Penetralis Velum

Chapter One - Back to the house of Black

Harry stared at himself in the mirror and blinked. His eyes traced the familiar lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. His trusty, black-rimmed glasses sat slightly lopsided on his face, sellotaped across the centre from where Dudley's cricket ball had collided with them. There was still some bruising on the bridge of his nose, and his thin lips were slightly cracked from dehydration.

It was a scorching hot summer in Surrey, Little England, but Harry had no desire to be outside. The only time he left the house was when Dudley's friends came over, as they had taken to throwing things at him, thinking they could make it look like an accident.

The feeling was still there, like a heavy rock in the pit of his stomach. It weighed him down where-ever he went. Even on the odd occasion when he felt happy, like when he received a letter from Ron or Hermione, the feeling remained. He tried without much success to flatten his unruly hair before returning to the bed, where he had been lying since lunchtime. For the first time ever, Harry didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. He couldn't even imagine going to class or eating in the Great Hall with his friends and knowing that Sirius was gone. He didn't care about Voldemort, and didn't think about the suffering he was causing. He wanted to lie on his bed, and stare at the wires on the bottom of the bunk above him. Nobody ever said it was going to be easy, but Harry had never expected it to be this hard.

And what's more, it only got worse. As the summer days dragged on, the rock in Harry's stomach only seemed to get heavier. The pain only amplified. As he lay there that sunny summer afternoon, Harry wondered, not for the first time, where Sirius was now. Was it possible that he had just ceased to exist? Harry doubted that, after all, he had seen evidence of the afterlife with his own eyes; his Priori Incantatum had brought back Cedric and his own parents, and hardly a day passed at Hogwarts when he didn't see a ghost float by. He had given up on the idea that Sirius was a ghost; surely his godfather would have showed up by now if he did choose to stay, but what Luna had said still resounded in his head.

In that room with the archway. They were lurking just out of sight, that's all.

Was Sirius lurking just out of sight? Or was he above him, looking down and telling Harry to stop moping over him? Sirius would never have wanted him to sit around all afternoon feeling sorry for himself. Harry had never thought about it like that. He was too busy being upset to think about helping. He should be out there, doing what he can to stop Voldemort, trying to help the Order. He should be finishing what Sirius died trying to do, and he should definitely not be at the Dursleys'.

Harry stood up and walked quickly across the room to his desk where he sat down and pulled out a quill, a new feeling rising inside him. A new sense of moving on.

Dear Hermione and Ron, he wrote. I am sick of being isolated, I want to help. I will be there tonight. Harry

A plan was already formulated in his mind. He would sneak out of the house late tonight, and flag down the Knight Bus. He would journey to a street near to Grimmauld Place, and walk from there so he didn't give the location away to anyone on the bus. It seemed flawless, but as Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's outstretched leg a horrible feeling washed over him. He glanced at the draw of his desk that was slightly ajar, inside which he could see the letter Dumbledore had sent him. Hedwig ruffled her wings impatiently, and Harry let go of her leg and watched her flutter out the window. He slid the draw open and pulled out the letter.

Dear Harry,

Please hang in there. It is important that you stay with your Aunt and Uncle over this summer, for your own protection. I know you do not enjoy it but I have only your safety in mind.

Albus Dumbledore

When he had received this, Harry had harboured no objections. He did not mind the Dursleys when he didn't talk to them, and they were particularly careful not to upset him after their warning from the fearsome Mad-Eye Moody. He had been perfectly happy to mope around Number Four Privet Drive all summer. Now he felt angry. Who was Dumbledore to tell him what was best for him? If the concern was Harry's safety, it should be him, Harry, that was concerned, and he wasn't particularly. He'd rather die fighting than live with the knowledge that he could have helped and didn't. After all, it was he that was prophesized to destroy Voldemort, and the sooner it happened the better.

With that, Harry hastily shoved Dumbledore's letter, along with the other contents of the draw beneath the loose floorboard under his bed and began packing his trunk with his school things. He glanced out the window; it was almost dark. Stuffing the last of the things in his trunk, Harry sat back down on his bed impatiently. From downstairs, Dudley's voice called him for dinner, most likely on his father's orders. Harry suspected that Vernon Dursley had been so frightened by Moody's magical eye that he was too afraid to speak even a few words to Harry on the off chance that Harry might feel mistreated.

Harry got up and started downstairs, halfway down deciding that he might as well take his trunk with him now. He entered the dining room minutes later, closely watched by the Dursley's, who had just witnessed him through the glass panels in the dining room doors dragging his trunk down the stairs. No-one said anything as Harry sat down to his meal. He picked up his knife and fork and looked up. The Dursley's were still staring at him.

'What?' said Harry innocently.

'Wh-where are you going?' asked Aunt Petunia.

'To my godfather's house,' said Harry shortly, suddenly more aware of the profound weight in his stomach as he talked about Sirius.

'B-but, but...' his Aunt started. Harry started to eat, ignoring the continued looks he could feel upon him. When he'd finished he glanced out the window. The orange glow from the neighbours house was the only light he could see, and dark clouds swirled in the night sky.

'Well, I'm off,' said Harry. 'I guess I'll see you next year.'

Uncle Vernon nodded, Dudley and Aunt Petunia stared. Harry turned to leave.

'Wait, H-Harry!' called his Aunt.

He turned around and raised his eyebrows in question.

'Your um, your headmaster, he told me that you were to remain here.'

'Stuff my headmaster,' said Harry, rather fiercely, considering the affection he held for Dumbledore deep down.

Petunia looked worried but didn't say anything more as Harry dragged his trunk out onto the street. He headed to the alleyway where he had caught the bus from before, pushing the thoughts of Sirius's animagus form as it had appeared in that exact place three years ago, from his mind. He stuck his wand in the air and waited. Nothing happened.

'Um, Knight Bus!' Harry said hopefully, giving his wand a quick jab towards the heavens. There was a loud crack and the Knight Bus appeared out of nothingness, skidding to a halt a few metres from Harry. He picked up his truck and hauled it to the door, before lugging it slowly up the steps. Stanley Shunpike watched him with excitement clear on his pimply face.

'It's Arry!' he said, 'Burt, look, 'Arry Potter!'

The angry-looking new driver turned around and looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. For the first time in the magical world, Harry faced someone who didn't seem to know who he was.

'Who?' grunted Burt.

''Arry Potter! Burt, you must know 'oo 'e is! This is the boy that defeated 'E-'Oo-Must-Not-Be-Named!'

A vague look of familiarity flashed across Burt's pudgy face. He continued to stare at Harry until, after a moment, he seemed to have decided that Harry was ok, and looked back to his wheel. Stanley led Harry upstairs, as the bus was quite full. Halfway up the narrow staircase the bus started again with a crack and Harry fell forward onto his trunk, banging his knees on the metal steps. He made his way slowly down the top level of the bus and sat down on one of the leather-covered seats.

'So where are you goin'?' said Stanley, grinning at Harry like a jack-o-lantern

Harry struggled to remember the name of the street off which Grimmauld Place turned.

'Br-Brackleton Road,' said Harry.

'Watcha goin' there for?' asked Stanley.

'Um, I have a friend,' said Harry. 'They asked me to visit.'

Stanley talked to him for a little while about a hag that had gotten of right before Harry flagged the bus down, then left hurriedly as loud shrieks came from downstairs.

Harry tried not to stare at the other occupants of the Knight Bus but found it difficult. Two seats in front of him sat what seemed to be a very large baby. It had fine blond hair similar to baby Dudley, and chubby pink cheeks, but the body of a man. It reminded Harry of the death eater whose head had been replaced by that of a baby in the Department of Mysteries at the end of the previous year. Across the aisle sat a beautiful witch with auburn curls that were so long they fell on the seat all around her. On her lap sat a live baby alligator that was chewing on one of the woman's fingers. She was bleeding profusely all over her blue silk dress but did not seem to notice.

Disturbed, Harry turned to look out the window as the bus bumped along wildly. He couldn't see anything but blackness and dark shapes whizzing by. Occasionally the bus would stop to let someone off or on, and soon the only people remaining on Harry's level were Harry and a young wizard who looked to be in his early twenties. He had short, curly black hair and pale skin. His eyes were very wide and light, electric blue, like Alastor Moody's magical one.

'Hi,' said the wizard, moving from the front of the bus to the seat in front of Harry. He turned around and smiled. 'I'm Rufus. Rufus Ordain.'

'Harry Potter,' said Harry, with a faint smile.

'Wow,' said Rufus, flicking his eyes upwards to Harry's scar. 'Of all the people you'd never expect to see on the Knight Bus!'

'Why not?' said Harry curiously, as Stanley reappeared.

'Well, it's pretty dangerous, I mean, with You-Know-Who back,' said Rufus.

Before Harry could answer, Stanley interrupted.

'We're almost at Brackleton Road, 'Arry,' he said.

'Oh, are you going there too?' asked Rufus happily, standing to get off. 'What's the attraction for you?'

'A friend,' replied Harry quickly. He was worried about getting of the bus with Rufus, he couldn't risk revealing the location of the Order's headquarters.

'Oh ok, well I live there,' said Rufus as they made their way carefully back down the stairs. The bus stopped abruptly and Harry flew down the last three stairs, landing painfully on top of Hedwig's cage. Scowling, he got up and limped off the bus, shoving a galleon into Stanley's hand as he passed.

Rufus was right beside him. Harry noticed for the first time how short he was. It wasn't very often that he towered over someone, but Rufus had to crane his neck upwards to look at Harry.

The Knight Bus disappeared again with a crack and Harry found himself alone in the dark street, dragging his things with Rufus digging around in his brown leather travel bag. Rufus pulled out his wand.

'Why do you need - ' Harry started, but quickly stopped as Rufus pointed his wand right at Harry.

'My master will be very pleased to know I've caught Harry Potter,' he said with a grin. For some reason, perhaps because Rufus was so much smaller than he was, Harry didn't feel particularly threatened. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding Rufus's Stunning Spell.

'Tell your master I'll be seeing him soon,' snarled Harry, filled very suddenly with anger.

Mindful that he was still not allowed to use magic, Harry mustered up all his strength and hit the man in the face.

Rufus fell to the pavement with a thud. Moving quickly, Harry picked up Rufus's wand so that he couldn't be tracked, shoved it in his back pocket and began to haul his trunk in the direction of Grimmauld Place. After several minutes of panting, Harry arrived outside number eleven. He put down his things and massaged his arm, sore from lugging the heaving trunk. He tried to remember what number twelve looked like, and as he did the dark windows and wooden walls appeared before him, inflating like a balloon. He hurried quickly up the steps and knocked three times.

***

Harry could hear footsteps nearing from inside and Mrs Weasley opened the door. She stared at Harry in horror.

'Harry! What, I mean, why, how did you get here?'

'I caught the Knight Bus,' Harry replied, 'it's nice to see you Mrs Weasley.'

'Yes you too, dear, but do you realise how dangerous that was? Running away with no...without even telling anyone?'

'Harry!' called a voice from inside and Ron appeared behind his mother. He seemed taller still than the last time Harry had seen him. 'Good to see you, mate!'

'Aren't you the slightest bit surprised, Ronald?' his mother asked. 'Wait, you knew didn't you! Knew he was coming and you didn't even tell us!'

'Uh, Mrs Weasley? Could I please come in?' said Harry, realising he was shivering with cold.

'Of course,' said Mrs Weasley, standing to one side as Harry pulled his trunk into the hallway.

'I didn't know mum,' said Ron, matter-of-factly. 'Well, not until right now. Hedwig just showed up and I came down to tell you.'

'Harry!'

Harry looked up to see Hermione hurrying down the stairs towards him. She hugged him hard.

'Ron just told me you were coming! How did you get here?'

Harry explained about the Knight Bus, leaving about the part where he was attacked by a Death Eater. No need to upset anyone. Mrs Weasley bustled away to prepare supper.

'Oh, Harry, we have some news you might not like,' said Ron. Hermione's happy expression vanished and she scowled.

'What is it?' asked Harry.

'Malfoy's here,' said Ron bitterly.

Harry took a moment to let the information slide in. They familiar feeling of dislike swelled inside him. If possible, his hatred for Malfoy had amplified over the summer after he'd learnt that Malfoy's parents had been using the information they got from Kreacher the house elf to help Voldemort formulate a plan to kill Harry. A plan that lead to Sirius's death.

'What is he doing here?' snarled Harry.

'He's...well, he's helping,' said Hermione, sounding doubtful.

'Getting in the way more like,' said Ron huffily.

'Malfoy...helping?' said Harry, dumbfounded. 'He hates us! Why would he help?'

'Something about annoying his father,' said Hermione. 'I don't believe that though.'

'And Dumbledore trusts him?' asked Harry.

'Yeah, apparently he does,' said Ron. 'If you ask me I'd say we're better off without him.'

'Shit,' Harry swore. 'He's not here now, is he?

'Yeah, he's in a meeting with Dumbledore at the moment.'

Harry froze. 'Malfoy's a member of the Order?' he demanded. 'Are you two?'

'No, Dumbledore doesn't want students to join unless he feels they're a lot of help, so Malfoy must be worth something,' said Hermione.

'Oh, and we're not a lot of help?' Harry felt his voice rise. 'After everything we've done! What did Malfoy do? NOTHING! He just sat there and laughed!'

'Don't yell at us, mate,' said Ron. 'Tell Dumbledore.'

'Maybe I will,' said Harry angrily. After all, he'd come back to the house of Black to be involved, and was not prepared to sit around and clean. Especially if Malfoy was getting a piece of the action.

'Come on, we'll help you take your things upstairs,' said Hermione gently.

***

After supper Harry sat at the dining room table playing chess with Ron while Hermione read in a nearby armchair.

'Ah ha!' Ron yelled as his pawn took out Harry's queen.

'Damn,' Harry swore. Which was appropriate, for at that moment Draco Malfoy sauntered into the room.

'Potter,' he said, without any emotion, almost as if he needed to tell himself what he was seeing.

Harry didn't look up from the chess board. Ron spun around angrily.

'Get lost, Malfoy,' said Ron. 'Nobody wants to see your ugly face.'

'Oh but I beg to differ,' Malfoy smirked. 'Dumbledore seemed very happy to see my face.'

Ginny entered, without blushing even slightly as she greeted Harry.

'Heya Harry,' she said happily, sitting down at the table beside Ron. Hermione looked up from her book.

'Where have you been, Gin?' she asked.

'Oh I was just sending a letter to Dean,' Ginny replied coolly. Hermione noticed she glanced at Draco when she said this, who was hungrily devouring one of Mrs Weasley's custard squares.

Harry watched dejectedly as Ron won their game, although it was hardly surprising. Harry was painfully bad at wizard chess. But then, he could talk to snakes, and he felt that made up for it.

Ginny challenged Ron to a game and Harry yawned loudly.

'I'm going to bed,' he declared. Everyone said goodnight, including Malfoy, although he was just being patronizing. As Harry climbed the stairs, Malfoy called out to him.

'Potter! I want to talk to you.'

'What?' said Harry bluntly, who personally felt that politeness was wasted on filth like Malfoy.

'I realise you probably don't like me.'

Harry scoffed loudly, muttering what sounded to Draco like, 'understatement of the century.'

'But,' Malfoy continued, 'we're going to be seeing a lot of each other and so I feel that it is in the best interest of everyone that we are civil.'

Harry noticed that Malfoy said this in a much rehearsed manner, quickly and monotonously, sounding like he didn't really mean it.

'Dumbledore told you to say that, didn't he?' said Harry.

'Oh, of course he did, you really think I'd say that spontaneously?'

Harry turned and walked quickly up the stairs, the feeling of dislike surging through him, and climbed into his bed without changing, drifting off to sleep instantly.

***

Harry sat nervously in the added room that the members of the Order had been using as a meeting room. In another situation he would have been eager to look at the information and newspaper clippings on the walls but instead he stared at his lap, waiting.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. 'Harry, I'm not going to waste my time reprimanding you for your actions, because it was your decision. I just hope you realise the seriousness of the situation. Had it been a more capable Death Eater that attacked you, you could very well be dead right now.'

'I know professor but- wait, how do you know I was attacked?'

'The unconscious body of Rufus Ordain was found not far from here last night by Kingsley Shacklebolt. I assumed from that that it was your work. And from the fact that you have two wands in your back pocket.'

Harry had completely forgotten about Rufus's wand, and pulled it out. Unsure what to do with it, he handed it to Dumbledore.

'Uh, thanks Harry,' said Dumbledore, taking the wand and laying it on the table in front of him. 'Anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about was Mister Malfoy.'

Harry scowled.

'Yes, I thought you might feel that way. And I know it must bother you that he is a member and you are not, but he has been very helpful in the information he has provided, and I assure you, he has not done anything more than tell us who to keep an eye on.'

Harry felt slightly comforted to know that Malfoy wasn't out single handedly taking on the Dark Lord.

'I just want to help,' said Harry. 'It's me that's got to finish off Voldemort anyway, so why wait? I mean, the sooner he's gone the better right?'

'Yes, that is true, but you cannot just go barging, unprepared into the middle of Lord Voldemort's circle. We need to plan things like that.'

Harry wondered why Dumbledore often referred to Voldmort as a Lord, when it was clear he felt anything but respect for him. However, he didn't voice this opinion.

'So I will get to help when you've planned everything?'

'I believe it will be us helping you, Harry,' said Dumbledore.

'Ok,' said Harry. 'Thanks, Professor.'

'Yes, now, I have something to give you.'

Dumbledore handed a small object to Harry. It was a key.

'Sirius's Gringotts account,' said Dumbledore. 'He left everything in it to you.'

Harry pocketed the key quickly and stood up to leave.

'Oh one more thing before you go, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'You and Draco Malfoy are on the same side now, so don't be too hard on him. He's having a hard time fitting in.'

Harry nodded and left the room. It was strange to think that Malfoy would even try, or want, to fit in with them. And despite Dumbledore's request, Harry had no intention of being nice to Malfoy, which he proved as he entered the sitting room and found Malfoy flipping idly through Witch Weekly.

It was a hot day and Malfoy had his sleeves rolled up, and as he turned the page, Harry caught a glimpse of something on his forearm. A black skull with a snake protruding grotesquely from the mouth. The Dark Mark. Harry stood in the doorway staring. Malfoy did not appear to have seen him, but apparently had, as he said, 'It's rude to stare, you know, Potter,' and looked up.

'You're - you're a Death Eater!' Harry sputtered.

'Oh this?' said Draco, turning his arm up and looking at the mark. 'No, this is just a tattoo I thought it would be fun to get.'

Harry widened his eyes.

'When did you become a Death Eater, Malfoy?' said Harry.

'Not long ago, actually. A couple of months.' Draco suddenly looked less cheery.

'I can't believe it!' said Harry, 'Why? How can we trust you?'

'Well I didn't have an awfully large say in the matter. It was sort-of like, "Draco, join the legions of evil or you shall suffer a horrible, slow, drawn-out death." What would you have done? As to why you can trust me, I'm helping you aren't I? Risking my ass too, I'd expect a little more gratitude.'

Draco seemed to think this finalised the matter, and returned to looking through the magazine.

***

The days passed and Harry grew accustomed to living in Sirius's house, despite the fact that every room reminded him of his godfather. Instead of upsetting him, Harry found he quite liked the feeling of Sirius's presence that lingered in the house, and found that being around his friends helped take his mind off his sadness. The house of Black had been added to since Harry was last there, and aside from the new meeting room there was a new, friendlier looking kitchen, two more stories of bedrooms for members who were staying over, and sparkling clean bathrooms on every level. As well as that, the shrunken house-elf heads had been removed, much, Harry noted, to Hermione's approval; they had upset her in the past. The portrait of Sirius's mother remained because, as Mr Weasley explained, there was a very powerful permanent sticking charm attaching it to the wall. However, there was no need to be quiet around it now, as several sound proof wards had been put in place to prevent the terrible screeching that followed Mrs Black's awakening.

Harry awoke on that particular morning around midday, and after quickly getting dressed, went to find Ron, which turned out to be extremely difficult to do. He couldn't believe it had slipped his mind until that day to ask Ron about Malfoy. Harry finally found his friend, sitting in the sun on the roof with Hermione and Ginny.

'Ron,' said Harry, 'did you know that Malfoy's a Death Eater?'

'Well yeah,' said Ron. 'I guessed he was. Look at his father; it was bound to happen sooner or later. And he wouldn't be much help to the Order if he didn't have inside connections, would he?'

'I feel funny about trusting a Death Eater,' Harry mumbled, slumping down against the chimney.

'He's had a pretty hard time, you know,' said Ginny. Everyone stared at her. She looked up from the book she was reading. 'Look, I know you don't like Malfoy, and I don't either, but you have to face the facts, he's helping us now. There's no good going to come of sitting around bitching about him.'

'Well I'm glad to see I have some support around here,' said a voice behind them. They all spun around to see Malfoy emerging from the attic stairs. Ginny turned back to her book, and Hermione looked away. It seemed they were quite practiced in the art of ignoring Malfoy. Ron, however stared at Draco with hatred plastered all over his face.

'I came here to tell you some good news,' said Malfoy. 'This morning several Death Eaters were killed by the Order.'

'Unfortunately, you're still here,' grumbled Ron.

Malfoy ignored Ron's comment. 'Aren't you the least bit interested to know who?' he said, smirking. Harry felt sure he was saying that to show off the fact that he knew and they didn't.

'Fine,' said Hermione after a moment, 'who was it?'

'Lets see, there was McNair, Nott, Pettigrew, oh, and my parents.' He said it with no emotion what-so-ever, as if he was listing people he would be inviting to his Christmas party.

Even Ron looked uncomfortable. Harry, who knew what it felt like to lose his parents, felt a sudden wave of sympathy towards Malfoy.

'Oh,' said Hermione gently. 'Are you-?'

'I'm fine,' said Malfoy quickly and with finality. 'I thought you might be interested to know that Peter Pettigrew was killed. Dumbledore told me your history with him.'

Harry nodded, and everyone on the roof was silent.

Finally, Malfoy spoke. 'Weasley,' he said, and both Ron and Ginny looked up. 'Oh, ok Weasleys then. I want to give you something.' He threw something small at Ron, who caught it.

'What is this, Malfoy?' said Ron, with deep suspicion.

'The key to my heart,' said Malfoy sarcastically. 'No, actually it's the key to my father's Gringotts account.'

'I don't want it,' said Ron immediately, with reluctance.

'Well that's too bad,' said Malfoy, 'I already put it under your name.'

'Why?' said Ginny.

'Because if anything would anger my father, it would be the knowledge that you had his money. "A disgrace to the name of wizard," I believe he called your family.'

'But what about you? Don't you need the money?' said Ginny. Ron looked too shocked to speak.

'I have enough,' said Malfoy. 'I transferred half to my own account before I made that one yours.'

'So how much is it?' said Ron slowly.

'About three million,' said Malfoy calmly, who used to dealing with such large sums of money. Hermione's eyes widened, but they were nothing compared to Ron's.

'Three million knuts!' he said with disbelief as it the prospect of that much money was incomprehensible.

'Three million galleons, Weasley,' said Malfoy, smirking.

Ron dropped the key and his mouth fell open.

'All yours,' said Malfoy, turning to leave.

'Malfoy...' said Ron.

'No need to thank me, Weasley. The knowledge that my father's money has gone to what he would deem such an undeserving place is all the thanks I need.' He descended down the stairs.

There was silence on the roof, before Ginny finally spoke.

'I think I'm getting sunburnt,' she said, picking up her book and heading inside after Malfoy.

***

Ginny caught up with Draco just as he was gathering his things to leave.

'Malfoy,' she called, hurrying down the last few stairs.

Malfoy turned around and looked at her in question, pulling on his expensive-looking cloak, although it was a hot day.

'Thank you,' said Ginny. 'For the money, I mean. It might not seem like much to you, but that's a big deal for my family.'

'I already told you, don't thank me, the knowledge that-'

'Yeah, yeah, so you say, Malfoy, but nobody hates strongly enough to give away three million galleons.'

'Well clearly you don't know me,' said Malfoy calmly. 'Or, for that matter, my father.'

Ginny didn't say anything.

'Look, Weasley,' said Draco impatiently after a minute of silence. 'If you're not going to say anything I really will be leaving. I can't hang around here all day, you know. Voldemort might suspect something.'

Ginny didn't flinch when he spoke Voldemort's name, as Draco had thought she would.

'Goodbye then,' she said shortly, and Malfoy left.

***