The Snake's Clan

"blah-blah" talking

'blah-blah' thinking

blah-blah flash-back

Chapter 10 : A thousand years of waiting

Friday, October the 30th

Moonlight flooded the royal-like room. Thick and soft sumptuously embroidered curtains framed the sole but noble window, rendering a unique view of this powerful realm that was the Malfoy's domains. For a thousand years now had they reigned as sovereigns on their lands. Time and Progress not persuasive enough to compete with the supreme and cogent commanding of the vampire lords.

Deified by the beams of light, the last heir stood majestically, offering this private world a centre. A black velvet robe soon coated the silk covered body. The silver shape of a Asian dragon emerged on the back and a snake belt girded it around his waist. Casting a last glance at the mirror, which nodded in appreciation of the sight, Draco drew a long breath and got out of the room.

As he travelled through the corridors, he recalled all he'd discovered in fifteen months of time. Having ferreted in the Manor, he'd found manuscripts and brought them to Hogwarts to entertain himself with decrypting them. He'd been horrified when reading the first Malfoy was a Gryffindor, and not as his father thought, that is to say someone that had gone in the Gryffindor's house, but a heir of Godric Gryffindor. Learning his mate had been Salazar Slytherin hadn't gone away any better: why this fucking Potter had inherited Slytherin's powers by fighting Voldemort and himself nothing, while being his heir?!

Above everything, his father spent all his time with this red-eyed snake, grovelling at his feet. That was inadmissible and had to be stopped! Out of incommensurable rage, he threw a fist in the dormitory's wall, crushing his bones in the process and getting stares out of his roommates. Not wanting to receive more attention that he already had, he stuffed the parchment in his robe's pocket and went out, in need of destroying something... or someone. Potter seemed a right choice of victim. Pondering, he changed his mind: he felt the hunger in his system, the desire to hunt and to kill. At the beginning of the year, he'd discovered his father's secret and had no wish of Potter hearing of it, or worse, witnessing it. And what with Draco's hair growing suddenly long, canines morphing into fangs or nails into claws, the green-eyed wizard wouldn't lack evidence of what his enemy was.

He suddenly stopped, finding himself in front of Salazar's statue.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," he hissed angrily, "This whole shit is your doing!"

He'd only finished talking when he froze: the statue had smirked! He was sure of it...

"That make you smile? I'll laugh when your official heir will be killed by Potter!"

"A half-blood, heir of Slytherin? Salazar would be ashamed!"

Draco turned toward the direction of the voice and faced a wall, where was enthroned a painting that weren't there only a moment before. Looking at it, he had the impression of looking into a mirror.

"Who are you?" He asked, his anger flying away under the surprise.

"You ignore it?!" The painted frowned, "Really, I've become stupid with the time..."

He couldn't add any thing more as Draco's rage had come back like thunder and he clawed the boy's face. He faintly heard a cry of dolour but didn't registered since his own hurt more then he could bare. That had come when he'd touched the painting, what was in it?

"What did you do to me?" He shouted.

The boy stared at Draco, pressing his hand against his cheek, "You fool! If you hurt me, you hurt yourself! You're me and I'm you, we're the same people in two different periods."

Understanding why it had hurt but not how it could have happened in the first place, it was Draco's turn to frown, "That doesn't say who you are. There's only one Draco Malfoy and it's me."

Seeming to realise, the boy materialised a cloth in his hand and wiped away the blood on his face, "You didn't read Salazar's parchment, did you?"

Not wondering how the other could know about it, Draco immediately answered, " Only half of it."

They observed one another for a time, "Finish reading it, then come back, we have a lot to talk about." And the painting disappeared of the wall.

Not wanting to lose more time then he already had, he sat down in the middle of the corridor and took out the manuscript. That added all he needed to know: the boy on the painting was Dracken Malfoi, a ancestor of his, and he didn't know how, but it was also him. He began to enjoy the situation, despite the blood that poured on his cheek. He'd have to go and see Pomfrey later. He called for the young man and the painting appeared again.

"Already?"

"The faster I know what you have to tell me, the less chance I have to lose you to Potter."

Dracken laughed, "You're right. Now, let me explain. When I still was alive, I was educated in what you call Malfoy Manor. I knew that my father, Merian Malfoi, was the lover of Salazar Slytherin but didn't care since I loved the man like a second father. I always thought that my mother was dead. Only when both of them went to shadows did I discovered the truth: my grand-father, the only Godric Gryffindor, had put on his son a curse that had turned him half-female and able to carry children, and I was born of it, fathered by Salazar. For a time, I hated the three of them, and only wanted to take revenge but it was impossible for the curse didn't allow me to use common magic. Hopefully, I still had elemental magic and the gift of foreseeing the future that I had inherited from Salazar. One night, it showed me what I needed: I was going to be reborn, I didn't know how long after my time, but it wasn't a problem. By that moment, I had forgiven my two fathers and spent all my life making sure no one besides me was aware of their past relation and, more important, learning all about these magics I couldn't use because of the curse. Now that the spell has almost disappeared, you have a part of the power. I have the mind and the memory, and I'm going to pass them to you."

Breathing a long sigh, Draco absorbed what he'd been told, "There's one thing I don't understand: in this painting, you're my age, how can you remember the magic you learned as you were older?"

Dracken smiled at the question, "Because my real self cast a link between himself and ... me. I learned everything with him. In my dream, I saw myself there, in the school, so I had to infiltrate Hogwarts and find a way to wait for you. Not long before my death, the headmaster of Hogwarts wanted to thank me for my donations by making a painting of me. That was the last piece of my play: instead of letting them paint me, I gave them this painting to be placed where it is now. Two hundred years later, I disappeared from the wall, only to reappear in front of you, an hour ago."

Draco made an impressed face, "Pretty good plan."

"Yes, I'm rather proud of it."

"When will you pass me the memory?"

"When the moon is full. The magic it generates will prevent Dumbledore from sensing us."

Draco frowned, suspecting something he wouldn't like, "How could you know about him? You said your painting had disappeared till an hour ago," He repeated

"Easy: the painting was gone, but I not. I was a shadow, between life and death, and the Bloody Baron was my messenger. He was a friend of mine during my life. You may ask him if you doubt me."

"I will," he said, not reassured, "One more question," he added before going, "When I have your memories and mind, which one of us will command my body?"

He was willing to lend it for some time but not to give it up completely. If this affair resulted in being a mind in a body he couldn't command, he saw no interest in it.

"We're the same. If we had more time, we could talk and you'd see we have exactly the same mind. When you'll have my memories, it'll still be you, but you'll see some things differently because of the experience you'll have acquired. You'll be more mature, mentally and physically and most important, when you have all of your magic back, you will be much more powerful. That's why you'll have to be prudent, but no need to worry about it: with my mind in you, it will be like having two brains that will work under your command and small things like that will appear ... child's play. Have I answered your question?"

"Yes. Thank you. I have to go and see Pomfrey. I will see you when the next full moon rises."

Draco began to really enjoy his discoveries. After feeding a lie to Pomfrey and being cured, he went back to his dormitory. He was going to write to his father, but suddenly remembered the Snake. In no way was this half-man gonna learn about this! He put his quill back in its box, deciding against telling anyone.

Two days later, Potter had been attacked in the Department of Mysteries and his father caught. Not knowing what to do, he'd gone to the portrait and asked advice. He knew it was very un-malfoyish but he couldn't let his father be sent to Azkaban. After much discussing, Dracken had possessed Draco's body the time to cast a imperius. It had been torture for Draco to resist Weasley's taunts about Lucius' judgement. At the full moon, he'd gone to the portrait, entered it, and spent the night in himself's bed (I know the world doesn't exist, but it is the only one that really corresponds to what I'm referring to so...). Gross, it had first sounded. When he'd woken alone, he had the worst head-ache of his life. He was himself and he was another. He remembered things he knew he hadn't lived. He possessed long disappeared knowledge. A dark laugh had erupted in the corridor as he'd dressed, got out and magically hid the now empty painting. He'd felt alive but still slightly incomplete.

The end of the year had been common place: victory of the Gryffindors and blah-blah-blah. He hadn't care.

When his father had been released, Draco had made his mind clear to Lucius: it was Voldemort or him. He had needed five months to totally absorb and master his memories. And when Lucius's choice had been made, Charlie Weasley had produced the perfect opportunity for Draco to defy Voldemort and destroy his father's allegiance before the dark lord could learn about Lucius's treason. Draco had been extremely pleased by the extent of his father's loyalty, despite the man trying to act behind his back. Interestingly, the red-haired young man was also revealed as a good addition in Draco's plans...

"Where am I?" asked the red-haired man, still groggy despite his body recovering full health after Voldemort's torture.

"In Malfoy Manor," A voice he couldn't place answered. Suddenly realising what he'd been told, he rose with a start and his heart quickened. Merlin, why was his vision was so blurry?

"You've been out for a week. You should lie down some more so that your capacities are fully restored to your body."

The voice didn't sound menacing and he chose to follow the advice, as he couldn't do much more in his state. The other thing, he realised, he was... naked under the sheets, save for his pendant. That wasn't a good state to be in if danger occurred, especially after all that had happened to him during the week. After some time, the smoke of his sight began to take form and soon, he could see a small room, lighted by the white sun of a common winter day. A blond young man came to his right, which he assumed to be Draco Malfoy. He presented a glass.

"Drink it," The boy simply ordered.

Suspicious, Charlie caught the glass and hesitated. 'If they wanted to drug me, they could have done so in my sleep,' He thought, and drank. Relieved, he felt his muscles tightening and strength coming back. He looked at the blonde.

"Why am I here?"

Draco smirked, "Voldemort gave you to me as a sex-slave."

Charlie was horrified and it showed in his eyes, "What?! No way! Go to He..."

He couldn't add more as lips were pressed against his own, and a body crushed his on the bed. He tried to push but all strong he thought he was and all light the boy seemed, he also appeared stronger. Charlie went to punch the face on his, but hands seized his arms and maintained them above his head. As a knee stroke his crutch, he began to panic, memories coming back in strong waves; but the kissing stopped as unexpectedly as it had begun, and Draco was immediately out of reach, hand on the door's knob.

"You have clothes in the bathroom. I'll wait for you in the library. Ask Minty for the way, she's assigned to you."

Draco opened the door and was already out, when Charlie saw his head reappear, "Besides, it was a joke."

With this, Draco smiled and the door closed.

Charlie blinked and sighed of relief, "A joke? What a dreadful sense of humour!"

He got up, a sheet around his waist, dreading the idea of walking around naked. 'In case it was a joke to be a joke, you never know with this family of madmen,' he thought to himself. There were two doors in the room, and he went to the one Draco hadn't used. 'Bathroom. Perfect.' He spotted the clothes, fearing his own nudity, took a quick shower and dressed.

He decided to go to the library, despite the Draco danger. He had all the chances to be eaten alive by some monster or worse, to go back to the dark lord, if he tried to escape so it was surely not an option. Now that he was out of Voldemort's hands - he couldn't remember how but didn't care- he preferred not to go back to it. The horror it had been would be carved in his mind for life.

Out of the room, he inspected the corridors, and settled for acting adult, "Hum... Minty?"

A little she-house-elf apparated in front of him. "What may Minty do for mister?"

Hopefully, this one seemed saner that the one he'd met one time at an Order's reunion. What was his name already? Doppy? Unimportant.

"I'd like the way to the library, please."

"Of course mister. Please, mister follow Minty."

He was taken through a series of embroidered galleries, and the elf stopped at a royal-like door.

"Here it is, mister. Please, mister may enter," she added when opening to him.

He silently entered the room. There was only one word: magnificent. There were more books he'd ever seen, perfectly ordered, it seemed at first sight, and he took some time to go into ecstasies over the beauty of the place.

Then he caught Draco watching him from a sofa. A fire was burning in the chimney, making strange reflections in the boy's hair. The young man tapped his fingers next to himself, and Charlie had the bad feeling to be in one of Ginny's soap girl stories. Still, he took some steps and sat.

"So, I think you know who I am."

'I'd rather not,' he thought when nodding. "Why am I here?" he asked for the second time this day.

Draco smirked again and Charlie had to fight to not let his body instinctively retreat.

"I took you from Voldie. The junk wasn't happy. I think he wants you back and your head in a ribbonned box."

"And why would Draco Malfoy rescue me from his master?" He spat, disgusted.

That didn't seem the right thing to say as the boy grabbed him brutally by the shirt and brought his face next to his. "I. Have. No. Master." He accented on each word and the next thing Charlie knew, it was as if nothing had happened. Draco was smirking again, "I will not repeat it. Clear enough?"

Charlie caught his breath and muttered an approbation.

"Good. Now, if you really want to go back, I may take the old crook's place. I have some pretty good notions of torture," Draco added with a smile.

"No, I'm fine as I am. Thank you... for saving me." It had gone out better that he'd thought. After all, considering the relation their fathers had, he could be happy with the turn of events.

"To answer your question, I needed a pretext to destroy my father's allegiance to Voldemort. You were this excuse, and a lucky man: captured one week sooner or later, you'd have died."

A deep silence settled down in the library. Charlie watched Draco as the boy stared at him from head to toe. The feeling was disturbing but not overcoming and what with the life debt he was in, the least he could do was bare the sight. Draco's eyes fell on the pendant.

"You like dragons?"

Disturbed from his thoughts, Charlie blinked, "Yes, I work with them."

Draco's eyes opened large, "Oh! I remember you, now. You brought the dragons to Hogwarts two years ago for the Triwizard Tournament."

"I did," he nodded, smiling. Charlie was relieved. He'd feared for a moment the hatred Draco had for the Weasley family would match the enmity they felt for the Malfoy's one, but Draco's actions and speaking contradicted this theory. He wondered a second if Ron could have imagined all he narrated to them about their feud, but his young friend Hermione seemed too bright a girl to back up such lies. So? Maybe the blonde boy had a double personality. He eyed Draco. 'What may he be thinking just now?'

"That you're a strange family," The young answered casually.

"You heard my thoughts?!!"

"No, it showed on your face. I wondered how you, hotty, could be Weasel's brother."

Charlie gasped and frowned, "I am no 'hotty' thank you. I like girls and would rather my sexuality remain that way."

To his surprise, there was no uproar and Draco laughed..

"Really! I am not gonna eat you. No need to be so touchy!"

Charlie felt his face going hot as he remembered where he was and what he risked, "I'm sorry."

"No," Draco contradicted softly, "No, you're not sorry as you say. Gryffindors aren't sorry, they do not even apprehend this concept."

Charlie finally doubted the boy's sanity, "I assure you I know what it is to be sorry..."

"You think you're sorry? But didn't you only say this because you somewhat feared my reaction?"

The red-haired coughed slightly and averted the silver eyes, "Maybe yes..."

Draco's sight suddenly became thoughtful, "A Gryffindor remorseful. I never imagined I would live to see the day. Decidedly, you please me greatly, Charlie Weasley, in both body and mind."

Charlie took his time to observe the young man. How could it be he felt like a frightened child in front of this boy? He'd always considered himself as strong and mature, but Draco was more adult than he ever was. How could such a thing be possible? Harry was said to act grown-up, however never had Charlie had suffered this feeling of uneasiness when in his presence. The situation was disconcerting, and frightful.

"I'm flattered... truly."

He thanked Merlin for the calm in his voice back. As he'd just said, he really was flattered: it wasn't everyday a Malfoy complimented a Weasley, after all...

"We may now want to take interest in more important subjects," Draco began. When he'd got Charlie's full attention, he went on: "The whole world thinks you've been captured by Voldemort, nevertheless, only four people saw you : The Snake, Wormtail, my father and myself. It's been two weeks to this day you've disappeared. One more and, at the end of the holidays, you'll be classified as casualty of war."

"Why can't you simply let me go?" He wanted to go back to his family, feel safe as he had as a child after the horror he went through.

"Because it would be waging open war at Voldemort and I can't afford it yet."

"Still you said you took me from him..."

"With only the five of us, you included in the number, aware of it. He knows I won't bow in front of him and that my father chose me over him, but, as he's spying on Dumbledore, he's also aware that the man still thinks of me as an enemy. What Voldemort fears is the alliance I may conclude with the Order of the Phoenix. There is no risks of it happening soon, so he won't act upon my father's treason and it will remain a secret till one of us crack."

"Hmm... So I am to disappear... but what am I to do?"

He felt a tinge of guilt at the stress and desolation he'd put on his family.

"That depends on you. You may stay hidden in here, or play an active part in my war."

A choice to make. If he accepted to work with Draco, it was treason to his family and house, but wasn't destroying the Snake lord the most important? There was here a resistance Dumbledore didn't have: a Slytherin faction, one that thought the dark by the dark, one that had the advantage of secrecy, if really You-Know-Who decided not to reveal his group's splits.

"I'll work with you."

A smile illuminated Draco's features, "Good. Now this is settled, would you have lunch?"

After they'd eat en tête-à-tête, Draco guided him through on a horse tour of his lands. To Charlie's amazement, Draco was his height and possessed firm muscles he hid under ample robes. When asking about it, he'd been answered as long as it remained a secret, the better the surprise when revealed.

"I need someone in faction at Hogwarts," The blonde announced to his new recruit, "You have six months to prepare and apply for the position of Curses and Malediction's teacher."

"But," Charlie objected, "I'll need Polyjuice Potion, I can't go like this!"

"We thought about it: my father is preparing a dossier for you. He'll help you absorb your new personality and face so that you'll be in total symbiosis. Dumbledore is suspicious since Crouch and Mad-Eye, but when you're out of my father's claws, even your own mother won't be able to recognise you."

Charlie trembled: he wasn't reassured at all about what he was having to face and worse, work, with the Malfoy senior. If Draco already overawed him, what would it be with his father?

However, when meeting formally, the man was pleasant, and after some discussing, even nice to his arch-enemy's son. This was a side he'd always thought non-existent in Lucius Malfoy's mind and it perplexed him. Questioning Draco about this special treatment,

"I can't have old enmities in my way," explained the young man, not shocked or vexed at all of the uncertainty in his elders' relation, "He acts accordingly to it. On his part, your father is free to choose his way: ally... or foe."

Two days later, Draco mentioned he would have to corrupt a Gringott's goblin when going to open a bank account under his new name. During the week they spent together, they became close friends, mostly due to their common interest for dragons; and when Draco had been ready to go back to class,

"I can't accept. It's all that remains to you from your previous life."

"A dragon to another dragon. Consider it the mark of my allegiance to your cause."

Little did Charlie know the pendant would be the cause of a stay at the infirmary.

"Why didn't you defend yourself?" He asked when Draco had joined his father by the fireplace. If the blond could fight him back, Ron shouldn't have been a problem.

"I can't let them know about me yet. This year is to be free of my influence. For now, I still am the rotten whining child."

Three months later, he went to Gringotts and went past his brother, who had been promoted to the London unity. The man seemed so down, even passed four months of mourning, that Charlie wasn't able to cope long with the sight and remorse and immediately sent a letter to Hogwarts.

After two days of what he knew were Draco's investigations about Bill, he received the green light and went back to Diagon Alley. It took only some minutes to convince his brother he truly was alive, and even less for him to take part in the confidence.

The first day of summer holidays, Charlie and Bill met with Blaise, the what could be called first in command, and the Bloody Baron. How the ghost could leave Hogwarts, they didn't know and the spirit never cared to explain.

In the end, Draco was pleased with Charlie's initiatives and the Baron became his mentor. When applying for the job, he'd been taken to McGonagall, Dumbledore being absent. His mission had been a piece of cake: he'd been his best student and knew how to coax and handle her.

'Out of ten months of service, I never regretted my saving Charlie's life,' thought Draco as he posed at the last door, 'He served me well, it is time to reward him.'

- - - - - - - - - -

It's been one month now, and they'd placed magical sensors around the Malfoy estate. The same ones that are used at Gringotts, the best in the world. Monitors were packed in a secret room of the Ministry and tracked every signal of magic that escaped the lands. A group of spell identifiers and curse-breakers were working alongside with the aurors, his own son among them. Gringotts had secretly allowed the Ministry to borrow him for this special job. There, in front of his desk, he waited for the trace of dark magic that he would use to bring his enemies down. And here he was, faced with the blank screens, one day after the other. How was it possible they had detected nothing yet? With captors like the ones they were using on this case, no magic could go unnoticed. The Malfoys surely used dark magic on a daily rate, they had to! They were the evil personified, the overpowered demons that commanded over their estate as reactionary and hidebound despots, through sorrow and misery, disaster and maleficence. Prejudiced against everything and everyone that didn't meet their definition of pure-blood, they immorally and savagely distressed, tormented, persecuted, tortured and killed in excruciating pain. To kill couldn't even be used to describe such atrocities, for the butcheries they took part in had no name. These massacres were supervised by another abomination of their unprincipled, foul and crooked tarnished world: the dark lord Voldemort. Such being, no, such thing should never have even been mentioned among the living.

Merlin helped, in this eerie silence, a noise stirred the air. Arthur Weasley's ear quivered and his chair went flying as the ring went on again and again. Finally! He called for the others and soon, many were ganged in the office, studying the screens.

"Assuredly, that's not white magic," Affirmed one of the spell-identifiers.

"Elemental either," Went on Bill.

"This line there resembles dark magic; an entrails-expelling curse, to be more precise."

"As long as it's dark, it fits me. Could it be something else?"

"That looks like no other known spell, that's for sure."

Forgetting any prudence in view of the wonderful news, Weasley shouted: "Perfect! William, write a report; Bill, you come with us. Moody, go and join Dumbledore by the fireplace. Aurors! We're going! Today is our day!"

They all apparated outside the Malfoy's grounds. It was dark and silent, almost peaceful; but this adjective didn't conform with the very nature of its owner: the lands were as soiled as its rulers, hiding their filthy and impure essence under elegant disguising and gentleman faking. Emboldened by a non-existent reaction to their presence, they entered the property, ran to the large manor and made a raid inside. They were immediately accosted by a house elf, horrified of this breakthrough.

"Where is Lucius Malfoy?" Authoritatively demanded Weasley. He had full power on this case and intended to use them.

"Master tells Minty he will not see anyone tonight," Quivered the frightened lithe elf.

"He will come and see us nonetheless! Where is he?" Insisted Weasley

"Minty can't tell. Master tells Minty he wi..."

"There is noise coming from underground," interrupted an auror.

Every furrowed brow suddenly disappeared from Weasley's face and he was a good twenty years younger. He turned back to the elf and ordered: "Take us to him!"

But the little creature stared at nothing and stayed where she was. An auror snapped his fingers, making the elf react who, to their surprise, smiled at them, saying: "Please, Misters follow Minty. Minty shall take Misters to the catacombs."

"The catacombs?" Murmured an auror to a work-mate, "Better be prudent, in case they use them as cells..." The other approved, then they proceeded after Weasley through the dim corridors.

Did they never used lamps in there? Wondered Weasley. The dark crept up around them. As they walked deeper, shadows lengthened, leeched the walls, moved and circled them. They slithered out, lashing their claws on their robes.

Heartening up, they saw a bigger source of light. Two torches illuminated a majestic door, making it look like the entrance of a pagan temple. Noise and gothic music could be heard through the magnificent piece of wood. Their spirit at their highest, their eyes glinting from the nearness of their aim, aurors readied their wands, and entered.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"You have to remember," said Dumbledore to Ron, "Mr Malfoy passed over everything, the feud between your families, the enmity between your houses, to consider it with a new eye. Your father just put them back into place. The price for your sister's well-being will raise to dizzying heights."

He then opened the door and entered, as the voices stopped. Harry made to follow him but...

"Don't move!"

Every single person in the room froze and looked as Draco made his way, smiling, to a not less frozen Harry.

"Surely you do not want to die, do you Harry?" He inquired kindly.

The boy's eyes rounded, "I'd rather not."

"Fine. So I suggest you stay in the antechamber. You can see everything from here and I assure you, you're more secured. You three idem," He added for the other Gryffindors.

"Why did you let Dumbledore enter, then? And why is it dangerous in the... this other room?" asked the black-haired boy, voicing what everyone wondered.

"Ritual room. That is the name of this place. And I let Dumbledore enter because he did it too quickly for me to react. Had he knocked, I would have told him the same I told you."

"Oh..." Harry cast a glance at Mr Weasley, who was wondering why they were all there.

At that time, Moody ran through the main entrance, saw the headmaster and understood he was too late. He came near Weasley and asked what had happened.

When the red-haired man didn't answer, Lucius looked at Draco who had never ceased smiling, came forward and explained, "Very simple thing: we were celebrating my son's birthday and you made a raid in my house. Aurors, then Dumbledore. I hope you have both warrant and reason, this time."

"You can cut the crap, Malfoy. Here is the warrant for arrest," Proved Weasley, showing the piece of paper with the Ministry's seal. "Both you and your son will come with us to the Ministry."

Aurors went towards Malfoy and made to grab Draco by the arms when Zabini interposed himself between them.

"Draco will go nowhere," he said menacingly, his right hand on his interior pocket, ready to take out his wand. At his words, the Slytherin population of the room moved in their direction, as to emphasise the point they would all protect their friend if need was.

The face to face between adults and youths could have lasted long, had Lucius not intervened, "I told you 'both warrant and reason' Weasley. Yet, you provided only the first," He remarked.

The official then took out of his robes another parchment and handed it to his nemesis. Lucius broke the seal, mentally read it, and gave it back calmly.

"These accusations are not founded. The study was made in haste and by an incompetent. To mistake whatever you detected for an entrails-expelling curse is laughable. There was no dark magic in this house tonight."

Actually, some smirks were appearing in the room, mostly at the adding of 'tonight' in the sentence.

"If you've nothing to hide, you won't mind a magical search, surely?" Even if aurors were the losers of the warrant duel, Mad-Eye still wouldn't let such an opportunity pass. "We have here a curse-breaker. He could do the job in no time," He insisted once more, showing Bill to the lands' lord.

"Another Weasley?" Lucius said as if he hadn't heard the question, "Have I seen all of them or is there some others left? By the way, how is that little girl of yours?" He casually asked the father of the mentioned one.

Startled by the unexpected question, the man fumed, "That is none of your business! Bill! Run your investigation!"

The young man faced the vampire and slightly bowed, casting at the same time a glance at Draco and Atus, who had joined the blond next to the Gryffindors, intent gaze unseen by his father. "I need your authorisation to begin," He informed the Manor's owner.

Lucius smiled, "But, feel free, boy. You have it."

"Thank you sir."

Weasley senior raged at his son's courtesy but kept himself in line. The mark of his eyebrows clearly showed he hadn't foreseen Malfoy's compliance and it intrigued him.

'He knew the aurors would come,' thought Dumbledore, 'and what with the look Bill sent Draco... or Cast. May they know each other? Assuredly. How could they have come into contact? Bill would never betray his family, or so I think. He liked his brother too much to associate with potential death eaters. Or he knows something about Voldemort I ignored. Lucius also knows about Ginny but that is no surprise, Severus and Cast ought to have informed them. That takes me back to: who is Cast? About this dark magic ... There was none in this room, of that, I am sure. Still, Arthur wouldn't have falsified an inquiry's report, especially this one: too many risks that Malfoy would bring them to the law. What could they have mistaken for a entrails-expelling curse? Last thing, Draco should be unhappy about the ceremony being interrupted, yet he shows none of it. No way could they have had the time to do it. Well, let's see what Bill found."

As he cogitated, the ex-Gryffindor had quickly moved around the room, casting little spells on the walls, the stone ground, some objects, and studied the variation of his wand's tip colour. Finally, he came back to the group, "Transcendental magic," He announced.

Whispers went among the aurors.

"What is transcendental magic?" Dumbledore heard Ron ask his she-friend.

"A long forgotten magic that mastered time and space," She answered easily.

'Let's trust Hermione to know that. How long is it since the last time I heard about it? So that was the 'other magic' Severus mentioned in Draco's learning. No wonder he couldn't recognise it. How could Bill, by the way? Transcendental magic isn't taught, even to spell-identifiers, and he is a curse-breaker. The books telling its detection's ways are so rare... That strengthens my idea that he knows Draco. But how could the boy learn about it? And master it, no less! And what about... The ceremony! I understand. Draco knew the aurors would come at the first sign of prohibited magic, surely by Bill; so he used transcendental magic to accelerate the speed of time inside the catacombs' walls, permitting the ceremony to be performed naturally. By the moment the aurors came, it was finished and he'd stopped his time curse. But what he said to Harry: not to enter since it was unsafe. No... He hasn't stopped the curse! It's still running, I feel it faintly in all the room, but we can't see it. Time is the same in the ante-chamber. What is the difference? What defines the line between safe and unsafe?'

The aurors were still unsure of the behaviour to adopt. They eyed Weasley, waiting for an order. "Transcendental magic is to be reported to the Ministry. You will follow us to the office," The official finally ordered, backed up by Mad-Eye.

'Here we have such a wonderful occasion to bring down the Malfoys.' Deliberated Dumbledore, 'for a more advanced investigation would bring out traces of dark magic. Yet, if I let them use it, none of us will ever come out of this place alive. It looks like we have lost for the second time, still that may be the moment for a first move toward them.'

"This will not be needed," he announced, "There is absolutely no law concerning this magic. A report will suffice."

"What?" Shouted Weasley, "Which side are you on, Dumbledore?"

"He's on ours!"

All eyes turned to the red-haired boy. "Dad, stop this! Ginny got attacked at the castle and we can't wake her, there is no time for this!"

Dumbledore observed Bill panicking at the news of his sister's state, then turning toward Cast, sending him an reproaching look. A later discussion with the curse-breaker became indispensable.

"Ginny... Malfoy! You knew it! Aurors, arrest..."

"Arthur Weasley!" Roared Dumbledore, his words echoing darkly in the catacombs, "You will stop this madness this instant! Stop accusing at random: they were warned by Severus. Your daughter needs you, go to your wife and bring her to the castle."

The man in question was standing with mouth agape, and it didn't close at the light laugh that raised after the eruption.

The headmaster turned to Draco who smiled broadly, "Fine, old man! If you insist that much, I will consider your request." His face clouded and his features hardened, his voice getting dull, deep and grave. "By all means, I am in no mood to go on. I've had enough of this masquerade. Lucius! Make them go before I kill."

On the strength of this statement, he walked to the main entrance where the doors opened to let him pass, and got out.

All stared at his departure, not uttering a sound. The boy had menaced them, no less. Of course, with the curse he had had on the room, he could allow himself the pleasure. But there had been none in his voice, only warning. He should have hit his limit of acceptance. After all, aurors were his enemies. Hopefully, when Draco had passed the threshold, Dumbledore had felt the spell vanishing, meaning they could go freely. Eerie silence was broken by the vampire, "I suggest you go away. I don't want bloody corpses in my house."

Aurors and Gryffindors departed dumbfounded.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

An hour later, a part of the Order was united in the Room of Requirement, which had appeared as a council chamber; and Dumbledore had related to them about the Clan and Draco's powers, forgetting intently the part he suspected Bill played in it. He would have to talk to the young man himself before informing his hot-blooded parents and brothers. Ginny had been let under Madame Pomfrey's care, after they were reassured no one else could harm her.

"So the ferret is Slytherin's heir after all," Commented Fred.

"He really talked to you this way? I would have punch his face!" Added George.

"And you would have worsened the problem," Reproached Professor McGonagall. "What I would like to know is: who is this professor Cast? When he came for the teacher's job, he seemed perfect to me."

"And he is," Maintained the Headmaster, looking subtly at Bill who was sited next to her, "Atus Cast is a fine teacher. I will explain it one more time: the Clan isn't our enemy, not for now. Arthur and Molly, if you want to save your daughter, you would better put your differences aside. You will need the help of a Slytherin, at a time or another."

"By the way, professor, why don't we simply go and ask Draco?" Inquired Harry, "He accepted to help Ron last time." As he finished his sentence, he regretted it.

"What do you call him?" Interrogated Mrs Figg, eyebrows raised.

"The right way," cut in Dumbledore, "Harry is befriending Slytherins as some of you should do. Myself would like to have Severus back. I lack his conversation and Slytherinish point of view. What you say is true Harry, still it was before his house was invaded and himself menaced of prison..." He let the end in suspense.

"We should try nonetheless, see if that can help Ginny," Insisted Bill.

Harry glanced at his friend's brother, as to say something but shut back his mouth. Dumbledore eyed the young man carefully. 'Of course, you wouldn't let your sister be harmed.' "Fine then. I don't see any reason not to let you. Since I don't think Draco will be very inclined into hearing your parents out right now, you should go along with Harry and Ron to talk to him. Moreover, you will be taken to the dungeons by Remus and Moody. As you all noticed, already three students were attacked: Ron, then Harry and Ginny. I also have strong suspicions that some Slytherins were assaulted yet I cannot be sure."

This time, as Harry's eyes lit, Dumbledore didn't let go of the hint. "Yes Harry?"

"Hum," the Gryffindor had apparently not intended to voice out his thoughts, "Two things. The first, when I was in the dungeons, three weeks ago, I was going to go out and get back to the dorms when Draco hold me back, saying it could be dangerous to be out at night. He said I could get killed. The second dates from when Ron was attacked. I had asked of he knew the culprit and his answer was 'not exactly, but I know the spell and the antidote'. That's all."

"And what about this thing wandering in the castle, this shadow?" Recalled Figg, "Couldn't it be that which attack them?"

"That is a possibility," admitted the headmaster. "I requested of Seamus Finnigan to place a creation of his in all corridors. If something had emitted even the slightest noise in a perimeter of ten meters around one of his tracers, it would have been detected and followed. Still, the shadow, even if discerned by his characteristic wind sound, couldn't be tracked down. But for now, our priority is to be Ginny. Remus, I'd like to have a word with you before you depart."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

First: Harry and Mad-eye, then the two Weasley brothers and finally himself. In this order were advancing toward the Slytherin dungeons, not knowing what they would find. Had the students come back from Malfoy Manor already or would they be out for another few hours? The parents' letter had asked for 'a night out', so their children were allowed out till the rising of the sun.

Remus remembered his discussion with Dumbledore. Was the old man right? Could have Bill pact with the Malfoys? Of course, when hearing this, it seemed absurd, yet what did they know about the young man? He'd been gone to Egypt for years when they had only heard of him occasionally or seen of during his holidays. When he'd been transferred to the Londoner section of Gringotts, he'd frequently come to the Order's meeting. Then Charlie had disappeared and Bill had put all his efforts in bringing down the dark lord. Of all the Weasley family, Bill had suffered the worst: Charlie and him had always been so close. How many times had they been seen, younger, plotting together and telling themselves secrets. They were the eldest Weasleys. When Charlie had gone to Romania, Bill had visited him more than once, and when finally settling down in Egypt, his brother had reversed the roles. Almost like twins, still they were so different. But April had come and suddenly, Hell had broken loose for Molly Weasley.

The poor woman had looked at her third son betraying his family, then her first getting marked on the death list, her second son mourning and working himself to death. She had endured everything. She had not been prepared for the distance Bill would take from them. His mind was elsewhere, his thoughts wandering, he got out in the evening and came back in the morning. She had consoled herself by imagining he had some romance, yet had been deceived when confronting him. Charlie was in his mind. What had happened? What secret did Bill know that they ignored?

The company stopped; they had arrived to the dungeons without encountering danger.

"Does someone knows the password?" asked Mad-eye.

"Millennium," Informed Moody, having been told by Dumbledore some minutes before.

The portrait door opened and they entered. Cast and Zabini were playing chess in front of the fire, observed by the Bloody Baron. They stopped when the ghost spotted the intruders to them.

"So, you're finally here? I wondered when you'd show up," Commented the Slytherin student.

"You were waiting for us?" Inquired Moody, suspicious.

"Of course. What with the Weasley girl case, some of you were bound to come. Cast?" He turned to the teacher.

Atus was watching Bill, and their eyes were discussing alone. At last, Cast sighed, "It may be time, after all."

Did that made sense?

"We came to see Draco," explained Harry.

"He's not here. He'll be back before the break of dawn," answered Zabini, "Baron, you stay here and look after the children. Awake Pansy if need is. Cast, let's go with them."

"Why going? I'd rather say it here," Almost whined Cast.

"If you want to reveal it, then at least make it properly," Reproached the student.

"Boy, I hate insinuations. You will explain here and now. I also do not like the way you talk to your teacher," Cut in Mad-eye, his false eye glowering at Zabini.

"And I suggest you take back those words, old man. Let me remind you who needs who in this. Yes, Cast, I know," he added at a movement of the teacher's lips, "Let's go then, and no more menacing, or we stop everything."

Not understanding a thing, they went back the inverse way they had come. Cast and Bill were walking first, close to the point of touching, like old friends, and Remus could scent the need of touch raising of their bodies. Could they be lovers? No, for he would smell interactions in their odours. What, then? And what would the young man reveal when arriving at the Room of Requirement? So many secrets, and yet so few answers. One among the others was: what had happened to Narcissa Malfoy? The woman had mysteriously disappeared two days after Charlie had. The family had formally mourn for her, yet without feeling. Surely they knew something. The Order's conclusion had been that Voldemort was unhappy about something Lucius had done and had killed her in retaliation, but never had Severus heard anything from the death-eaters that could confirm it. And now, Draco was revealed the Slytherin heir. Why had he done nothing to avenge his mother? So many mysteries...

Bill opened he door to the Room of Requirement.

"Where is Malfoy?" Asked Figg when they were all sitting.

"He's not at the castle yet. You'll have to wait. We're here for other matters," Answered Zabini unkindly. Remus felt the young one's hate of the woman. Of course, she had been the professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts during their sixth year and had been particularly harsh on the Slytherins. Figg fumed, but Dumbledore beckoned her to calm down.

"Fine. What do you want?" Inquired the headmaster calmly.

Cast coughed slightly to catch their attention and looked quickly in Arthur and Molly's direction. "I have some things to tell you."

Silence had fallen. The two addressed ones had surprised faces, and Dumbledore's attention was rising, his interest aroused.

Cast took a small flask out of a pocket, only added "I am deeply sorry for everything," And drank.

Then, before their eyes, his features changed, his skin darkening. Eyes from blue to brown and hair from black to red, there stood Charlie Weasley.

Many mouths were gaping and the faces of those who weren't had the same expression they would have if they had been. When Dumbledore had told him his suspicions, had he thought of this? Two false teachers in three years of distance, that ought to be a record. How come they hadn't detect it? Easy. No one had ever seen Atus Cast. Where was the real one? More importantly: how could Charlie be alive? Hadn't he been captured by Voldemort?

"Charlie?" Tempted Molly with a tiny voice.

"Yes mum. It's me," The young replied hesitantly.

"How?" began darkly her husband, "How could you let us in this pain! When you were alive! How could..."

"Arthur! Shut up!"

To Remus's surprise, it wasn't Dumbledore but Molly that had spoken. The woman was crying her eyes out of joy. She went to her son and clasped him in her arms, apparently gripping him tightly enough to kill him.

"Weasley! Breathe."

All in the room jumped at the new voice except Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled. "Mr Malfoy. We were waiting for you."

"Malfoy!" Arthur had come back to his senses when the blond had addressed him. "What did you do to my son?"

The young man took the time to sit at a chair that had appeared from nowhere, thanks to the powers of the Room.

"First thing: I do no like people menacing me. Sit back. All of you."

Reluctantly, the Weasleys agreed, surely reminding they needed the boy. Molly had to let go of her son who joined Bill and Draco, satisfying mildly this need to be close to his brother. Figg and Mad-eye had to be glared at by Dumbledore to execute themselves.

"Tell me, Weasley, do you like puzzles?"

"What? What sort of question is that?!!" Nearly shouted Arthur, red with anger. Zabini laughed up his sleeves, ostensibly knowing what Malfoy mentioned.

"I asked you a question," Calmly repeated the young man, crossing his arms and legs. Arthur calmed enough to answer negatively.

"Then stop accusing. I spared you the difficult task of a bodily one."

Arthur looked at his eldest son, realisation in his eyes. His teeth cracked and his fists closed as he stared at the ground. "I suppose I should thank you then." This ought to have been hard to say. He, that had always hated the Malfoys, suddenly found himself needing them to save his only daughter and thanking one of them for rescuing his first son.

"Let's say I won't impose this task on you. The fact you remotely thought of it is enough to my ego," smiled Malfoy, "Blaise! I had told you to wait for me," He blamed.

"Yes," agreed the Slytherin, "but you added this would bore you."

Draco smirked, "You, I know why I keep you at my side."

"How did you come upon Charlie?" Requested Harry, interrupting boldly any further dialogue.

Malfoy turned to the green-eyed boy and smiled to him, "Pure hazard. I went to Voldemort for my father and came upon him. Another question? Ask what you want now, when I'm in a good mood. You won't have this chance next time. I reserve myself the right not to answer some of them, though."

"Will you help us save Ginny?" Pleaded Molly with begging eyes. It was obvious her opinion of the Malfoys had radically changed at the news of his first son being alive. Wonderful news it seems to be to Dumbledore, for the old man observed the present ones interacting with a smiling face.

"Truly, I do not want to help her. I'd use my magic, but and I don't want to..." All faces were blank and Charlie's eyes were imploring. Draco tended his hand to touch the red hair in a kind gesture, surprising everyone in the room, especially when the young man caressed the hand with his head. "But! I'd like to see you smile, for a change. Plus, that would get on the junk's nerves. So I'll do it."

Sighs of relief filled the air and the mood lightened again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I have some questions of my own, if you would agree."

"Dumbledore... Well, ask, I'll improvise."

"First: what did you do with the potion?"

"The potion? The one from the vaults, you mean? I modified it and drank it."

"You drank it?" The headmaster repeated, dumbfounded, "It was a potentially dark brewing..."

'How could he have drunk that? Well, he said he modified it. Still, this ought to have drained his body and mind... Oh, I remember. So that was why you were so ill ten days ago. You sure are quick to recover,' Thought the old man.

"Yes," the boy grinned, "but it was a pretty good investment."

"Fine, if you say," Dumbledore said, resigned, "Second: where is Severus?"

Charlie coughed when Bill and Zabini smirked and Draco seemed amused, "He's at the Manor. Won't be back before a time. Some problems to settle, you see?"

Dumbledore's eyes rounded just enough for Moony to catch it, 'At the manor? Lucius forgave him? And what with the faces? Oh... Hum. How could I forget? Of course. I had thought this relation had stopped long ago. Well, it seems it didn't. Let's close the subject. Severus has enough reproach motives against me as it is.' "Yes, I see. Hum. Third: where did you master Transcendental Magic?"

"Ah! That question shall I not answer. Little secret of mine. You don't mind?"

'It would have been too perfect if he had answered...' "No. Should we take care of Ginny, now?"

Draco pouted as only a spoiled child could, "Fine! I'll do it! Let's go then, I'd like to have some sleep after it."

Dumbledore's lips curved. "We're going Saturday, you'll have plenty of time to sleep through the morning," He told the boy, amused.

"Yeah," Spoke Draco ironically as he got up and left, followed by almost everyone, "And during the time, you'll send the old harpy to take points off Slytherin. Where is she, by the way?"

'The old harpy?' "If you mean Minerva, she's currently sleeping."

"Sleeping? You see! You sent her resting for her to be in good form today!"

The headmaster was enjoying himself: this boy, who had menaced them not two hours ago was now sulking like a five year old. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Harry's grin. As for the Weasleys, including Charlie and Bill, who were surely not anymore used to this childish side of the young man than the others, they were making signs that clearly indicated Draco was mental.

They arrived at the infirmary, Poppy got out to warn them not to make any noise and Malfoy turned to Zabini, "Blaise, you go up. I'll join you soon, this won't take long."

'Ah. Back to the serious tone...' thought Dumbledore.

The Slytherin inclined the head to show his approbation, and went away. "From the moment I enter to the moment I am out, I don't want any of you in there," he showed the infirmary's door, "You would interfere the process."

"You're a magus?!" exclaimed Harry.

"Me? No..." Draco smiled again, "Even my powers have some limits. A friend of mine is coming."

'Decidedly, that is seduction or my name is not Albus. One more thing to take care of: Harry not getting hurt. Or do I let him deal with it first? I'd rather let things evolve a little before intervening, in case there is no reason to fear for him. This year, Draco may reveal himself as a kind one and maybe even on our side, but he still is a dangerous opponent, master of dark magic, and what with this perfect comedy he played till now, I can't be sure. When and where did I begin to underestimate you, boy?'

"Ah! He's there," Indicated Draco with non-dissimulated enthusiasm.

Coming through a wall, was the Bloody Baron. All eyes opened wide. "You're a magus?!!" Charlie was amazed at.

"Seems like so. Didn't suspect, huh, boy?"

The twins' ears stirred. It was the first time they had ever heard the Baron talk to someone this way, what to add when this someone was a Gryffindor, and their own brother no less.

"Let's go then," Ordered Draco, and boy and ghost entered, immediately closing the door, under the anxious stares of the Weasley family.

After some minutes, when it was obvious they would know nothing of what was happening inside, Dumbledore turned to Charlie, "Why don't you explain a little, while he's in there?" He kindly asked. For what Draco had accepted to reveal and what he'd understand by himself, Charlie had gone through a lot under Voldemort's hands, and was deeply indebted to Draco.

"Yes, I'd like to know why you work with the ferr... with him," Quickly rectified Fred, clearly holding back his anger and reproaches.

"Fine," sighed his brother, surrendering, "I'll tell you." He sat on the floor, soon joined by Bill, who showed the most beautiful brotherhood spirit Dumbledore had ever see. These two ones would have done absolutely everything for one another, even if that included losing their entire family in the process. The headmaster conjured chairs for everyone, who were not surprised by this display of magic as they were all used to demonstrations of the great wizard's power.

"It was the beginning of the school holidays and almost Christmas. I was planning to come back to England for the end of the year when, the day before my depart, the dark lord attacked the dragon reserve. Death-eaters killed almost everyone, and took some of us, 'to play', they said. That was when He recognised me, or rather suspected who I was. He changed his plans... tortured me for days... He wanted to send me back in pieces when he'd have been finished..."

Charlie was looking only at the floor, evoking his harsh memories. Dumbledore felt pity for the young, another victim of Voldemort's madness.

"I had passed out one more time when I awoke in Malfoy Manor. Draco had gone to Voldemort for his father, and had taken me from the dark lord at the same time. I owe him my life and sanity..."

He couldn't sleep. The recent events were playing round and round in his head. Draco Malfoy had defied Voldemort. What secret was behind this behaviour? He'd been engaged by someone they always thought destined to a death-eater career. He was to work with Lucius Malfoy of all people, and to do no less than spy on Dumbledore? Was he getting mad to accept such job? And Draco had saved him! Charlie Weasley! The son of a man that had tried to bring his family down for years! Why?!

The darkness of the night enveloped his room, this beautiful apartment that had been attributed to him for as long as he would need. The furniture of this single room ought to cost more than the whole Burrow. He was so tired, yet his eyes didn't want to close. The fear had a hold on him.

Hours passed, and sleep finally won over him. His mind wandered to his family, to Bill. How was Bill? His little brother would be devastated at the news of his death. If only he could spare him the dolour... He would give everything. His little brother, almost his twin, the one he shared his soul with. He would find a way to tell him. Anything would do. With this good resolution in mind, he awoke.

"I'm delighted to see you're better, little Weasley."

This part contained dark materials, and a rape scene. I deleted it. If you really want the completed fic, sent me a mail at [email protected].

A hand caressed his hair, slowly and kindly, and he could only cry more. A piece of cloth sponged up his sweat. Through the diminishing steam, he noticed concerned blue eyes. Suspicious, he looked around. He was in his small room, in Malfoy Manor.

"You had a nightmare," Explained Draco, as to reassure him it was nothing more than a horrible dream. This particular night, it was, but it hadn't always been like that. The memories still all too clear in his mind, he pressed fingers on his forehead.

"They won't go away like this, you know," A voice fondled the silence.

Charlie sighed profoundly in his closed hands. "I know, yet I still hope."

He felt a figure moving on the blankets and saw Draco take place near his own body. "Wha..."

He couldn't say more as the blonde carefully laid and dandled him. There was so much warmth in these strong arms, they radiated fondness and care. "I am no child," He faintly resisted.

"I know," was the kind reply, "and I do not consider you so." But the boy didn't let go of him.

Abandoning a fight that never really began, Charlie cuddled up to the young's body, wondering where went the thirteen years that separated them.

During the next days, many nights did he awoke, and as many nights did he dropped off to sleep again in the protective arms.

An evening, as he was scanning the sky for non-existent dragons, Draco had showed up and sat next to him. For a long time had they remained silent, enjoying the howl of the wintry wind.

"You'll see them again, not immediately, but soon."

The blonde was staring at him, kindness in the eyes. Charlie knew who he talked about without the need of mentioning, "I know, but what will they think of me when learning about my treason?"

"Treason? You're helping them there. If our methods are different, our aims will come back to the same action: bring down Voldemort. The man may be thinking otherwise and hoping for a collaboration of all Slytherins, but I won't let them sink. He did enough harm to my house's reputation. It may be time to show the world who Salazar Slytherin was really like..."

"Why do you let me loose? I am a Gryffindor, and a Weasley. Why wouldn't I escape from here?"

He wanted, and needed to know what was on Malfoy's mind, this strangeness he sensed whenever he was near him, the perception of someone that was in full control of this situation.

The younger one smirked, "You couldn't if you tried. Besides, the moment I saw you in the forest, you pleased me. I knew you could be trusted. Would you deceive me?"

"You trust me?" It was the strangest thing he had ever heard. Draco Malfoy, trusting Charlie Weasley.

"What do you want me to say? I have a soft spot for sexy young men," Draco slightly shrugged at the revelation of this weakness of his.

The crude words increased Charlie's bad feeling, "Why didn't and don't you take advantage, then? I own you that at least." There was no bitterness in his voice, he was speaking open-heartedly, looking at the ground. He couldn't admit it was him making such a proposition. To carry such a life debt was frightening. Gentle fingers raised his chin.

"Do you think so low of me as to think I would take an unwilling one to my bed?"

Draco was smiling at him with tiredness on his face. Such regard. How old was the boy? It couldn't be possible he was only sixteen years old. His eyes looked like they had already seen so much. Sometimes, his expression was the one of an old man, reminding Charlie of Dumbledore.

"I may be praising a harsh politic but I do not like such displays of primitive violence. Voldemort is in the wrong on this."

Charlie reddened at the unsaid reproach, "I'm sorry. I didn't thing mean of you, I just..."

"I know," interrupted the kind voice softly, "No need for excuses, there was no offence taken."

The red-hair man still bowed the head to prove he cared, and appreciated the comprehension.

He stopped his narration. He had purposefully missed out in his relation of the events all that touched to sex, in both action and speech. No need to worry and burden them further. He was fine, now, had overcome the memories, thanks to the Malfoy family, the Baron, and Bill. To leave them out of reach would prove better for everyone.

His public had listened carefully to every word, ashamed of the anger they had felt for their friend and brother when he had suffered this much. Who were they to blame him for taking shelter where he found it?

"Hum," beckoned Harry, "I have a question of my own, if you don't mind it."

As Charlie didn't reply and waited for him to go on, "It's been some time now that I wonder: what happened to Draco's mother?"

Rustles indicated Harry wasn't the only one interested by the matter, but before the red-hair could answer...

- - - - - - - - - - -