Coming Of Age

Coming of Age

Chapter Seven - Restricted Access

Wednesday 12th September 2001

The corridors of Hogwarts were silent. These days there were no students running to classes, no sound of laughter (or anger). Without that intrinsic factor, it seemed cold and lonely, like a sad facsimile of its former self.

There were still a couple of groups using the buildings, one of which was the Auror College. Lucius Malfoy had disbanded the ancient College in favour of his own Federation of Aurors. Graduates of the old were not welcome in the new organisation. So Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin, who ran the College, had moved it lock, stock and spell books to Hogwarts where the ancient protection magic prevented unwanted visitors and kept the old castle as a safe haven for those who still worked and studied there.

Hermione Granger strode down the corridor leading to the library, very self conscious of her footsteps echoing in the stillness. The sun shone through the leaded glass windows; casting the corridor in stripes of light and shadow, dust floating in the air.

The library was much the same as it had been when she was a student, except Madam Pince no longer ruled over her little empire. She had retired, supposedly to fulfil her ambition to tour the magical sites of the world. The new librarian was Justin Finch-Fletchley, an ex-Hufflepuff student who had attended Hogwarts at the same time as Hermione. Justin was undertaking the almost impossible task of cataloguing not only the library but also every other book still held in the castle.

He was nowhere to be seen and Hermione found she had the library to herself. The silence in the vast room was unnerving, and she felt she could sense the magic contained in the books. It filled the library like static electricity and she was sure if she listened hard enough, she could hear the voices of past Hogwarts students echoing around the book stacks.

"What are you looking for boy?"

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short."

"All the copies of Hogwarts: A History have been taken out."

"I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory."

"Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?"

"Let's try some simple spell books then."

"Will you shut up for a bit please? I'm trying to concentrate."

She shivered as the memories flooded back and quickly pushed such thoughts to one side. Sometimes it was painful remembering those happy times because it had all been tainted by what had happened later. Voldemort had stripped the joy from so many lives and she was no exception.

It terrified her to think that Voldemort might still win. How could they defeat a person who it seemed impossible to kill? And if the story about Lucius Malfoy was true, the future didn't bare thinking about. The man had so much power already. Add to that Voldemort and the future looked damned.

A fleeting memory surfaced, one she had struggled to keep hidden. She had been at Medi-College when the Aurors had turned up. They had taken any student not considered pureblood in for questioning and Hermione had been amongst those people. She had been held for almost a week. They had questioned her, constantly wanting to know about her relationship with Harry Potter, constantly asking where he was and about his claims that Voldemort had risen again.

Then on the fifth day Lucius Malfoy had questioned her non-stop for hours on end. Malfoy himself, something she had never told anyone. Had Voldemort already taken him over by then? She wondered if she had sensed anything of the malevolence of the Dark Lord. But for all her knowledge of him, she had never actually been near Voldemort so didn't have first-hand experience of the man. The memory of Malfoy's quiet voice on that day still made her shudder with terror and she wondered whether she would ever truly forget.

She, of course, had been lucky. She had gotten away. But what would Malfoy do if he got his hands on Harry?

Well, she wasn't going to let Malfoy get Harry. She had kept him safe for the last three years and she would find a way to deal with the Speculumous curse. And she would get the trigger free even though it was Draco Malfoy.

Of all the people it could have been, why him? She tried to picture Draco in her mind and realised the image was of a 16-year-old rather than as he might look now as her contemporary. She knew he played Quidditch only because Ron had spent days ranting when the Malfoy Corporation had bought the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team. It had gotten worse. Not only was Draco brought in as Seeker, but also the team colours were changed from orange to green and silver. The fact the team won the league in the first season was totally lost on Ron.

But it was more than a Quidditch team that caused the hatred in Ron and the rest of the Weasley family. The deaths of Arthur and Bill Weasley had done that. Death Eaters had caught them and Ron had been trying to rescue them when they were killed. Draco Malfoy might not have performed the actual Avada Kedavra curse, but he had been there and Ron blamed him for doing nothing to stop it.

Hermione threw her bag noisily onto a table, the sound breaking the library's spell, and she rummaged for the parchment with the book's title on it. Not that she needed the paper, the name was burned into her brain: Restricted Access: Keep your Family In and your Enemies Out - the book which Draco claimed contained the binding curse preventing him from leaving the Malfoy estate. He had told Harry there was a copy of the book in the library. It would be interesting to see if he was right.

The restricted section of the library was no longer off limits and she entered without fear of setting off any alarms. The book was there, but she was surprised to find it wasn't one of the musty old tomes but a relatively new edition, first published in 1982. There was no author listed for the book and she wondered who was responsible for the work. Taking the book back to the table, she began working her way through it, looking for anything coming close to the right enchantment.

Two hours later, she had weeded down her original list to four possibilities, each used to keep someone confined by using that person's blood. She read through the likely candidates for what seemed the hundredth time and eventually threw the piece of parchment down in frustration. Short of going to the Malfoy estate, how would she ever be able to narrow it down even further?

"Hermione! Hi!"

She looked up at the owner of the excited voice, her manner completely the opposite.

It was Harry. He stood before her, eyes sparkling green, face flushed, hair windblown and a smile so enormous he looked slightly demented. "I've just flown up. On my Firebolt." He added as if explanation was needed. "I'd forgotten how wonderful it was to fly. I think it's the most fun I've had with my clothes on." He took off his cloak and flopped down onto a chair.

"You..." Hermione wanted to be cross with him, but the look on his face was so endearing it was almost impossible. "Ron let you fly up here? On your own?"

"He doesn't know. When he said something about meeting you here, I was going to come up on the train. Then Ron gave me my broom back and it was such a brilliant day I couldn't resist it."

She looked aghast. "What if you'd had another attack? You could have fallen off and broken your stupid neck."

His expression turned thoughtful, but quickly reverted to the demented smile. "But it was so wonderful," he repeated. "So, how are things going?"

Hermione finally smiled, finding herself infected by his happiness. "Not bad." This was the first time she'd seen Harry since the party and she felt a sense of embarrassment rise up. It was fortunate he was acting so laid back. When Ron had asked her to do Harry's research and for her to meet him at Hogwarts, she had been concerned about how the meeting might go. But for the moment she was just pleased to see Harry again. "Ron told me about the link, that you managed to find out who the trigger is. About Draco Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "Did he tell you about Voldemort?"

She nodded. "Do you believe him?"

The smile had slowly evaporated and the boyish charm replaced by adult concern. "I don't want to. If Draco is telling the truth, it changes everything doesn't it?" He looked at her sadly. "It means I lost Dumbledore for nothing and the last three years have been a lie. I left for a lot of reasons, but one was because I thought everything was okay - that I'd left the world a safer place. Not the case after all."

Hermione fiddled with her quill. She was desperate to hear the whole story of why Harry had fled, but knew this was not the time or the place. "You made a choice, Harry, and the life you've had was just that - your choice. It's not a lie."

"If I'd known about Voldemort I wouldn't have gone. I'd have stayed and carried on the fight."

"Are you happy?"

He looked shocked at the question. "Happy?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Forget Malfoy and Voldemort and the curse. Have you been happy with your life? Emily, the photography, the whole Muggle thing.

He thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, it's been good. Being a Muggle is actually fun and I love the photography. Did you ever see my book?"

She nodded. "Ron got me a copy. Well, I actually got it so he could give it to me, if you see what I mean. He doesn't like Muggle shops. It's very nice."

"I'm supposed to be going to do a shoot in America in a few days." She opened her mouth to argue. "But I've cancelled it. I can't believe I would do that for something magical."

"What about Emily? Do you love her? Does she know?"

"About the magic? No, not yet. Hermione, what would you feel like if someone came up to you and said, 'by the way, I'm a wizard and you could be in great danger'?"

"I would probably think you'd gone mad." She noticed he hadn't answered her question about whether he loved Emily.

Harry ran a finger over a pattern on the table, carved by some former student with their quill. "I did think about packing and leaving her a note."

"That's awful, Harry. You can't do that. That's what you did to me and it really stank and..." Then suddenly it struck her what he was saying. "Are you coming back?" Her voice was very quiet.

"I don't think I ever really went away, Hermione. It feels like I've just been asleep for a very long time and I've woken up again. Are you happy?"

She nodded. "It's been hard. After you went." She looked away at a spot somewhere over his right shoulder. "I know Sirius has told you things. I couldn't believe you just left. I hated you for that."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did." She glared at him, a look full of three years of hurt. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive you."

"Don't say that." He reached out and covered her hand with his own. "I don't think I could bear it if you hated me."

"Hate doesn't begin to sum up what I feel for you, Harry Potter." She turned her hand and took hold of his fingers. "Just don't walk out again." She raised his hand to her lips and briefly kissed it. "If you do, you won't have to worry about Lucius Malfoy because I will hunt you down and kill you myself." Hermione dropped his hand as if its touch suddenly burned her. "I..." She could feel herself blushing. "We should get on with this curse." She cleared her throat and pushed the sheet of parchment towards him.

Harry rubbed his hand where she had kissed him. "Hermione, I don't want you to think..."

"Harry, don't, please."

He carried on regardless. "At the party. I didn't mean anything." He closed his eyes, realising just how crass that sounded. "I'd never want to come between you and Ron."

"I love Ron and he loves me."

"I know. I can tell. I'm not asking you to take me back or anything. I just need you to forgive me and be my friend."

The green eyes look pleadingly and she wished he would look away. She resisted the urge to reach out and hug him. "I'll always be your friend, Harry. I never stopped being that even after you went away. But I'm not sure I can forgive you, not just yet anyway."

"Well, that's a start. I'll work on the rest." He leaned forward and picked up the parchment. "So, these are the binding curses?"

Herminie was grateful for the talk to return to something less painful. She finally understood why Ron had been so angry with Harry and part of her could easily have slipped into that same emotion. "I'd expected this to be ancient or dark magic, but this book is only 20 years old. Of course, it is possible the spells in it are actually older and have just been published in a new book. Equally, they might be old and reworded at some point. Old or new, all of them are very complex and there is no indication of counter-curses in the book."

Harry read through the four curses and saw the similarities and the subtle differences in them. "Do you know if these were written by the same person?"

"No. I'll try and reverse-engineer each and see what type of counter-curse might work. It'll be more than a Finite Incantatem though."

"How long?"

"How long is a piece of string? We might never work it out. I don't even know which of these four curses it is, so I could spend weeks working on the wrong one. It might not even be one of these. One way of finding out would be to go to the Malfoy estate and see if we can predict the spell for ourselves."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Ron and Sirius have told me about Neville Longbottom. That he's an Auror now."

"He's brilliant."

"Do you think he might be willing to go to the estate and have a look?" He saw an expression of concern on her face. "I don't mean actually to enter the estate or try and break the curse, but if he can pick it up, it might give you an idea which one it is."

"Well, he's here in the castle, so you can ask him yourself."

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

Friday 14th September 2001

"Will he be much longer?"

The stern looking secretary glanced up and gave a strange straight-mouthed smile before returning to her work. She didn't comment, as she hadn't on the last three occasions Sirius Black had asked the same question.

Remus Lupin got to his feet and crossed to the coffee percolator. He refilled his cup and gestured with the jug at Sirius. "Top up?"

"No. If I drink any more, I'll never sleep again."

Returning to his seat next to his friend, Remus sipped at the coffee. It had taken on that thick bitter taste from having been made hours before. He grimaced and leaned towards Sirius. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We could just up and leave right now."

"I have to know if what Harry said is true," he spoke sotto voce, careful that the secretary could not overhear. "If he is Voldemort then everything changes."

"If he is, I hope you don't push things too far. I don't want to end up scraping you off the walls." He paused thoughtfully. "And the ceiling. Oh, and let's not forget the carpet." His quiet voice was tinged with sarcasm.

"I won't." Sirius tossed the magazine he had been reading back onto the table. "I've had enough of this." He got to his feet, strode across the office and leaned forward across the desk. "Listen, my dear lady, I am the Deputy Minister. I do not sit and wait." She looked at him. "We are going in ready or not."

The eye-to-eye contact continued for several seconds as each tried to out-stare the other. It was a draw and the woman finally responded simply. "You can go in now, Mr Black."

Sirius glared harder, but resisted the temptation to inflict some nasty curse on her. "Thanks for nothing." He pushed off the desk and crossed to the large oak double doors, which opened automatically as he approached. "Remus," he said.

In the palatial office, the pair came to a halt before the surprisingly simple desk - all part of the Minister of Magic's outward persona of simple service to the Wizarding community. The fact the desk cost more than most people earned in a month was not common knowledge. Simplicity costs almost as much as ostentation, Sirius pondered.

"Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy carried on reading the parchment on the desk before him. He signed it, carefully rolled it up and sealed it closed with a blob of wax and a tap of his wand. "Sirius. What a pleasant surprise." He cast a glance at Lupin and looked like there was a nasty smell under his nose. "I see you've brought a friend."

"I think you know Remus Lupin."

"We've met. Have a seat." Sirius sat, his long legs stretched before him. "Tea? Coffee?"

"No. I've had plenty while I've been waiting."

Remus had to fetch a chair from the other side of the room. He deliberately placed it to the side of the desk so that Lucius couldn't look at both his visitors at the same time.

If Lucius was concerned about the manoeuvre, he didn't show it. He sat back against the black dragon hide of his chair (simple but tasteful), and steepled his fingers before him. Deliberately ignoring Lupin, he directed his comments at Sirius. "So, what can I do for you? If this is to be another conversation about the Auror College, you already have my answer."

Remus remained silent, not rising to the other man's comments. He was with Sirius for one reason only - to see if he could perceive any presence of Voldemort. The man looked like the Malfoy he knew, but they had no idea when Voldemort might have taken over Malfoy. He could have been there for so long that people would be completely at ease with the Dark Lord in his new form.

"I am planning to raise the matter again, Lucius. In fact I've already tabled a question about it for the next Council meeting. You will see it on the agenda when it is issued. The College is a fine old institution which has served the Wizarding community for centuries."

"It was riddled with corruption and non-purebloods." He looked pointedly at Remus. "I know you are running a training centre at Hogwarts, Lupin. I will have it closed down."

Remus quietly met the other's gaze. "I am running a private club which has all the necessary licences, Minister. We are doing nothing illegal." Grey eyes flared at him and Remus thought he saw a flicker of red deep inside them.

"We will see. Sirius, I am a busy man."

"Then I won't beat about the bush. I want to talk to you about my godson."

"Oh? What has Harry Potter been up to now?" He sneered, Harry's name said with contempt.

"Someone is threatening him, Lucius, and I am not very happy about it." Sirius met the man's gaze without blinking. He inwardly shivered at the thought of whom he might be facing off with now. But his years in Azkaban had hardened him against most things and nothing this man could do would come even close to what he had suffered in that prison.

"What does this have to do with me?"

Sirius reached into his robes and took out Harry's photograph of Isabel/Narcissa. He rose and carefully laid it on the desk in front of Lucius. "I think you are involved."

Lucius looked at the photograph and Remus saw his jaw tighten imperceptibly. "And this is supposed to be?"

"You wife poisoned him and I don't think she decided to do that all by herself. This has 'Lucius Malfoy' stamped all over it."

He looked up at Sirius, who had remained standing with his hands resting lightly on the desk. "Did you surmise this all from a dodgy double-exposed photograph that a child could fake?"

"I know what Harry had told me and I'm putting you on notice. If anything happens to him, I will hold you personally responsible."

"Are you threatening me, Sirius?"

"Yes, Lucius, I am. I'm not your son who you can beat into submission and torture to your heart's content. Other people might be scared of you, but I remember what you were like at Hogwarts. You might be a few years older than me, but you were always a simpering Slytherin idiot."

Lucius just smiled. "And you were a crass Gryffindor who was a pretentious moron. Strutting around like you owned the place. Like you still do now. It's a shame you didn't learn humility in Azkaban." He came to his feet. "Don't push me, Black. And my son is my own concern."

"Stay away from Harry." Sirius straightened, matching the other's stance, his voice dark.

"If I wanted to do something to him, then there is nothing you could do to stop me." His voice had become very quiet.

"Just try me." Sirius moved forward threateningly.

"Fool." Lucius' hand shot out, pointing directly at Sirius' heart. "Crucio."

Sirius dropped to the floor like a stone.

Remus reached for his wand as he came to his feet.

"Don't!" Lucius now had a wand in his hand. "Just give me a reason, werewolf, and I will kill you here and now. No one will miss you."

Remus held up his hands.

"When he wakes up, tell him to keep out of my way. Next time I will not be so magnanimous." With that he strode across the room, disapparating as he walked.

Even as Malfoy disappeared, Remus quickly drew his wand. "Finite Incantatem." He dropped to his friend's side. "Sirius?"

"Bugger that hurt." Sirius hissed as he pulled out the talisman hanging round his neck. Remus quickly removed the chain and dropped the talisman to the floor. It was red hot and burned his fingertips. "At least it worked."

"You are an exceedingly lucky man. If the curse had missed the talisman, you'd still be writhing around the floor in agony. He could have killed you."

"Always a risk." He looked down at his chest where a burn from the talisman covered his heart. "I knew you could do it." He hauled himself up to a chair. "But was my pain worth it?"

Remus began to treat the burn. When Sirius had turned up with his preposterous plan, he had refused to be any part of it. Sirius had wanted to goad Malfoy in the hope Remus might be able to sense Voldemort's presence in the man. Of course, Remus had reminded him that goading the possible Dark Lord might just lead to a very painful confrontation at best and death at worst. But Sirius was adamant and finally Remus had come up with the idea of the protection talisman. Great idea, but only effective if it came between the curse and the man. If Malfoy had aimed his curse a little higher or lower, then Sirius would have felt its full force. "Malfoy is definitely possessed. I can't say for sure it's Voldemort, but he's extremely powerful. He didn't need a wand to curse you. And his reaction to your comment about Harry made it clear to me he's involved up to his nasty blond head."

"What about the comment about Draco?"

"Didn't like that either. Don't you think that was pushing it a bit? If he thinks Draco has been in touch with Harry, it might push Lucius over the edge. He could kill Draco."

"Then everything would be fine. No trigger - no target."

"Sirius," Remus kept his voice quiet and very measured. "If Malfoy uses a curse to kill Draco then Harry will die too."

"Then we'd better hope he does it the old fashioned Muggle way." Sirius moved his arm, trying to ease the pain radiating from his shoulder. He noted the look on Remus' face - shock at his cold-heartedness. Sirius chose to ignore it. "Well, at least now we know."

Remus thought to follow through on the comment, but decided not to. To argue would not help the current situation. "And how, Padfoot, does that help us deal with anything?"

"Give me time, Moony and I'll come up with a plan."

"Hmm. I just hope it's better than this one."

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

Voldemort apparated into the main entrance of the Malfoy Manor and continued walking without breaking his stride. Servants scurried out of his path as he strode down the corridors, his robes billowing about him. Finally, he reached his study, opened the door and slammed it behind him with a satisfying crash that made the ornate crystal chandelier rattle.

He stood stock still in the middle of the room, the only movement being his hands as they clenched and unclenched spasmodically. A vase on the other side of the room suddenly shattered as his pent-up anger found a focus. Water and flowers cascaded to the floor, the flowers ending up as nothing but ash as he set them aflame.

Forcing himself to become calm, Voldemort crossed to one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out at the gardens and woodlands beyond the building. He had been stupid. How could he, the most powerful wizard in the country, allow Black to goad him into such a stupid confrontation? Black was a problem at the best of times, but now he had made it clear what his intentions were. Black knew too much and he couldn't be allowed to ruin preparations, not now when the time was so close.

Voldemort leaned a hand against the window and looked at his fingers spread against the glass. This body, even with all its flaws and hidden memories, still gave him great pleasure. It had been his choice to take it. His choice to leave the snake-like body formed during his resurrection. That ... thing ... created by Pettigrew's inept version of the ritual Voldemort had taught him, had been fine to begin with, when he only had to deal with his own loyal followers. But he had needed something more ... pleasing for the general populace. Who would follow someone who looked like a monster?

It had taken him some time to realise it would take more than bluster and throwing about deadly curses to achieve what he wanted - the total subjugation of the Wizarding community to his will. He had tried before many years ago to use terror to achieve his aims. It had worked to some extent, but to hold people with just terror over any length of time was doomed to failure.

That was why his return to power had not been with a loud crash and fire and brimstone as the first time. Now he was slowly bending them to his will. Slowly and carefully making everyone obedient and compliant to him. They wanted him in control, saw him as their saviour and the whole experience had been much more pleasurable. Of course, there were always the few who didn't agree. Such as that small band of no-hopers led by Sirius Black and, by the sounds of it, Harry Potter.

Dictators, even benevolent dictators, needed to be photogenic. His resurrected body had been far from suitable so he had decided to take someone else's. Of course he would have preferred one similar to his original, destroyed during that abortive attack on the baby Potter. He remembered with pleasure his tall form, lithe and strong with black curly hair and dark brown eyes. To find a similar vessel would have been perfect.

Then he found Lucius Malfoy, who had the added bonus of already being part of the ruling elite. Rich and powerful, Malfoy had been just the right material. And with his blond hair and piercing grey eyes, he was a dream before the cameras. Voldemort knew he would possess that body. He took it, making Malfoy believe it was his choice and that he was doing his master a great service.

Of course, Voldemort had told the boy his father was trapped with Dumbledore, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Albus Dumbledore was the one person capable of defeating him. The body used in his trap had been nothing but an animated husk used to fool Dumbledore and to lead him to his doom. Malfoy had never left his body. He was here, with him. Sometime, he could sense Malfoy's presence. Sometimes he could feel him struggling to get out. But Malfoy was nothing in the greater scheme of things.

He was aware of the other's memories. At first he had needed them to help him play the part, but now he had carved out a new life for Lucius Malfoy and he didn't need the original owner any more. He smiled. One of the benefits of the ceremony he planned for Halloween was that he would finally get rid of the remains of Malfoy for good.

This body, this life, was his by right and he, Voldemort, would use it to fulfil his deepest desires.

But Malfoy had almost ruined everything today. It had been Malfoy's anger that had forced him to strike down Black in such a pointless display of power. Malfoy, who had come so close to killing Lupin. All of his plans come close to ruin by a few simple stupid mistakes. He would not let it happen again.

He wondered how much Black really knew. It was clear he knew of the Speculumous curse, but was Black aware of the full nature of the curse? As for Potter, he had hoped to keep Harry separate from his old friends and the additional strength their protection would give him. But he wasn't overly concerned. Potter was already feeling the effects of the curse. He would become weaker and weaker over the coming weeks. By the time of the ceremony Potter would be unable to defend himself and his capitulation would be so very easy.

He was more concerned about Draco. Did Black's comments about the boy mean he knew Draco to be the trigger? Voldemort knew he needed to keep the boy on his side. If Draco turned, no longer stayed faithful to him, the ceremony might not take place. It was unfortunate, but he would have to alter his strategy a little to make sure Black didn't spoil things. As for Draco, he would have to move his plans forward there as well.

"Master." Voldemort glanced towards the voice. Narcissa was standing by the now open door. He beckoned her over and she was quickly at his side, kissing his hand.

"Is everything all right, my lord?"

Voldemort found a smile creep across his face as he remembered how acquiescent the woman was with him and how resistant she has been with Malfoy. Memories never lie. Narcissa had been such a willing partner both in and out of the bedroom. It would be a shame if he ever had to get rid of her.

"Do not call me master or lord. Someone might hear you. I am Lucius and no one must think otherwise." She nodded and leaned into him. "Someone may know of my plans. It is important your son is kept here. On no account must he be allowed to leave the building. Is that understood?" He tipped her face up to look at him.

"He always was a strong-willed boy."

"I don't care. Confine him to his rooms. If I loose him, I loose Potter again." He leaned down and kissed her hard, savouring the physical sensations that he had been deprived of for 18 years. Narcissa responded, biting his lip and drawing blood, the look in her eyes daring this powerful wizard to chastise her. "You like to take chances don't you, my little flower. One day, you might push me too far."

"I am..." she ran a finger across his lips, carrying on down the line of his neck to the silver clasp on his robe. "My master's very willing servant." The robe fell in a heap at his feet.

"I want to speak to your son, but that can wait." He pushed her to the floor and followed her down.

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

Two floors up, Draco Malfoy was sitting on the windowsill, one leg dangling out of the window, and the other bent at the knee. His gaze moved absently from the two gardeners busy with autumn pruning to the estate boundary where, in his mind, he could imagine the shimmering of the binding spells preventing him from leaving.

Of course, he had tried to leave; had to prove to himself Voldemort's barrier did actually exist. It was most definitely there and without a wand he stood no chance of getting past it.

Draco was starting to question his own sanity these days. The idea that his mother was involved with his torture was almost too much to bear. He had wanted to ask her why, but she was deliberately ignoring him these days. He also wondered whether he had actually dreamed that Harry Potter had been there in his safe place, on the cloud overlooking the estate. The cloud had been created out of childhood terror - a place where he could retreat; where he could hide from and cope with the pain. Mental, physical and emotional. As a child, he had always believed the place was real - as real as the one he lived in every day of his life. But now, as an adult, he realised it was probably a mental projection. But then, with magic, who could tell where reality ended and fantasy began.

Until Voldemort had cursed him, the cloud had been HIS place and his alone. Then another person had been there. He hadn't made any connection until that awful night when Voldemort had used this twisted form of the Cruciatus curse and broken his body. To be told afterwards that he was being tortured to get at Harry Potter had been a real kick in the teeth.

Harry Potter! Draco kicked a heel at the wall. Even now, after all these years, Potter still dogged his footsteps, causing him problems. What was it Voldemort had told him on his birthday? That he was linked with Potter? Draco's hand traced the lightning bold scar at his throat put there by the Dark Lord. Sometimes he would go for hours without thinking about the scar - days even. Then he would see it in the mirror and the hopelessness of the situation would become crashing reality again. He would remember he was now a prisoner in his own home, cut off from everything and with no idea of what was going on in the outside world.

He wondered how badly Potter felt the curses. As much as he did? Less? More? Once it would have given him some pleasure to know Potter was suffering as he was, but now things felt different. A part of him blamed Potter for his own pain - after all if it weren't for the Dark Lord's obsession with Potter, Draco would be safely carrying on with his life. But there was something else going on now, a connection through the shared pain, and Draco wasn't sure he liked it very much.

He remembered the last visit to the cloud. The cloud had been different - the colour and texture all wrong - and he had been himself, rather than a child. More importantly, nothing terrible had been happening to him at the time. It was only after Potter disappeared that the pain had started. He winced slightly, aware of his bruised ribs from the toe of Voldemort's boot.

Could that golden cloud have actually been Harry Potter's secret place? And was he, Draco, somehow called to it by the connection between them? He sighed. Or perhaps it was all a dream and no on had promised to rescue him. What was it Potter had said a week ago? I will get you out of here. He might not like Potter, but the one thing he remembered from school was that Potter always kept his promises. Perhaps his promises didn't count when they were made to a Malfoy.

"I trust you are not thinking of jumping."

Draco nearly did fall out of the window at the intruding voice.

A vice-like grip clamped around his arm, pulling him back. It was Voldemort.

"Don't you ever knock?" That was not exactly the right words to say to the Dark Lord, but Draco was beyond caring. What could he do to hurt him any more? He swung his leg back over the sill and stood. "What is it to be this time? Flood? Fire? Pestilence? Or just another good kicking?" He strode past the man masquerading as his father and waited for the axe to fall.

Nothing happened.

He got as far as the bed, his body almost rigid with fear.

Still nothing.

Draco turned, a hand on the footboard of the bed to steady him. "What do you want from me now?"

"To talk."

It has been the last thing Draco had expected. "Talk?"

Voldemort moved over to the settee and, pointing at a chair, he sat down. "I want to explain."

Draco couldn't decide what scared him more. The quiet threatening voice Voldemort had used the night he smashed the Vodka bottle, or this equally quiet voice oozing charm and anxiety. The man actually sounded concerned and caring; the type of person you'd ask to baby-sit or take your old granny to her day centre. His father had a similar voice that he used after punishing Draco. It went with his tirade of "I don't want to do this" and "You make me punish you". It never sounded like he meant it, yet when Voldemort used the same tone, it actually did sound sincere.

"Please sit down."

That was just too much. Please? Voldemort was saying 'please'. He walked very slowly to the chair and perched on the edge, his whole body ready to cut and run if necessary. "Explain?"

"You are important, Draco. If my plans when you were a baby had gone correctly, you would have grown up with me. I would have been your father and your teacher. Your biological father did not want you. He didn't understand what your future was to be and I was no longer there to take over that responsibility."

"You've spent the last six weeks torturing me." Voldemort looked at him, and Draco thought he saw something flash deep in the eyes. Or was the red glint a reflection of the sunlight?

"When I realised the ritual with Harry Potter could still take place, I needed to re-establish the link between you and Potter that I had created when you and he were born. But I also needed to weaken him. I knew there would be only one opportunity to get to Potter. I had no option but to use you as the trigger for the mirroring spell." He pointed a hand at the boy and saw him flinch away. "I can take away the pain and the memories."

Draco saw the red glint again. The pain and memories of the attacks, both real and imaginary, were the only things keeping his sanity in check at the moment. "No, I'll keep that for the moment."

"Very well. Remember it is your choice. Your father might not have wanted you, but I do know he has taught you well. Explained why pureblood lines in the Wizarding community are so important. You understand how inter-breeding with Mudbloods and Muggles is diluting us. As we become less pure, our magic falters and our powers diminish. If we allow this to carry on, we will be no more than Muggles in a very few generations."

"But you're not pureblood."

Voldemort's face became like thunder and Draco thought he could feel angry magic crackle around him. "And it has taken someone whose father was a Muggle to realise the danger the Wizarding community is in." His gaze bore into Draco and he waited until the younger man looked away. "I am allowing you a certain latitude here, Draco, but do not presume you are safe from my anger. Remember who you are talking to."

"Sorry, Master." Draco was shocked at his response. The word had come unbidden, without thinking and he struggled to mentally distance him from the concept that this person was his master.

"Good. You do well to remember that. Potter has powers he is so far unaware of. Without Dumbledore to teach him, he has no way of knowing how to use them. I intend to use them, but they have to be removed from him, as they should have been when he was a baby. Draco, imagine how you will feel being able to wield his power. During the Halloween ceremony these powers will revert to you, and together we will turn the Wizarding and Muggle worlds upside down."

"But you are going to take those powers for yourself. What will happen to me?"

"Most will revert to me, but you will still retain some. If you do as I say. If you remember where your life is supposed to lead. Draco, I know Potter has been in touch with you. He is lying. He is using you and will throw you aside when he has finished with you. He will destroy everything you need and love. Everything you have lived for. Follow me and I will teach you how to use your power. We will rule - father and son - and no one will be able to stop us." Voldemort came to his feet and crossed to Draco's side. This time Draco didn't flinch away. He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, fingers brushing along his collarbone to the scar. "Don't let me down. Don't let your people down. Don't let people like Potter corrupt you."

Dark magic flowed freely from Voldemort's hand, seeping through the skin-to-skin contact. Draco gasped as it surged through him, leaving him light-headed, almost drunk. He looked up at Voldemort and found himself mesmerised by the man. He felt the Dark Lord's dominating strength saturate his being. It reached deep within his subconscious and ignited long forgotten memories. History. Purity of race. The Ancestral line. Family. It touched his fears and made him forget who had actually caused all his pain. In place of that pain it left only a fear of Harry Potter, his arch nemesis. A fear that Potter would kill Voldemort and that Draco had to protect his lord and master.

Slowly, Draco slid from the chair and onto his knees. "I won't let you down, Father."

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

Saturday 15th September 2001

Harry had just finished shaving when he thought he heard the screams. He stood for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror, and then the scream came again. He fumbled automatically for his glasses and ran.

Scrambling onto the rail of the spiral staircase, he slid down to the lounge much quicker than taking the stairs. He flew off the end and staggered a few steps over the wooden floor. The screams came from the kitchen and he raced across the room. "Emily!"

He had expected to find the kitchen full of Death Eaters. Instead he found Emily standing in the middle of the room, her hands protecting her head. "Emily." He shot towards her.

"There's a bird," she shrieked.

"What?"

"A bird!" A hand pointed upwards. A large white owl was sitting on the rafters. It swooped back down, just missing Emily's head. She squeaked, ducking into Harry's arms, and he pulled her protectively to his bare chest. As the bird settled on the table, he pushed Emily towards the door he had just come through.

Once in the lounge, he stood with her for a moment, pushing her hair from her face. "Are you okay?"

"It just flew in and I..." She was waving a hand in the direction of the open kitchen window. "It wouldn't leave me alone." Through the open door she stared at the bird, which seemed to be staring back at her. "I think it hates me."

"Don't be silly." Harry held her close, shooting daggers at the snowy owl. "Now, I'm going to get it out of the kitchen. You stay here." She nodded and finally let him go.

Harry returned to the kitchen and closed the door behind him. The owl unfurled her wings and flew to his outstretched arm, her claws hardly touching his bare skin. "Hedwig," he whispered. "What are you doing here?" The owl hooted a greeting and indicated a message tied to her leg. "Just don't change into a woman, not here." He took the note and let Hedwig jump back onto the table. "Owls, I can explain, but a woman? No."

"Oh? Why not?"

He didn't see the change, but one moment there had been an owl on the table, the next a woman was sitting in her place. Dressed in long white robes, she set on the edge of the table, swinging her legs. "Hello, Harry," she whispered.

Harry's eyes opened wide and he stared worriedly between the woman and the kitchen door. "Oh no." His hand went to his mouth and he waved at her, indicating she should be quiet. "What are you doing here?" he whispered

She smiled. "Delivering a message." She pointed to the role of parchment in his hand while studying his face. There were dark marks under his eyes and he looked very tired. She dropped to the floor and crossed to his side. "Are you all right?" Her hand brushed his face with an anxious touch, concern in her voice.

"I'm not sleeping well." Harry took a deep breath. "Did you have to scare Emily?"

"Well, give me a few little pleasures." She continued studying him. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Harry? Have you got rid of it?" Emily's voice shouted through the door.

"Not yet!" He turned back to the woman and couldn't hide his disappointment at finding an owl in her place. "Oh." The owl looked up at him, her head to one side and hooted quietly at the parchment. "Okay." He quickly unrolled it and read the single line: Harry, we need to talk. I'm coming over later today. Sirius

"Oh, no." Sirius coming here? He had been meaning to talk to Emily, to tell her everything, but somehow the right moment hadn't occurred. Perhaps he could find an excuse to go to Winchester, but Emily would probably want to come with him. Then he remembered. Girls Night Out! Or, in this case, Girls Weekend. How could he have forgotten that Emily, Candice and some their other girl friends where having a weekend at a health spa for Candice's birthday. She would be gone until late the next day. He heaved a sigh of relief and found a pen. The replay was as short as the original message. Sirius, please make it late afternoon. Harry

Harry turned to the owl. "Will you to take this back to Sirius?" Hedwig pecked affectionately at his finger, then let him tie the note back to her leg. "Come and see me later." He ruffled the owl's feathers. She stretched her wings and flew silently from the room.

He strode to the window and watched as Hedwig flew into the air and disappeared over the trees. Well, if nothing else, at least that had finally proved to him Hedwig was, indeed, an Animagus.

He walked back to the door and opened it. "It's okay, love, the owl's gone."

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

It was early evening when Sirius apparated into the garden of the lighthouse. The sun was already low in the sky and there was a slight chill to the air. It had been three years since he had last been here.

Back then, he had been searching for his godson and had found him sitting out on the cliff. The boy had been completely unaware of Sirius' presence and Sirius had left, distraught, wondering what had taken place in the crystal cave to affect Harry so very deeply.

It was painful to be back here for other reasons too. The location reminded him of Godric's Hollow, the last place he had seen James and Lily Potter alive. Did Harry realise he had chosen somewhere very similar to his parents' secret place where they had hoped to remain hidden from Voldemort? He wondered how his friends must feel now, to know two decades later that their son was still struggling against their murderer.

He shivered despite his robes and set about finding his godson. He found him out on the cliff; in almost the same place Harry had been those three years previous.

"Harry."

The young man turned and waved, but didn't get up. Sirius dropped down to the grass beside him and took Harry in a hug. They sat there, in silence for several minutes. Finally Sirius pulled away.

"Sorry, I should have been waiting at the house. I just get drawn out here sometimes."

Sirius made himself comfortable. "Hedwig told me where you were." As if she had been waiting for Sirius to mention her, the owl swooped out of the sky and landed beside Harry's knee, where she settled comfortably.

Harry stretched out a hand and Hedwig gave it a gentle nip. Did Sirius, an Animagus himself, know of the owl's other identity? For the first time he wondered what the woman's real name was. He had given the owl the name 'Hedwig', but she must have a proper name. Sirius' Animagus creature was a dog called Padfoot, while his father James used to transform in to a stag known as Prongs.

"What's it like, Sirius, being an Animagus?"

Sirius looked surprised at the question. He thought for moment, listening to the sound of the sea on the cliffs below. "I don't know. I've been one for over half my life and I don't remember what it's like not to be one. Back at the beginning, when we first found out about Remus being a werewolf, I can remember how hard the magic was. Especially as we were all learning it from books and without a teacher." He smiled at the memory. "I was all for going straight into it, but your dad was a bit more sensible fortunately. He realised we needed to know how to transform back and insisted each of us knew the counter-spells so that if we made a mistake or couldn't transform someone else could change us."

"But what's it like actually being Padfoot?"

The smile grew. "Freedom, heightened awareness, speed, lots of things. But it's not the same now. Not without the others. James and Peter and Remus. Because of Severus' potions, Remus doesn't have to go through the Change each full moon, so I don't even have the excuse of being with him any more." Sirius no longer smiled, but looked thoughtful as he stared into the distance. "Sometimes I miss that companionship. It was very special."

"When you're Padfoot, do you remember things as if you were human?"

"Mmm," Sirius nodded. "Yes. That's what is different between transfiguring into an animal and being an Animagus. If I were transfigured into a dog, I wouldn't have any human awareness. But if I were Padfoot now, I'd hear what you were saying and be aware of what's going on. Of course, I couldn't talk to you, because I'd be a dog, but I'd be able to think things through as if I were human even in that form."

"Did you ever feel trapped?"

"No, because when I'm a dog, I'm just that. My human body isn't even in my thoughts. As Padfoot, I just 'am'."

Harry looked down at Hedwig and could have sworn the owl was smiling. Ever since the party he had been wondering how much Hedwig, the woman, remembered of her life as Hedwig, the owl. She had spent seven years of her life living with Harry either at Hogwarts or at Privet Drive, sharing his room, watching him grow up. Suddenly he felt very embarrassed at the thought of this beautiful woman being with him while he ... well, did boy things.

He looked away from the owl, feeling colour rising in his face. "Did you..." His voice broke. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Would you know if someone was an Animagus?"

Sirius smiled knowingly. "Sometimes." He looked at Hedwig. "Come on, put the boy out of his misery."

By the time Harry looked from Sirius back to where the owl had been sitting, the woman was there. She was in the same white robes she had worn earlier, but now her hair hung in braids down her back. Her right hand rested lightly on Harry's right leg, just above his knee.

Harry swallowed and glanced sideways at his godfather. "You knew? For how long?"

"Oh, at least seven years. After I escaped from Azkaban and went on the run. You started sending me messages, remember."

"I was at Hogwarts with him," Hedwig joined in. "But clearly didn't make much of an impression." She smiled at Sirius. "I've been an Animagus all my life, Harry, even before Hogwarts. Of course, I didn't realise what was happening when I was a child and can remember thinking it was all a dream. It didn't help that my family were Muggles either. When I got to school, I found out that there were other people who could transform, but I could do it without spells or a wand. I decided not to tell anyone, not even the Marauders who I knew were all illegal Animagi."

Sirius was frowning; clearly this story was new to him. "You've never told me this before."

"All women need their little secrets, Sirius. Where would the fun be if I told you everything at once?" She turned back to Harry. "Don't ask me how, I knew Sirius didn't betray your parents. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do to help him ... to prove his innocence." Her hand left Harry's leg and she pushed a lock of hair from her face. "I was ... ill ... for a long time after Lily and James died and when I was well enough to return to life again, Sirius was in Azkaban and you were living with Petunia and Vernon. Professor Dumbledore needed to keep you safe you see, so he used a Cognatus charm. It works a little like the Fidelius, but in this case, if you are with a blood relative then your enemies just wouldn't be able to find you. That was why he sent you to Petunia's. I'm sorry your life was so miserable with them."

Harry found himself shrugging. "It's okay. I didn't know any different, so I guess I just got on with it. But how do you know so much about my parents and what happened to me? Did you know them at school?"

"Oh, I think everyone knew James."

"Too right," Sirius interjected. "James was Quidditch captain and Head boy. Everyone either wanted to be his friend or to shag him."

"Sirius!" Hedwig looked shocked and cuffed his arm with her hand. "Behave."

"It's true. But it was Lily who finally got him."

Harry enjoyed the banter. People never seemed to want to talk about his parents when he was at school. It was almost as if they thought he might get upset. So to hear these few titbits now was wonderful. He bent his legs and hugged his knees, "Why did you decide to keep an eye on me?"

"Well, it just happened I guess. After I'd been ill, I realised I had the chance to make amends for what had happened to Lily and James. I would occasionally come over to Privet Drive to check up on you, and managed to help Sirius in prison."

"Not that I was in any fit state to appreciate those visits."

"Then you finally got your letter about Hogwarts and I found out Hagrid was taking you to Diagon Alley. I was able to influence him into buying you an owl."

"But I chose you."

"No one ever chooses their own pet, Harry. Like your wand, the pet chooses you. The same way Crookshanks picked Hermione."

"Did Professor Dumbledore know about you being an Animagus?"

"Oh, I expect so. Though he never spoke to me about it even when I was back at school. I'm not registered, you see, so I could have gotten into trouble if he had. I just wanted to help make things easier for you. Such as making sure your friends didn't forget your birthday when you were with those dreadful people. That awful summer when Vernon locked me in the cage wasn't much fun, believe me." She shifted forward and sat between the two men.

"What is your real name?"

"Hedwig is fine."

"But there must be another. I gave you that one."

"Did you? Are you sure?" Golden and green eyes locked for a moment, leaving Harry feeling warm and safe. The feeling remained as Hedwig looked away to Sirius. "We should get down to business. Time is running out."

"Yes," Sirius nodded and wondered whether to tell Harry what had taken place in Lucius' office. He decided not to. The boy already had enough to worry about. "I heard from Hermione this morning about the binding curses."

"Has she managed to narrow things down?" Harry noted that Sirius was looking stern.

"Yes." He retrieved a parchment from within his robes and handed it to Harry. "But I don't approve of her methods. She went to the Malfoy estate with Neville Longbottom."

"No! What on earth was she thinking of? I asked Neville to go, but I didn't think Hermione would go with him."

"You asked Neville?" Sirius looked skyward wondering how he ever managed to cope with all these children. "If I'd know, I would have stopped both of them, believe me. Fortunately they were sensible enough not to try and get onto estate land. According to Hermione's instructions, the counter-curse will only work from inside the grounds. We need to get the instructions to Draco so he can remove the spells himself."

Harry unrolled the parchment and glanced down at the neat handwriting. He was reminded of the book Hermione had given him for his birthday and realised he hadn't looked at it since. "I'll take it."

Sirius started to speak, but Hedwig held up a hand. "Harry, you can't. You know that."

Harry paused in thought for a moment. "Look, I know you haven't got any time for Draco, but I need to tell you something. Do you remember when Snape was betrayed and we went into the Slytherin School to get him out?" Sirius nodded. "I've never told anyone, but Draco saved my life. I owe him a life debt."

"Don't be silly." Sirius looked angry.

"It's not silly. Professor Dumbledore once told me that if another wizard saves your life, a bond is created by deep magic. You know I'm telling the truth."

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone about this before?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. At the time it was between Draco and myself. I didn't want anyone to know. Then, I forgot all about it until Ron's connection thing. This is why I have to get Draco out and why I am going to get this to him." He waved the parchment.

Sirius wanted to argue the point, but knew he couldn't. Life debts were not something wizards took lightly and it put a whole new perspective on things. If Harry really was telling the truth, and he had no reason to doubt him, then it made the current state of affairs even graver.

Hedwig saw the look on Sirius' face and then turned to Harry. She raised a hand to his face. "If you go to the estate, Lucius Malfoy will never let you leave. I will take the note for you."

"That's too dangerous," Harry protested.

"The Malfoy traps will not work against an owl."

Harry looked at Sirius who, though still angry at Harry's latest revelation, was nodding in agreement. The two had obviously already discussed what would happen. "I would go, but as Padfoot, but I would have to cross estate grounds - not a good idea."

"Draco doesn't have a wand. I don't think he can do this without one."

"He could use your wand," Sirius suggested. "I know it's a very special wand, Harry, and it will be able to help him with the spell casting."

Harry held out his hand and the wand appeared in it. "I was going to talk to you about it. It does things I don't understand. I'm not sure it will go with someone else."

"It will if you tell it to."

Harry looked down at the Holly stick. It vibrated gently in his hand and he considered for a moment whether he really could communicate with it by thought alone. "Okay, take it to him." Instantly, the wand left his fingers and Hedwig caught it in her free hand. For a second Harry felt naked without it, it had been his constant companion since Snape had given it back to him. "I should write Draco a note, explain what's happening."

Sirius got to his feet. The sun had almost set now, and a red wash touched the clouds. "Why don't we go in?" He held out a hand to Hedwig who took it and came gracefully to her feet.

The trio set off towards the lighthouse. Hedwig walked between the two men, her arms around their waists. Sirius looked down at her and slid his own arm across her shoulders. She had become very special to him - this woman who had always been there at his darkest moments. But now he realised he knew nothing about her or her past. How could he not remember her from Hogwarts? As they walked, Sirius wondered, not for the first time, just what powers Hedwig actually possessed.

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

Sunday 16th September 2001

The snowy owl flew in high over the Malfoy estate. Once over the manor buildings, she glided in big lazy circles, wings outstretched, towards the ground. The second-floor window was open and she swooped into the darkened room, fluttering down to a table. With her night vision, she could make out the figure slumped in a chair, a book still open on his lap. She dropped the small package she was carrying and hopped to the floor where she transformed into her human form.

"Lumos," Hedwig pointed Harry's wand at a lamp. It sprang to life, emitted a soft glow, which illuminated the chair where Draco Malfoy slept. He stirred briefly, the book slipping to the floor with a soft thud. He grabbed absently for the book, but didn't awaken.

Dressed now in dark grey robes, which blended with the room's shadows, Hedwig held the wand before her and systematically searched the room. She was looking for any charms and spells that might tell people there was a visitor in Draco's room. The room bristled with protection and other more sinister magic and she tutted at the amount. The Malfoys gave new meaning to the word 'overkill'. Unsure whether removing the spells might set off alarms elsewhere in the manor, Hedwig instead pushed them carefully back to the walls, creating a safe circle in the room where the spells would not detect her.

Satisfied with her precautions, she turned her attention back to Draco and held the wand over his sleeping form. It almost glowed as it picked up the mesh of spells winding themselves in and around the boy. Some of the magic was as old as Draco, other spells very new. Did he know he was so entangled with both ordinary and dark magic? She wondered what he would be like if they were removed, thus taking away his safety net to the Malfoy power.

A breath caught in her throat as she found the most recent spell, only a couple of days old. It was so new she could still feel the thoughts of the caster. Voldemort. She remembered his aura and the taint that he left on anyone he touched. Remembered how it felt when his curse had touched her all those years ago.

Draco had been telling the truth, the Dark Lord was back.

But what was this latest spell? At first she thought it was an Imperius curse, but it was different. Deeper, linked with some of the older spells hidden in Draco's subconscious. Had the boy ever had a thought that was his own she wondered. Or were all his ideas and ideals marked by his family's attempts at moulding him in to the image they had wanted?

And now Voldemort was using him, just as Draco had been used by almost everyone in his past. But this latest spell was twisting the boy's fears away from his true tormentor and focusing them in a different direction, at someone else. At Harry.

Twiddling the wand in her hand, she walked slowly behind the chair, looking down at the blond head. To remove the spells without permission was not seen as politically correct these days. One should discuss such things, have years of therapy and then remove them one by one with even more therapy. Or so the 'experts' said.

But, what the hell! She knew it was impossible even with her magical abilities to remove all the spells, but she could get rid of as many as possible. It was a shame she couldn't remove the Speculumous curse, but that was just too deeply entrenched for a simple incantation to deal with. As for removing the other spells, it wouldn't change him, but it would give him the chance to know his own mind.

After a moment's hesitation, she touched the wand to the top of Draco's head and whispered "Finite Incantatem Totalus."

A gentle ribbon of light appeared from the end of the wand and slowly spiralled its way down and through Draco's body, its touch soft like a feather. It enveloped him from head-to-toe and suddenly any gentleness dissipated. It tightened, grabbed at the spells and yanked them forcibly from his body.

Draco gasped; suddenly wide-awake and sat bolt upright. "What the..." He fought to catch his breath as he felt like he was being dragged up from some dark, deep place. Eyes wide, he tried to locate the cause of the shock that was currently flooding his body.

"Hello, Draco."

The soft voice came from behind him. He shot from the chair and staggered back, determined to put the table between himself and the voice. It wasn't ... couldn't be ... Voldemort. Couldn't be his mother. And why did he feel like he'd been ripped apart and put back together again? He thought he recalled something similar happening in the past, but the memory was all hazy, all grey.

A woman was standing behind the chair he had fallen asleep on. She leaned on the high back and watched him through eyes that almost glowed in the dim light. Her white hair, which almost matched his colour, cascaded down her back and over the chair.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his voice almost non-existent.

Hedwig smiled, a little surprised that his reaction to her smile seemed to be almost one of panic. "Harry sent me."

"What?"

"Harry? Harry Potter. You know, green eyes, scar, enemy of Voldemort."

"Shh..." Draco waved his hands. "If he hears you..."

"He won't." She waved the wand and a few red and gold sparks fluttered from it. "I've created a safe circle here."

"I..." He blinked, suddenly confused because he felt different. His body tingled as though he'd been given a mild electric shock. He looked down at his hands, turning them over. "What have you done to me?"

"Nothing" Hedwig shrugged innocently. "Well not much anyway."

"Liar." Draco hissed as he leaned forward on the table. "I can feel it. Has Potter sent you to kill me?"

"You certainly are a mixed up kid, Draco. Why would Harry want you dead?"

"We're enemies. We've always been enemies ever since..." He clenched his teeth for a moment. "It would solve things for him wouldn't it. Get me out of the way then he can get at Lord Voldemort. I won't let you do that."

"You asked for his help and Harry promised he would get you out of here."

A look of confusion crossed Draco's face. "I asked?" He didn't remember even talking to Harry. He wasn't aware that Voldemort's last spell, cast when the Dark Lord had touched the scar on his neck, had not only taken away the pain, but had also removed all memories of torture, curses and his contact with Harry. "I haven't..." Hedwig's spell washed over him again and an image condensed in is mind. A golden cloud. Harry sitting next to him. His voice: I will get you out of here. I promise.

Draco looked at the woman again, this time pleading in his eyes. "What have you done to me?"

"I've removed some of the spells which have been used to bind you. You are thinking for yourself for the first time in many years."

"That is ridiculous."

"No, it isn't. Why do you think you feel different? You can sense the change in your consciousness."

"How do I know you haven't cursed me?"

"What good would that do me? If you choose to remain here, then I won't force you to leave." She smiled sweetly, but her tone was darker now. "Of course, that doesn't mean I couldn't force you if I wanted to. Draco, what are you feeling? Right now?"

He watched for a moment, grey eyes intense. Finally he spoke. "Confused."

Hedwig came out from behind the chair and crossed to the table. "Clear thoughts will do that. And yours are clearer now than they have ever been. Others have bound you for so long, forced you to do their bidding and to think it is your own choice. You have forgotten what it is like to be free. Voldemort is using you as he has used everyone he has ever touched."

"No he isn't"

"Then you are a fool." Her voice changed from the soft tone she always spoke to Harry in. It became hard, commanding. "Think, Draco. What has he been doing to you since you found out who he is?"

"Nothing. He cares for me. He wants me to stand with him, at his side. I will not let you hurt him and I will not let your lies take me from my true path. Now, get out of here, or so help me..."

She pointed the wand at his heart. "Or you'll do what?"

Draco turned and headed for the door. "I gave you a choice."

Hedwig moved the wand so that it pointed in front of him. "Obstructus." A field of sparkling stars barred his way. "You will listen to me."

He stood by the barrier and glanced back over his shoulder. "I will not betray him."

"Oh?" Hedwig slowly crossed to his side. "Draco, he has been torturing you and Harry for weeks. He's hidden the pain and memories of it from you by his spells, but you still bear the physical wounds." She tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his trousers. "Look." Around his ribs was the bruising from his recent beating, the marks had begun to turn yellow now, but were still very visible. "How do you think you got these?"

There was a long pause. "I fell down the stairs."

She dragged the shirt off his shoulder, exposing the long red lacerations made by Voldemort's cane. "And I guess these are from the stairs too."

"I ... don't remember."

"He did this to you. Voldemort." She held out the wand to him. "Take it." He looked shocked. "TAKE IT."

Hesitant, Draco reached for the wand, fingers closing round the shaft. Hedwig didn't let go and he felt the power cascade up his arm and into his body. It washed through him, squeezing through Voldemort's blocks, breaking down barriers and opening wounds that he had forgotten. The memory of the beating returned in full, vivid detail, quickly followed by the other horrors that had been inflicted since his birthday.

Hedwig released the wand as Draco slumped to the floor, his head in his hands. "All I ever wanted to do was have an ordinary life. Why couldn't you all have just left me alone?"

"Do you remember?" Hedwig crouched beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded beneath her touch. "He will kill you if you stay."

"No, it's Potter he wants, not me. I'm just the catalyst for all this. When it's over, I walk free."

"No one is ever free from Voldemort's evil. If he doesn't kill you now, he will find an excuse later. Or perhaps when your father's body is no longer of any use, he will take yours in its place."

"I can't do this anymore. I don't know who to believe."

"Then trust the only person you can. Trust yourself. You know what is true for you. Harry told me about your conversations on the cloud. He sent me to help you get away from here. Together you and he can get through this, but apart neither of you will survive."

Draco let out a shuddering breath and leaned forward against his raised knees. "Everything I have ever believed in is a lie isn't it. All my life I've been used. First by my father, now Voldemort. Even Potter."

She gently stroked his hair, holding him in a soothing embrace against her shoulder. "No, not Harry. He doesn't use people. He needs your help as much as you need his. Will you let me help you to get out of here?" She felt him nod against her. "Then we need to get started. I have the counter-curses to remove the binding spells and you need to learn them. You have to be off the estate before sunrise or they won't work." She pushed him to arm's length. "Now, come on. Get up."

He allowed the woman to pull him to his feet and followed her back to the table. She turned her back on him and for a moment he looked down at the wand in his hand. A tiny voice deep in his mind goaded him to hex her, to remember where his true loyalties lie. He shuddered slightly and quickly placed the wand on the table.

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

An hour before sunrise, Lucius Malfoy stood beside his bedroom window and watched the dark figure sprint across the formal gardens. Beside him, the white shape of an owl kept pace.

Voldemort smiled to himself as Draco climbed over the low wall and hitched his small backpack across his shoulders. The wand in the boy's hand gave of a faint light and for a moment he could see Draco's features.

"Go on boy, find your way to freedom." He mused as he folded his arms and leaned against the open window. "Go and find me Harry Potter and bring him back to me."

The owl swooped down and landed on Draco's arm. Voldemort knew who it was.

"And you won't get away from me either. Not this time."

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