Darkness Falling

Darkness Falling

*

Make New Friends

*

"Oi, Harry!" called out a familiar voice. "There you are!" The bespectacled teen didn't have enough time to even turn around when he was already spun around by his friend. "You've grown, I see," Ron said mischievously, checking him from head to toe. "Who knows? Maybe you've already got past Hermione!"

"I heard that," Hermione said right behind him. "And I think he's still shorter than me." With a smile at Harry, she added, "Well, let's just hope that Malfoy hasn't grown past you!"

"What's happened, mate?" asked Ron as they together rushed towards the train. "We haven't heard half a word of you for the whole summer! I suspected you were at the Grimmauld Place, but Mom wouldn't let us there. Now tell us, what's going on? Some secrets you can't tell us?"

Harry sighed a bit. "I'm afraid so, Ron," he muttered. Yes, secrets, truly. After he'd been again saved from the Dursleys and taken to the Order Headquarters at Grimmauld Place, Number Twelve, he'd immediately been put in training. True, Voldemort had now been defeated, but the War was far from over. There were still Death Eaters going around, and he needed to be ready. Snape had taught him more Occlumency and Legilimency -- with desperate practice, Harry was now rather good at them -- and potions that certainly would never show up in the Hogwarts curriculum. Remus had been teaching him curses, countercurses, hexes, and such, at least until... Well, until. After that, both Snape and Remus had disappeared, and although they had shown up for Order meetings, Harry had never had the chance to exchange two words with either of them. He'd been writing to Remus, though, whenever he'd had time between his lessons -- Kingsley, Moody, whoever had time had started to teach him -- and had learnt things that absolutely horrified him. At the moment, he couldn't really decide who were worse, Voldemort, or the Ministry.

"What?" Ron's eyes widened as he now rushed through the train to find an empty compartment. "What's this, Harry? You've never kept anything from -- uff!" And then, he ran into somebody, knocking the person over. At first, he started to apologize, but when he saw who the person was, he sneered instead, not even thinking about apologizing anymore. "Malfoy," he spat. "Can't you even watch where you are going?"

"Ron, stop it," Hermione said. "He hardly could --" However, she never finished her sentence. Instead, her mouth hung open as she stared at something. Something that was tied around Malfoy's left arm.

Ron noticed this thing too. He, however, was not left wordless. "Well, decided to announce your side at last, eh, Malfoy?" the redhead asked. "A bit late, though, but then again, now you don't have to face old snakeface to do that. That's the reason, isn't it? You are too much a coward to take the true Mark. Hurts like the Hell, taking it, I've heard. You're seemingly not enough a man to even be properly evil!"

Now, Harry had got a sight of Malfoy behind his friends. He, too, was surprised, and gasped. However, unlike Hermione and Ron, he knew what this meant. He knew very well what this white cloth with a black skull meant -- and it had nothing to do with Death Eaters. Instead, it had everything to do with the Ministry.

Making his way around Ron, he wordlessly offered a hand to Malfoy. At first, the blond Slytherin just stared at him. Then he hesitantly reached out to grasp Harry's hand, allowing himself to be helped up. He'd previously been too shocked about this sudden encounter to even stand up by himself.

"So it's you, too?" asked Harry with a quiet voice. "What did it to you, if I may ask?"

Malfoy gave him a humourless smirk. "My grandfather fell in love with the absolutely wrong person," he replied. "And then my mother fell in love with the absolutely wrong person, too. And these unfortunate events led to me being born, and, well, one can't deny one's inheritance."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Ron. "Why're you helping that git, Harry? He's openly announced his side in the War! You should have nothing to do with the likes of him!"

Now, however, Harry turned slowly towards Ron. "Be quiet about things you know absolutely nothing about, Ron," he said as calmly as he could. It came out more as a hiss than as a reminder to a friend. Then he turned towards Malfoy. "Do you already have a compartment?" he asked.

"No," the boy replied, shaking his head. "I'm looking for the compartment where the new teachers are -- they've already settled to the castle, but they are travelling with us. Added security, you know." He raised an elegant eyebrow, and smirked slightly. "Although the Ministry wouldn't probably be very happy if they knew whom Dumbledore picked to be this 'added security,' if you get my drift."

"You don't mean --" Harry's eyes widened. "Is Professor Lupin coming back?"

"Yes, he is," Malfoy replied. "And somebody else, too. Now, will you let me go? I really should go there."

"Actually," Harry said, eyeing Ron's outraged and Hermione's shocked expression, "would you mind if I came with you? It's been ages since I last saw Remus, and I'd like to talk with him."

Malfoy raised his eyebrow again. "Sure, go ahead," he said, then tried to make his way past the Trio. Ron, however, stepped in front of him, rather effectively blocking the way.

"Now, tell me what's going on," Ron said. "What's the meaning of that mark? And what are you talking about -- Ministry and new professors and all that? And since when have you and Harry been so close?"

"At first, Weasley, we're not any closer than before," the Slytherin replied coolly. "Potter just seems to have some more sense than you other Gryffindorks -- every one I've seen today has been pointing at me and screaming. A few even fainted, I believe. Anyway, as for the other questions -- well, you'll just have to wait for the Welcoming Feast to get your answers." He again made to move, but Ron still stood in the way. Harry opened his mouth to tell Ron to let him go, but Malfoy waved him off. "I can take care of myself, Potter," he said, then turned towards Ron. When he spoke again, his voice was honey and milk, an inhuman mix of sweetness and charm. "Now, my dear boy, do me a favour and let me pass," he said, flashing his most charming smile. Ron immediately complied. Malfoy went past him with a smirk, then added over his shoulder, "Oh, and Ron, my dear, will you please walk the rest of the day without your trousers?"

"Exactly how did you do that?" asked Harry curiously as he hurried after Malfoy, his wish to see Remus stronger than his dislike for the boy, especially when it was tainted by his compassion to Malfoy. Over his shoulder he saw that Hermione was doing her best to stop Ron from stripping off his trousers while she was looking after them, her eyes very wide. "You just -- oh, don't tell me," he said just as Malfoy turned towards him with a smirk, preparing to explain. "That's it, isn't it? You're a part Veela!"

"A quarter so," Malfoy replied calmly. "My Father is a half Veela. So, when Fudge forced through the first Dark creature regulations, Father was furious to say the least. When he then threatened Fudge, the fool put up even more restrictions to keep him from harming him. And, well, I suppose you know where it is now."

"Yes, I know," Harry replied quietly. He had been keeping contact with Remus, after all. "At first, it was only that cloth -- to 'make others able to recognize the danger,' I believe. Then came the restrictions of using any offensive magic, and the alterations of wands to prevent that. Then, the prohibitions against marrying, adopting, or being adopted by a human were extended to part Dark creatures from only full ones. And the most recent, I believe, is forcing all Dark creatures, full, half, or quarter so, to have a registration mark -- this far, that law's only concerned full werewolves." He shuddered at the mere thought of all those regulations. It was simply inhuman. No, Voldemort was nothing compared with the Ministry.

"Exactly." Malfoy nodded slightly. Then he stopped, by Harry's mind randomly, in front of a door to one compartment. "This is it," he said, and pushed the door open before disappearing inside. Harry followed him, determined to meet Remus and talk with him, not worrying about the Slytherin.

When he stepped into the compartment, however, he froze in shock. Remus was there, true, a black skull around his left arm as well. However, what shocked Harry was the fact that the werewolf was deep in a seemingly civil conversation with Lucius Malfoy, of all the people. The elder Malfoy's arm also had the Ministry cloth tied around it, and he looked rather bitter about something.

"Father!" exclaimed Malfoy as soon as he got inside. "It truly took some time to find you!"

"Well, you did find us at last, didn't you?" asked Mr. Malfoy, smirking a bit. "And who's --" His eyes widened slightly, not enough for most people outside the Slytherin House to even notice, but the War had made Harry keen for details. "Mister Potter?" he asked, his voice carefully blank.

"Mister Malfoy," replied Harry, nodding a bit. "Or, should I say... Professor Malfoy?" Then, turning towards the other adult wizard, he said with a smile, "And Professor Lupin. It's really wonderful to see you here!" He meant it, too. After Sirius's death, the two had become rather good friends.

"We're not at the school yet, Harry," replied Remus with a slight, although tired smile. "You know very well you can call me Remus in private. How do I find you without your friends?" he asked then.

Harry shrugged, sitting down next to the werewolf, completely ignoring the two blonds opposite to them. "I wanted to talk with you, and Malfoy claimed to be going to your compartment," he replied. "Ron and Hermione didn't seem too eager to follow a Slytherin, so I came alone."

"I understand." And Harry knew that Remus did understand. He always did. "So, what did you want to talk about?" asked the werewolf then, giving him another tired smile.

"I don't know," Harry confessed sheepishly. "Everything. Anything." After a brief moment of silence and another glance at the white cloth around the werewolf's left arm, he asked, "Have there been any new regulations I haven't yet heard of, perhaps? Or is the Minister content for now?"

"Interesting questions you're asking, Mr. Potter," Mr. Malfoy said dryly. He looked very elegant, the white cloth around the arm of his perfectly tailored black robe taking nothing away from his usual cool, dangerous charm. Harry realized now that it must have something to do with his Veela blood.

However, he was not intimidated by the elder wizard's cool gaze. He'd faced Snape too many times to be scared by that. So, he just shrugged. "I prefer to know who are my enemies," he replied calmly. "And, at the moment, I think that the Ministry is far more dangerous than the few Death Eaters still running at large." He looked the man bravely in the eye while saying this. Not many knew of it, but for a few years, Lucius Malfoy had been a spy for Dumbledore, at least as important one as Snape had been.

"Excellent thinking, Mr. Potter," was the response he got to that. "Remus here was just telling me that there's something in your head beyond that scar, but I dared to disagree. However, it seems that I've been proved wrong almost immediately." A quirk of an eyebrow accompanied the next statement. "Of course, I expect you to use this remarkable intelligence of yours in the class as well."

"What subject are you teaching, anyway, Father?" asked Malfoy then, cutting in to their conversation. "I didn't know there were any openings, well, other than the usual DADA position, of course. And on that note, since when have you been in first-name basis with Professor Lupin?"

Mr. Malfoy raised his eyebrow at his son. "I've been in first-name basis with Remus since we became colleagues, and otherwise got to the same boat, so to speak," he replied. "And I will be teaching Charms. Filius Flitwick retired, and I am stepping into his place."

"Why couldn't you have become the teacher for History of Magic instead?" asked Harry, unable to help himself. "All students would love you if you could have one lesson without anybody falling asleep!"

"Well, I truly do hope nobody will fall asleep on my lessons," the blond adult wizard replied calmly. "However, I do fear that the History of Magic position has now been filled for the indefinite future. Professor Binns was about just as boring when I attended to school, and as he still hasn't slowed down -- or speeded up, for that matter -- I do not think he's going to retire anytime soon. If ghosts ever do retire, of course -- which I highly doubt." Then he returned to their earlier topic. "So you think that the Death Eaters are less a threat than the Ministry? What are you going to do about the Ministry, then?"

"Well, at the moment, nothing," Harry replied. "At first I'll hunt down all the Death Eaters, or wait until they've been caught, either way. Then, with no Dark threat breathing down my neck, I'll have myself elected as the Minister of Magic. Then I'll cancel all those stupid restrictions and arrange new laws to ensure equal human rights for everyone -- even those who aren't considered humans by the current law."

All the three Dark creatures -- one full, one half, and one quarter -- clapped their hands, Remus smiling slightly, the Malfoys smirking. "The scariest thing is, I know that you will manage," Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. "You won't have to try to become the Ministry of Magic -- you only have to choose so."

"Indeed. Harry Potter, Minister of Magic." Mr. Malfoy looked even more interested in Harry now. "Let's just hope you'll get elected while there are still some Dark creatures left."

"Lucius," Remus said with a warning tone. "Do not talk like that in the children's presence."

"I hardly think either of them can be considered a child anymore, Remus," replied Mr. Malfoy dryly, "if either of them has ever been that to begin with. They grew up with the War; if they do not understand this, then something has gone awfully wrong in their upbringing." Raising an eyebrow at his son, he continued smoothly, "And as I cannot make any mistakes in anything I do, the logical conclusion on Draco's part is..."

Malfoy actually laughed a bit. "I do know that it's very possible that Fudge takes this to executions at worst, yes," he then said seriously. "I should be relatively safe, as I'm three quarters a human, but you two are at a great danger." He nodded at his father and Remus, who both looked at him seriously in return. "However, if everything else fails, we'll just have to leave the country, right? Weasley will warn us if Fudge plans anything too bad. At least that's what Mother told me."

"Well, your mother was right," Mr. Malfoy said calmly. "She's always right -- except when she replied, 'Yes,' to a particular question of mine. That she shouldn't have done. Anyway," he continued as he noticed the weird glances he was getting from Harry and Remus, "I'm afraid I have to ask you not to keep too much contact with her. We don't want the Ministry getting on her trail, now do we?"

"Of course not," replied Malfoy, behaving as if the Gryffindors didn't even exist and it was just he and his father in the compartment. "So you have already had the divorce, haven't you?"

"Mmm-hmm," replied the elder blond. "We signed the papers just two days ago. It was not something we wanted to do, but we had to. And anyway, I can't say that Severus is too disappointed about that."

"I didn't think he would be." Noticing Harry's now astonished expression, Malfoy smirked, turning towards his classmate. "Just for your information, Potter, so that you won't destroy your little brain while trying to understand," he said, "my Father's sleeping with Professor Snape. Yes, my Mother knows, and yes, she even approves -- I don't know nor do I even want to know how Father managed that; it has to have something to do with him being a half Veela. I'm not even half as sexually unsatiable and desperate as he is, although considering that at the moment I'm finding even you appealing, my Veela blood must be taking over me. And now, unless you want to run away and scream bloody murder, I wouldn't mind it if you called me Draco. We do have an enemy in common now, after all -- Cornelius Fudge, that is."

For a moment, Harry just stared at Malfoy, his jaw hanging open. Then, at last, he managed to force himself to stay, "Yeah, whatever, Malfoy -- or Draco. Just don't make any moves at me."

"What's wrong with him, Lucius?" asked Remus mildly as they watched the two teens getting concentrated in a heated conversation concerning Quidditch. "I can partly understand Harry's behaviour, he's as bad as we Gryffindors go about friendliness, but that's really not like I'd expect a Malfoy behave."

"Most probably it's just the shock," the elder blond replied dryly. "He's taken all this rather badly. Of course, it might also be the steak he ate this morning, as I'd ordered the house-elves to serve him that. Draco won't be poisoned by animal blood or meat, so he's not as forced to vegetarism as I am, but it does make him a bit disoriented. I just wanted him to be a bit mixed up rather than nervous to death." Raising his eyebrow, he added, "Maybe I should have just let him be a nervous wreck."

"Maybe." Remus smiled slightly. However, he did not make any further comments on the topic.

*