The Snake's Clan

"She's dead. Let her rest in the peace she does not deserve."

Harry turned toward the voice. Draco had emerged from the Infirmary, closely followed by the Bloody Baron. Harry blushed at his indiscretion, still he Gryffindorishly insisted, "Voldemort killed her?"

Draco sighed profoundly, eyes underlined by black bags. The ritual of calling for a magus certainly wasn't a simple one, and the boy, however strong he was, had every right to be tired.

"If you prefer it this way, then let's say he killed her. Indirectly he did..." The blonde took some steps toward the Gryffindor, and caught gently a brown lock of hair. "Less the hair, you look so much alike... I wonder if the centaurs had seen you in the stars. And why did they see him? What had he done wrong, Asmodeus, for them to deprive him of his nature?"

None understanding a thing, they didn't utter a word, but Dumbledore waited for the one called to answer. Draco seemed so exhausted, beyond any tiredness of the body. Whatever had taken place in the Infirmary, his mind had gone through a bad time. As no one replied, the boy turned to the ghost.

If the Baron ever was considered pale, the colour he had reached at this point was more than transparent. His face exposed his own fatigue. He looked almost sadly over the young man, and silently mouthed two words: "He lived".

They stared at each other for some time more, no person in the corridor daring interfering.

"I'm tired. This may have been too much in one evening. I'll rest a little."

And Draco went away.

"I suggest you also go to sleep," counselled the ghost to Charlie, "You would not want to be asleep on your feet when your sister wakes in the morning."

The red-hair nodded and left them, along with Bill. Letting their questions in abeyance, all went to sleep.

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

Saturday, October the 31st

Harry awoke in his bed and discovered the sun already high in the sky. Glancing at his watch that laid on his night-table, he abruptly got up. It was two P.M.! Turning his head toward the other bed, he noticed all were empty. He quickly showered, dressed and finally went down the stairs.

The common room was in uproar. Tonight was the Halloween's feast! They were allowed to stay up past midnight. Walking some steps more, he came upon his favourite friends' group. Among them, Neville was hugging Ginny. Harry saluted everyone.

"Well, you seemed to sleep well, mate. Couldn't wake you to go and see Ginny in the Infirmary," related Ron.

Harry smiled bitterly, embarrassed.

"Do not worry, Harry," Ginny kindly spared Harry, "I do not mind. They narrated me all your yesterday's adventures. For my part, I remember nothing. Dumbledore thinks Malfoy erased my memories."

"Really?" he wondered," Why would he do that?"

He took place in a sofa, next to Seamus, which was playing with one of his tracers.

"We do not know. If you want, Dumbledore will have a talk with Snape soon. We may go and learn what he has to say," Informed the latter.

"And you, what do you have with your nut, you keep fiddling around with it since you got down," Remarked Ron.

"I am not fiddling with it," contradicted Seamus, "I'm trying to understand why it didn't followed the Shadow."

"Oh... That's right Dumbledore asked you to detect it," remembered Harry, "So? Any idea?"

"Truly, yes. A thin one, but it's still a lead. I think Shadow is immaterial, or rather can become immaterial. That explains how he can attack students and disappear so quickly after."

"Attack?" Harry was surprised, "You think it's him which attack us?"

All looked at him, Hermione a glint in her eyes.

"Who else could it be? He has all the characteristics," pleaded Ron, "Plus, Dumbledore is suspicious about him."

'Well. That's right there are many coincidences. But didn't he saved me? Or does he want to kill me? The question is 'What is he?'. Is he really a dark creature, or rather... I'll have to talk to Draco about him,. See if he reacts,' thought the green-eyed young man. He nodded in understanding at his friends.

"If you want to hear Snape out, I suggest we go now, they won't wait for us," Advised Hermione.

Catching the hint, they all got up and headed for Dumbledore's office. As Harry's stomach was rumbling, they made a detour by the kitchens.

Finally passing the Gargoyle, they emerged in the headmaster's office. He was alone.

"I wondered if you would show up. I guess I have my answer," the old man said, "Severus isn't here yet. Remus went and searched for him. They shouldn't be long. Please seat."

"By the way," Harry asked Ron, "where are your parents and brothers?"

"They went home after having the confirmation Ginny was well. Only Bill stayed with Cha... Cast," He said reprovingly.

"Do they know?" He inquired in a small tone, directing his head toward Ginny, Seamus and Dean.

Ron nodded. "We told them this morning. They seemed happy."

"You still haven't forgiven him?" He went on asking in the same tone, keeping an eye on the others, verifying they weren't listening.

His friend frowned, "Oh yes, I have. After all he went through. I mean, he told us the dark lord tortured him, and I know my brother: he isn't one to admit dolour easily, what with his work and all. For him to have this... expression on his face... and in his eyes... Merlin, I can't imagine what happened... I'm not sure I want to know."

By the end of his speech, Ron was pale. Harry took his best friend's hand and squeezed it.

They couldn't say anything more as Snape and Remus entered the office.

Noticing the students, the potion master sighed, "You're vain, Albus."

The mentioned smiled, "I know but I am too old to change."

The two teachers sat. "Fine. Ask, I'll see if I can answer."

"By 'can', you mean?" Asked a new voice.

"Minerva. What a pleasure. Please, take a seat. One more or one less, who cares?" Snape hissed with sarcasm.

"I can't take points off your Slytherins, thanks to your protégé, and I have to entertain myself," Replied McGonagall.

Students observed the verbal exchanged, unmoved, used to the sparring between the two teachers.

Snape fumed in his seat. "By 'can', I mean what I may say without putting what is left of me in danger."

"I was not aware Mr Malfoy could go to such ends," Dumbledore murmured.

Snape eyed the man with care and sighed again, "Let's be straightforward. This night, Draco was declared an outcast by Voldemort."

Dumbledore frowned, "So their war has begun."

"No. It begun long ago. When Draco went for his father, there was an altercation, one Lucius does not want to talk about. No one knew about it in Voldemort's ranks. Later, he went again for Graham Pritchard. At this time, I stopped going to the meetings and I don't know much, but from what I heard, death-eaters were running away out of the fear to be caught in the fight."

"Was he wounded?" Inquired Harry at the memory of a Draco in a bad day.

The professor mildly glared at him, apparently also blaming him for the happenings of this very night. "No. The state he was in wasn't due to one of Voldemort's spells," he seemed to hesitate going on, "He had many organs blown off. I think he tried to morph into his animagus form. I don't know if he succeeded. Nonetheless, what with the gravity of his injuries, it would mean he had never only tried the exercises required to master the animal form."

"It would be madness! No one would even think of it!" Shouted McGonagall.

"Except if he knew he had the ability to morph," Remarked Dumbledore.

The transfiguration teacher looked at the old man with round eyes, if only they had a camera...

"But you can't know if you never morphed, Albus! There is only two possibilities: if he trained to become an animagus, or if he naturally was one. In both cases, he would have had to master his animal form. Even fast learners have to pass by that case."

"That only means he knew he was an animagus, but had never morphed before. Does it exist a spell that can reveal if you're a natural?" asked Remus.

"No spell and no potion. If you're a natural, some parts of your body morph at times, but never the full body. You have to train to be able to use the morphing."

"Let's report the subject. I'd like to know some other things," interrupted Dumbledore, "Can you talk about last night?"

"On this part, we all have carte blanche. He does not mind," Assented Snape.

"Good. He knew the aurors would come?"

"This precise night, no. But Weasley had told him about the new captors around the Manor."

"Did you know about Bill?"

"No, Draco had openly talked to Cast about his brother but I hadn't made the connection."

"They accepted you back?"

"Seems like it."

"Where does the young one put his mark? It can't be on the same arm as Voldemort?" Asked Minerva, pensive.

"A mark?" Snape was astounded, "Draco isn't a slave-trader!"

"Hum," beckoned Dumbledore, "I think Minerva wonders if there is a tattoo of the Clan."

Snape calmed down, "Long ago, the tradition was to have a snake tattooed on the shoulder. It disappeared during the fifteenth century, when the Clan was discovered. No one cared, it had never been more than a recognition sign. Voldemort used the idea to create the Morsmordre but he's mad."

"Another thing: how do Slytherins recognise the heir?"

"By aura. Slytherins in mind feel the link with the heir."

"However you hadn't noticed it," Remarked Dumbledore.

"Because I worked with you. The heir can choose to reveal himself or not, and whom to."

"How long ago did he discovered he was the heir?"

"I don't know. He was aware of it half a year ago, for he went for his father. I think Lucius had already betrayed Voldemort and would have got killed. The dark lord wanted to gain Draco's support, knowing he wouldn't be able to gain the lower Slytherins to work with him if he opposed the new heir. That's why he didn't declared Lucius an outcast at the time."

"Is Draco a descendant of Slytherin?"

"I'm not sure. It wouldn't surprise me, with all they have in their blood..."

"What did you say? I thought the Malfoys were pure-blood," Exclaimed McGonagall.

Snape smirked as they had seen Draco do so many times, "It's so easy to notice you didn't grow up in a Slytherin family. Originally, pure-blood didn't mean you only had wizard blood but magical blood. Many creatures can be considered pure-blood, even if they aren't even wizard. There are particular conditions."

"And which 'particular' blood would they have?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know much and by all means, I am not allowed to answer."

That was the first question Snape refused.

"Fine. Did he was aware I would come at the Manor yesterday night?" continued Dumbledore, good loser.

"You personally, no, I don't think. He didn't say anything about you. Only aurors."

"Hum. What other question did I have? One should not grow old... Oh! I remember. I suppose Asmodeus is the Bloody Baron. How did Draco know his name?"

"Another thing I don't know," Sighed Snape.

"I note you don't know much," Observed McGonagall.

Snape gave her a piercing look, "Nobody knows much! And you know even less," He insisted on the 'you', stating if he wasn't wanted, he could go away and leave them to their pitiful ignorance.

"That is why we need you to enlighten us," Calmed Dumbledore, sending an admonishing look at the transfiguration teacher. "I have a last question, one Harry asked yesterday and wasn't answered."

"About what happened to Narcissa," Guessed Snape. To Harry's surprise, the sallow face of the potion master had gone as pale as a ghost. "That, I can't answer; and you don't want to ask."

Dumbledore observed his old friend during a long time, searching into the depths of his mind what could terrify him so, for it certainly wasn't common to see this man in such a scared state.

"Well, I have nothing more to ask," Concluded the headmaster.

"I have two other questions," Raised Harry.

Snape sighed again, this time in exasperation and waited.

"Yesterday, Draco said precisely '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'. I remember clearly. Would he really have killed us?"

The teacher gave a chuckle, thing they didn't know him capable of, "You, no. Dumbledore either. Some aurors probably, he has a grudge against Mad-Eye, but you had already realised it."

"The second is: How can Draco be a descendant of Slytherin if he doesn't speak Parlestongue?"

Snape smiled in earnest, "That, is a good question. If only you could be as attentive in my class!"

'Has he gone mad? Complimenting me truly isn't like him...' thought Harry, 'Well. Maybe it's time to make peace. I'll see to that later.'

Captivated and attracted by the good will and interest the ex-Order's member put in the simple question, all ears were pricked up.

"A thousand years ago," began Snape, "Salazar Slytherin had two sons. To each of them, he gave a Libra, a symbol of the Clan. They were to be transmitted to the first-born son and if they hadn't any, to the first son of the daughter. To command the Clan, one had to possess the blood and a Libra. It happened two heirs raised at the same time, but one always dominated over the other. In the seventeen century, one of the Libra was destroyed during a fight between the two actual heirs. Voldemort possessed the other, and still has it for the death-eaters would abandon him if not. Yet, during the ceremony yesterday night, Draco had one also."

Snape let his words sink into his listener's brains. "The strangeness is: this Libra wasn't Voldemort's. They may be differentiated by the colour of the snake's eyes. So, that means Salazar hadn't two but three acknowledged sons!"

"But the third would never have been mentioned in books," Finished Dumbledore.

"Exactly! What could have cornered Slytherin into hiding one of his sons, particularly one he had acknowledged as such? And how could this son somehow be related to the Malfoys?"

"But the Parlestongue matter?" Recalled Harry.

"I'll come to it. During the ceremony, Draco hadn't the traditional snake embroidered robe; his had a dragon on the back."

"You mean he would be... dracken-tongue?"

Snape nodded.

"I wonder Severus: you said you should worry over what you have the right to reveal. Didn't you just say too much?" Observed McGonagall.

"... Draco is planning an alliance with the Order."

Silence followed.

"Truly? To say I thought he didn't even envisioned it," Admitted Dumbledore.

"He does. That's why I can tell you what you want about the Clan. He considers a good union can only be set up with truthfulness."

'An alliance? He wants an alliance? That's wonderful news! Together we'll bring Voldemort down!'

"Not now," continued Snape, "but soon, it will be needed. There are some minor problems to settle before but not much. Don't ask me about it, I know nothing," he added before any of the present people could question. "I also have a message for Potter."

Harry faced the man, wondering why Draco had transmitted missive through the professor, rather than coming himself.

"Midnight, Great Hall. That's all," Recounted Snape

'During the feast?! What could he want then?' wondered Harry, grinning, 'That looks like a date, except there will be so many people.'

"Hum. As some of you may have noticed, it's already five in the evening. Shouldn't you all go and prepare maybe?"

Dumbledore glanced specially at Harry who blushed darkly, and students and teachers went away, except ...

"Severus," beckoned the headmaster, "How is Lucius?"

The potion master smirked, "He's well enough, what with the raid and all."

"I wonder... about Narcissa..."

"Albus," called Snape with familiarity and a serious frown, "Trust me on this, please. There are some things best left unsaid."

"Fine," dropped Dumbledore, all the more pleased that his old friend still seemed to have some affection for him, "I won't ask you again. May you come for tea on some days or would that be too much for your Slytherin reputation?" He asked without the least trace of contempt but some hint of humour.

Severus smiled so slightly, yet visibly, "Draco doesn't like disobedience and hates treason, but he has nothing against someone as long as this one doesn't tamper with him. If only you could try to know him more, Albus, you would see you're very much alike. He holds you in great regard, even if he doesn't voice it out."

As it happened only in exceptional occasions, Dumbledore was at a loss for words, 'Draco Malfoy? Having regard for me? I knew he hated me, despised me, mocked me, and now...'

It was one of this moments that are bound to occur when two so powerfully armed beings, both of them superior by strength of body and spirit, appear in the same time and place. To learn your counterpart respects you is the higher reward, and a smile of contentment puckered Dumbledore's lips.

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

Night-time had fallen on Hogwarts. Harry had chosen a black velvet robe, black pants also, above a dark green cotton shirt. It brought out his eyes, Hermione said.

The noise in the room should have been unbearable, but he didn't hear it, as he was drowned in his thoughts. The feast began at eight and would last long into the night. Catching up with Ron that waited for him, they joined Hermione in the Common Room and departed.

The Great Hall was as splendid as every year. Candles were floating above the students' heads, sculpted pumpkins decorated the tables and all that could be wished in children dreams was disposed in sumptuous dishes.

As they entered, Harry immediately spotted Draco. The blonde was talking with Cast and Bill. What was Bill still doing in the castle? Dumbledore came to meet them.

"Good evening, Harry," Saluted the old man.

"Good evening, professor. What is Bill doing here?"

"Bill? I proposed to him to assist at the feast. As you know, the Slytherins appreciate him, a Gryffindor of a Gryffindor family. If this show of fraternity could bring the houses together, I would be very pleased. I also deeply appreciated the efforts you made to close the gap."

"Thank you. But I did it mostly for myself," Recalled Harry.

"Such selfishness should be more common, then. I let you to enjoy the feast: Minerva is calling for me. I won't make her wait, a harpy is dangerous when annoyed, would say Mr. Malfoy."

Harry looked at the old man retreat with a grin. Was that amusement and kindness he had seen in his eyes when speaking about Draco? By the way, Draco was... Smiling at him. While sitting at his usual place, next to Ron, Harry reciprocated the act. At Draco's right was Blaise then Pansy and at his left Cast then Bill. Nobody seemed to mind the presence of a teacher at a students' table. On the inverse, many were whispering about Bill. There was no doubt such as his identity: his hair's colour had denounced him. What was he doing at the Slytherin's table? Had he lost his mind? Why were the teachers letting such a treason happen under their noses? Murmurs were soon turning into hisses, and Draco did nothing to stop them.

The sound of a small bell reasoned and all turned to Dumbledore.

"Ah! Another Halloween at Hogwarts. I don't know you but I craved all year for pumpkin cake. I simply can't resist. This softness that melts on the tongue, and this funny colour... Hum, well... I'll stop now or some of you will call me gaga again." He sent a perceptive glance at Draco who sent it back tranquilly. "As gossip remains a Hogwarts speciality, I suppose the full school is aware of the night's events. No?" He added at a lack of reactions. "That's strange. Children, are you sick?" he asked with concern. "You have to know, that is the first time since long ago that I am going to announce an event that is unknown to more than half the school. This is a beautiful night!" He proclaimed happily. "Well, I have the pleasure and honour to thank the Slytherin house, and particularly Mr. Malfoy and the Bloody Baron, for the saving of Miss Virginia Weasley."

It took time for the words to immerse in the brains. Harry smiled. In all his seven years in Hogwarts, never had he heard Dumbledore thank or compliment the Slytherin house. Draco sure had a way to turn things to his advantage.

The headmaster went on again, "And now, tidwit..."

"... Heath, glue and coloribon." Interrupted Draco, "We already know you're senile, Dumbledore. No need to deepen our feeling."

The first moment of stupefaction passed, everyone that had learned not to underestimate Draco in the past days erupted into laughs. The others followed.

"What does coloribon mean?" Asked Dumbledore, dumbfounded.

Draco eyed him with stupefaction, "Because what you usually say have a meaning?"

"Well, no. I only say the four first words that come to my mind," The headmaster recognised.

"I did the same. Coloribon was among them," Concluded Draco.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Happy feast, then. Let's eat!"

"I don't know how they could hate each other," said Ron, sweets in the mouth, "They're both doddering."

"Eccentric, Ron. They sure aren't senile, that is for sure," Corrected Hermione.

"Well, well. Isn't it my favourites Gryffindors?"

"What do you want, Peeves?" Inquired Harry.

"Well, I came to tell you a secret," The poltergeist revealed.

"A secret?" Gryffindors were coming close, interested by the word.

"Yes, a secret," Repeated Peeves.

"No secret coming from you could be of any information," Cut Harry.

"You thing? Even if it concern Malfoy?" Bid higher the poltergeist.

Harry's ear twisted at the name, "Say it then."

Peeves giggled, "I thought it couldn't touch you... Well, I'll say it nonetheless. An hour ago, as you were all preparing for the feast, Malfoy, Cast and the older Weasley went out the castle and came back... guess what?"

His interest aroused by the news, Harry urged the poltergeist to go on. "They were carrying a big trunk."

"A trunk? What would they do with a trunk?" Wondered the Gryffindors.

"That, I don't know. But when on the way to the Slytherin dungeons, they passed Dumbledore and Snape, the old gaga asked, 'This is the surprise you talked about? What is there inside?' and Malfoy only answered by a smirk and, 'Something that will raise both happiness and fear.' The gaga seemed to catch the hint for he went away smiling."

The Gryffindor table was silent. "Both happiness and fear? It is not a surprise if it is horrible," Commented Ron.

'Both happiness and fear? As Ron says, it can't be a surprise if it is horrible. What can it be?'

What had the blonde imagined again? What would happen at midnight? So many surprises in only one day of time. First, the Snake's Clan. Then Draco being Slytherin's heir. By the way...

"Peeves, do you know when is Draco's birthday?" Harry asked.

"His birthday? What do you want to do with his birthday? Oh, that's right, it's soon... It's on the second of November."

So they could really have been celebrating his birthday yesterday night. Where had Draco learnt to master transcendental magic? When had he become so powerful? What had transformed him so? As Snape had said, that had begun before or during their sixth year. What had happened at that time? Some months before, there was the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. There, his father had been caught, then released. Why had he been released by the way? Because there was traces of an Imperius on him, that's right. After that event, Draco hadn't been heard again. He had shut up during the ending ceremony.

'I always thought it was due to his father getting almost sent to Azkaban but could it be he already had changed at that point? What secret are you hiding, Draco? Does your father even know about it? You commanded to him too, yesterday. Doesn't he mind? He never seemed the type to accept blindly orders to me. And what happened when you went to rescue Pritchard?'

Four hours were spent this way and midnight came without his realising it. As Dumbledore had previously said, secrets weren't Hogwarts' students' strong point. During the dinner, news had travelled about that 'surprise' that was to happen, and as the enormous grandfather clock rang in the Great Hall, all went silent. As the last gong echoed, Cast and Zabini, whom no-one had seen going out, entered back carrying what seemed to be the trunk Peeves had mentioned. They traversed the Hall and deposited their charge just in front the teachers' table, in full view of every student; then posted on each side, acting like guardians protecting a treasure.

"Well," began Draco, "I had hoped for a more... private ceremony."

Every student caught the hint, but all refused to move, or couldn't, glued on their chairs by curiosity. Harry wasn't even sure half the room had registered the sentence, as they were all contemplating the trunk.

Apparently giving up the idea of privacy, Draco got up smiling broadly, came directly at the Gryffindor table, without anyone only thinking of stopping him, and presented his arm to Harry. Under the eyes of all Hogwarts, the boy accepted the hand and was taken to the front of the room. Harry felt the stares on them. It was confusing and disturbing. Him, that had always fled from projectors, was voluntarily going under them. It looked like a bride at her marriage. Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who sent him back an unreadable look. The trunk was a common one, with a leaf on the top. It was closed.

Draco went in Harry's back and enlaced his waist from behind. The arms were strong and warm and Harry felt his muscled and mind relaxing. Draco's breath in his neck titillated him.

"Make a wish, Harry," Murmured the seductive blonde.

'A wish? I'd like this war to end, Voldemort to be dead, people to be happy, me to live in peace, you to proclaim your undying love for me,' Harry thought, 'I want people to cease disappearing, getting killed. I desire not to lose people I love again. That makes many, don't you think? But there is one that would please me most. I wish to feel joy.'

"Granted."

Cast and Zabini each caught a side of the leaf, and brutally opened the trunk.

"Ahhh! Malfoy! I'll kill you!!!"

Students screamed at the sudden apparition and some even fled the Hall.

Harry made to jumped backwards at the shout but was kept in place by Draco. "S... Sirius?" he said aghast.

The man, hair dishevelled, tired eyes, face unshaved, looked at him, rubbed his eyes and looked again. "Harry? What are you doing with Malfoy?"

'I think it is one of these moments in which people faint. Should I?' wondered the green-eyed young man. "Hum. He gives me a surprise," he explained, uncertain.

Behind him, Draco grinned to his ears, self-proud. "So, Black, not too rustled? You'll notice I chose a big trunk to take care of your old bones."

Sirius's teeth cracked. "You..." He took one foot out of the trunk to strangle the insolent blonde but stopped as a wand touched his neck.

"Take one more step, Black," menaced Zabini, "And you'll go back to where you would be without Draco."

"Please," beckoned Dumbledore, "Calm down, children."

At the authoritative voice, and a nod of Draco, Zabini let down the wand. The students' reactions were divided: a quarter cheered -mostly Gryffindors- , a half were horrified and fearful -mostly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and the last quarter didn't care -mostly Slytherins-.

"Students!" shouted Draco who had turned back to face the Hall, "I have the pleasure to introduce to you Sirius Black, ex-Gryffindor and ex-Azkaban prisoner. I'll add he wasn't guilty of what the Ministry accused him of, even if he did committed some reprehensible acts in his youth. No need to flee, he won't eat you," He added for some that still doubted.

Harry witnessed Sirius ready to kill Draco again and Remus rushing to stop him. "You may want to continue the reunion somewhere more private?" Advised Draco.

Dumbledore smiled and smoothed his beard. "Children," he addressed the Hall, "It is indeed late in the night. Let's say the curfew will be at two in the morning." Many acclaimed, completely forgetting the Black episode. "Please, behave," The old man finished and disappeared with a trio of Gryffindors, a Slytherin, an ex-convict and a were-wolf.

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

All settled in Dumbledore's office with warm cups of tea in hand, the discussion began.

"How did you escaped the death-eaters?" Harry asked after embracing Sirius.

The man glared at Draco who calmly sipped his tea, "I never saw death-eaters. I was running from the aurors and then nothing. I woke in Malfoy Manor, tied up and watched by Bill and his father," he said, indicating Malfoy with the eyes. "These three weeks were the worst of my life. Living with Malfoy! You imagine!" Harry grinned slightly. "Then yesterday, or I think it was yesterday, they put me in the trunk. That's all."

"May you enlighten us, Mr Malfoy?" Requested Remus, far too happy to find his last friend safe and sound to pay real attention to his complains.

"Easy," responded the boy, "Black heroically tried to steal dark parchments that I wanted and pitifully failed."

"Draco," softly scolded Harry, "I very much appreciate your surprise. It's wonderful. Yet, I'd like to know..."

Faced with the gentle smile and curiosity-filled eyes, the blonde couldn't resist, "Fine, fine. As you may remember from a previous conversation you had with Blaise, we spied on Dumbledore since the beginning of the year."

Harry nodded, recalling the awful night he'd spent in the dungeon.

"When he decided to send Black at Gringotts," went on Draco, "We were aware of it, and for my part, I sent Bill and Charlie to stop him."

"Charlie?" repeated Sirius, dumbfound, "Isn't he dead?"

"Cast is Charlie," quickly explained Remus, "Draco saved him from Voldemort."

"Really?" sarcastically commented Black, "Why would he do that?"

Dumbledore hesitated to make reproach at Sirius but waited to see what happened.

"As I narrated yesterday," finally answered Draco, ignoring the contempt, "I thought the boy was already dead when I went to Voldemort. To find him still alive was a surprise so I took him with me. Dumbledore will fill the gaps about the Clan. As I said, I sent Bill and Charlie to stop him. When they noticed the aurors, they went after them, and apparated with him. Seems like they avoided a massacre. After that, I didn't know what to make of you. Then Halloween came and I found it a good idea to animate the night. Plus, I find it funny to accumulate Gryffindors' life debts."

Sirius boiled at the 'animation' comment, "My debt goes to the Weasley brothers," He spat.

"So much loath..." pointed out Draco, "Calm down, you're gonna get an ulcer. Well, I have to go and sleep in order to be fit on Monday," he added getting up and going to the door, "Farewell."

"What should you be fit on Monday for, Malfoy? Other people to rescue," Asked Hermione amusingly, opening her mouth for the first time.

Draco stopped and turned back to the group. Harry gasped. In no more than seconds, the cheerful face had taken a tense expression his eyes showed a tiredness than run deep in his body. "On the contrary, Granger. On Monday, I suspect my grand-father will pay us a visit."

Sirius's eyes opened wide, "Your grand-father?" he repeated, "Aren't your grand-fathers dead?"

Draco faced the man and sighed. "Such parasites never die," He said and left.

"How do you know his grand-fathers are dead?" Asked Harry when Draco had disappeared.

"Family's obligations. They died long ago. Narcissa's father just after we got out of school and Malfoy's during the first war."

"By the way, Sirius," spoke Hermione, "Would you know what happened to Narcissa Malfoy?"

"No. When I mentioned her to Malfoy, he evaded the question. He knows for sure but won't tell."

"We'll be fixed this afternoon," concluded Dumbledore, "I asked him an interview. Now, I suggest you also go and sleep. I have no clue on what is going to happen on Monday but if Mr Malfoy have gone to rest, it should be important."

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

Sunday, November the 1st

Morning came again. The sun had come out not so long ago and golden beam of lights roamed the air. For the first time in months, Charlie felt in peace. He was alive, Voldemort was far away, his parents had forgiven him and his brothers hadn't beat him to a pulp. All was well in the best of worlds, would have said Voltaire. Charlie could almost have heard birds singing in the sky.

A body stirred to life next to his. He turned on his side and plunged his hand in the long red mane. It wasn't new to wake up next to Bill. Ever since they were kids had they slept together.

When they had move in the Burrow, the house's renovations weren't finished and the two brothers had been put in the same room, sharing a bed. Small as they were, it fitted well. They had only one year difference. Same toys, clothes, thoughts. Then Percy was born, "We will protect him together!" Charlie had declared. And to protect, they had, Percy, then the twins, Ron and Ginny. When Charlie's Hogwarts letter had arrived, Bill had cried for days.

"The dark lord wants to attack Hogwarts! I don't want you to die!" He'd said.

It was time of war and effectively, Hogwarts was attacked, but one year later and at that point, the two brothers were reunited in the same house and feared nothing. True Gryffindors. Then time had passed. Romania and Egypt had separated them. The news of Bill's engagement. She was named Emily. Red hair too, strong temper, very kind, good cook, wanted many kids, the perfect wife. Molly had immediately adopted her. To Charlie, it had been a shock. Wasn't Bill gay?

"I thought. But I love her, Charlie. Please, I need your benediction. I will do nothing without."

Of course he had given it. His little brother, the second part of his soul, was happy. Who would he be to deny him this pleasure? And he was happy too. He took joy into seeing Bill smile. Then there was Voldemort.

Flash-Back

"Please, I'm here to open an account. The more common formula you propose," He told the goblin.

"Of course, sir."

And then he saw. Red hair passed him. As an automate, he turned the head. The temptation was too high. The sight was unbearable: Bill had taken thirty years in four months. Charlie filled the papers in a daze and fled Diagon Alley. Two days later, he came back and asked for Bill Weasley.

"Bill, it's me," He said tentatively when they sat in a park.

The young man looked at him without understanding. What was this man saying?

Cast looked around to verify no-one was listening. "Charlie," He added in a murmur.

Bill enraged, "Do you think me a fool? My brother is in Voldemort's hands, and if you don't want to test what I do to death-eaters when I find one, I suggest you go away now."

"Please, Bill," he pleaded with supplying eyes, "You have to trust me. Ask whatever you want. Or let's go somewhere with less people and I'll take the counter-potion."

Bill' face showed confusion. These expressions, both physical and of speech, it really looked like Charlie when he regretted an act. Or it was him going mad. "Fine. You have five minutes. Past that time, I call for the aurors... Or kill you myself for such a farce."

Charlie took a long breath in, "When we were young, you used to sing Christmas songs with Mum. One day, as you wanted to carve your name up in a tree and I feared you would hurt yourself, I went in your place without you knowing. I felt and break my arm. You drew a bear on the plaster. Another time when Fred and George were six and they had disordered your coin collection one more time, we hid at night under their beds and made them think there were ghosts in the house in retaliation. During your sixth year at Hogwarts, you had a date with your first boyfriend and apprehended to kiss him so you asked me to train you. Later, when I was gone to Romania, you..."

Charlie stopped his rambling as big tears rolled down Bill's cheeks. "It's me, lil bro. I swear. I'd never lie to you."

The young man looked at the floor and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I thought you were dead. That the dark lord killed you," He cried out.

"I know," softly replied his elder, hugging his brother to stop the tremors, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you so much. I'm sorry," He repeated.

The shivers slowly died. People looked at them like at two lovers reconciling after a quarrel. It certainly looked like it. On both opinions, they went to a less known part of the park in order to be tranquil.

"How did you escape?" Asked Bill while refusing to let go of his brother's arm in fear he would disappear again.

"Well," hesitated the man, "That's the hard part. I was rescued by Malfoy."

Bill's eyes rounded, "What?"

"Hum. You heard. Please, do not think bad of them. They helped me so much. I was almost dead, Bill, and then he came and I awoke safe at the Manor. And he also helped me through the nightmares and the memories. I wouldn't have survived without him. Please, you must make peace, for me..."

"Fine!" Bill would have done everything just to keep his brother next to him, even associate with the devil, "Who is 'he'?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"What?" he exclaimed again. "And what did his father thought of you in his Manor?"

"That's complicated." Charlie didn't want to go on explaining about the Clan in a public park, it was already dangerous to reveal who he was, what to say about the Clan, Draco would never forgive him. "I can't tell you here. Too much risks. Come at the Manor tomorrow, meet me at the south border of the Malfoy's lands, there's a small church. I'll be there at ten P.M."

The day after, they met again, then it was two months of corresponding by letters only, and the summer holidays. By that time, Bill had agreed to meet with the Malfoys and all doubts he still had were washed away by his encounter with Draco. The young convinced him to work with them. Bill never said, but he would have agreed to anything, as a way to thank them for his brother's saving.

Later in the holidays, Bill confessed he'd called the marriage off. "But why?" Cried Charlie when learning about it.

They were taking a walk in the big property of the Malfoys. In this park, you could run for hours and encounter no-one. However, the lands were inhabited. Here and there, small boroughs had constructed, accommodating some dozens of souls. When you asked them why they lived on the Malfoy's grounds, they all answered without an hesitation, 'Because they protect us.' And if you insisted and demanded against who, they smiled enigmatically, kept their lips closed, raised the right arm and designed the Skies, then the Earth. What did that mean?

They had sat on a hillock, observing the activity in one of the boroughs from the top. Children were playing on brooms, they looked like they were learning the rules.

"You know the reason: I'm gay," finally acknowledged Bill.

"But you said you loved her," contested Charlie.

"Yes, I said it. Seems like I misled myself into thinking I could marry the feminine version of you," he laughed, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Charlie wasn't sure his brother joked or not and decided not to comment or act upon it.

End of Flash-Back

At the deliciously erotic feeling of a manly warm hand creating knots in his hair, a long moan answered the caress. A door's noise made it a groan.

"Two sexy young men in a bed. If I didn't know Harry would never forgive me, I'd join you."

They recognised instantly Draco's voice. Charlie turned in the bed to face the newcomer.

"There's a problem?"

"A problem?" repeated Draco as he spotted Bill's wand on a table and played with it, "No, there is no problem. I'm simply trying to busy myself while father is with Dumbledore." His voice was dull, his mind far away and his eyes tired.

"Why don't you go and assist to the conversation if you mind it? Besides, I don't think he would reveal anything that could bother you," reassured Cast.

When Draco didn't answer and fixed continually a spot on the carpet, Charlie got up, took the boy's hand and guided him to the bed which they sat on. Bill observed them, fully awoken. "It isn't this conversation that bother you, is it?"

Draco finally looked at him with blank and scared yet heartened and hoping eyes, "I spent last year's alone. But this time, you're here. There's someone."

"Last year's what?" Inquired gently Cast, encouraging the boy's confidences out.

"Tomorrow, I died."

"What?" he exclaimed in a soothing tone, "Draco, that doesn't make any sense. You can't have died tomorrow. You're just here, with us," he contradicted as he would blow away a child's fear of the dark.

"I feel it," went on Draco without acknowledging the reply, "I feel the wind of death upon me again. It's coming and I can't stop it. I know I will come back, I know it for sure, but the dark is frightening and I go alone."

Charlie stopped the rambling by clasping the boy into his arms. "You're not alone! We're here. Bill and me." As to stress the fact, the younger Weasley passed his hand in the blond hair. Within minutes, Draco was asleep. The two brothers looked at each other: none had a clue on the young's behaviour but they didn't mind: it was time for payback, not for questions.

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

At the same moment, two grown men were conversing into Dumbledore's office.

"I must acknowledge my being impressed by Draco. Your son revealed many qualities in this short period of time."

Lucius didn't replied but his expression was mid-smiling, mid-smirking behind his cup of tea as he sipped some of it.

"I wondered: did the ceremony take place?"

"If you know the answer, why ask the question?"

"Hum... Right... I noticed Severus spent the night at Malfoy Manor." He sounded like a father scolding his daughter's boyfriend.

"And?"

The old man hesitated, eyed the blonde lord with his piercing sight, plunging to the utter soul of his 'victim', yet this man was one of the few that always let him an impression of unfinished work, of mystery that he hadn't uncovered. What with the events of these six last years, public opinion had stricken continually the Malfoys; and the new Gryffindors didn't understand this power that this ancient family possessed. But it was still there, more powerful than ever. How could no-one have sensed it? Of course. The Malfoys had stopped many of their diplomatic relations ten years ago. Had they felt they needed to disappear from the first scene? Lucius Malfoy was a particularly dangerous opponent on the politic field, had he foreseen the coming to power of his son? No, it couldn't be so. Rather, he wanted to be of use to his master. Then Harry and Voldemort had occupied the press and mind of everyone, letting free place to Draco. The boy had exploited this discretion and underestimation he was offered to raise to power in the middle of us. And we saw nothing! A true Malfoy he is indeed. Manipulator to the extreme. Finally, he had taken his father back to the top with him and there the man was. As dangerous as twenty years ago. Truly, the Malfoys were the real soul of the dark side, not Voldemort. They reigned over it for centuries and didn't appear as inclined with stopping there. Dumbledore sighed.

"I want you to take care of Severus. He isn't as strong as he looks," he eventually required.

"I took care of him for more than twenty years. Surely that shows my competence on this matter."

Flash-Back

"You think he would have killed them?" Inquired Severus at Lucius's attention.

"Who?" Questioned back the vampire. Aurors and Gryffindors had departed for Merlin only knew where, Slytherins for Hogwarts under the care of Cast and Bill, and they had been left alone, immediately directing their steps toward the chamber. But Snape seemed less inclined to pleasure than he'd been one and a half hour ago. What he wanted now were answers.

"Draco of course."

Lucius turned back to the black-haired and closed the door behind them, then invited the man to sit on the bed as he served them a drink. "If you mean the aurors, yes. And the world would have been better. Still, I don't wish to be sent to Azkaban and won't complain he let them live."

They stayed silent for a time, their mind devoid of thought and delighted in the calm of the room, sipping quietly the expensive cognac. Lucius posed his half-empty glass on the chimney and soon, Severus's joined it. Alcohol had rendered to Snape's body all his sensations back, and as the blond man approached, he lied back on the bed in waiting of the delectable pleasure of being exposed to the vampire. He drew his legs apart, letting place for Lucius between them.

The man sat, pulled Severus's thighs on his lap and rammed his pelvis above the covered cheeks. A long groan of unfulfilled desire completed the motion.

Many hours later, they both reposed under the sheets, exhausted and asleep together. A dark-haired head rested on a white strong shoulder and hands were intertwined. They looked like lovers. And they were.

End of Flash-Back

"Yet you never knew he worked for me," Attacked Dumbledore.

"And you still don't know the full nature of our relation," Countered Lucius.

Dumbledore stayed silent for a time, pondering the last words of the High Clan's lord.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah that..."

"What happened to Narcissa?" Dumbledore brutally yet calmly asked.

Lucius smirked, "Severus warned me you wouldn't drop the subject. I'm none the less pleased to notice you gave up the riddles."

The headmaster awaited for the man to go on, wondering if this time, he would get an answer. It seemed Merlin was on his side.

"You see..." began Malfoy, "Each time Draco revealed himself to someone as the Slytherin heir, this someone was to choose between him and Voldemort."

He paused and Dumbledore nodded to show his full attention.

"I was presented this dilemma one and a half year ago, at the end of Draco's fifth year, after being almost sent to Azkaban. I'm sure you recall the circumstances of what I'm talking about so you'll also remember I was acquitted thanks to an Imperius that had been placed on me."

The words sank in. "He had cast it," Completed Dumbledore.

"Well... He never admitted it directly, but it was insinuated. He gave me six months to make my choice. Why six? I don't know. The problem is: I discovered approximately five months later that someone had heard our little conversation this very day."

"Narcissa, I suppose."

"You're right. The fact is: not only had she spied on us, but she had also gone and repeated it to someone I would rather have been left ignorant. Let's name: the dark lord. At that time, I had already took the decision to follow Draco and did not appreciated Voldemort to be aware of it. And, as in every group that wishes to remain even remotely secret, spying and treason are not well accepted among the Snake's Clan. Also, she was my wife and by so, my responsibility. I had to repair the insult she made to the Clan. You must know Narcissa was a death-eater, but wore the mark on her leg as her arms were commonly naked. She was linked to Voldemort as each of us. Was she to die a violent death, he would feel it. Besides, a quick death wouldn't have taught her a lesson..."

"I fear I don't follow you." Or rather he doubted his will to discern the truth.

"Oh, but you perfectly understood. I buried my wife alive."

Dumbledore registered the shock and searched for the least trace of regret or sadness in Lucius's eyes. There was none.

"For days," went on Lucius, "For days, she bawled between her four walls, pestering against me and Draco, using her nails on the rocks. Then the cries became whispers then silence."

Dumbledore was horrified. "Does Draco know of it?"

"For sure. That's why he went to Voldemort."

"Hum." That was one of the reason he never liked the Malfoys, they were always too quick to condemn.

They talked about nothing in particular some time more then Lucius took leave.

No sooner had he exited the Gargoyle that Bill came to him, murmured some words that made both men went away.

"We thought he was sleeping but only five minutes later, he got up and directly went to the Slytherin wing. A painting appeared on a wall and he entered it. Charlie stayed with him in case he moves to elsewhere."

"What happened that made him react this way?" A frown lined his forehead, sole evidence of Lucius's worry.

"We don't know. He seemed tense, even afraid. He talked about dying tomorrow."

"What?" His heart began beating faster and his pace accelerated.

"He said he died tomorrow."

Lucius didn't even stopped. As they arrived near Cast, the man indicated them Draco still was there by a move of the hand. Effectively, Lucius observed a time the old painting. It represented a single room, simply decorated, furnished with a carpet, a small well-stocked bookcase, a desk and a bed, on which he noticed his son. The boy was cuddled in the sheets, his hair only coming out. Lucius placed a hand on the print and penetrated it.

Silently, he approached his sleeping son and sat on the bed. He contemplated the show of a little angel in his white nest of immaculate feathers. He took off his shoes and entered the bed, fully-clothed, earning a groan of discontent at the disruption and as soon a moan of satisfaction at the source of heat. He embraced his son, cherishing the lithe body in his arms. How many years had it been since he last fondled his little boy? These last months, Draco had grown distant, concerned over the Clan and his responsibilities, and they had little time to talk. Surely what was currently befalling to him was part of these secrets that was his new life. Still so many to unfold. Hopefully, this one could be deducted from the remaining number. Actually, Lucius hadn't need much hint to discover what was occurring: he already knew the death's date of Dracken Malfoi, the rest had been deduction. There had been too many coincidences since little while ago for him not to suspect something. Dracken had died on the 2nd of November, the exact day of Draco's birth, the night of the Dead. His son was haunted by his previous death.

In the middle of the night, when the terror was at its paroxysm, Lucius clasped tightly his son, reciting all he knew, from the powers and knowledge to the 'Salazar would have been very pleased', in order to appease his soul. Then it ceased, and Draco was back.

"He's there," He only said.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Moony turned and returned in his bed. He hadn't slept since Sirius's return the day before, and began to feel really tired. Besides, the fool moon was still too present in the atmosphere for him to rest.

How many times would he lose Padfoot? His last companion. Of course, he had many other friends, but none could compare with the special link the Marauders had formed.

Sixteen years ago, when they all thought Black was a mass-murderer, cause of the massacre in the Potters' house and one and a half year ago, when he'd fallen into the world of dead.

At that time, he hadn't resisted. In front of Harry, he'd put up the strong face to help the boy; but in private, it had been the nervous break-down. After many pondering days, he'd gone secretly back to the Ministry and traversed the passage. He'd erred among the shadows, searching for his friend, not even knowing how he would return to Hogwarts. But his sanity could seriously be doubted at this moment. Finally, he'd found him, in the middle of disappearing souls. He'd dragged the unconscious body toward where he came from, before his mind took a no-return point. Hopefully for both of them, Dumbledore had felt Remus quitting the Black Manor and had followed him. He had opened the gate for them, using force power. Dumbledore was their father, he cared for and protected them, as Draco did for the Slytherins.

He suddenly roused. What was this now? This sensation that cursed his veins. This was power in its truest form. He put on his robe and ran through his chamber's door. The cold air helped him see clearer and his were-wolf senses took the upper hand. He directed his steps toward the headmaster's office.

On his way to it, he was joined by Harry and Sirius, the first had been discussing with the second and had had a vision of red. They had gone to the headmaster for quick help.

Feeding the password to the Gargoyle, they jumped the stairs and opened the office's door wide.

The man was above the middle stature and broad-shouldered, long-armed, powerfully made, like ancient lords and noblemen accustomed to endure the fatigue of war or of the chase. His face was broad with large brown eyes that reflected promptness and fieriness, open and frank features, altogether expressive and secret. His long dark brown hair was combed down on each side to the length of his shoulders, with a little tendency to grey. As common wizards, he was dressed of a long black robe that fell to the floor.

Dumbledore extended the arm in the direction of the stranger and introduced, "Please, meet Godric Gryffindor, the founder of your house."