The Cloak of Shadows

Malfoy's don't shiver. Malfoy's are the essence of cold. Therefore, they are impervious to it.

Draco repeated this mantra over and over as he huddled on the icy marble floor of his father's basement study. The room was wet and dank, hidden in the bowels of the Manor. Draco knew his father conducted his most private business down here, and the thought made him shudder.

His tete a` tete with Voldemort had been short and anticlimactic, to say the least. He had expected violence, pain, and blazes of green light. Instead, the Dark Lord had made a hasty exit, muttering an enigmatic, "We'll meet again soon." Shortly after, a pudgy, oddly familiar man had come in to escort him to the basement.

Draco snorted. ‘Basement' was being generous. ‘Dungeon' was more accurate, or perhaps ‘torture chamber.' Nonetheless, Draco had followed willingly, playing his role with a panache Lawrence Olivier would have envied.

Hands and feet bound once again, Draco's muscles cried out to be stretched. He wanted to walk around the room, but he knew there was no way the penknife tucked in his trousers would stand a chance against the heavily charmed rope. So he merely sat back and sighed, the familiar scowl playing along his lips. He told himself if he ever got out of there alive, he was going to murder Harry Potter, for causing him to be so damned noble.

Yes, he thought, smiling sardonically, shagging to death seems like a very appropriate demise.

His increasingly lecherous thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the large oak door. Looking up, he found his father and Voldemort entering, followed by a throng of murmuring Death Eaters. It took every inch of his self-control not to spit on his father's filthy - metaphorically speaking - robes.

"Ah, young Master Draco," Voldemort said pleasantly, as though they were greeting one another at one of his mother's society parties. "Your father and I are glad to hear you've finally come to your senses."

Draco sneered, but only slightly.

"I am a forgiving man -" Draco had to choke back a loud guffaw. "And we are happy," Voldemort continued, his voice sharpening, "to welcome you back. But first, we have a few questions, and we are prepared to use any means necessary to get the answers."

"I'm terrified," Draco dead panned, and a loud hiss issued from the crowd of Death Eaters. "Would you mind calling off your minions? They're leering, and it's making me rather uncomfortable."

The corner of Voldemort's mouth twitched, and he put up a hand, jerking his head. Instantly, the Death Eaters dispersed, forming a circle around the edges of the room.

"I'm not planning to run, if that's what you're afraid of," Draco said.

"You may well change your mind before the night is over, Mr. Malfoy." Draco covered up the chill that crept up his spine with a loud yawn.

"I do hope you aren't planning to keep me up all evening," he said. "I'm knackered."

"Your insolence will not be tolerated," Voldemort growled. Draco kept his mouth shut. It wouldn't do to piss him off just yet. "The length of your stay here depends entirely upon your willingness to answer our questions."

"Ah, yes. And just what are these burgeoning questions?"

"Lucius?" Draco's father stepped forward, and the boy really looked at him, for the first time in ages. His eyes, the same cool grey shade as Draco's, were tired and heavy. His face was drawn and sagging, and his robes hung off his once-towering frame. It was obvious his work was slowly killing him. Draco felt a stab of pity, which was quickly replaced by a surge of white hot anger. He had chosen this path, after all.

"Well?" he said, through clenched teeth. Lucius cleared his throat before he spoke.

"We want to know if you're..." He swallowed audibly, finding the words difficult to get out. "Are you involved in a romantic relationship with Harry Potter?"

Draco said nothing for a moment. It was imperative that he choose his words carefully.

"What, precisely, do you mean by a romantic relationship?"

Lucius swallowed again. "Are you involved with him... sexually?"

Draco smirked, relishing the pained look on his father's face. "Oh, well in that case, yes. I am involved sexually with Potter. And let me tell you, he's one great fu-"

"Draco!"

"Yes, father?"

Lucius grimaced. "Just answer the questions," he said raggedly. "There's no need to elaborate."

"Ah. My apologies. Carry on."

"How did this... relationship... come about?"

Draco laughed. "Honestly, father. You sound like a virgin schoolgirl. You want to know who fucked whom, is that it? Want to know who was on top -"

"I said no details!" Lucius roared. And then, more calmly, "That isn't what I meant, and you know it."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Well then." Draco sighed. He would have to start giving answers, and soon. "I slept with Ha-" shit! "-Potter, to get answers, if you must know."

"Answers to what?"

"The password to Dumbledore's office, for one. Would you like to know what it is?" There was a hungry gleam in Lucius's eye. He knew his father would kill for a chance to go poking about in the headmaster's private quarters.

"If you'd like to share," said his father, retaining his outwardly cool veneer.

"Take off my bonds," Draco said. A chilling laugh sounded behind him. It was Voldemort.

"That isn't the way it works, Draco."

Well, he hadn't really expected that to work.

"Black licorice," Draco said. "He changes it often, but it's always some sort of sweet." He made a mental note to tell Dumbledore to remove any incriminating evidence, and beg his forgiveness. He told himself it couldn't be helped. He had to give them at least one credible piece of information, if he ever wanted to get out of here.

"Very good, Draco," Voldemort said silkily. He came up behind the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek to fight the impulse to shake the clammy thing off. "A few more tidbits like that one, and perhaps we'll accept you back into the fold before morning."

"Now," said his father, getting down to business. "The wolf said you were caught trying to steal papers out of Dumbledore's office." Draco winced at his father's open prejudice against Remus, but said nothing. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Then where's the papers?" said a familiar voice. Crabbe, Sr. "Show ‘em if ya got ‘em."

"I got caught, you fool," Draco spat. "Do you think they'd let me keep top secret information and then hand me over to the enemy?" Crabbe moved toward him threateningly, but Voldemort held out a restraining hand.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "Mr. Crabbe may not be on your level intellectually, but he is your superior, and you will treat him as such."

"Sorry," Draco muttered, not really sorry at all.

"No," said Voldemort, a sadistic grin twisting his grotesque features. "You're young and impertinent, and I think you ought to be taught a lesson. Don't you agree, Lucius?"

Draco considered appealing to his father for a moment, but the look of defeat and submission etched on the man's face made him think twice. He would show him he could take whatever the Dark Lord could dish out.

The cruciatus hit him before he even heard the spell.

***

Harry staggered and fell to the cold stone floor as he and Hermione sprinted towards Dumbledore's office. "Harry!" he heard Hermione shout, as though from a great distance.

"Draco," he whispered, his heart thumping erratically. Something wasn't right - he could sense it. Something had gone wrong with the mission.

"Harry?" Hermione said again, crouching beside him. "Harry, what's happened?" Without giving her an answer, Harry hoisted himself to his feet and, with Hermione now in hot pursuit, began racing again through the corridor, charging toward Dumbledore's office. As if on cue, the gargoyle began to shift and turn, revealing the hidden staircase. Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Remus Lupin, looking exhausted and heartsick.

"Remus!" Harry panted, leaning against the stone wall to catch his breath. "What happened? What's wrong? It's something with Draco, isn't it? I can feel it!"

"Calm down, Harry," Remus said, his voice tired and resigned. His defeated tone upset Harry even further.

"Tell me, Remus! Dammit, what's happened to him?"

Remus passed a thin hand over his eyes and sighed, finally leaning back to sit on the steps, pulling Harry with him.

"The mission didn't go exactly as planned," he said slowly, wanting to break the news as gently as possible.

"How so?" Harry asked, his voice tight with barely maintained control.

Remus sighed again. "Lucius took Draco," he said simply, figuring straight out honesty was the best way to go.

"HE WHAT?"

Remus didn't bother telling him to calm down again. "Sirius didn't show," he said quietly. Harry, in his emotional state, took a moment to process this information.

"I can't believe after all that planning, after you were so careful, you let that bastard - Sirius what?"

"He didn't show. We found his bike - in the forest outside Hogsmeade. It was..." Remus's voice cracked almost imperceptibly, and he struggled a moment to regain his composure. "It was wrapped around a pine tree, mangled almost beyond recognition."

For the briefest moment, all thoughts of Draco fled from Harry's mind, and he was consumed with worry for his godfather, and the terrified werewolf who now sat before him.

"Remus," Harry began, slipping a comforting arm around the man's thin shoulders. He didn't know what to say, how to make things better. There were simply no consoling words to be found.

"It's bad, isn't it," he said finally. It was not a question. Remus simply nodded, understanding.

"The war is creeping ever nearer to Hogwarts," he said, sounding defeated already. "Many will fall in the coming weeks. I only hope Sirius is not the first." Here, his voice gave out entirely and he dissolved into sobs. Harry merely clutched him, his own hot tears mingling with those of his favorite professor. Another pair of arms wrapped around the both of them, and Harry glanced up to meet Hermione's own wet eyes.

"Well, isn't this a touching scene?" came a low, snide voice. Harry cringed. Trust Snape to show up at the worst possible time. Harry opened his mouth to insult the revolting man, not caring about the consequences, but Remus beat him to it.

"We found the bike," he said, his voice hollow. Apparently, this was news to Snape, who's dark eyes widened slightly. Remus went on to relate the condition of the bike when it was found. Harry wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't witnessed it for himself, but Snape's face grew pale as Remus continued speaking, and worry lines furrowed his brow.

Snape, worried? About Sirius? The world really is coming to an end.

"That isn't all," Hermione spoke up after a moment. "Harry and I have made a few discoveries of our own tonight."

The two men listened attentively as Hermione relayed their findings of the Anguionae, Remus growing more despondent and hopeless with every word, Snape's eyes darkening and becoming fierce.

"Come," he said suddenly. "We must alert Dumbledore." Harry's jaw was practically on the ground - this was a side of Snape he'd never witnessed. It was almost... human.

"I'd advise you to close your mouth, Potter," Snape said with a slight scowl, "or else Filch will have no need to set out the fly paper." Harry forced his mouth shut, but he and Hermione continued to stare. "Well, what are you waiting for? GO!" Hermione squeaked, Harry let out a short yelp, and the two of them fled up the staircase.

Behind them, Harry could hear Snape employing a different tactic to get Remus moving. "Come on, old man," he said, he voice almost gentle. "Pull yourself together. If not for Harry, then do it for him." Harry was surprised - he hadn't expected Snape to be quite so understanding about Remus and Sirius's close relationship. No time to ponder that however, as he and Hermione had reached the door to Dumbledore's inner sanctum.

Harry burst through unceremoniously, not bothering to knock. Dumbledore was slumped on a deep crimson chaise lounge. His breathing was shallow and his skin looked almost gray.

"P- professor?" Harry said uncertainly. He had never seen Dumbledore look so poorly.

The old wizard raised his head slightly and looked at the boy. "Ah, Harry my boy, what have you found?" But Harry wasn't thinking about the Anguionae just then.

"Professor, are you alright? You look ill." Dumbledore coughed, and tried rather unsuccessfully to cover it up.

"I'm fine, Harry. I just needed a bit of rest. I'm feeling ship-shape now. Hermione, would you do me a favor?" Hermione nodded, looking as frightened as Harry felt. "In that silver dish on the shelf over there, you'll find a small bag of lavender powder. Would you please mix that with a glass of water?" Hermione nodded again and went to pull the small silver bowl off the shelf. "Once I drink that, I'll be right as rain," Dumbledore said, his voice strained but cheerful.

Hermione was just opening the packet of powder when Snape, followed closely by Remus, strode into the room. His eyes flitted from Dumbledore to Hermione and back again, and his face grew angry. "Albus, how many times have I told you - you cannot miss a dose?"

Dumbledore smiled softly. "Yes, of course, Severus. How silly of me to forget." He sounded completely unfazed. Snape then looked back to Hermione, who had frozen at his entrance, the packet poised over the glass of water.

"You'll need to add that in slowly," he said, almost kindly. "Stir it first counter-clockwise for three turns. Very good," he said, as Hermione complied. "And then back four turns in the other directions." Hermione finished stirring, and carried the glass over to Snape, who turned to Dumbledore and sighed. "Honestly, Albus, you know how important it is that the potion be mixed correctly. Granger could have inadvertently caused you great harm." Hermione flushed, though Harry didn't know whether it was embarrassment over nearly messing up the potion, or from Snape treating her civilly.

"Are you in any pain?" Snape asked. Harry looked up sharply. Why would Dumbledore be in pain? What was that potion for, anyway?

"No, no," Dumbledore said, waving a frail hand.

"You look like you're -"

"I'm fine," Dumbledore said petulantly, and he made a move to sit up. He made it halfway before letting out a hiss and falling back onto his cushions. Harry tried to run to his side, but Snape put out an arm to keep him back.

"That's what I thought," he said, rolling his eyes. He took a small vial out of his robes and uncorked it with his teeth, dumping the contents into the potion, which turned a violent shade of fuchsia. He helped Dumbledore sit up slightly, and put the glass gently to the old man's lips. Immediately, color flooded back into his cheeks, and his eyes lost their glassy sheen.

"That's much better, thank you Severus," he said, sounding more like himself. Snape nodded tersely and set the glass aside. "Now," said Dumbledore, regaining his authority. "Tell me what it is you've discovered."

Harry looked at Hermione and nodded slightly. She was better at describing their findings, as Harry tended to get nervous and ramble. Dumbledore seemed worried and saddened, but not surprised by their news.

"It is as I feared," he said when Hermione had finished. "Until now, the Anguionae have been considered a myth, a wives' tale among wizards. When I was in school, we were taught about them in History of Magic, but since then no one has deemed them important enough to discuss, even as a legend. If anyone could find them, and unite them to fight on his side, it is Voldemort."

"So what do we do now?" Harry wondered aloud.

"We must find their Achilles' heel."

"Their what?"

"Their weakness," Hermione spoke up. "There's bound to be some way of defeating them. We just have to figure out what it is."

"Precisely,"Dumbledore said, smiling at Hermione. He looked fully himself at this point, Harry was glad to see. "Harry, you and Hermione continue your research, and let me know when you find anything at all that might be useful. Severus, I believe you and Remus have a few things to attend to."

Snape nodded. "The wolfsbane is almost ready."

That's right, Harry thought. Tonight's the full moon.

"I'm going out tonight, Albus," said Remus. It was the first thing he'd said since they had entered the headmaster's office.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lupin," Snape said, looking incredulous. "Even with the wolfsbane, it isn't safe -"

"I have to find him!" Remus said, sounding as though he were on the verge of hysteria. "My scent is infinitely sharper in wolf form. If he's anywhere within fifty kilometers, I'll be able to smell him."

"Albus, please," Snape began, but Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Of course, Remus," he said. "I am confident you will remain focused and in control on such an important mission. However, for safety's sake, I'd like Severus to go along with you."

Harry thought it was strange that Remus was the one who protested this.

"Absolutely not! Albus, if I find anything, it could be very dangerous. I'll be able to get away quickly as the wolf, Snape wouldn't. He would slow me down."

"Nevertheless, I feel it is best," Dumbledore said, and the matter was settled.

Snape nodded and walked out of the room, Remus muttering behind him. Hermione started to leave as well, but Harry pulled her back. He hadn't yet got a chance to hear the whole story of what had happened with Draco, or what they were going to do about it.

"Professor -"

"Tonks and Bill and Charlie Weasely are involved in the search and rescue of Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore said, reading his mind yet again. "I'll notify as soon as we have any word at all. For now, I think it's best if you and Ms. Granger get some rest - breakfast is in a few hours."

"But sir -"

"Harry," Dumbledore said, in that familiar tone of voice that let him know there would be no protesting, "there is nothing you can do at this point, except rest yourself, and hope that Mr. Malfoy is safe." Harry nodded, knowing he was defeated. He was practically dead on his feet, exhausted from the hours of research and the emotional strain of the past few moments. Hermione promised Dumbledore they would get back to work first thing in the morning, and dragged Harry out of the office by the hand.

Once they were in the hall, Hermione turned to him. "Harry, do you want to talk -"

"No, Hermione," Harry said wearily. "Right now, I just want to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow, I swear."

"But why did you react that way to -"

"Hermione!" Harry said, exasperated. Hermione flinched, and Harry immediately felt his frustration drain away, along with all of his energy. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow." Hermione accepted this, and gave Harry a quick hug before turning up the staircase to her room. Harry continued on to his own bedroom, lingering in the common room for a moment, not quite ready to face the solitude of the room he had shared with Draco. He curled up for a few minutes on the couch, feeling soothed by the merry crackle of the fire, and the warmth that sent a tingle through his chilled face. Harry considered sleeping on the couch, but having experienced that for just one night, he thought better of it.

He finally rose from the couch and entered the bedroom, shivering at the blast of cold air and muttering a soft "Lumos." His heart very nearly froze at the sight that greeted him.

A long, lithe figure stretched lazily on the bed before him, looking a bit worse-for-wear. "Hello, sexy," said Draco, and promptly passed out.

***

He watched in the shadows of the room, straining to catch any sign that Draco was going against the plan. It was hard to tell, of course, as the plan required Draco acting much the same as he had before. What was he whispering in Harry's ear? The dark figure moved as close as he dared, hoping to catch just a fragment of the low, frenzied speech, but Draco was speaking too quietly.

Should he report this to his master?     

The spy watched for a moment longer, until the scene in front of him got so heated it began to make him uncomfortable. Satisfied that Draco was merely performing the role they had set out for him (though with a disturbing amount of vigor and enthusiasm), the spy shuffled back into the darkness and disappeared.

***

"Draco? Draco, can you hear me? C'mon, wake up, please!" Harry gently slapped the marble-pale face below him, and sucked in a breath at how cold and clammy the fair skin was. He was also once again struck by how utterly beautiful, like some Renaissance statue, Draco was, even when bruised and battered. Harry softly traced a finger over the large purple-blue bruise that marred the left side of Draco's face. The boy didn't move, but Harry winced, anger and fear and a hundred other emotions threatening to overtake him at any moment.

"Draco, please come back to me," he whispered, lowering his head to pillow it on the other boy's chest. Draco's heartbeat was slow and rhythmic, lulling Harry, by now completely exhausted, toward slumber.

Which was probably why he was so surprised to find himself suddenly pressed against the wall.

"Draco! Draco, what -"

"Shut up," Draco said in a low voice, pressing his arm against Harry's throat. Harry struggled for a moment, until he realized Draco was barely even touching him, let alone restraining him in any way. Harry looked into the blazing grey eyes, terribly confused.

"Draco, tell me what's going -"

"I said, shut up!" Draco hissed, grabbing Harry's shoulders and thrusting him against the wall. This time, the contact was very real, and Harry saw stars as his head slammed hard into the unforgiving stone. Suddenly, Draco's mouth was moving against his ear, and Harry was straining to focus on the words.

"... have to have a row before we can make up, don't we?"

Harry was feeling rather dizzy, from both his impact with the wall, and the nearness of Draco. He shook his head and leaned back, trying to see into Draco's eyes.

"Please, I don't understand what's going on."

"Yell at me, Harry. Fight with me. Do something," Draco whispered urgently, his long fingers pressing painfully into the flesh of Harry's arms.

Harry was finally able to put enough distance between them to look Draco in the face. He saw there the coldness, the bitterness he had witnessed over the past couple days, saw the mask Draco wore when he didn't want to get hurt. And suddenly Harry realized it was just that - a mask. He looked into the stormy grey of Draco's eyes, and found something imploring in them, something pleading with Harry to just trust him.

So Harry did.

"You bastard," he said quietly. Confusion flickered over Draco's face for the barest of instants. "You fucking bastard. How dare you go off like that, pretending you were mad at me?" Relief broke over Draco's face, before being quickly replaced with a look of cold fury.

"That wasn't pretend, Potter," Draco growled.

"Like hell it wasn't!" Harry said, his voice beginning to raise. "I'm onto you Malfoy. I know all your little tricks. Snape told me. He told me, Draco. He told me you're his godson and that you went to him and told him you were pretending and how could you...?"

Draco's surprise at this revelation was genuine.

And so were Harry's tears.

"How could you?" he yelled, beating his fists against Draco's chest. "You left me! And I was so scared, and I didn't know when, or if, I'd ever see you again. You bastard..." he finished weakly, as Draco wrapped his hands around Harry's fists.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Draco whispered, and Harry knew this wasn't an act. This was Draco, and he wasn't angry anymore, and he was here, in Harry's arms. Almost.

Harry flung his arms around the smaller boy, nearly knocking them both off balance. "Don't ever do that again," he said fiercely into Draco's hair. Draco was nodding and sniffling and trying to touch Harry everywhere at once. Just when Harry thought he wouldn't be able to stand it any longer, Draco's lips found his, and Harry suddenly knew what it felt like to come home.

And it was better than a thousand Hogwarts homecomings, even after the longest summers.

After much too short a time, Draco moved his lips away from Harry's, and pressed them instead to Harry's neck, tracing shivery lines up his jaw, all the way to the curve of ear.

"I want you to know," he whispered breathlessly, "this is all part of the plan."

"What plan?" Harry gasped, as Draco's wandering hands found purchase against his hips.

"Voldemort's. I'm supposed to seduce you and lure you to him. In fact, someone is watching us right now." Draco flicked his tongue out against the shell of Harry's ear before moving back to his mouth, but Harry pulled back.

"What do you -" Harry began, but stopped abruptly when he saw that the pleading look was still in Draco's eyes. Harry found quite suddenly that he understood; understood that Draco was doing this not only to keep them both alive a while longer, but also because he wanted to. Because he wanted Harry as much as Harry wanted him. And so Harry said nothing, hoping his eyes were saying all the things he couldn't, the way Draco's did.

Apparently it worked, because Draco lowered his mouth to Harry's with a soft smile, and the two boys quickly became lost in one another.

They were so caught up in their reunion they didn't hear the soft pop! as their unseen audience quietly Disapparated.

***

Some time later, the two boys found themselves curled together on the floor at the foot of Draco's bed, kissing and touching lazily. The quiet interlude was interrupted by a sharp crack! and they looked up to see a rather embarrassed house elf staring at them.

"Dink!" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

The tiny elf flushed to the very tips of her expansive ears, her eyes so wide they seemed to take over her face.

"Dinkly is just coming to see if Master Potter is needing anything," she said with a squeak. "Or his friend," she added quickly, nodding at Draco and blushing even more furiously. "Dinkly's mother is making her come up here, sirs. Dinkly did not mean to interrupt."

"It's alright Dink," Harry said, a smile, his first real one in ages, tugging at the corners of his lips. "Erm, Dink, this is Draco. Draco, Dink. She's Dobby's daughter." Draco gave Dinkly a crooked grin, and then his eyes widened.

"Dobby, our old house elf?" he said, and Harry nodded. "Why, that old scoundrel!"

Harry laughed, but Dinkly made a small indignant squeak and he turned back to her. "You said your mother made you come up here, Dink?"

"Yes," Dinkly said, sounding upset. "She is insisting I be looking after you, Harry Potter. But she is not knowing you had company. Dinkly is sorry she bothered you Master Potter and friend."

"That's all right, Dink," Harry said. "No harm done."

"Dinkly," Draco said curiously, "who is your mother?"

The elf looked indecisive for a moment, and Harry was afraid she might take after her father and start beating her head against the wall. He wondered why she should seem so upset to reveal her mother's identity.

"Dinkly's mother is being Winky, sirs," she said finally, tugging nervously at the potholder wrapped against her chest with heavy twine. Harry's eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead.

"Winky?" he said incredulously. "So Dobby and Winky were... are..." he trailed off. He still wasn't sure how house elves reproduced, and the thought of Dobby and Winky having a child together was so odd he couldn't even fathom it.

"Well," Draco said, ever the proper young aristocrat, "please give your mother our thanks for her concern, but inform her we aren't needing anything at the moment." Dinkly nodded, accepting this, and raised a hand to snap her fingers.

"Wait!" Harry called before she could disappear. "Dink, could you please do us a favor?"

"Of course, sir! Dinkly would do anything Harry Potter asked!"

"That makes two of us," Draco said softly, and Harry elbowed him with a grin.

"Would you send a message to Dumbledore telling him that Draco has returned safely, and that we'll be in to see him shortly?"

"Dinkly will do it right away Harry Potter!"

Harry smiled his thanks, and waited until the elf disappeared before turning back to the boy seated next to him.

"Do we have to?" Draco said immediately, already pouting.

"Yes," Harry laughed. "We have to let everyone know you're back, safe and sound. But not," he said wickedly, "before I've had my way with you."

"Why Harry, you cad!" Draco said, laughing as Harry waggled his brows and pushed the slighter boy to the floor, kissing him soundly.

"Dumbledore can wait for a bit," Harry mumbled against the velvety skin of Draco's throat.

Draco moaned his complete agreement.

***

Harry and Draco were sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, surrounded by Hermione, Neville, and Crabbe. Goyle was ill from too many sweets, and had opted to stay in his room. Everyone was happy to see Draco back, though Hermione kept looking worriedly at his bruises. Harry had a feeling she would corner them later and demand to heal them.

Harry, for his part, kept his hand wrapped tightly around Draco's, no longer caring what people thought or said. Hermione had given them a strange, wondering look, and Crabbe seemed a bit squicked, but Neville and Dumbledore both grinned broadly at the pair's open affection.

Dumbledore was looking much better - the color had returned to his cheeks, and the impish sparkle was back in his eye. Harry was grateful that whatever potion Snape had given him seemed to be doing it's job. Currently, Dumbledore was praising Draco for his bravery and cool head in the face of danger. Draco thanked him humbly for the praise, but he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Harry knew Draco wanted to be honest with Dumbledore, but that would put them all in danger, particularly if there was a spy in their midst. Harry looked around, wondering who among their peers would so readily betray them. He knew it was no one in this room. Hermione was simply out of the question, as was Neville, and Crabbe had finally started earning Harry's trust. As for Goyle...

Goyle.

Harry clenched Draco's hand so suddenly the boy gasped. He tried to give him a meaningful look, but Dumbledore was offering them a lemon drop and grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Harry had no choice but to politely accept and try to keep from shouting. He felt as though a giant rock had dropped into his stomach. It was suddenly all so clear - Goyle's standoffishness, his distance from Crabbe, his absence from the meeting...

Harry wouldn't have time to ponder the matter any further that night, as the door to Dumbledore's office swung open. Minerva McGonagall stood in the doorway, clad in her dressing gown and sleeping cap, which would have been quite funny, had it not been for the look of distress on her face.

"Albus," she said shakily. "It's Severus. He's been injured." Draco looked up sharply at these words, squeezing Harry's hand painfully.

"And what about Remus?" Dumbledore said, asking the obvious.

McGonagall shook her head. "It wasn't him." There was an audible sigh of relief from everyone in the room. "The moon set just after the attack, and Remus was able to change back and help Severus to safety. I've just been contacted by Ron Weasely; Remus and Severus are on their way to the Burrow as we speak. It's too risky for them to Apparate with Snape's injuries, so they're traveling on foot."

Dumbledore rose slowly from his chair, bracing himself against his desk. "Thank you, Minerva. I will meet them at the Burrow."

"Professor," Harry spoke up, concerned for Dumbledore's health. "With all due respect, I don't think you should be traveling until you're feeling better. I'd like to see Ron, and Remus, and I'm sure Draco would like to see Professor Snape, so why don't we go instead?"

Harry hadn't really expected that to go over well, but after a thoughtful moment, Dumbledore nodded and lowered himself back into his chair. "Very well, Harry. You and Draco may go. But please take Hermione with you - she may be useful in helping heal Severus's wounds."

Harry nodded, and the three young people stood up. Harry stepped over to the fire and reached for the floo powder, taking a steadying breath. He still hated traveling by floo, but he didn't have much choice. He meant what he said when he told Dumbledore he was too ill to go to the Burrow. The headmaster's health was becoming an ever-present worry, and Harry could no longer ignore it.

Harry gave Dumbledore a reassuring smile before tossing a handful of floo powder into the fire. The fire roared and turned a sickening shade of green, making Harry's stomach churn. He stepped into the now-benign flames and shouted, "The Burrow!" The roaring grew louder in his ears, and Dumbledore office began to shift and spin away.

Draco's face was the last thing he saw before he succumbed to the roar and let himself fall.

***

Harry hit the hardwood floor of the Burrow with a dull thump, and was quickly pulled out of the way by a pair of strong arms.

"Ron!" he cried, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder.

"Harry! I thought Dumbledore was coming?"

"He's not well, Ron. He's been ill, and I thought it was best if he stayed at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded. "Well, I'm glad to see you, mate! Come on in." Ron pulled Harry into the kitchen, busying himself with the teapot.

"We'll need four cups," Harry said, as Ron summoned the mugs. Ron turned and gave him a questioning look. "Well, Hermione's coming also." Ron's eyes brightened considerably at this news. "And so is -"

A loud crash from the living room cut him off abruptly, and the two rushed in to find Hermione and Draco in a tangle on the floor.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, just as Harry cried, "Draco!"

The two of them managed to get the pair untangled, and tug them ungracefully to their feet. Ron gave Hermione a hug, and then turned to glare at Draco.

"What is he doing here?" Ron said angrily. Harry sighed, not really wanting to deal with this right now, but knowing there wouldn't be a better time.

"Ron, you and I need to have a talk," Harry said slowly. Ron looked from him to Hermione and back, utterly confused.

"I'll make the tea," Hermione said quickly. "Draco, why don't you help me?" Draco nodded and followed her into the kitchen, leaving a bewildered Ron behind with Harry.

"Okay," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "Please Ron, just try to stay calm..."

***

Half an hour later, Hermione was shoving a steaming cup of tea into Ron's hands. He was sitting on the sofa, and he hadn't said a word since Harry started talking. Draco had wisely chosen to stay in the kitchen. Ron was just opening his mouth to comment when Draco burst into the living room.

"It's Severus!" He panted, grabbing the armchair to keep from slipping on the wood floor. "I saw them out the window!"

Ron was up in a flash, all business now, rushing out the front door to help Remus with his burden. The two of them half-dragged, half-carried the unconscious Snape into the house and lowered them onto the sofa. Hermione rushed forward to assess the man's wounds, and Draco hovered about the arm of the couch, looking nervously at the blood soaking through Snape's robes. Harry hung back with Remus, wanting to know what had happened.

"Sirius is alive, Harry - I could scent him." Relief flooded through Harry, weakening his knees. Remus grabbed him by the elbow, and the two of them supported one another.

"Do you know where he is?" Harry asked finally.

Remus looked frustrated. "No. I was on the trail when we were attacked. I know the general direction, but I can't pinpoint the location."

"Who attacked you?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. One of Voldemort's consorts, I'm sure. If it hadn't been for Snape..." Remus trailed off, looking concernedly at the injured man on the couch. "He saw him coming before I even smelled him. He knocked me out of the way and took the brunt of the attack."

Harry glanced over at Snape, who looked very pale and frail against the dark cloth of the sofa. Harry actually felt sorry for the man, and grateful to him for saving Remus. Fortunately, Hermione had acquired the skills needed to heal most of the professor's wounds. He was already beginning to come around, muttering and writhing in his state of half-consciousness.

After a moment, Hermione instructed Ron and Draco to remove Snape's robes and help him into the pajamas she had conjured. Ron looked less than pleased at both the prospect of undressing Snape, and working with Draco, but after a sharp glance from Hermione, he set to his task without complaint. Hermione then pulled Remus and Harry aside, clearly upset.

"Remus, I need you to tell me exactly what it was that attacked Professor Snape."

"Why?" said Remus, warily. "What's the matter?"

Hermione sighed. "Whatever type of animal it was, I think it may have been poisonous. I need to know, so I can find the correct antivenin."

"Wait," Harry said, confused. "Animal? Remus, I thought you said -"

"I said it was one of Voldemort's consorts, Harry. I never said it was human." Harry let the shock of this sink in for a moment. If Voldemort was persuading animals to fight on his side, they would be even more outnumbered than before. "And Hermione, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure exactly what form it was in when it attacked. It was too dark, and it all happened too fast."

Hermione and Harry looked at one another. "What form?" Hermione said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Remus slowly, "that this creature has the ability to change shape, from one animal form to another."

Harry hadn't noticed Draco listening, but the boy was now standing beside him, his entire body tense. "So you mean he's got a ... a..."

"Yes," Remus said solemnly. "Voldemort's got a Shifter."

***

"I don't understand," Harry said, taking a swig of his fourth cup of tea. "What exactly makes these Shifters so dangerous, anyway?"

"They're very strong, for one thing," said Remus. The five of them were seated on and around the sofa, after Ron carefully moved Snape to one of the upstairs bedrooms. He was drifting into consciousness for longer periods of time, but his delirious muttering made no sense. Hermione was concerned that he get medicine, but she was afraid to move him to Hogwarts just yet. So for now they sat around, drinking tea and discussing the mysterious Shifter.

"They're nearly impossible to kill," Remus continued, staring down into his cup. "Most can shift in the blink of an eye, changing into the necessary form to outwit, outrun, or overpower their adversary."

"And they're rare," Draco chimed in. "So not much is known about their power."

"That's right," said Remus. "Many people believe they also exhibit some form of mind control, though it's typically very mild."

"And some are so powerful they can change into a mist or a fog and disappear on the wind, just by willing it," Draco said, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.

"That's all well and good," Hermione said, "but if we don't know what form it was in when it attacked Snape, how will I find an antidote? Some sort of poison has been injected into his bloodstream, and if I don't find some way of stopping it, he will die."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, until finally Draco spoke up. "Would the blood of a Shifter work?" he asked. Hermione pondered this for a moment.

"It's possible," she said. "It could be that during the fight Snape injured the Shifter, and some of its blood got into his wounds. Yes, that is a likely possibility."

Draco nodded, his jaw set. "Good. Then take some of my blood."

No one had a chance to react to this bombshell, as Dumbledore's face suddenly appeared in the fire and began speaking without preamble.

"Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Remus! You must return to Hogwarts at once! Ron, remain at the Burrow and tend to Snape. Prepare beds and supplies for twenty people."

"Professor," Harry said. "What's going on?"

"There's been an attack. We sent a scouting group out at dawn to investigate some rumors of death eater activity outside Hogsmeade. It was an ambush. The group was attacked, and several were killed. The remainder are now on their way to the Burrow, and should be arriving shortly. I need the rest of you to get back here as quickly as possible."

"There's more, isn't there, Dumbledore?" Harry, reaching out a hand to clutch Draco's arm. "What is it? What's really happening?"

Dumbledore looked infinitely sad in the dancing flames of the ironically cheery fire. "It's the Anguionae, Harry. They're marching on Hogwarts." There was a collective gasp as this news sank in. "We need you Harry. The battle begins today."

A/N: Whew! Three months later, and this is all I can manage! Sorry guys. Anywho, next chapter we'll talk more about the whole Shifter thing, Sirius will be discovered, and the war begins in earnest. We'll also be seeing some more boggarts, and all those book passages will come into play.