The Light of Day

The Light of Day

Chapter 2

The New Minister

Harry thought the car ride would never end, but it did, stopping in front of a very large castle with looming towers only matched by Hogwarts. It was green and black and its style had a fierce look to it.

He looked around and realized that there were no other houses around, only a large lake and a forest in the corner that was thick with trees. It felt like there were no people for miles-- only him and those three wizards.

And of course, there was Malfoy.

"He's somewhere in there, isn't he?" he wondered aloud.

Dean Thomas stared at him but said nothing. He only motioned to the two others, Harry had learned during the car ride that the driver was Marcus and the one that had sat next to him was Gil, and they approached the large door. The door had a picture of the same green dragon imprinted upon Dean's cloak and the same acronym: MPPF. Along with it, there was an old mosaic with a picture of three faceless mages, all with raised staffs. There was no doorknob to be seen or a doorbell or knocker.

Instead, Dean approached the door and placed his left hand in the centre of it.

"Tal limbrum dor e Draco," he spoke softly. Harry did not know what he said, but expected the door to open, like in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts or to enter Gryffindor's common room when someone uttered the correct password.

But none of that happened. Immediately, a radiant light was cast on them and Harry felt a sudden pain in his stomach. The next moment, he felt as if he was flying, shooting through darkness, going, going, going, and going...

Suddenly they landed in a small, circular room, with nothing to see except the same green dragon, which was painted on the floor and a small door, which fortunately, had a doorknob. Gil, the sullen one, looked, and acted if nothing unexpected had happened. He opened the door and entered, with Dean following. Marcus pushed Harry in after them.

The next room was just as plain: the only thing that inhabited it was an old wooden staircase that when looked from below, seemed to have no stopping point. The four then began their journey up, with Harry walking briskly so nobody could start to push him again. He thought of how he should try to make a break for it now, while he can. He quickly tossed the idea away when he glanced and saw Marcus' vicious face.

Surprisingly, the trip was very short and before Harry knew it, he was standing next to another door, with the same green dragon painted on it. He looked back, expecting directions from Dean, but no one was there.

"Dean?" he spoke softly. Hearing no answer, he stood and waited, but no one came. He seemed happier once he took in the idea that he could run for it now, just try to escape this place. Ron or Hermione would be able to locate him sooner or later.

But he soon realized that the staircase, just like Dean and his comrades, had disappeared as well. A wall now stood where the staircase had been. Harry felt alone for the first time since he was jailed in Azkaban. Even during the car ride to Malfoy's house, or whatever it was, he had not felt alone. Scared, yes, but confident as well. Even though he had nothing to protect himself, he didn't really think the minister's officials could hurt him severely in any way.

Even though the minister was Malfoy.

He would be in there right now, inside that room, with only a door separating Harry from seeing him. Would he dare open it? What dangers could be lying in there?

Shameful of you Potter. You defied the Dark Lord, but you can't even dare to open a door where the Minister of Magic awaits?

Harry remembered back before of the nervous, fidgeting Cornelius Fudge, who, as told by Hermione the night before, had resigned a few years after Harry was confined in Azkaban.

But how had Malfoy of all people become Minister?

Closing his eyes, Harry gripped the doorknob, and started to turn it.

He stopped suddenly when the door didn't open. He was suddenly relieved, for he wanted to stall as much time as possible.

But why stall time if he had no where else to go?

Again, he twisted the doorknob harder, and this time, the door sprang open, releasing a flash of light that hit Harry hard in the body. Instead of falling backwards however, Harry felt an invisible force pushing him forward and suddenly, he was in there. He was in Malfoy's lair.

Harry looked around, and was astounded as he glanced from wall to wall, which was filled with paintings, all with the same thing in common.

Dragons.

There were pictures of dragons terrorizing towns, dragon races, dragon fights, and dragons being slain by wizards and warriors. He looked up in the ceiling, and was astonished to see that instead of an ordinary ceiling, it resembled the one in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. But instead of it bewitched to look like the sky ahead, it shone with large, green, silver, white, dragons, seemingly living, flying all around. At some instances, Harry could see wizards in the background, but none seemed to want to hurt the majestic beasts.

Harry felt as if he could stand there forever and watch those magnificent creatures descent up and down from the sky, flying...

"Nice view Harry?"

Harry Potter snapped back into reality, gasping in surprise. He hadn't heard a single voice other than himself since Dean Thomas had spoken to the door. He looked directly forward of him and saw a man standing in front of a small window, arms folded. The man that was known as Draco Malfoy.

"Welcome to my home Harry," Draco spoke again, smiling.

Harry couldn't answer. All he did was stand there and stare at Draco, who was so different-- or was it similar? -- to the Draco Malfoy of long ago.

He seemed taller than the last time Harry remembered him, matching him in height. But Malfoy had also grown more muscular and healthier. While Harry had spent the last ten years in Azkaban, eating what the guards gave him; Malfoy seemed to have had meals more fitting and had had more exercise and time outside. Harry had become skinnier and paler. Malfoy was quite the opposite, having become more burly and more tanned than he had ever been before.

It had also seemed that Malfoy's attitude, or rather the attitude that his face showed, had changed. The cocky, menacing smirk was gone, replaced by a pleasant smile that warmed those who received it. But Malfoy also seemed lonelier. Perhaps that was because his two sidekicks, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were nowhere to be near. But maybe it was because of another reason. This was a Malfoy that Harry had never seen before, a Malfoy that did not seem like the type to call anyone a "mudblood", or whisper insults about one in another's ear. This was a Malfoy that Harry could perhaps grow to like.

Or was this just a first impression?

Harry reminded himself never to judge a chocolate frog by the card that came with it. He stared at Draco Malfoy, who smiled warmly back at him and nodded his head awkwardly. "Thank you," he managed to croak out.

Malfoy now neared Harry, smile still plastered on his face. "Has it been hard?"

Harry did not understand.

"Has what been hard?"

"Azkaban," answered Malfoy, the smile clearing his face as he spoke the word.

Harry tried to think of what to say.

"Y- yes."

"It's hard to think of being in your position," Malfoy responded. "I know what you thought of me in the past, Harry, and I promise you, I've changed. It's kind of hard to say that and so suddenly, but I have changed. You probably won't believe it, but I was heart struck when I heard that, that ridiculous Fudge," Draco spat out the word like it was something dirty, "sentenced you to ten years in that, that place. I knew you were innocent Harry, I knew you were. You remember that time don't you, when Fleur and I tried to track you and Neville Longbottom?"

It looked like Malfoy wanted an answer.

"Yes, I remember," Harry said stiffly.

"Well, I regret that Harry, I really do. I could've stopped Silver phoenix-- I mean Fleur, when she was hunting you down several days later, but I didn't. I feel that I caused it, you going to Azkaban I mean."

Yeah, you did Malfoy, Harry thought.

But outside, he just nodded his head.

Malfoy smiled again.

"So, you forgive me then?"

I don't.

"I- I, I..." Harry shook his head. He couldn't say it, not yet, not after what dilemma Malfoy caused him, even if it was ten years ago.

"You'll join your father soon, Potter!"

Memories of the past streamed into his mind.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry closed his eyes tight. He couldn't move, and had no time to react. My last moment in the world...

"You fool!" Nott screamed, seizing the wand away from the hooded Death Eater, who was now quivering. "Turner, you git! You can't even do it right! You have no use to the Death Eaters nor his Dark Highness, you stupid idiot! Crucio!"

Michael Turner fell onto the ground writhing in pain, begging for Nott to stop, but of course, the caster said nothing. Harry sat there, back against light post, and stared. He was not dead after all... What had happened? Michael must not have had the strength to cast it right or something, for he was still alive... He stopped contemplating after Nott turned and stared right into his eyes, a smirk appearing on his face. The Death Eater began laughing violently, making the other three minions scampering for a corner.

But instead of pointing his wand at Harry, he did so on Fleur and Malfoy, healing them from statuses of stunned and petrified. They stood up and bowed to Nott, who now turned back to Harry, again with an evil smirk on his face.

"That fool didn't have the guts, or the strength to kill you. The Dark Lord will deal with him later. I'm growing impatient Potter, so I'll take the honor of killing--"

Nott's words were cut short, an expression of horror seeming to have overtaken his face. Harry did not have the strength to turn back, but he could hear voices in the distance. Voices that were not all evil.

"Hang on Harry!"

"I'll banish you death eaters!"

Harry knew instantly that it was the DARV, at last locating their confrontation site.

You'll be in Azkaban before you know it Nott.

"Sir, kill him quick!" Malfoy shouted. "Or I'll kill him instead."

"No time for that Malfoy," Nott said brusquely, sliding his wand into his robes and raising his arms into the air.

"Degro Armanna!" he cried into the night. The five other death eaters that were still standing raised their wands into the air, chanting a sentence long spell that seemed to shake the winds of the sky. Harry watched in amazement as clouds of fire seemed to burst out from nowhere, swarming the Death Eaters like a plague of locusts. It grew bigger and bigger, entirely covering up the minions of the Dark Lord.

The witches and wizards had arrived, coming over to Harry in an effort to heal him.

But as Harry lay there, he could distinctly see Remus Lupin and Ronald Weasley hopelessly running over to the clouds of fire. As Ron reached his arm out, the smoke cleared and disappeared. All the Death Eaters, even the ones that were unconscious and the suffering Turner, had disappeared into the fire.

A team of healers came to the scene, assuring Harry that it was all right.

But the ringing in his ear continued of the words of one Death Eater...

"You'll join your father soon, Potter!"

When Harry awoke this time, he felt a sense of relief right away.

Don't scream...

He quickly scanned the area, and realized that instead of being in Malfoy's office, or hideout, or lair, whatever it was, he was lying in a bed in a room that consisted of large rows of cabinets and the bed. The only other person, beside himself, in the room was Draco Malfoy, who was circling around the room aimlessly, humming a tune Harry couldn't quite hear.

He sat up on the bed and looked at Malfoy, who hadn't noticed anything.

Was this the same Malfoy that despised Harry? Was this the Malfoy that wanted to kill him?

Was this the Malfoy that hated him so much?

Harry knew that he wouldn't get his answers from sitting here.

Or from talking to Malfoy.

Harry stood up tall and walked towards Malfoy, who stopped and grinned at him.

"Well Harry, you finally woke up! Thought you never would!"

"Where am I?" Harry questioned. Did Malfoy take him to some kind of hospital, St. Mungo's maybe?

"Oh, you never left the room Harry," Malfoy answered casually.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, er, you can say that this room is similar to the Room of Requirement in Hogwarts. Yes, I know about it," Malfoy smiled broadly when Harry looked astonished. "It works about the same way. When I need or want something, the room changes to match my need. Very useful, Harry. It's an essential tool for a minister." As Malfoy finished explaining, the room slowly dimmed and turned back to the state that Harry had seen when he first entered and saw Malfoy.

There was a pause as the minister walked over to the window again, looking at it fondly.

Harry didn't know what to say.

"Er, um..."

"You can ask me anything Harry," Malfoy spoke up, not turning back.

"Well, why did you bring me here?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry fumed. Was Malfoy playing with him?

"You know what I mean Malfoy," he retorted harshly. "You don't usually give this kind of treatment to all release Azkaban prisoners, do you?"

"But Harry," Malfoy replied calmly, "you were innocent, weren't you? That makes you a special case."

"Sirius Black was also innocent."

Harry did not know why he had said that. The feeling of his godfather must still be in him. It had been so long since he had thought about Sirius...

"I would've let him go Harry," Malfoy said.

"No you wouldn't--

"Not the old me," Malfoy interrupted, turning around, "but me as I am right now. Yes, I know all about Peter Pettigrew and his betrayal to your parents. Learned that in Death Eater 101." He let out a small laugh, but stopped when he saw the stoned look on Harry's face. "Uh, sorry Harry, but really, I would've let him go. Fudge on the other hand... Well, he was a bad nutter. Rambling on about how we need to give him to the Dark Lord. Well, he was the most loyal Death Eater I ever saw that wasn't one."

"You talk Malfoy, but you never told me why you ordered your men to bring me here. I don't believe that all you want to do is say sorry. What're you hiding?"

"Please, please Harry," Malfoy said with a smile, "call me Draco. You should you know, since it's my name."

"Answer my question!" Harry shouted, his hands forming fists, performing his first act of pure hatred since he stepped out of Azkaban. "You never change, did you Malfoy? You can't fool me with that innocent act, you can't turn me on your side!" He stepped closer to Malfoy's desk and flung his right arm, knocking and upsetting one of the glass goblets on it.

"Now residing to destroying my properties Harry?"

"Just answer my question!"

"Say it first."

"Say what?"

"Say my name."

"Malfoy!" Harry answered. He felt as if he was going to blow up in a couple of seconds.

Malfoy laughed amusedly.

"Not that Harry. You know not that."

"What? Oh... Draco."

"Good job Harry, I knew you could do it!" Malfoy clapped his hands together several times. Harry couldn't tell if the act was sincere or sarcastic.

"Won't you ever answer me?"

"Yes I will Harry," Malfoy replied, "yes I will."

Another pause.

"Well?"

"I brought you here to tell you some rules, some rules that may be uncommon to you. They're rules I just made," Malfoy answered, his eyes boring into Harry's. "One of them is that there will now be daily checks of every nook and cranny in every house in the wizarding world. My men, 'Malfoy's Physical and Political Forces', known to most as MPPF. They're the ones that brought you to my residence."

"Everything?" Was Harry hearing this correctly?

"Everything under my control. If they go bursting into any house you will be living in or are visiting, don't be surprised. If they're wearing my trademark, it's legal." Suddenly, Malfoy glanced back at the window, and shook his head.

"Ah, I was thinking of you staying here a bit longer Harry, but in a few moments I'll be late for a meeting. Got to go now." He strode past Harry saying only, "Show yourself out." He opened the door, closing it softly behind him.

Harry ran over to the window, trying to cast a last look at the Minister of Magic, but as the seconds went by, nothing appeared.

"He must've gone some other way," he whispered softly to himself.

Better get out now.

But as Harry turned around, he discovered that he was the only thing that inhabited the totally white room. Everything else was gone.

Harry pushed the door open just as Malfoy had. He found himself not staring at an empty wall or a staircase, but another identical door. He hesitated for a moment, and then opened the door, realizing now that he was outside of Malfoy's castle.

The door behind him slammed open and he jerked back to look at it.

But instead of the door he had went through, it was the one with the green dragon, mosaic, and MPPF imprinted on it.

Harry turned back and stared at the road, which seemed to wind on forever and came to a halt.

Where could he go?

There was no transportation of any kind to take him anywhere, and even if there was, he didn't know anywhere to go!

Where were Hermione and Ron?

He kicked at the ground furiously, walking up and down.

"Where are you Malfoy!" he shouted.

Of course, there was no answer.

As the minutes ticked by, Harry decided to start walking for as far as he could. He continued on foot, going, going, going, and going...

So thirsty...

Ten years stuck in a prison had left him unhealthy and unfit. He soon found himself on the ground, digging aimlessly at the sand, trying to discover a source of water. The winds had started to pick up and the dust swarmed his eyes, leaving him in an unpleasant mood. The roads seemed endless, for as far as he walked, there seemed to be still as much distance as since he started.

At last, he managed to regain his strength, but now backtracked his way back down the straight road, to the Malfoy estate. There was at least a shield to protect him from the hot rays of the sun there.

Finally making it back, he slumped down beside the front door and sighed in exhaustion. What was he supposed to do? Lie there and wait for Malfoy to come back? No, he wasn't going to do that. Not now, not ever.

As his eyes moved lazily around, he noticed a small, folded card on the floor next to several flowering shrubs, also shaded by the sun. Curiously, he moved his hand to grab it, but not daring to open it, yet.

A private letter of Malfoy's?

Slowly, he unfolded it, revealing a picture of a house too shabby to be a manor, but too big to be considered a normal house. The small plants grown outside the house almost completely covered the small door, which had a small knocker resembling a lion. The windows revealed nothing of the inside of the house and the only organism that could be seen was a sparrow that flew around a dark green brush.

It was none other than Remus Lupin's house. The headquarters of the DARV.

Abruptly, a radiant light shot out from the moving photograph and Harry felt like some force was pushing him into it. The next moment, he could see nothing but specks of light as he shot without will to a passageway that seemed to lead straight towards--

"Harry Potter!"

Harry grunted in surprise and squirmed his way out of a handshake by a tall man with fair hair and a smile that seemed brighter than the sun's rays.

"G-Gilderoy Lockhart?" he gasped, falling down onto a green brush. A sparrow that had rested on it gave a small 'cheep' and flew away, irritated.

Was he really where he thought he was? And was that Gilderoy Lockhart?

"Harry, Harry, how nice to see you? How long has it been? But oh, aren't you in Azkaban? Don't worry though, Master Lupin told me that you're innocent, so I don't need to be afraid of you. Want my autograph?"

Before Harry could answer, the door of the house behind Lockhart opened and a man in a silver robe to match his hair stepped out, a stern expression on his face. He did not seem to notice Harry.

"Gilderoy, I told you to stay inside! Want me to send you back to the place?"

Lockhart let out a small yelp.

"No, Master Lupin, not that place, never that place! I'm sorry I disobeyed-- just was poking around when I found Harry Potter. I think he wants my autograph."

"Harry Potter? Where?"

Harry immediately stood up and Remus, who stared at him in stunned fascination. "Remus..."

"Harry!" Remus Lupin shouted in joy. "You're here! About time too, Hermione and Ron said those slaves of Malfoy's took you away!" He ran over to Harry and embraced him.

Harry smiled contentedly. Remus was the closest thing he had to a father.

Lockhart cleared his throat loudly, indicating evidently to the door.

"The others are probably waiting for Harry's arrival too, Master. Don't hog all of it!"

Remus grinned.

"Right you are Gilderoy. Come on now Harry, let's go."

Harry agreed and walked into the house, Remus following, and Lockhart holding the door open.

"Ten years they've waited Harry," Remus whispered to him as they entered. "For you, their leader, to return."