Lumos Obscurum

Chapter 13 - The Second Prophecy

"Harry? Harry, mate, are you awake yet?"

Harry's eyes slowly opened and a blurry face swam before his eyes. He blinked a few times, and as the fog in his head lifted, he recognized that it was Ron. "Hullo, Ron," he said, yawning. "I'm up."

"It's lunchtime," Ron said as he sat down on the edge of Harry's bed. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Harry stretched his arms and sat up. "Better," he assessed. "I think."

"Hermione was worried about you when you missed breakfast and morning classes... she would've come up here with me, you know, only she has Ancient Runes right now and..." Ron cracked a smile. "You know how she is about not missing class."

"Right," Harry's returned Ron's smile. He glanced at his bedside clock and saw that it was indeed just past noon. He supposed he ought to get up, so that he could at least make it to Transfiguration that afternoon. He pushed back the covers and stumbled out of bed.

"So..." Ron said, gazing at Harry. "Are you going to tell me what happened with Snape last night?"

Harry winced. "I'd really rather not think about it, Ron," he replied. "I'm better now... I've sorted some things out. So I'd just prefer to drop the whole matter."

Ron nodded, but a look of hurt crossed his face. Harry held back another wince... there once was a time when he had been able to tell Ron everything. But now that time was passed, and Harry would rather keep certain things to himself... or else divulge them exclusively to one single, blond person.

I've been doing a lot of the latter, lately, he noted upon reflection. And he admitted to himself that it was more than likely he would tell Draco of everything that had transpired last night, too.

"You're going to make it to Transfiguration, then?" Ron's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Yeah," he answered, as he moved over to his drawer to dig out fresh robes. "I don't want to upset Hermione anymore. Or McGonagall," he added wryly.

Ron smirked. "Good idea, mate. I'm going to try to grab some lunch before it's all gone... I'll see you in class."

"See you," Harry echoed as Ron left the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

He made it to the start of that afternoon's double Transfiguration lesson with the Slytherins just under the wire. He slid into his usual seat next to Ron, and awkwardly met Professor McGonagall's cool gaze.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said. He found himself consciously trying to not blink away at McGonagall's piercing eyes.

"Do not let it happen again," McGonagall said severely.

"Yes, Professor," Harry ducked his head, and McGonagall began the lesson.

"I thought you were dead, Harry," Ron leaned over and whispered.

"Me too," Harry said softly back. Then, at another rebuking glance from McGonagall, both boys fell silent and began their work. The lesson today was transfiguring an organic object (in this case, a racoon), to an inorganic one (here, a shoe). It was quite difficult, and the class in general didn't seem to be making a very great amount of progress.

All of a sudden, there came a great explosion from the far side of the room. Harry jumped at the sound, and looked over. One of the Slytherins was staring in shock at a burnt mess on his desk... and it looked as though his eyebrows had been singed off.

"Nott, you idiot boy!" McGonagall rushed over. "No, don't touch it! Let me handle it."

In the confusion, while everybody was staring at the disarray Nott had caused, Draco Malfoy stood up nonchalantly from his stool and strolled over to the cage of racoons at the front of the room; presumably to get a replacement for Nott's.

"Potter," Draco said softly, on his way back, stopping by Harry's table under the pretence of getting a hold of his racoon, which was squirming in his arms.

"Malfoy."

"You weren't at breakfast today."

Draco noticed that he had missed breakfast? Harry smiled upon hearing this. "I had some... ah, minor difficulties last night with the Occlumency lesson. I had to sleep it off."

"Ah," Draco said. "Tell me about it later. McGonagall's coming back this way."

Harry nodded, and Draco walked casually away.

"What are you grinning about?" Ron asked. He had been staring along with the rest of the class as McGonagall fixed Nott's blunder, and thankfully had missed the short exchange between Harry and Draco.

"Oh - nothing," Harry said, with some surprise. He hadn't realized that he was still smiling.

McGonagall snapped at them all to continue their work, and Harry bent his head dutifully over his desk.

"Are you getting any of this?" Ron asked him a few moments later.

"No," Harry frowned, prodding at the racoon with his wand. His wand let out several sparks, and the racoon squealed in fright and ran out the door. Harry stared glumly after it.

"Bad luck," Ron said sympathetically. "Here, help me with mine. Maybe both of us together will be able to do it."

But even working together, neither Harry nor Ron could get the racoon to transfigure into so much as a shoelace, and they left the classroom after the lesson with strict instructions to learn the spell by next week.

"Why in the name of Merlin's uncle would we ever need to change a racoon into a shoe, anyway?" Ron grumbled.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know... I wouldn't pose that question to McGonagall, though," he added.

"Yeah, better not," Ron smiled ruefully. "Well, come on, we're due in the library."

"Here, Harry, try this one," Hermione said with some exhaustion. She heaved a rather large hardback book over to Harry's side of the table.

Harry gloomily opened the book to the front cover. "Dark Forces Originating from Siberia (and Other Silly Places You Really Don't Care About)," he read the title aloud. "How is this going to be of any help to us?" They had already been researching for several hours, and so far weren't making any progress at all.

"There may be something in there," Hermione insisted. She irritably brushed back a piece of wavy hair that had fallen loose of her bun. "We have to look through everything. The smallest clue may help us."

"Everything," Ron repeated with a scowl and stared up at the shelves upon shelves that housed the school library's collection of texts.

"You know, the library never seemed this big from the outside," Harry commented.

"There must be thousands of books here," Ron said miserably. "You-Know-Who could very well have taken over everything by the time we're done with them all."

"Quiet, Ronald," Hermione snapped at him. "The quicker you read, the quicker we'll get through them all. Although hopefully we'll be able to find something that may give us a clue on how to defeat Voldemort before then."

"There are only three of us, you know," Ron said. "I'm just saying it's going to take a bloody long time."

"It's not going to help with you whining about it the entire time," Hermione replied angrily. "Not having the proper attitude is not going to help matters."

"There's nothing wrong with my attitude!" Ron's face started to turn red.

"Oh sure, Ron," Hermione said sarcastically. "Your attitude is just dandy, I don't know why I ever thought otherwise."

"Would you two shut up already?" Harry raised his voice in order to be heard. "You're giving me a sodding headache."

"It was his fault!" Hermione said indignantly.

"It was her fault," Ron said at the same time.

"Right, I'm leaving," Harry gathered his stuff and shoved it all into his book bag.

"Harry-"

"Harry, you can't just leave," Hermione said in disbelief. "Nothing will ever get done if we give up so soon-"

"I'm not giving up! Honestly, we're not finding anything right now anyway! And I have homework to catch up on tonight, thanks to my useless Occlumency lesson taking up the entire evening yesterday. I'll see you guys later," Harry threw his bag over his shoulder, and stalked off.

"Well," he heard Hermione's subdued voice behind him. "We'd best continue..."

Harry left the library and trudged up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower. He remained in his bad mood for the rest of the night, and went to bed early with most of his homework left unfinished.

The next couple of days did not go so well for Harry, either. He endured long hours in the library squinting at texts, trying hopelessly to find some clue... some hint... of how to defeat something that is seemingly infallible. But their combined research had thus far been a huge waste of time, in Harry's opinion. This task drained him of almost all his energy, and as a result he was dragging in his classes and not performing well during Quidditch practises. In fact, it took nearly all his stamina now simply to not fall off his broom.

The bright spot was that Hermione and Ron seemed to be getting on better, although he supposed that their temporary truce was only to keep him from running out again.

"Potter!" he heard a familiar voice call his name while he was walking wearily to class one morning.

Harry turned around and saw Draco approaching. "Hello, Malfoy," he greeted him and smiled tiredly.

Draco paused and took a second glance at him. "Potter, you look terrible."

"Thanks, Malfoy, you always know what to say."

"I know," he said smugly.

"So what are you doing conversing with me in public?"

Draco looked around the near empty corridor. "This is hardly public. Everyone's in class by now, I should think."

"Why aren't you?"

"I have a free hour," he waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh. Well, I have Charms, so-"

"Want to go for a walk?"

Harry blinked. "A walk?" he repeated.

"Yes, a walk," Draco said impatiently. "You know, that thing you do outdoors? Where you get from Point A to Point B while usually enjoying the time in between?"

"I know what a walk is," Harry said with a quick glare. "But I just said, I have a Charms lesson that's probably starting as we speak..."

"Skip it," Draco said easily. "I'm bored, and I want to get out of the castle for a while."

Harry bit his lip, looking unsure. "There's no one else you can go with?"

Now Draco began to look annoyed. "I don't want to go with anyone else," he said sourly. "I asked you. Now are you coming or not?"

Draco turned on his heel and headed toward the main entrance area. Harry glanced uneasily around again, but there was no one left in the hallway. It took only a half an instant more of deliberation before Harry turned and followed Draco.

They exited out the front doors, and wandered down a stray path that eventually led to the lake.

"Erm.. nice day out," Harry said to fill the silence.

Draco grunted.

"The trees are a lovely shade of, er," Harry paused. "Green," he finished rather lamely.

Draco didn't respond, he only continued walking down the path, slightly ahead of Harry.

Harry sighed and adjusted his bag over his shoulders. "Was there something you wanted?"

Draco glanced over. "Are we always supposed to be after something whenever we talk to each other?"

"We're not really talking," Harry pointed out. "I'm talking, and you're being a short-tempered arse."

Draco snorted. "Point," he conceded.

"And to answer your question, no, we don't always have to be after something," Harry said. He belatedly wished that he had dropped his bag off at his dormitory before they left; it was growing heavier with each step.

"Malfoy," he called. "Let's stop."

Draco looked back, another annoyed expression growing on his features.

Harry set his bag down with a thump. "My book bag weighs a ton."

"Oh," Draco's face cleared and he walked back over to where Harry was standing. "Well, you should've said something." He sat on the grassy ground with a dignified huff.

"I just did," Harry rolled his eyes, and sat down next to the other boy.

"So," Draco started. "Are you going to tell me what happened with Snape the other night?"

"Oh, that," Harry said, grimacing.

"You said you'd tell me," Draco reminded him.

"I know," Harry said, his shoulders slumping slightly. "It's just, I'd really rather not think about it anymore."

Draco continued staring at him pointedly.

Harry sighed. "Oh all right," he gave in. "Basically, Snape was using this lesson as an excuse for his own personal gain. He was tormenting me, making me relive... things."

"So? You told me that he did that to you all the time in Fifth Year. You should've grown used to it, by now."

Harry shook his head. "It was worse, Malfoy. This was a million times worse than anything he did to me last year. It got so bad... and I got so angry... that I was almost ready to use Cruciatus on him."

"But you didn't?" Draco asked neutrally.

"No, I didn't. I don't know if I would have or not, though," Harry answered truthfully. "I hesitated, and he got a hold of my wand before I had the chance."

"You know Potter, I taught you the curse so that you can use it," Draco exhaled loudly. "Have you learned nothing? It's hesitation that gets you killed."

Harry frowned. "I know Snape hates me, but he wouldn't have killed me."

"No, but if it was anyone else, anyone like, say, Voldemort," Draco looked hard at Harry, "they would've killed you in an instant."

"I know," he said quietly. "But Snape isn't Voldemort. That's what I figured out that night, when I was trying to fall asleep. It's Voldemort I need to hurt, not anyone else but him."

"Such a noble cause," Draco said sarcastically.

"You mean to tell me, given the opportunity, you wouldn't kill Voldemort?"

"After what he's done to my family, of course I would," he was quick to answer. "But there's that little problem of the fact that he can't be killed," Draco was looking at Harry as though he were stupid.

Harry didn't take any notice. "Not necessarily."

"Right. Live in your own delusional world for the rest of your life, for all I care. What was it that got you so angry at Snape anyway?"

"Eh?" Harry asked vaguely. He was squinting thoughtfully into the distance. All this talk about Voldemort had caused something to occur to him...

"I asked," Draco repeated himself impatiently, "What set you off? What were the memories that Snape was invading?"

"Oh, er," Harry said awkwardly. He didn't exactly want to reveal to Draco that it was exactly Snape peering into the memories of the two of them together that had infuriated him so. "Just memories of... you know, most of last year.... Sirius, and what happened..."

Draco spoke again but Harry tuned him out as the idea he had in mind further took shape. It was a long shot, and it would be awfully tough to get the others to agree... but Harry would have to try.

"Listen, Malfoy, I've something to ask you," Harry said swiftly.

Draco frowned. "All right, what is it?"

"Well, you see... Hermione, Ron, and me have been working on a sort of project," Harry began slowly.

"What kind of project?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"A research project," Harry clarified. He paused... he had to think of how much information he wanted to reveal to Draco right now. He couldn't tell him outright what they were doing, he was certain of that. He had given Dumbledore his word that he would keep it a secret. But he, Ron, and Hermione were getting nowhere on their own, after a week of work. And it was foolish to limit themselves when they could easily have the help of another person. He phrased things carefully. "It's a project that has to do with dark wizards from the past. It requires us to go through nearly the entire library, so it's awfully slow going."

"How nice for you. What's it got to do with me?"

"Well, it doesn't, really. But I thought that maybe a fourth person would be a great help to us. Both in going through the books, and possibly catching something we overlooked. It's too big a task for us to handle on our own in a practical amount of time. We need help."

"Now this is interesting. I'd have figured that the Dream Team would have everything all sorted out and colour coded by now," the Slytherin drawled.

Harry laughed shortly. "Things are a little more complicated than that."

"And what do Weasley and Granger think of you asking for my help?"

Harry gave a small wince. "They kind of... don't know... yet."

"I figured as much," Draco said. "Then my answer is no."

"Malfoy..."

"If you haven't consulted them, then obviously they don't feel they need help with this little project of theirs, and therefore would not welcome me there. I doubt they would welcome me anywhere. Though," he reflected, "it would delight and amuse me to torture Weasley and Granger simply with my presence for hours upon end."

"Malfoy-"

"But that wouldn't be very productive, would it?"

"Malfoy," Harry said loudly. "Please. Will you consider doing it, just as a favour to me?"

Draco considered him for a long moment.

"We really need help," Harry persisted. "Even if Hermione or Ron doesn't think so... I know we do."

"Really, Potter, resorting to begging is so...unrefined." Draco shuddered, then seemed to come to a decision. "Very well, then. You have my assistance."

Harry couldn't prevent a broad smile from spreading across his face. "Thanks, Malfoy." He knew Draco would agree, Harry only needed to push him hard enough.

"But you'll owe me one," Draco was quick to add. "And I won't let you forget it."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure you won't."

It was the next afternoon that Harry broke the news to the others. As expected, it was not received very well.

"You did what?!" Ron thundered.

Harry winced. "I asked Malfoy to help us," he told them again.

"Ron, keep your voice down, we're in a library," Hermione reprimanded Ron, but she too was frowning deeply at Harry.

"You know, I understand that you, for some unknown reason, want to be friends with the bastard," Ron said coldly. "But now you're taking things too far."

"I agree, I don't like this, Harry," Hermione was shaking her head. "Dumbledore wanted only the three of us to do it..."

"Listen, I told you that I didn't tell Malfoy everything," Harry said. "He doesn't know what our ultimate aim is. I just asked him to help us with the research. You said it yourself, Ron, that it will take us ages to get through it all with just us three."

"He's a Slytherin!" Ron said angrily. "They can't be trusted!"

"He's not like the other Slytherins... at least, not anymore. He's changed. I know we can trust him," Harry said firmly. "I know he's on our side." Even if he won't admit it, he finished silently.

"That's very well and good for you," Ron said sarcastically, "but he hasn't managed to convince anyone else, including me or Hermione, of that. What's got you so convinced that he's a changed man?"

"The specifics don't matter," Harry said bluntly. "That's his business, not ours. What does matter is the fact that he is different, despite what anyone else may think. And he'll be coming soon, so don't act like this in front of him-"

"He's coming today?" Ron asked, dismayed.

"That's what I just said," Harry replied impatiently.

"All right, all right, everybody just calm down," Hermione rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I guess nothing can be done about it now... and I suppose under the circumstances one more person can't hurt."

"But Hermione," Ron looked betrayed.

"Please, Ron," Hermione said, though she still looked far from happy. "Let's just drop it. We need to find something in this mess, and fast. It doesn't matter who finds it, just as long as it's found."

"Fine," Ron said, folding his arms and scowling at the open volume in front of him.

Harry, too, stared down at the text in front of him, but couldn't concentrate on the words. He hadn't really expected them to take this news very well, but he decided that things could have gone far worse.

A few moments later, Draco showed up.

"I'm here!" Draco announced as he strode up to their table confidently, hands in his pockets.

"I figured by the way you walked through the door," Ron muttered crossly.

Harry threw Ron a reproachful look, then turned to Draco. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Hi, Malfoy," Hermione greeted him with what seemed to Harry was a forced smile. "Well, have a seat. You can start with this one," she pushed a rather thick book over to him.

"The Big Book of Ancient, Unsolvable Riddles," Draco read the cover. "Now there's an optimistic title."

"Not much of this stuff is optimistic," Harry said with a weak smile. "Better get used to it."

The four of them read in silence. After about an hour, Harry dared a glance over at Ron. He seemed to have cooled off a bit now that he had been given time to let things sink in.

"How"re you doing?" Harry asked him quietly.

"I found a recipe for a toadstool casserole," Ron grunted. "Somehow I don't think that"ll be of any help. Unless I decide to try to poison Fred."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione looked alarmed.

"Relax, I was joking," he reassured her. "Mostly."

"Toadstool casserole?" Draco said eagerly. "Let me see that."

Ron rolled his eyes and shoved the book over to Draco, who examined it curiously. "Ah," he nodded knowledgably, "this is different from what my family usually cooks... see, one of my aunts always substituted the frog legs with eyes from barracudas... gives it a smoother texture..."

"Can we focus, please?" Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes towards the ceiling again, and grabbed the book of unsolvable riddles that Draco was previously reading. "You can keep that," Ron told him. "I"m sick of reading about all those disgusting plant uses anyway. I"ll look at this one."

Harry returned to reading about the history of dark forces from the Americas. He had just gotten to the part about the witch trials in some town called Salem, before Ron spoke again.

"Hey guys?" Ron's voice sounded odd.

"What is it?" Harry asked absently.

"I think I found something."

Harry looked up, blinking in surprise. He met Hermione's gaze, and she, too, seemed astonished. "You found something?" she repeated carefully.

"I think so," Ron said cautiously. "Here, listen." He cleared his throat and read aloud a short passage from the book:

"Born with the lion"s strength, the one with given grace;
He shall be the bringer of illumination.
On a night forthcoming he shall strike with the edge of crimson light
And will vanquish the dark shadow for ever."

"Okay, this is a puzzle," Draco rubbed his hands together. "No, wait, I'm good at these. Do you think it involves a midget and a block of ice?"

There was silence.

"I"m not saying anything," Harry said finally. "I have nothing to say."

Ron cast a quick glance toward Draco "I thought maybe it was about Harry defeating You-Know-Who."

Harry shook his head. "How can this be referring to me? Like the title says, it's ancient!"

"Harry's right, it is centuries old at the very least." But even as she said this, Hermione tightened her lips and squinted at Harry pensively, looking a bit unsure.

Have they gone mad? How can they think that something as old and as random as this can be about me? Harry frowned in puzzlement and leaned over Ron to look at the page. "How could I possibly be a 'bringer of illumination'?" he wondered out loud. "And what is this 'crimson light' it's talking about? What does it all mean?"

"How am I supposed to know? I only found it, I can't be expected to decode it as well." Ron retorted.

"Does it say anything else?" Hermione asked.

Ron peered closer at the page. "The only other thing it says in here is that it's allegedly by some bloke called No... Nas... Nostradamus." he fumbled, and Hermione's brow immediately puckered.

"Who's that?" Harry said blankly.

"A French astrologer from the 16th century," Draco said at once. "Honestly, why does nobody ever pay attention in history?"

"Muggles everywhere are completely convinced of the ridiculous idea that he could predict the future," Hermione said. "You know, because he supposedly composed prophecies and the like."

Prophecies? Harry stared in dismay at the text. He hadn't quite realised it at first, but it did indeed sound exactly like a prophecy.

"It"s preposterous, really," Hermione continued. "No one can predict the future."

"But Hermione, just look at it. It"s an awfully big coincidence if it isn't about the current state of things," Ron pointed out.

"Well, what do you suggest we do with it, then?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Ron said impatiently. "But it"s more than we had a few minutes ago."

"We"ll need to keep researching," Hermione said. "Whatever this thing is, we should try to find out what it means. If anything," she added cynically.

Harry sighed. "I think I've just about had my fill of prophecies," he muttered to himself.

Soon after this discovery, Hermione determined that they had researched enough for one day, and said that they all should go get some rest.

"Great," Harry heard Ron mutter to himself. "Now I can go start on my mountain of homework. Hey, Hermione!" he brightened and quickened his step after her. "Have you finished with your Herbology essay yet?"

"Yes I did, Ron, and no, I'm not letting you look at it," Harry dimly heard Hermione say as the two of them left the library.

Harry hung back while Draco was still gathering up his materials. "Hey, Malfoy," he said quietly. "I just wanted to thank you for helping us today."

Draco snorted. "Helping you with what? It wasn't me who found anything."

"No, but if you hadn't been so interested in toadstools and traded your book with Ron's, you would've found that riddle in another couple of minutes," Harry said.

"The unsolvable riddle," Draco pointed out.

Harry shrugged. "We may be able to discover what it's trying to tell us. Who knows? It's a start, Malfoy. It's a start."

Before Harry knew it, September had passed, and they were well into October. As summer died, the note of optimism that Harry has held thus far slowly died away too.

Hermione and Ron remained hopeful, and the three of them still examined the texts in the library nearly every day. Draco, on occasion (meaning: whenever he didn't have anything better to do), would help as well.

Harry, however, was not feeling very confident. For over the past month, every free moment of theirs was spent in the library. They had made a sizable dent in the volumes, true, but hadn't found anything of significance besides that seemingly unsolvable puzzle... or riddle... or prophecy... whatever it was. It wasn't long before Harry privately determined that it had been recorded in a book of unsolvable riddles for a very good reason. He did not think that they had a good chance of finding an answer to it.

Even more depressing was that discounting the riddle put them right back to square one.

Harry slumped alone in an overstuffed armchair in the Gryffindor common room, staring silently into the fire blazing in the hearth.

The stress of this task weighed heavily on his shoulders. This, combined with classes, homework, Occlumency lessons, and Quidditch, was steadily wearing him down.

Oh, Quidditch, Harry remembered drowsily. There had been a practice tonight, hadn't there? He must've forgotten about it, as he spent most of the evening catching up on homework due tomorrow. Damn, he thought. I hope Katie doesn't try to kill me or anything, he smiled wryly to himself. That's Voldemort's job.

Speaking of Voldemort... Harry frowned deeply as he returned to these uncomfortable thoughts once more. Their research was producing nothing. Despite what Dumbledore had told them, Harry was beginning to realise that perhaps there was no feasible way of defeating Voldemort.

And what about the prophecy... the first prophecy, the one stating that Harry alone must kill, or be killed. Dumbledore had said that he wished to avoid the prophecy's consequences... but nothing they had read in the library so far found a way around that either.

And somehow, he knew that no matter how hard they looked, they would find nothing. He would face Voldemort at the end, and that was that. It was prophesised, and that's just the way it would be.

Harry exhaled slowly and fervently wished that he could just Avada KedavraVoldemort and be done with it.

Wait a minute. Harry jolted upright, all tiredness leaving him. What if things were as simple as that? What if the solution was right under their noses the whole time?

Okay, hold on... think, Harry, think... he told himself, his heart racing. Avada Kedavra didn't kill him the first time... but things are different now. It had only struck him because it rebounded off of me. But... what if I were the one to cast it? What if it hit him directly, with no obstacles like last time?

Could it really work? There was no countercurse to Avada Kedavra, everybody knew that. Presumably, that meant that all of the spells and potions Voldemort barricaded himself with to stop death were no defence against this, either. It was one of the most powerful spells known to wizard kind.

But how he would get a hold of anything detailing exactly how to cast the curse, he didn't know. The library certainly didn't carry any materials containing direct procedures of how to cast any dark curse... and there was no way he could go to a professor with this... not even the Headmaster. Harry didn't think Dumbledore would like his idea very much.

Malfoy, he thought to himself. Out of all his friends, out of anybody he could talk to about this, it could only be Malfoy. It was only Malfoy who must have some idea of how to work that curse.

Harry glanced at the clock and bit his lip. It was past 1:00am, and Malfoy would be asleep by now. Bollocks, Harry thought irritably... he would have to wait until morning.

Harry didn't get much sleep that night, he was too busy formulating his plan. He was close to the answer, he could feel it in his gut. He skipped breakfast in the morning, and instead went straight to the entrance to the Slytherin dungeon. He waited for Draco impatiently in the hallway, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the other students in Slytherin.

Finally, the wall creaked open and Draco appeared.

"Malfoy," he said urgently.

Draco blinked in surprise as he noticed Harry lurking. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I need to talk to you," he said lowly, and glanced around to make sure nobody was around. He saw no one, but pulled Draco into a small alcove by a window, just to be sure.

"What's this all about, Potter?" Draco asked with annoyance. "You know that I require breakfast all else."

Harry took a deep breath. "I need you to help me learn Avada Kedavra."

Draco stared at him for a second, then cracked a smile. "Very funny, Potter."

"I"m not joking," Harry gazed intensely at the other boy, trying to convey the gravity of the situation.

Draco's eyes searched Harry's. "You are serious, aren't you? My, my, Potter," Draco pursed his lips. "Getting a little wand-happy with the Unforgivables, are we?"

"It"s not about that," Harry said edgily.

"Mind telling me what it is about, then? You can't expect me to just go along with whatever you"re blathering on about without any explanation."

"I"m not blathering," Harry glared at him. "Listen... you can't tell the others I"m telling you this. But that thing we"ve been researching... it"s not for any sort of project. We"re trying to find a way to defeat Voldemort."

"Well, obviously," Draco sniffed. "I"m not stupid, Potter. Dark texts aren't usually for pleasure reading, after all."

"Oh," Harry said. He supposed he really shouldn't have thought Draco wouldn't figure it out. "Okay, so you know what we"re doing. So you already know how vital this is, and how unsuccessful we"ve been at finding anything of worth. Well, I think..." he took a breath. "I think last night, I figured out how to defeat him."

"With Avada Kedavra," Draco supplied dubiously.

"Yes - it"s not as crazy as you think. The Killing Curse has never hit Voldemort at full strength... it only bounced back off of me. But if I cast it..." he paused. "I think it may break through his barriers. It"s the most powerful curse out there. There's only one thing missing."

"You don't know it."

"Right," Harry nodded. "That"s why I need you."

"I see," Draco said. "I can't help you."

"...What?" Harry was dumbfounded. He was sure that Malfoy would be able to aid him.

Draco exhaled noisily. "I"ve told you before, Potter. The only Unforgivable I know is the one I already taught you: Cruciatus. I"m hopeless at Imperius... I couldn't even throw it off during Fourth Year, when that ruddy excuse for a professor put us all through it. Right embarrassing, that was. And as for the Killing Curse, I don't have a clue about that one."

"But you don't know where to find anything on it?" Harry pressed. Draco shook his head, and Harry felt his excitement leave as abruptly as it began the previous night.

"So it"s useless, then," he murmured.

Harry glanced up dejectedly and saw that Draco was staring absently out the window, a contemplative expression on his face.

"Malfoy..." he said suspiciously. "What are you thinking?"

Draco saw Harry was looking at him, and sighed. "I was just thinking that there may have been some manuscripts on this subject at the mansion," he said reluctantly.

Harry felt his hope return. "We need to go there, then," he said resolutely.

"No," Draco shook his head. "It"s too much of a risk. I don't even know what"s become of it now, because of my dad locked up in Azkaban and my mum..." he trailed off. "But the point is that anyone could be there... Muggles, Aurors, maybe Voldemort could even be using it as a hideout."

Harry was frustrated. "But if there's something there that can help us-"

"There may, however," Draco interrupted, "be something at my dad"s old office in the Ministry. I know he had a collection of old books and documents on this stuff. He probably kept at least some of them there."

"And you"ll take me there?" Harry asked expectantly.

"Yes, I'll take you there," Draco said, not looking too happy. "It"s Sunday tomorrow. We can go then."

Harry awoke suddenly and painfully in the early hours of the morning.

"Aargh!" he jerked up in bed, his face contorted in pain. It felt like his scar was on fire.

He gritted his teeth, pressing one hand against his forehead. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he swore through his clenched teeth. It was agony. "Stop! God damn it."

At last the pain abated, and Harry was left gasping for air.

"Harry? What's wrong?" The concerned faces of his roommates loomed over him.

"Nothing," he panted. "Just... go back to bed."

"No, we won't. Something obviously is wrong," Ron said firmly. "Was it your scar?"

"Was it You-Know-Who again?" Neville asked fearfully.

"No," Harry growled. "It was a bad dream. Now will you all please go back to bed?"

"Fine, Harry, if you're sure," Seamus said, though he still looked uncertain. The boys made their way back to their own beds, with Ron giving him a last lingering look.

"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "Really."

When they had all climbed back into their beds, Harry collapsed back on his own pillows with a sigh. The truth is, he had known exactly what it was... and it certainly wasn't a dream; it was real. It was Voldemort again... something had happened. When the pain had left, Harry had felt a strange sense of elation.

He knew Voldemort had just grown tremendously happy about something.

The question was, what was it?

Harry closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again. It doesn't matter, he tried telling himself. Malfoy and me are going to get Lucius' books tomorrow... I'll learn the Killing Curse, and soon this entire horror will be behind us.

When he opened his eyes again, the bright sunlight was peeking through the scarlet drapery. He got out of bed and noticed that everyone else must've already gone down to breakfast.

He hurriedly got dressed. He was supposed to meet Draco after breakfast. Then they would sneak down to Hogsmeade and Floo to the Ministry. He put on fresh robes, and, after considering it for a moment, he grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and shoved it underneath his clothes. Then he made his way down to breakfast.

"Harry!" Hermione waved him over as he entered the Great Hall.

"Hi," he said as he took a seat next to her, and spooned some bacon and eggs onto his dish.

"How're you feeling?" Ron asked quietly.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice sounding more snappish than he had meant it to.

Hermione looked back and forth between the two of them. "Why wouldn't Harry be fine?" she asked, confused.

"Never mind it," Harry said swiftly, before Ron could open his mouth. He shot a quick glare at Ron, and Ron thankfully didn't say anything more.

Hermione didn't push the issue, but she still looked suspicious.

Harry paid it no heed, and concentrated instead on shovelling down his food. He and Draco would have to leave soon in order to make it back before they were missed.

"Ready, Potter?" Draco appeared at his side a few moments later.

"Yeah," Harry wiped his mouth and stood up.

"Ready for what?" Ron's eyes narrowed.

"We're, ah, going to do more research," Harry answered.

"But we always take Sundays off," Hermione pointed out.

"Er, ah... right. But... what I mean is..." Harry snuck a glance at Draco, but the other boy provided no help... in fact, he seemed to be enjoying Harry's bumbling. "What I mean is that Malfoy and I are going to go get some new materials to research," he explained reluctantly. "From his dad's office at the Ministry."

"What? Why?" Ron demanded.

"Because Malfoy believes that his father may have had some books on dark wizardry that may be helpful to us."

"Harry, you're talking about breaking into a governmental building. That's really dangerous," Hermione said uneasily.

"If it'll help us, then we'll just have to take that risk," Harry said.

"We're not breaking in," Draco rolled his eyes. "You Gryffindors are such drama queens. If anyone asks, I'm there on legitimate business of retrieving my dad's personal things. And Potter is there to assist me."

"Right," Harry nodded. "What he said."

"I think we should come too," Ron said purposefully.

"No!" Harry said quickly. "It'd, uh, be too suspicious if we were to all show up."

Ron scowled. "No it wouldn't-"

"He's right, Ron," Hermione cut in. "We don't want to draw any more attention than we have to. I still don't like it, though."

"We'll be careful," Harry promised her. "C'mon, Malfoy, we'd better go before it gets too late."

The two of them left the Great Hall, and proceeded outside, down the path towards Hogsmeade.

"Relax, Potter," Draco ordered. "You're walking too stiffly."

"I am relaxed," Harry retorted. "And thanks for all your help in there with them," he added sarcastically.

Draco shrugged easily. "I thought you were doing just fine on your own," he smirked.

Harry sighed in annoyance. There was no use in pushing the argument... Draco would always be Draco.

They walked quickly, and made it to Hogsmeade in a relatively short amount of time. They hurried up the main road to the Three Broomsticks. "Be sure not to let Madam Rosmerta see us," Harry said softly. "She'll know it's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

"I know, Potter," Draco said with a glare. "Now relax."

"I"m relaxed," Harry muttered again. But he made a conscious effort to loosen up his shoulders and his walk.

"That"s better," Draco said, satisfied.

They casually entered the Three Broomsticks, which was both crowded and noisy. Fortunately, no one took any notice of them, and Harry spotted Madam Rosmerta serving some customers with her back to them. They snuck over to the fireplace, and Draco pulled a tiny bag of Floo powder from his pocket. He handed Harry a pinch, and then took some for himself. He tossed it into the flames, said loudly, "Ministry of Magic!" and with a whoosh, he was gone.

Harry followed suit, and abruptly found himself falling out of one of the fireplaces filling the large entrance hall inside the Ministry.

"Can you make any more of a scene?" Draco asked irritably, and helped him to his feet.

"Hush," Harry said.

Draco led him to the lift at the end of the hall. It was swarming with Ministry workers, many of them grumbling about working on the weekend. Harry and Draco were thankfully able to bypass the security witch by blending in with the crowd. They made it to the lift, and Draco pushed the number for the appropriate floor.

The lift ascended briefly, then its doors clanged open to reveal an empty floor.

Draco walked down the hall, and stopped at a door embossed with the words "Lucius Malfoy, Assistant to the Minister". "This is it," he said.

Harry glanced around surreptitiously, then lifted his wand. "Aloho-"

"Wait," Draco grabbed his arm. "Look."

Bewildered, Harry peered at the door... and saw that it was cracked open.

"Weird," he said softly.

Draco took a quick look around the floor, but there was nobody in sight that may have opened it. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he said, and pushed open the door.

The door opened to reveal a dark and musty-smelling room. There was a thin layer of dust covering the desk and the bookshelves. It was obvious that no one had been here for a long time.

Harry glanced at Draco, and saw that the Slytherin was gazing sombrely at the derelict space. "Malfoy," Harry prodded quietly, and Draco seemed to snap out of it.

"Right," he said. "Sorry. The bookcases are over there," he pointed to the left side of the room and they headed over.

Draco quickly skimmed his finger along the middle shelf, and pulled out a small, relatively new book.

"Here it is," he said. "I knew it would be here. He would never trust mum or me not to find it at home."

Harry looked at the book title. "A Brief History of Scotland?" he asked, frowning. "How could this be the right one?"

Draco, with a glint in his eye, opened the book, and the pages fell open to expose a set of wrinkled parchments yellowed with age. "This is what we really want," Draco said mischievously. "This"ll tell us what we need to know."

Harry grinned. "Well come on then, let"s get out of here."

"No, hold on," Draco said, closing the book again and stowing it in his pocket. "We need to get some of his other books on the Dark Arts, since you told Granger and Weasley that"s what we were doing."

"Oh, right," Harry said, feeling rather stupid. He had almost forgotten about that.

"And hurry up," Draco said, looking around restlessly. "I don't really like it here."

"All right," Harry said, grabbing a few books off the shelves. He couldn't say that he liked it much here, either.

While Harry was doing that, Draco wandered over to examine the cabinet next to the door... and abruptly stiffened.

"What is it?" Harry demanded.

Draco crept slowly back to Harry. "I heard something," he whispered. "I heard breathing."

"You breathe, don't you? In between fits of bragging, that is."

"Shut up, Potter," Draco hissed. "I"m serious. I think someone is coming."

Harry grimaced. Great, just what they needed... they had been so close to getting away undetected.

He set the books on the floor and quickly pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes. He only caught a glimpse of the surprise on Draco's face before he wrapped it around the both of them.

They flattened themselves against the wall as much as possible, for fear of discovery.

"Look at you, Potter," Draco whispered almost inaudibly, "being all resourceful."

Harry opened his mouth to make a retort - and suddenly became aware of just how very close he was to Draco. They had pressed themselves tightly against one another, in an unconscious effort to further hide from the approaching intruder.

They were pulled so snug that Harry's arms had somehow encircled Draco, and Draco's head ended up resting just in the curve of Harry's neck.

"Potter?" Draco spoke softly.

"Eh?" Harry said, caught up in the feel of Draco's soft hair against his chin.

But Draco didn't answer. The two of them rested in silence against each other, and unexpectedly, the danger seemed far away. All that Harry cared about now, was the warmth of Draco's body against his, and the ghost of Draco's breath over his skin.

Harry didn't know how long they stayed like that, but it only seemed like a second had passed before Draco whispered, "I don't think anyone's coming."

Harry twisted slightly to look at Draco in the eyes. "I thought you said you heard someone."

"I thought I did," Draco said, looking unsure. "I guess I was wrong."

Harry glanced over to the half-opened door as much as his position would allow, but saw no one.

"All right," Harry said. "If no one's there, we should go."

"Right," Draco agreed, but didn't move.

Summoning his willpower (This shouldn't be this hard, he thought, disturbed) Harry took the Cloak off of them and stood, and his joints ached with the stiffness of sitting in one position for too long. He supposed that he and Draco had stayed like that for longer than he had initially thought.

Draco stood, too, and treaded softly over to the door, and Harry found himself shivering slightly at the loss of Draco's warmth.

"It looks clear," Draco called back. "Let"s go."

Harry crammed his Invisibility Cloak back into his robes, gathered up the texts, and followed Draco out the door. Resolving not to think about what had, or had not, just happened between him and Draco until they were far away from here, he pulled it closed behind him and it shut with a resounding click.

Not long after Harry and Draco departed, a rustle stirred in the empty office. A swish of cloth, a low laugh, and a glint of long, golden hair.

Lucius Malfoy emerged from his hiding place in the dark shadows behind the cabinet. "So Draco, you're hanging around Harry Potter now, are you?" he chuckled, and his voice echoed sinisterly around the abandoned room. "Well, we'll soon put a stop to that, won't we?"