They Shook Hands: Year Four (Original Version)

Dethryl

Story Summary:
Harry Potter's new life with his godfather, Sirius Black, is the stuff his best dreams were made of. As they turn 12 Grimmauld Place into a real home, Harry finally gets to hear all about his father and mother. At the Quidditch World Cup, Harry learns of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament from Mr. Lucius Malfoy. Back at Hogwarts, there's treachery afoot, as Harry is named as a fourth Champion. Can his reputation recover from what the other Houses are saying? Who will stand with him? Who will stand against him? Tasks of immense danger loom, and dark shadows are gathering again. How can Harry survive with life and limb in peril? Will Harry ever be the same again?

Chapter 24 - The Showdown

Chapter Summary:
The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey! Harry winds up in a very bad place, and his worst dreams are realized as Voldemort returns. His Death Eaters answer his call, and Harry's stomach turns when he recognizes Mr. Malfoy and all his friends' fathers. Voldemort wants a little dog and pony show to prove that he is mightier than Harry, but things don't exactly go according to plan.
Posted:
09/27/2010
Hits:
1,538
Author's Note:
All chapters are posted on Schnoogle. All chapters and some juicy extras are posted on

They Shook Hands : Year Four

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Twenty-Four - The Showdown

Harry was dumped on to cracked flagstone in a courtyard area. Fighting the urge to spew vomit all over the ground, he stood up and looked around. Tall towers reached for the sky from every corner, a bleak grey stone the colour of a storm. The wall that ran between the towers was spotty with water marks.

With a jolt of fear, Harry tried to point his wand in several directions at once. He was surrounded by figures in tatty, grey robes with long, unkempt hair. They stood in a half-circle, just watching Harry.

Then another figure approached, someone Harry had thought never to see again. His scar began to burn like he was being branded, and agony jabbed in to his mind like a knife. He fought to keep control, to not give in to despair and collapse on the spot with maddening pain.

"Hello. Harry Potter."

It was Peter Pettigrew.

"No," Harry whispered in horror. "You're dead. You're gone. The dementors got you! You don't exist anymore!"

Peter's evil grin sent shivers down Harry's spine. The eyes that Harry had last seen staring intently in to nothingness now contained a cruel intelligence. For just a second, they flashed red.

"Peter Pettigrew is gone, Harry Potter. That is correct. I am someone -- else -- now."

It was all too creepy. Harry had seen Peter Pettigrew's soul sucked out by the dementors. He'd witnessed the empty husk be escorted away by Director Bones to- to- somewhere. Harry swallowed hard. Wherever that somewhere was, it wasn't permanent enough.

"Voldemort," Harry named his enemy. There was no one else who would have gone through all this trouble just to gloat.

Pettigrew bowed slightly. "Very good, Harry Potter. It is so pleasing to have an intelligent opponent. It saves me having to explain things."

"Lucky guess," Harry grunted, fear and wrath making his tongue loose despite himself.

"You no doubt wonder how you got here and why I sent for you. Do you require the short version or the long version?"

"Short."

"The Portkey that brought you here was planted by my most faithful servant. As for why I brought you here?" Pettigrew shrugged carelessly. "I brought you here to kill you, Harry Potter."

The circle of Death Eaters laughed in appreciation of the Dark Lord's humour.

This is bad, Harry thought. I am so dead, I'm so dead! Think! Keep him talking. Ask him questions.

"I've changed my mind. Give me the long version. Why are you in Pettigrew's body?" Harry demanded, interrupting the laughter.

"I was in Albania, following our little encounter three years ago, when I heard the news of the capture of Peter Pettigrew, Death Eater. Naturally, I was quite perplexed, because he had been dead for years, and only I, of course, knew that Wormtail was the true spy in the Order of the Phoenix. When I heard how he'd been found, I said to myself, why did this loyal Death Eater not seek me out? Why did he spend twelve years in hiding? And I answered myself, because he was afraid. He had been the one to betray the Potters, and when I went to kill you, Harry, the Killing Curse rebounded on me. I was naturally quite upset by that."

Anyone would be, Harry thought flippantly. He had to bite his tongue in order to stiffle hysterical laughter that was hiding in the near corners of his mind.

"Wormtail deserved his fate, though I should have liked to have ordered it myself. Following his receipt of the dementors' Kiss, I retreived Wormtail's body from Saint Mungo's and claimed it for myself." The evil wizard paused and tipped his head to one side in apparent contemplation. "In a way, I should like to thank you, Harry. If you hadn't helped bring Wormtail to justice, I never would have been able to get a body so easily." Voldemort's lips twisted in a self-congratulatory manner. "The living body without a soul was perfect for me. Because he had accepted my Mark, this body already belonged to me."

Harry felt like vomiting again. He should have killed Pettigrew with his own hands.

"Now that we are here together, Harry, I have a little proposal for you."

"Sorry, I'm already engaged," Harry quipped. He just could not keep his flip tongue under control.

Volde-Pettigrew chuckled dryly. "I do offer a marriage, of sorts. As I said, I brought you here tonight to kill you, but there's no need for that to be what actually happens. What must I offer you to secure your alliance?"

"My parents back, you murdering sociopath!" Harry practically snarled the words, his hatred suddenly rising in the back of his throat. Dear Merlin, please give me some way to kill him!

"Alas," Volde-Pettigrew sighed regretfully, "the first thing you ask of me I cannot do."

"You told me three years ago that you could. So you're a liar, too. But then, I knew that."

"I thought to fool a stupid boy. Clearly, I underestimated you. It's a mistake I won't make again."

"Clearly." He could not resist the sarcastic reply. His wit was about to get him killed. Well, it wouldn't be the ultimate cause, but it certainly would contribute to the amount of pain he endured before it finally ended.

"I can offer you power. Together we can bring about a new order to the world. The masses will worship at our feet."

"I'm not interested in power." Harry had no particular desire to be the mightiest wizard in the world.

"What Slytherin doesn't crave power? I can offer you riches. The wealth of nations could be at your command. Anything you can think of will be presented before you even ask."

"I don't care about money."

"Knowledge? I have learned many of the most arcane secrets. I will teach you all that I know. I can show you how to bring forth the magic of your mind and accomplish feats only dreamed at before. Together we can bend the very fabric of reality. Perhaps we could even leave this plane and explore the cosmos. There could be a dimension where your parents are alive!"

Harry refused to let himself believe in that fantasy. He wasn't really fluent on the theories of alternate dimensions, but he knew that any Lily or James Potters out there would not really be his parents.

"Sorry," he managed to say, sounding mostly normal. "I'm not much of a reader."

Volde-Pettigrew had reached the end of his patience and of his list of potential bribes. Now he grew aggitated. "What do you want, Potter?!" he almost screamed.

"I want to kill you," Harry declared calmly, fixing Voldemort with his sternest eye. Professor Snape would be proud. Mr. Malfoy too. He had forgotten the fact that he was only fourteen years old. He had forgotten that the wizard he faced had somehow managed to cling to the material world with arcane secrets both terrible and awesome. All that mattered was that his parents had been murdered by this man and at last Harry could have his chance at vengeance. Though he wasn't ready, though he would most certainly die, this was his chance. He wouldn't waste it.

The most evil wizard in a generation threw back his head and cackled insanely. "So it's revenge, is it, boy? Nothing will satisfy you but to see my blood? Very well then. But know this, Potter! I am immortal! You cannot kill me. I died once, but here I stand before you. Strike me down, and I will rise again even more powerful. I have no rival! No man can be my equal! You will die tonight."

Harry was not afraid. He should have been, but somehow fear's fingers failed to grip his soul. If he were to die, then at least he would go down fighting. He would fall with his wand in his hand. He'd be able to face his mother and father without shame and say he'd done his best to avenge them.

He drew his wand, turning sideways to present a narrower profile. All his training, all his preparations had brought him to this point. He'd triumphed in the tournament; now he had to win in the street. He'd been plucked out of Hogwarts effortlessly, so his enemy was very, very smart. Harry hoped he was just a tiny bit luckier.

"But there is something else that I must do before I dispose of you, Harry." Voldemort rolled back his sleeve to reveal Peter Pettigrew's pale and wasted limb. The grinning skull and snake of the Dark Mark was a vivid red on his skin, and as Voldemort placed the tip of his wand on the Mark, it began to glow green.

"Ah!" Voldemort gasped, but he did not stop, and he seemed to enjoy the feeling. When he finally removed his wand, the tattoo had changed to solid black. He straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark courtyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Wizards were Apparating in, taking their places, completing the circle. All of the new arrivals were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes. Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master. Master," he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, rejoining the silent circle which enclosed Harry and Voldemort.

"Welcome, my friends," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years. Thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we? I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact. Such prompt appearances! And I ask myself, why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

A shiver ran through the black-robed wizards, as though each of them longed, but did not dare to step back from him. No one spoke. No one moved.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken. They thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, ignorance, and bewitchment. And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. Perhaps they now pay allegiance to another. Perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me. I confess myself disappointed."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh, but there was no humour in it. It was a cruel, mocking sound. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked. It was awful, worse than when Professor Moody had done it to the spider. Harry forced himself to watch. This is what he does to those who serve him when they displease him. He is a monster. I don't even think he's sane.

Voldemort lowered his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years. I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you."

Avery crawled back gingerly and struggled to his feet.

Voldemort began to walk around the circle. Harry followed him with his wand, expecting something tricky. Voldemort ignored him, seeming lost in recollections. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair. Destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide."

"Thank you, Master. Thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here," Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures, "we have Crabbe. You will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master."

"We will, Master."

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyle's shadow.

Nott answered, "My Lord, I prostrate myself before you. I am your most faithful scholar. I have reams of findings for you. My number theory is paramount in all the high circles."

"Lucius, my slippery friend," Voldemort whispered, halting before him. "Tell me why with all your wealth and power you could not direct your energies toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately. Nothing could have prevented me-"

"You did not serve me as well as the Lestranges did!" Voldemort interrupted. Three of the grey-robed figures stirred. "They alone tried to find me! They alone kept fighting after I had fallen! They were sent here, to Azkaban, so strongly do they believe in our cause! Crucio!"

Mr. Malfoy's mask fell off as he twitched and wiggled and flopped on the ground.

Harry wanted to be sick. It had been a lie. Everything Mr. Malfoy had ever said to him had been a twisted manipulation. He hadn't reformed. He'd only been acting at a role for nefarious purpose. Sirius had been right about him. He'd answered his master's call quickly, and he'd crawled forward to kiss the hem of his robes. So had Mr. Nott, Mr. Crabbe, and Mr. Goyle; men he knew, men he'd shaken hands with, men whose houses he'd been in. Sirius had been right about them all.

And his friends! He couldn't trust any of them anymore. Draco, Tim, Crabbe, Goyle, they were all out. All he had left were the ladies, and given how well-connected Lucius Malfoy was, he didn't want to take bets on them right now either.

Of course he could deal with that if he got out of this alive.

"Bellatrix!"

"My Lord," came a woman's voice, filled with reverence, as she bowed deeply.

"Rodolphus and Rabastan!" the Dark Lord called out.

"My Lord."

"You shall be the core of my inner circle. Lord Voldemort rewards his faithful."

"We are honoured, my Lord," Bellatrix said with another bow.

"Lucius, I will have need of your riches and contacts."

"They are at your command," Mr. Malfoy said with a deeper bow.

"Nearly everyone is accounted for," Voldemort mused, looking at the gap in the circle as though he could see people standing there. "And here we have six missing Death Eaters; three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return. He will pay the price of apostacy. One, who I believe has left me forever. He will be killed, of course. One who remains my most faithful servant and who has already reentered my service. The last serves me well at Hogwarts tonight."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"And now we come to the entertainment portion of the evening. Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my coming out party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour."

There was a chuckle of laughter, though Voldemort had made no joke.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. "You all know that when I tried to kill him, my powers were undone, but you ask yourselves why? And I answer you, his mother unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen. His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice. This is old magic. I should have remembered it; I was foolish to overlook it. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. And so for thirteen years, his mother's love has protected him. It was what destroyed Quirrell's body when I had possessed him. For months I turned the problem round and round. How to circumvent the protection of the blood, the dirty, common blood of an ignorant Muggleborn. I had plans, horribly complicated plans. And then the universe granted me a boon of unprecedented magnitude. Harry Potter left the place he called home. He renounced claim to the house of his Muggle aunt. He lost the protection his mother's death had given him. He was vulnerable."

Harry's blood ran cold. He had known about his mother's sacrifice, her willingness to die to protect him. But he'd thought it stuck with him, in his blood. It had all hung on Aunt Petunia? She had enabled some sort of protections through her blood? Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? He had told Harry about Lily Potter's love. Would it have been so hard to just explain that he was still safe only while he stayed at Privet Drive. Only a year ago Dumbledore had been trying to persuade Harry to return to Number 4. Why hadn't he said anything about endangering the protection?

"This boy has no special power! He is not stronger than I. He escaped me once before through luck and chance. Those things are finite. Lord Voldemort is eternal. The boy dies tonight, lest wagging tongues perpetuate these lies. There is no Dumbledore to help him, no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger."

This was it. He was about to die. Sorry, Padma, he thought. Sorry, Draco. Sorry, Pansy. Sorry, Jenna. I hope somehow you hear about this. I hope you know I went down fighting. I hope you find it in yourselves to fight too.

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

I'm sorry, Sirius! I'm sorry, Dad! I'm sorry, Mum!

"Crucio!"

Harry threw himself out of the way and rolled towards the edge of the circle. One of the Death Eaters stepped towards him.

"Leave him! He is mine!" Voldemort shouted.

The Death Eater ignored the command and grabbed on to Harry tightly. "Malfoy Manor may be found at One, High Street, Wiltshire," Mr. Malfoy whispered.

With a slight pop!, they vanished.

* * *

They crashed back in to reality at the courtyard of Malfoy Manor. Mr. Malfoy wasted no time at all, dragging Harry along in to the house.

Mr. Malfoy waved his wand in every direction. Doors and shutters clattered shut. Mechanical locks engaged with loud thunks and bangs. Magical symbols began to glow on the panels, throwing everything in to sharp relief.

"Narcissa!" Mr. Malfoy shouted. "Come to the sitting room immediately!"

With a pop of Apparition, Mrs. Malfoy appeared in the foyer beside her husband. She was wearing pyjamas that made Harry turn his eyes away in embarrassment.

"What is it, Lucius? Are we under siege?" She waved her wand, Summoning clothes from her closets. She dressed as Mr. Malfoy began to speak.

"The Dark Lord has returned. The day we have feared is come. We must think," Mr. Malfoy said. He sounded extremely frazzled, which was a marked difference from his customary smooth, urbane tones. "He has taken Azkaban, and the dementors now serve him. The Ministry cannot ignore this. I will not let them. We are at war."

"Did you see Bellatrix?" Mrs. Malfoy's quiet question sounded like she would rather not know.

"I did. She, Rodolphus, and Rabastan comprise his inner circle. He spoke of a faithful servant at Hogwarts, by which I assume he means-"

Mr. Malfoy broke off, glancing at Harry, who was still amazed to be alive.

"You stole Harry from under his nose?"

"I did."

"How brave of you, Lucius."

"How foolish. He will be here in moments. Our defences will keep him at bay for a time, and I dearly hope he is not at the full strength of his powers, but we must run."

"Where will we go?" Mrs. Malfoy looked very poised now that she was awake and dressed. Her hair had been braided and woven back on itself, exposing her neck.

Mr. Malfoy's lips twisted in a grimace. "It's so very ironic," he said softly. "We must go to Hogwarts. We must go to Albus Dumbledore."

Harry latched on to the word "Hogwarts" as it passed through his consciousness. Hogwarts was where Sirius was. Harry wanted his godfather, more than he had after being entered in the Triwizard Tournament, more than after learning it was dragons in the first task.

"Sirius!"

"Sirius is at Hogwarts. We'll go to him now, Harry."

They entered the Floo, emerging from the fireplace in the empty Three Broomsticks. As fast as they could, they ran for the crowd of spectators gathered to watch the final Task.

"Here, you can't come running in like that," one official-looking fellow objected.

"School governors do as they like on school grounds!" Mr. Malfoy retorted, shoving past the suddenly deferential man.

The crowd parted, and the three emerged in to the staging area for the Task. Professor Dumbledore stood there with Madame Maxime and Percy Weasley. Neither Karkaroff nor Mr. Bagman was anywhere to be seen. Cedric and his father, Fleur, Krum, Professor Snape, and Sirius were waiting as well.

"Sirius!" Harry cried as he ran forward.

His godfather's arms wrapped around him broke through the block Harry's felt holding back his emotions. He was terrified. He'd nearly died tonight. He clung to Sirius, taking comfort in his strength and soothing words.

When Harry had calmed, Sirius looked up at Mr. Malfoy. "I think some explaining is in order, Lucius."

"It is. Dumbledore, may we use your office?"

"I'm sure this will be most enlightening, Lucius." The headmaster turned to Madame Maxime. "Though Harry did not bring back the Cup, I think we can agree that he finished the maze first. Wouldn't you agree, Olympe?"

Madame Maxime put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and escorted her from the area without a word.

"Shall I make the announcement, Professor?"

"Certainly, Percy."

The Head of International Magical Cooperation amplified his voice. "After a period of waiting, our fourth champion has found his way back to us. The judges have determined the winner to be Harry Potter of Hogwarts!"

The crowd went bananas. Slytherins cheered as one of their own became the youngest winner of the Triwizard Tournament ever in history.

"Mister Potter wins the prize, one thousand Galleons! Don't spend it all in one place. Thank you all for coming and helping to make the tournament a success. Good night!"

The crowd began to disperse. Students streamed back to the castle while guests headed for Hogsmeade where both Apparition and Floo would be available.

Remus broke free from the masses and hurried over. "Harry, thank goodness you're safe."

"Remus, good," Dumbledore said. "Please come with us to my office."

"Am I in trouble, Headmaster?"

"We may all be in trouble."

Draco was hot on Remus' heels.

"Harry, well done!" His best mate was properly enthusiastic.

"There's way more going on here, Draco."

"Trouble?"

"The worst kind."

Draco began to chew his lip. Not a lot bothered Draco. He was impossible to intimidate; he'd mouthed off to a sixth-year Gryffindor prefect as a second-year. That he was showing such a twitch meant he must be very shaken up.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I get Padma?"

"No need, Draco," Padma said, approaching. "I'm already here."

She greeted Harry with a kiss and a squeeze. "I was worried. When you didn't come back, I thought the worst. They all sent up red sparks and were brought out from the centre of the maze, but there was no Cup, and no Harry. What happened?"

"We'll get to that."

Sirius held up a hand. "Padma, we have very important things to discuss with the Headmaster. I'm sure Harry will fill you in later. For now, I must ask you to excuse us."

Padma didn't like that she was being excluded. As Harry's girlfriend, she understandably expected to have total access to him at all times, especially now when there was a crisis on. Harry kissed her gently.

"I'll come find you first thing in the morning. I'll tell you everything. Your favourite study spot?"

"Fine."

Harry got many congratulations as they made their way up the path to the castle. From what he gathered, the party being planned in the Slytherin common room would be completely out of control. He wished he was in any sort of mood to enjoy it.

In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore sat behind his very large desk. Sirius and Harry sat together to one side; the Malfoys at the other. Professor Snape took a chair in the corner. Remus stood by the door.

Dumbledore began to speak. "The last any of us saw Harry, he was walking in to the maze. According to Mister Diggory, he was the first to touch the Triwizard Cup and he disappeared. He should have appeared back at the starting ground. Could the Portkey have gone awry? Ludo had planted it himself and swore to its function. Then you return to us, Harry, with Mister Malfoy in tow. Please tell us what happened."

Harry shivered. He didn't want to think about how close he had come to death. He appealed to Mr. Malfoy with a glance.

"He has returned," Mr. Malfoy said simply.

All of the blood drained from Sirius' face. "Voldemort?"

Mr. Malfoy flinched at the name. "Yes. Tonight he has taken Azkaban. The dementors and all the Death Eaters are with him."

"And how do you know this, Lucius?" Sirius asked pointedly.

Wordlessly, Mr. Malfoy rolled back his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark, throbbing and writhing on his skin.

"Do you know what this is? It is a brand of ownership, a mark signifying property. A short time ago, I felt the call of my old Master for the first time in thirteen years. It was just as I remember it in my nightmares. With dread in the pit of my stomach, I answered it, and I found myself in the courtyard at Azkaban. The fighting, if there was any at all, was already over. The stationed Aurors were dead. Those of his devoted followers he had freed were waiting for us."

"Did he explain how he managed to return?" Dumbledore asked intently. "It could be very important how he created himself a body."

"He had no need to create anything. The body already belonged to him. The Dark Lord's spirit now inhabits the former body of Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter!" Sirius half-shouted.

Dumbledore now looked to Snape. "If he simply claimed Peter's body, that would explain why your Mark returned in such force and so suddenly, Severus."

Wait, what? Professor Snape's Mark? Harry exchanged shocked glances with Draco. Had Snape been a Death Eater? Voldemort had spoken of a faithful servant at Hogwarts.

"It would indeed. What we suspected to be an indicator of his gathering strength in fact augured his full return to this plane."

"This is most serious," Dumbledore mused. He looked with a wondering eye at the Malfoys. "And what say you, Lucius? I must confess, I never thought to hear of Voldemort's return from you."

"Once he had called us all back, he was going to kill Harry in front of us to prove that he was the mightier wizard. Harry dodged a Cruciatus Curse and rolled towards me. I put my hands on him, and we Disapparated."

"He knows you betrayed him."

Mr. Malfoy laughed bitterly. "Oh, I'd be surprised if Malfoy Manor isn't in flames by now. I've been upgrading our defences ever since my dear cousin broke out of Azkaban," he said with a nod towards Sirius, "and when I felt the Dark Mark return, I placed my home under the Fidelius Charm. But because of the Mark, I do not know how safe we truly are. That is why we came here."

"Did you have nobody you could trust, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked with a hint of sadness in his voice. "No friend, no relation?"

"Narcissa thought it should be her, but I would not place her in danger. I can live with my own pain. I cannot bear hers. It is because of my love for her that I come to you now. Alone, we will die. You opposed him during the last war. I offer you my help in this one. My life is forfeit. The lives of my family as well, unless he is defeated. If I had gone along quietly, it would be only a matter of time before he demanded that I turn over Harry to him. My son's best friend? A boy who has eaten from my table and been a guest in my home? I could not betray such a trust. No Malfoy could ever live down the shame. Such a dark deed would stain our name forever. Say what you will about me -- and I know you do -- but Malfoys have their pride. Though it could bring us down, today it lifts us up. We will fight against him, Dumbledore, because we have no other choice."

"An unwilling ally-" Sirius began.

"But an ally nonetheless," Dumbledore finished. "It was said by the wise man that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Lucius, you wish to help defeat Voldemort?"

Though he shivered at the forbidden name, Mr. Malfoy nodded. "With all of my resources."

"Then I welcome you to the fight. We are glad to have you. Tell us more."

"He made a rather long speech going on about how and why Harry's blood protections had been broken."

"Can you tell me everything he said?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"It was confusing, I confess, because I do not know the magic he spoke of. The Dark Lord said that the protection Lily Potter gave to Harry by sacrificing herself in his place lingered only so long as he lived with Lily Potter's sister, by reason of her blood connection. It was that protection that destroyed poor Quirrenius. I realize now that this was your reason for why you constantly refused to allow me to take Harry away from his Muggle relations. There were better ways to protect him, Dumbledore. I believe those Dursleys are the worst sort of Muggles and need a thorough killing."

"Your beliefs are disgusting," Sirius fired off hotly. "You're not saying you disagree with Voldemort, just that you want to be free of him.

"Don't all rational wizards want to be free of him?" Mr. Malfoy asked in mock astonishment. "And don't your friends want to prevent his doing harm to Muggles?

"You hate Muggles!"

"And with cause. How many Muggles do you know, Cousin? Ask Harry what Muggles are like."

"Those pigs are not typical Muggles!" Sirius shouted defiantly. "How many times have I heard the word Mudblood from a pureblooded mouth? Your opinions about blood make me want to vomit all over your shoes."

"I have always advocated the superiority of wizards, Sirius," Mr. Malfoy stressed. "All the magical lines started somewhere. Mine goes back to five hundred fifty Ano Domini, and yours reaches to three hundred if I recall. Those wizards came from somewhere. It still happens to this day and is no less a cause for celebration. More wizards and witches is a good thing.

"The problem is the Muggles. Their society and culture is barbaric, and under the recent way of thinking, new wizards had eleven years of exposure to that corrupting influence. With the passage of the law, named for your godson I might add, we welcome Mud-ggleborns into our world immediately. Now there's no need to mistrust them, because they can be taught properly from the very beginning."

"Taught their place?"

Mr. Malfoy turned Sirius a cool stare. "We know more and they less. Who should be in the position of responsibility?"

Try though he might, Sirius couldn't seem to answer that. He struggled mightily with it, but under Mr. Malfoy's withering expression, he finally coughed and turned away to stare out the door into the hall.

"You're a snake," he finally said in a normal tone of voice. "I just thought you should know that."

Mr. Malfoy smiled in surprise. "Thank you, Cousin Sirius."

"Don't remind me," Sirius said sourly. "I still don't like you."

"But we are family, Sirius. These are new times, and the old lines have shifted. Some have merged; some have diverged. We are on the same side now, Harry's side. You should be grateful I've seen the truth resplendent, not looking for any excuse to break Harry's trust in me."

"Lucius, no doubt you already know what I require of you," Dumbledore interjected.

"I am to use my influence in the government to support our agenda. You will want people to be warned about his return, and that can't happen without Fudge's support. I will lean on him. He depends on me for his reelection. I have many friends in the Wizengamot."

"If you can sway even one of them, it will help immensely. People will not want to believe this."

"We must alert the media. Get the Daily Prophet and the Wizards Broadcast Corporation talking about his attack on Azkaban before they can be silenced. I have a friend who has been known to sell an article from time to time. Harry's account will make headlines."

"I never thought to be grateful for the talents of Rita Skeeter," Dumbledore muttered. "Will she do it?"

"She is quite fond of Harry, as I believe you know."

"Of course, of course. Very well. Set up a meeting with Fudge as soon as possible. We'll need to convince him to reach out to those whom Voldemort will likely recruit. Even if they can't be persuaded to fight against him, perhaps they will at least stay neutral."

"The giants, the vampires, and so on."

"You would know just as well if not better than I."

"I will use all of my eloquence. I make no promises, but either Fudge or his replacement will take this seriously."

"Good. Keep me informed."

"I will go to the Ministry at once. Have a room in the staff wing prepared. We shall need a place to live." Mr. Malfoy stood and embraced his wife. "I will find Elan and tell him to come here. He is vulnerable, and he doesn't know yet that he is in danger."

Mrs. Malfoy nodded her head. She looked worried, but she wasn't carrying on. Things were too serious for any kind of hysterics.

Mr. Malfoy turned to his son. With great reserve, he took stock of the boy who was very close to thinking he was a man. That boy looked back at his father with cool confidence. The reckless braggart that Harry's best mate could some times (most times) be was nowhere to be seen.

"Draco."

"Father."

"You will remain in this castle until further notice. Do not defy me on this, I implore you."

"Of course not."

"Listen to the Headmaster. I will contact you when I return."

"I will be waiting."

"Escort me to the gate. I would say my farewells in private."

The heavy door closed gently behind the Malfoys.

"What is important is what his next move will be," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "We must prepare to respond and also position ourselves positively. Severus?"

Harry had forgotten all about Snape, who sat in the corner observing all that had gone on.

"Yes, Albus?"

"If you can, you must penetrate his secrets. You are the best operative I ever had in his ranks. I need you."

"I swear, it will be done." Snape rose, leaned down, and whispered in Harry's ear, "We will speak soon. Keep this secret." He left.

"Sirius, Remus, you must alert the old crowd."

"Remus can do it himself. I'm not leaving Harry alone. I doubt you want him coming with us."

"Sirius, I need your help."

"Harry needs me. Can you say anything that is going to make me forget that?"

"You can help Harry by helping me."

"Don't do that, Albus. I will not let you use my godson against me. He needs protecting, and I trust no other to see to it." Sirius' temper was flaring; Harry could see it plainly. He felt a small thrill in his heart that his godfather was willing to defy the Headmaster, widely regarded as the mightiest wizard of the age, because of his love for Harry.

"I plan to reinvigorate the castle's defences tonight. Professor Moody has also made a number of suggestions for tightening up security. Perhaps it's time to implement them. Remember, Voldemort never dared to strike here."

"But he has no problems sending his minions in to wreck havoc," Sirius replied scornfully. "You may be strong, Albus, but your thinking has gotten a bit fuzzy. Harry, it's time for us to go home."

"Is that really neccessary, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked. "It's rather drastic, wouldn't you say?"

"Not at all. It's not safe here, Albus. You're starting to slip, old boy."

"There was nothing you could have done either, Sirius. Harry is safest here in the walls of this castle."

"Should I really run down the list of dangers Harry has faced within these walls? Dementors, to start with."

Dumbledore sighed. He looked very old suddenly. "Very well. Remus, it is up to you to approach the old crowd. You know the ones. Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, and all the rest."

"Certainly."

"Good," Sirius said, standing up.

Harry wanted to stay near Sirius. His godfather's protective aura comforted him. At the same time, he didn't want to leave school now. He needed to tell his friends what had happened and find out if they were still his friends. They'd all said to him that they would never become Death Eaters, but talk was cheap while the Dark Lord was gone. Now that he was back, surely one or more of them would be having second thoughts, particularly given that a number of fathers had answered his call.

"Sirius," Harry said softly.

His godfather's demeanour shifted instantly from mild belligerance to anxious concern. "Yes, Harry?"

"I should stay. I saw Mister Nott there tonight. Crabbe and Goyle's dads too. I want to be the one to tell them. Maybe there's a chance I can convince them to do the right thing. Maybe they can convince their dads to abandon Voldemort as well."

Remus cleared his throat. Harry had forgotten he was here too; he said barely a word so far. "I think we all need to take a moment to focus on Harry. You've all been talking far above his head. Look at him. Sirius, look at him. He's in shock. He was nearly done in tonight by the same tosser who murdered James and Lily!"

His old teacher knelt down and looked right in to Harry's face. "Are you okay, Harry? Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry felt so disconnected by everything that had gone on tonight. How could he connect words when he couldn't even formulate his thoughts? "Did you just call Voldemort a tosser?"

Remus cracked a grin. "Yes, I guess I did."

"That's hysterical." He would laugh later.

Sirius wasn't laughing either. He was now looking intently at Harry.

"Are you okay, Harry? Do you need Madam Pomfrey?"

"I think I just want to go to bed. Please don't make me leave school."

Sirius seemed conflicted. "We'll talk about it in the morning. I'll meet you outside the Great Hall after breakfast. Do you want me to walk you down to the common room?"

"It's a secret."

"Rubbish," Sirius said with a snort.

"I'll be okay. They're going to want to celebrate."

"Sure you don't want me to come?"

"Yeah. Good night."

Harry hugged Sirius and Remus and left the Headmaster's Office. He took his time to descend to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room where everybody was waiting for him.

The music was loud, the atmosphere was charged, and Harry was the centre of attention. It was overwhelming, but nobody would let him leave. He caught Draco's attention and gave a slight shake of his head. He didn't want to bring up his terror, his fear. He wasn't quite ready to spill his guts for the whole house to see, so he shoved all of his dark thoughts deep inside.

Pretend everything was fine. Never let 'em see you sweat. Harry plastered a smile on his face a mile wide. He should be ecstatic at making even more history. So he faked it. He told stories about fearsome creatures and mighty magics, of enigmas, of puzzles, and of the great duel at the last. Everyone was suitably impressed.

When they finally let him rest, his throat was parched and his eyes drowsy. In the dorm, he wearily pulled off his dirty clothing and laid down his head, asleep as soon as he touched the pillow.

to be continued...


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