House-Elf today!

"What do you think?" Draco asked, pretending not to care.

Hermione looked at the article. It was good; it said exactly what she'd been trying to figure out for months. What made Harry so special? Draco had figured it out for her. But, did he really want her to print this?

"Draco, are you sure? I mean, I print this, and it's public record that you feel this way. And when did you start to think this way?" Hermione asked. She couldn't believe Draco Malfoy had just written this.

"A while ago, I suppose. Tried to keep it quiet, but I kept trying to write it, anyways, so I decided to get it out. Let it be public record, I won't be afraid any longer."

"All right, then," Hermione said a bit dazed. She smiled. "I have this nice space of the front page..."

Draco shook his head, smiling a bit. "You just want to nail to coffin shut, don't you?"

********

Harry couldn't believe it when Hermione had handed him an advance copy of that week's Hornblower. "He doesn't insult me once?" Harry asked in amazement.

"I know! I could hardly believe it. Can you, Ron?"

"Well, yeah," Ron sighed. "I should have said something, but, a while ago when I was reading tea leaves, they said an enemy would join us. I didn't think it'd be Malfoy until later when I was working with the crystal ball. It wasn't all that surprising on an astrological sense, either, since Aquarians are known for rebelling against their parents and tradition."

"You knew?" Hermione demanded. "You knew he was going to switch sides and you didn't tell us?"

"He had to do it, Mione, not us! What could we have done, really?" Ron demanded.

"We could have been kinder, made him feel welcome," Hermione said.

"Kind? That would have made him run to Voldemort," Harry said, finally finished reading the article. "Ron was right, this had to be Malfoy's choice, and we can't lie about our feelings now. We can only change them." Harry frowned. "Not sure how, though. I've hated Malfoy for a long time."

"We'll just all have to make an effort," Hermione said, sounding eerily reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of Draco's very public declaration of loyalty. On the one hand, he was distrustful of anything Malfoy did. On the other hand, people changed. They grew, they matured, and are influenced by different things and people. If Malfoy had changed in the last few months- well, he wouldn't be the only one.

Not for the first time since June, Harry wished desperately for Sirius. Sirius would know what to do. But now, all Harry had to go by were his friends.

"So, do you think we should trust him?" Harry asked.

Ron looked up, frowning. "I think so. I hate him as much as anyone, but we can't very well say, 'No, thanks, Malfoy, go play with You-Know-Who,' can we?"

"I think so, as well. Nothing could make Draco say anything remotely nice about Harry except a true change of heart. Not Lord Voldemort, not his father, not anyone," Hermione said. "And he hasn't really been awful to any of us this year."

"Well," Ron said, standing and stretching, "it's not making a difference right now. Not at the moment, anyways. We'll just have to watch him, carefully, before we let ourselves trust him."

"Ron?" Hermione began. "Well, can't you- I mean, couldn't you just... See whether he's being honest?" When Ron groaned, Hermione rushed on. "I mean, I don't really trust Divination, and what you said before, it could just have been coincidence, right? Can't you just check again, and find out for sure if it was Malfoy?"

"Hermione, it doesn't work that way. I'm not good enough yet to actually focus on someone and test faith. I need much more practice before I can do anything that powerful."

"Ron's right, Hermione," Harry said. "Besides, we can't test every questionable person. What about Dung? Would you test him? And he's a crook."

Hermione gave a small frown and tossed her hair. "There's no need for you two to treat me as if I'm stupid," she said and flounced up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Must be her time of the month," Ron said as the two friends stared in horror at Hermione's quickly receding back.