The Prince Returns

Chapter Twenty

Braydon thought that things would be different. Instead, he was in the Malfoy attic. Alone. He lay in the bed Malfoy had provided. He had to admit, the attic was nice. It was nicely furnished and included everything he would need. He even had house-elves. He was just so alone. He looked at the mark on his arm. It still burned, though the pain had ebbed considerably.

The owl that Malfoy had provided was sitting in its cage on Braydon's desk. He watched it. The owl had not been used since his letter to Regan. His sister had not written back. Braydon considered writing her again. He missed her. He also missed his girlfriend. He missed his mother. He missed human contact.

Nothing much had changed since he became a Death Eater, even though it had been over a month. He hadn't done much. He had just looked through more books. Malfoy had bought him a house which he would be moving into soon. Braydon hoped that things would change then, but the house was supposedly close to another Death Eater's house. Braydon would be closely watched.

Hours later, Braydon was still lying in bed, thinking, when Lucius Malfoy entered the room. Braydon immedetialey sat upon.

"Braydon," Lucius began, moving next to the bed. Braydon moved out of bed and stood up straight.

"Yes."

"You have been restless. My Lord and I both agree that you have more than proved your loyalty. We have a mission for you."

"Yes," Braydon said, his heart racing with excitement.

"I want you to get the Amulet of Rah," Lucius said, a gleam in his eye that Braydon did not like.

"How? I do not know where it is," Braydon said, his heart sinking.

"Your father has it, but he is now aware of its precense. You are his son. What would he do with it?" Lucius appeared irritated.

"What if I can no longer get into the house?" Braydon asked, his mind racing. His father had several hiding spots.

"Find a way."

"How long do I have?" Braydon was starting to get worried.

"Halloween is two weeks away. That would be a nice present for our lord. Do you agree?" Lucius demanded. Braydon nodded energetically. "Good. You may move into your new home after that. It is a lovely house."

With that, he left. Braydon stared after him, listening to his footsteps on the stairs. Eventually, he sank back onto the bed. He thought of the many places the Amulet could be. He thought of the many people his father could have given the Amulet to. He thought of how he could possibly get into his own house. Surely there were new security charms. Finally, he thought of what Voldemort would do to him if he didn't produce the Amulet of Rah.

****

The day that the first Quidditch game of the year would take place on was a beautiful day. The son shone brightly. There wasn't a cloud in sight. The day was a bit chilly, but not to chilly. The teams would feel perfectly comfortable in their jerseys. Also, the day matched Harry's mood perfectly. He was confident, even if the match was against Slytherin. He knew that he had an excellent team. He also knew that, even after a few years, Crabbe and Goyle made terrible Beaters. He was sure that the game would be theirs. As he entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he felt even better. Several people in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were also wearing the Gryffindor colors. The only green and silver to be found in the entire room was at the Slytherin table. He joined Ron and Regan at their usual seats. Ginny was to his left. Hermione was still upstairs. As he sat down, he took in the pairs conversation. Harry was proud of the two. They seemed to be really getting along. Even Ginny was finally becoming friends with Regan.

"You have got to tell her," Regan said sternly. Harry was instantly confused. He was only confused further when the two quickly stopped talking when he sat down.

"What's going on? Tell who what?" Harry asked. Ron gave Regan a warning look.

"Ron has a secret," Regan said, glaring right back at Ron.

"You said that you wouldn't tell anyone," Ron said, blushing furiously.

"Tell anyone what?" Harry demanded.

"I cannot believe that you are such a coward Weasley," Regan said, her voice rising. People nearby were starting to look.

"I cannot believe that you cannot keep your big mouth shut," he replied, his own voice climbing.

"I have, but it's been too damn long. Tell her!" At that moment, Hermione walked into the Great Hall. Immedeately, Regan and Ron were silenced. The angry glares were gone and the two returned to breakfast.

"What just happened?" Ginny asked Harry.

"I don't know. What were they talking about?" Harry whispered. Ginny shrugged her shoulders.

"I wasn't listening," she whispered back. The two stopped as Hermione joined the table. She gave Ron a peck on the cheek before sitting next to him. Regan raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

"Beautiful day for Quidditch," she said, smiling as she helped herself to pumpkin juice.

"Oblivious," Regan muttered so that only Harry could hear her. Harry again wondered what was going on. However, he decided that it was not the right time to pursue the topic. He would later.

"I think that we are going to have a great game today," he said instead, helping himself to the food laid out before him. The post arrived. Hundreds of owls streamed into the Great Hall and filled the air. Harry looked around. Several Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch players had gotten things for good luck. Harry himself got nothing. Hermione got the Daily Prophet. Harry watched as her face went pale. "What?" he asked, worried. She was silent. Ron looked on, horrified. Harry grabbed the paper and instantly wished he hadn't.

Braydon Prince: Wanted Death Eater

It has been confirmed by Ministry officials that Braydon Prince, Quidditch Star and son of Richard Prince, killed Nymphadora Tonks. Tonks was killed on September tenth. The murderer used a Muggle knife. Until recently, the murderer was not identified. Today, it has been announced that Braydon Prince has been identified as the killer. Be careful: Braydon Prince is to be handled with great caution. Consider him armed and dangerous. The Ministry is offering a reward for any information on him. It may be assumed that Braydon Prince is working with or for You-Know-Who.......

Harry had to stop. He couldn't read any more. He put the paper down. Regan saw the headline for the first time. He saw the look of horror on her face and wished that he hadn't let her see the paper. Ron grabbed it to see what the fuss was about.

"Oh no," he muttered. Hermione finally took her paper back and read the rest of the article.

"They aren't saying who told them...." Hermione said.

"Is that supposed to help?" Regan demanded. Harry looked around the room. Dozens of students got the Daily Prophet. These students were now turning in their seats to stare at Regan. Other students were crowding around those who had the newspaper, reading. There was suddenly a buzz about the room. Harry felt his stomach sinking. News travelled very fast at Hogwarts. Harry, along with several other students, looked to the staff table. Richard was not in his seat. Harry couldn't remember if he had been there before the post or not. He probably had things to take care of. Harry turned back to Regan. She had her face buried in her hands.

"Regan, it'll be okay," Hermione said.

"It's your brother. You have no control over him," Ginny offered.

"I have to get out of here," she mumbled and stood. Harry noticed that she was shaking. Still, she held her head high and walked out of the Great Hall. Several students watched her go, whispering to each other. Harry stood to go after her, but Ginny grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Let her go," she said simply. Harry complied.

In the end, he gave her about twenty minutes. While everyone else went to the Quidditch pitch, he went upstairs to the Gryffindor tower, hoping she was there. He was in luck. She was in the common room, sitting in a chair by the window. She appeared to be deep in thought. He sat next to her.

"Regan," he whispered. She turned to him. Her eyes were red, but he did not think that she had been crying. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said in a strong voice. "We knew that this would happen. It was just a matter of time before everyone found out. Most people knew my brother had joined the Dark Side. This just confirms their suspicions."

"It won't be like before. It won't be like after what happened last Halloween. This has nothing to do with you."

"I know Harry. There will be a few students who will blame me, but most of them know me well enough now to ignore my brother. But this makes it real, Harry," she said, her voice cracking.

"What do you mean?" he asked, placing his hand on top of hers on the arm rest, trying to comfort her.

"Before, I could always pretend that it wasn't true. That Braydon hadn't joined them. He was always gone. Always off playing Quidditch. I was able to pretend that that was what he was doing. He wasn't following Voldemort. He was playing Quidditch. Even after the attack in April, I just kept thinking that it was a mistake. Braydon would be home any minute. Even after he killed Tonks, I could pretend that someone else had done it. Not my brother because he was just a Quidditch player, nothing else. No one else knew the truth. Now, everyone knows. I can't pretend any more. My brother is a Death Eater and everyone knows it," she said, crying. Harry leaned forward and embraced her. He could hear her sobbing, feel her tears through his shirt. He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. "Everyone's leaving me, Harry. Gretchen... Mom.... Braydon. I'm a dangerous person to know, Harry."

"I won't go anywhere," he promised. He could hear the crowd gathering outside. Regan heard it to. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Quidditch," she said, forcing a smile.

"You don't have to play. I can find someone else," he offered.

"Are you kidding?" she said, giving an honest smile. "Do you want to forfeit to Slytherin?"

"No. Let's go Prince," he said, standing. She followed.

****

Harry was one of the last players to leave the locker room. Because of his talk with Regan, he had arrived in the locker rooms once everyone else had already changed. Then he had to give a little pep talk before the game. Then he had to get dressed himself. By the time he finally left the locker rooms, all of the other players were waiting at the entrance to the pitch, ready to go out. He left the locker room and meant to join them. However, he heard voices down the hall in the other direction. He thought that he recognized one of them. Curiosity overcame him and he followed the voices. The hall was poorly lit, but he could still make the two of them out. Regan and Malfoy. The two were talking. She was obviously still upset about the very public announcement concerning her brother. The two were both in their Quidditch uniforms and the red and green clashed horribly. Despite himself, Harry moved closer, staying in the shadows so that they would not see them. The two were talking quietly, but Harry could make out their tones. Regan sounded upset, Malfoy concerned. Harry was taken aback. He had no idea that Malfoy could be concerned. He did not think that it was possible.

The two continued to talk for a few minutes. Harry glanced at his watch. They should be rejoining the other players soon. Apparently, Malfoy and Regan realized the time also. They finished their conversation. Harry watched on in growing horror as the two embraced. His jaw dropped to the floor and his stomach turned as he saw Malfoy bend down and kiss Regan. It was brief, but it seemed to last an eternity for Harry. He turned and quickly walked to the entrance to join his team. He shook his head, trying to clear himself of the image.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ginny asked, looking at her captain with worry. "You look a little pale."

"Fine. Just a bit nervous about the game," he said, giving her a weak smile. Later, he would tell the others of his shocking discovery.

"Don't worry. We have a great team," she said, patting his arm affectionately. "Where is Regan?"

"Um...I think she's still in the locker room. Should be down shortly," he said, giving her another weak smile. A few moments later, Regan did join them. She gave Harry a small smile. The rest of the team treated her the same; they did not seem to mind that her brother was a Death Eater. Harry hated to admit it, but she did look better. He guessed that she just needed to talk to Malfoy. Harry wanted to throw up.

****

The players gathered on the team. Malfoy and Harry met in the center. The two players shook hands, Harry grabbing his hand a little harder than necessary. Malfoy's expression remained blank, though Harry noticed his opponent's brief glance to their lead Chaser. Madame Hooch blew the whistle and they all flew to the air. Harry looked around the stadium Everyone, except Slytherin, of course, was wearing the Gryffindor colors. Everyone seemed to be supporting the team. Harry had worried that a few students would use the new information on Regan Prince and her family, but no one seemed to care that her brother was a Death Eater. At least, not in the Quidditch pitch. He turned to the stands where the teachers and guests usually sat. He noticed with a terrible feeling that Richard Prince was not there. Moody and Remus also seemed to be missing.

He focused his attention on the game. Regan had obtained the Quaffle. He had to smile as she and Dean raced towards the goal, tossing the ball back and forth, easily moving out of the way of the Slytherin players. His smile widened as Gryffindor scored the first goal. Harry completely forgot about the missing teachers. Slytherin had possession of the Quaffle, but a well-placed Bludger by one of Harry's own Beaters hit the Slytherin's broom and he lost his balance as well as the Quaffle. Regan swooped down and easily caught the ball. As Slytherins swarmed her, she quickly tossed it to Dean, who caught it and flew back to the goal poast. Less than ten minutes into the game, Gryffindor had scored two goals.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught sight of Malfoy. The blonde had been casually circling the field. Now, he sped along the stands. He had spotted the Snitch. Harry turned his broom and raced after him, his eyes searching for the Snitch. He saw it. The small golden ball was just a few feet ahead of Malfoy. The distance between the boy and the ball was closing. Harry quickened his own pace until he was at Malfoy's side. Both boys reached out their hand and sped up until their brooms started to protest. Harry could barely hear Ron's commentaries, but he wasn't listening. Nothing in the world existed except for him, his broom, and the Snitch. Harry reached closer. He could almost feel the breeze its wings created. Harry chanced a glance to Malfoy. The Slytherin was right next to Harry, his arm outstretched just as far as Harry's. Harry tried to push his broom further, but it protested. It would not go any faster.

The two boys were flying high above the stands now. Harry did not know if he had ever been so high. He pushed ahead, reaching for the Snitch. He was so close. For a moment, he wondered what was happening below him. He was so close to the Snitch. It was barely out of his reach. Finally, his fingers grasped the fluttering ball. He held it tight as Malfoy's fingers brushed over Harry's before pulling back in defeat. Both boys returned to the ground, Harry holding his hand up triumphantly. "Good game, Potter," Malfoy muttered before stalking off to join his teammates. Harry was surprised; he did not know if the boy was sincere or not.

The other Gryffindor players crowded around Harry, cheering him on. He had to smile. They had won.

****

The Defense Association was something that Hermione had really looked forward to starting. Harry kept putting it off, mainly because he had piles of homework. Finally, Hermione convinced him that it was time. The Dueling Club was started in the beginning of October and was doing well. Harry agreed with Hermione that it was time to start the Defense Association. The week of Halloween, they announced that the first meeting for DA would be held on Friday, the day before Halloween. Hermione noticed with pleasure that several students were planning on attending the meeting and possibly even joining the DA. She made the announcement officially on Monday. One of her first classes that day was Potions. As she sat down in her usual seat next to Pansy, she looked around the room. She, like Ron and Harry, were nervous about the other students. The excitement over Saturday's game had disappeared by Monday. She wondered how the other students would treat Regan. The news that her brother was an active Death Eater had reached the entire school. Even Professor Trelawney knew about it. The Diviniations professor had ran into Regan Sunday afternoon and predicted the death of her brother and father. Regan had been upset, but was soon calmed by Harry and Ron's stories of Trewlawney's previous predictions.

But Hermione knew that the students could be much harsher than Professor Trelawney. To make matters worse, their first class was with Slytherins. Hermione watched closely as the other students entered the classroom. No one had a copy of the Daily Prophet, which was a good sign. Monday's issue had featured another article on Braydon, but it had been fairly short and on the third page. The students were no longer whispering to each other, as they had been for most of the weekend when Regan and her friends passed. To Hermione's delight, several students had even approached her about the upcoming DA meeting. Then, Regan entered the room. Hermione leaned forward into her seat as the blonde walked to her seat and sat next to Malfoy. No one said anything. No one whispered to their neighbor. No gestures were made. Hermione realized that she had been holding her breath only when she released it. She relaxed in her seat. They had survived the hard part.

Hermione soon found at that she was wrong. Snape entered the classroom and everyone faced forward, sitting upright in their seats. He sneered to the class and approached his blackboard. "The Fatima potion is slighty difficult. Some of you will have difficulties. If produced incorrectly, it can cause complete baldness for the consumer. If produced correctly, it is capable of morphing into the antidote of several different poisons. The directions are on the board. Don't mess it up too badly," he said and flicked his wand. Words did appear on the board, but they were not directions for a potion. Instead, the board had been charmed to resemble the front page of Saturday's Daily Prophet. Several students gaped. Others burst out laughing. Hermione's stomach churned. She looked to Regan. She had gone pale. Hermione heard strange noises coming from her neighbor. She turned to face Pansy. The Slytherin girl was laughing so hard that she was practically snorting. Hermione could tell from the smug look on her face that Pansy had something to do with this. Hermione turned back to the Potions master. He was muttering several different spells, trying to get the message to erase. Finally, he gave up and turned the board so that the other, blank side was facing the class.

"Finally," Hermione muttered.

"Silence!" Snape exclaimed. Hermione did not think that she had ever seen the teacher so angry. Behind her, she heard Ron gulp. "Who did this?" he demanded. No one volunteered. His anger deepened. "Who?" Again, no one responded. "Who?"

The students seemed to have regained their composture, though Pansy and a few other Slytherins were still snickering. Hermione looked to Regan. She was still looking pale, facing her desk. She would not look up. Hermione was filled with sympathy. Regan had gone through so much, and still she had more to endure.

"You are young adults," Snape said, continuing his tirade. "Soon, you will be leaving this school. You will be entering the adult world where you will be expected to act like adults. Such behavior is inexcusable. If the persons responsible for this do not step forward, I will find out on my own who did this. They will be punished to the full extent. If they are in my house, which I doubt, I will see that this results in expulsion or suspension. I do not know if you are aware of what is happening outside of Hogwarts, but there is a war. People are dying. This is going to go beyond petty school rivalries. If you all do not grow up, then you will not last long. Do you understand me?"

No one had heard a teacher, particularly Snape, talk like that before. Hermione had never seen Snape so angry. Still, no one was stepping forward. To Hermione's left, Pansy looked ill. To Hermione's far right, Regan looked even paler.

"No one wants to admit this?" he demanded. "Fine. Class is dismissed. I expect six feet of parchment on the Fatima potion. Also, since you have decided that directions are not necessary, I expect each and every one of you to produce the potion on your own. Due next Monday."

The class seemed shocked. They stayed in their seats, looking to one another. Hermione herself was shocked. Snape was letting them out of class when they still had nearly the entire hour left to go. Not only that, he was doing it on account of a prank played on a student. He had given them plenty of homework, which seemed to make Hermione feel better. He had not changed much.

Later, Hermione and Regan walked to their next class. Neither said anything. Most of the color had returned to Regan's face, which raised Hermione's hopes. The two entered the class and all of the students looked up. Several had a copy of the Daily Prophet. Others were talking to each other in excited tones. Once the two girls entered, all conversations stopped. The students with the newspapers quickly hid them beneath books and under chairs. Regan went quietly to her desk and Hermione followed. The two sat down and Regan immedeatily opened her book and began reading. Hermione didn't. Instead, she watched as the students began whispered conversations, occassionally looking back at Regan. A few students simply stared at Regan, apparently unaware of the meaning of the word "subtle." Hermione glared at these students until she turned around. Hermione sighed. It would be a long day.

****
Harry was in a place he had never been before. The walls were made of stone. It was dark, the only light coming from torches along the wall. The place itself was fairly large, but it was crowded. Harry guess there were hundreds, maybe even a thousand people, crowded into the room. Everyone was clumped together, mainly men, but a few women. The room was hot and humid, filled with everyone's sweat. And blood. Harry suddenly saw all the blood. The walls were covered in blood. There was stagnant blood on the floor. There were actual puddles of the stuff. Harry's clothes were drenched in blood. His white sneakers were suddenly a sickening red color. His clothes clunge to his body, wet. He wondered if it was his blood or not. He could feel pain, his entire body ached, but he did not know if he was bleeding. He looked to the people around him. Several were injured. Several bleeding. All were yelling. Harry looked around the room, wondering what was going on, what was happening.

He finally realized what was happening. They were all trapped. He could not see much, but everyone seemed to be pushing in a general direction. He tried to ask someone, but no one responded. No one seemed to be very nice, either. They all had angry, scared looks. Harry searched the room, desperate for someone he knew. Suddenly, Harry recognized several people. He looked beneath the dirt, the grime, and the blood of those around him and recognized several people. He saw the Weasley twins, one bleeding profusely, the other yelling for freedom. Harry recognized Seamus Finnigan. He saw Neville Longbottom, barely recognizable with a black eye and swollen lip. Suddenly, the room erupted in more yells and shouts as someone appeared. He was hovering over the crowd on a broom. Harry saw that he had come from an opening high in the wall, almost at the ceiling. Harry wondered if that was the only exit. He looked back to the figure in the air. He was wearing a hood, but Harry thought that he recognized the silver-blonde hair poking from the black material.

"Silence!" the man yelled. The crowd obeyed. His hood swayed and Harry recognized hte face of Lucius Malfoy. He had a large cut along his face which was in the process of healing.

"Let us out!" a man yelled from the front. Harry thought that he recognized the voice.

"Fudge," Lucius drawled, "there is no need to shout. I will decide when you have served your time. I suggest that you all get comfortable. I am only here for one reason, the same reason I last visited this Hell Hole. I am giving my son another chance to come forward."

The crowd began yelling and shouting again, demanding their release. Harry was shocked. Draco Malfoy was in this mess? No one else seemed phased by this new information. Harry got the feeling that Lucius had stopped by many times, trying to get his son.

"Not today Draco?" Lucius asked in an almost playfull tone. "Fine then. I will leave you all to it, then."

Malfoy turned his broom and left the through the small hole. The crowd erupted in more shouts. Harry's head was pounding. Someone along the wall began to try to climb it, his fingernails clutching at the stone. His hands slipped along the blood and he fell back to the ground. Other people along the walls began pounding, trying to get out. There was an air of desperation and fear about the place that terrified Harry. He realized where he must be: the Malfoy Manor. Probably in the dungeons. He wanted to get out.

"Riot!" someone near Harry yelled. He looked to where the man was pointing. He gasped in shock as people several yards in front of Harry began fighting one another. He saw the blood begin to fly. Harry turned and tried to get away from those fighting. He made his way to a wall far from the fight. He looked back, sickened to see that the fight was spreading. More people were fighting one another. A few people had sharp weapons and were using them. More blood was flying. Harry jumped as someone tapped his shoulder from behind. He turned around to look into the cold grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" he whispered. The Slytherin was barely recognizable, though he appeared no older than seventeen. His hair was dirty and hung around his face his clumps. His face and clothes were covered in dirt and blood. There were several cuts on his face. His robes were torn. "Draco?" Harry repeated.

"You're a quick one, Potter," Draco muttered. He opened his mouth to continue, but stopped. He looked back to the crowd. Harry followed his gaze. He saw a knife flying towards them, a reject from the fight occuring in the center of the crowd. Harry tried to move, but the crowd forced him back in his place. He and Draco both tried to move out of the way, but there was no place to go. They wouldn't get very far if they went up. The crowd stopped them from moving left or right. If they went down, they would undoubtedly get trampled. Harry was about to throw the closest person in front of him when it happened. The knife connected with his stomach, the blade ripping through his skin, exposing him. He felt warmth gush down his front. He looked down with terror as blood began to puddle beneath him. Draco looked on, not impressed by the sight in front of him. He casually moved Harry's tattered robes aside and surveyed the wound. "It isn't deep. If you get to a Healer soon, you'll live," he said, speaking in loud tones so that Harry, less than a foot away, could hear him.

"But the blood!" he exclaimed as the puddle of blood at his feet grew. Draco shrugged.

"I said you'd have to get you to a Healer soon. Let's go." He grabbed Harry's arm and slung it around his neck. Harry held onto the blonde as support as Draco wrapped his arm around his waist and helped him walk through the crowd.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as Draco shoved people out of the way with his free arm.

"Secret passage. Be careful, don't want all these weirdos to find out there is an exit," he said, staring ahead.

"Why didn't you go with your father just now?" Harry asked, holding his stomach in with his free hand, gritting his teeth at the pain.

"I think that I have a better chance to get out alive with this crowd than with Lucius. Here we are," he said, stopping at a stretch of stone wall. Draco tapped his hand on a few stones.

"Don't you need a wand?" Harry asked as the stones remained in place.

"I'm a Malfoy. This is still my house," he said. He was right. The stones rearranged themselves to create an opening. The two men quickly walked through. The stones instantly reformed a wall, cutting off many members of the crowd who had noticed the exit.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, letting go of Malfoy and leaning against a stone wall. He found himself in a small stone hallway lit with torches similar to those in the previous room. They were next to a dead end, but Harry saw a staircase a few yards down the hallway.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who were all those people?" Harry asked, panting. Red dots began to cloud his vision as the pain increased.

"Are you all right, Potter?" Draco asked, looking annoyed at the other boy's questions. Draco looked up without surprise as footsteps were heard on the staircase. "He's here."

"Who?" Harry demanded. Draco did not respond. He did not have to. Someone had reached the bottom of the stairs. Harry needed no introduction. He would never forget those red eyes.

"Hello, Harry," Lord Voldemort said before raising his wand. Harry sank to the floor, the pain cursing thoughout his body too much for him to bear. He looked up at Lord Voldemort as he uttered the Cruciatus Curse. Harry screamed as a pain worse than any he could imagine filled him.

****

Harry sat up in his bed, covered in sweat, his sheets twisted around him. He looked around him. He was in his dormitory. He was safe. The other boys were still asleep. For the first time in a long time, his scar was hurting. He rubbed it, feeling slightly happy. His scar was hurting again. Maybe his scar was back again. Maybe Voldemort was in pain. He sat still for a moment, getting rid of the remaining fragments of the dream. He would have to tell someone. He would like to talk with Remus, but he knew that Remus would just send him to Richard. While Harry still remembered Peter Pettigrew's gruesome death, he was feeling more comfortable with Richard since having him as a teacher. So, in the middle of the night, Harry quickly dressed. He put on his Invisibility Cloak and grabbed the Marauder's Map. Over his six years at Hogwarts, he had grown quite adept at sneaking around the school in the middle of the night.

He made it outside the Fat Lady within a few moments. He took out the Map. He checked the two major concerns: Snape and Filch. Filch was in the Trophy Room, doing his usual nightly inspections. Snape was in his classroom. Harry guessed that he was still trying to fix his blackboard. It was common knowledge around school that Snape was having difficulty removing the offending message and has spent several hours working on erasing it. It was also common knowledge that Snape was prepared to murder the ones who had created the message to begin with.

The coast was clear for Harry. Though there were several close calls concerning Filch and Mrs. Norris, Harry eventually made it to Richard's office unharmed. He had planned to go to Richard's personal chambers, but his dot had been in his office. Harry wondered what the man was doing in the middle of the night. He was able to get to the office door fine, but he was unsure of what to do next. He decided to knock. Richard answered immedeatily.

"Hello Harry," he said, a bit surprised to see a student at his door in the middle of the night. He moved aside for Harry to enter. Harry looked around the office with curiosity. He had seen the room many different times with many different decorations. With Lockheart, the room had been filled with his own pictures. Lupin always had an interesting creature in a cage or tank. Moody had had several different instruments used for detecting dark magic. Umbridge had the room filled with lace and kitten plates. Harry assumed that Moody and Lupin had similar offices to those they held previously in the different offices that they now occupied, but Richard had the usual Defense classroom and office. Richard had decorated it with an almost Muggle touch. The books lining the shelves were all leather-bound and expensive-looking. His desk, as well as shelves and cabinets, had been brought in from his home. They were all made of a sleek wood that would look better in a new office building, not a castle. Paintings adorned the walls, but they were not magical. There were a few portraits of Richard's family and friends on one shelf. The frames were black and silver, very official-looking. Harry expected to see a computer or telephone. He was sure that Richard would have both if they would work in Hogwarts.

Once Harry was finished surveying the room, he looked back at Richard. The man in front of him was a very different man from the one that he had seen for the first time in a townhouse in New York. This man looked much older and much more tired. His robes were still wrinkled. He still had bags under his eyes. His hair was still a mess, but everything was to another degree. Harry doubted the man had gotten any sleep in several days. Richard was beginning to look like he could use a good meal.

"What troubles you Harry?" he asked, giving Harry a wide smile.

"Aren't you concerned that I'm out of bed in the middle of the night?" Harry asked. He had been anticipating a punishment or at least a lecture.

"Why? You are out of bed and something tells me that this isn't your first time breaking school rules," he said, nodding to the Invisibility Cloak on the floor. He looked at the piece of parchment in Harry's hand. Harry winced involuntarily. He had completely forgotten about the map. "Is that the Marauder's Map?"

"How do you know about it?" Harry asked, holding it tighter.

"May I see it?"

"Will I get it back?"

"Of course," Richard replied, looking at Harry with curiosity. "Who do you think I am, some sort of teacher?" Harry had to smile. He handed the map over. Richard looked at it.

"How do you know about it?" Harry asked again, sitting in a leather armchair, making himself comfortable. Richard sat in a chair next to him.

"I was never good friends with Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail," Richard said, smiling at the map, "but I knew them."

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Not really. Laura was close with Remus and Lily, but I wasn't. Laura mentioned the map a few times. She thought that it was foolish and would only bring about trouble, but she always said it in a tone of admiration." Richard smiled at the memory, a sadness creeping into his face. Harry was beginning to regret coming to Richard. Richard turned to Harry as if seeing him for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing...." he said, wondering what Richard was doing in his office. There were several important-looking documents on his desk. Harry wondered what he had interrupted. "What are you doing here?" he asked with some hesitation.

"It's my office," he said, shrugging. "Thought I would use it while I got the chance."

"Have any parents complained? I mean your son....and everything," Harry said, instantly regretting his words.

"No, but things are beginning to happen, Harry, and I feel that my place may be with the Order. I've lost my wife and son to the Order, I might as well fight for it," he said, laughing without humour.

"Do you think it's worth it?"

"I don't know Harry. We'll see, I suppose."

"Before, you said that you agreed with Voldemort. You thought that purebloods and Muggle-borns were not equal. How can you sacrifice everything and not even believe in what you're fighting for?" Harry asked, gaining confidence. Richard sighed, looking back down at the map.

"I don't believe that innocent people should die. I do not believe that Muggles should be brought into a war between wizards. While I do believe that purebloods and Muggle-borns should be treated differently, I do not believe that either group should be punished, harmed, or ridiculed. I am fighting with the Order, Harry, because I believe in what the Order is doing here. Now, I have answered several of your questions, Harry, now you answer mine. What are you doing down here?" he asked. Harry looked at the man. He did not want to his problems to become Richard's burden. He looked like he had enough problems as it was. But Harry had come to his office in the middle of the night and he would continue.

"I had a dream. I was in the basement of Malfoy Manor. There were hundreds of people. We were all trapped, couldn't get out. There was blood everywhere. I recognized a few people. Lucius Malfoy appeared on a broom. He was looking for his son. He left. There was a fight. More blood. Draco Malfoy appeard out of nowhere. I was stabbed. He helped me out of the room through a secret passage. Then we were in an empty hallway with a staircase. Voldemort came down the stairs," Harry said, stopping.

"Then what happened," Richard said, still looking at the map.

"Voldemort performed the Cruciatus on me. It hurt. I felt the pain. Then I woke up."

"And?"

"My scar. It was hurting. It is hurting," he said, rubbing his scar, where a bit of pain remained. Richard nodded, his expression thoughtful. "What do you think it means? Do you think maybe I am still connected with Voldemort?"

"No. I think that the connection is permanently broken," Richard said with such a certainty that Harry was disappointed. He had hoped that maybe his dream would be of some help. "But you still would have some of the powers Voldemort gave you when you were a baby. Like Parseltongue."

"You know about that?" Harry asked, suddenly embarassed.

"Everyone knows about that, Harry," Richard said dismissively.

"What kind of power would give me dreams like that?"

"You said you recognized people. How did they look?"

"I don't know. Everyone looked to be the age they are now, but several people were injured. Dirty."

"It could have been a vision."

"Like what Trelawney has? This could really happen?"

"No. Voldemort was not a Seer. Not exactly. He used to have dreams that would tell him what could happen."

"What do you mean?"

"What you saw is a possibility. It could have happened at some point, but not any more."

"What?" Harry asked, more confused than ever. Richard sighed in frustration.

"Every day we make choices, Harry. Every single day. Some create great changes in our world, some are small. But we still make a choice. It could be something simple, like deciding which robe to wear of a morning. What would happen if you had worn the other robe instead of the one you decided on? Maybe a girl would have liked the robe and commented on it. Maybe you two would have had a nice conversation and ended up going out. Maybe you two would have fallen in love and gotten married. But that will never happen because you decided to wear the other robe, which the girl hated. After you had already picked the ugly robe, you would have a dream about what could have happened if you had worn the other robe. You would see yourself with the girl, maybe getting married. Understand?" Richard said. Harry nodded, smiling in spite of himself to hear such an example coming from Richard.

"Why am I just now having this type of dream?"

"I don't know. Maybe you have had a dream like this before, but just didn't realize it. The power is known for its randomness. Personally, I think it is a waste of magic. To know what could have happened."

"Why would my scar hurt? Is it one of Voldemort's choices that caused the dream?"

"No. It was one of your choices. I told you, the bond with Voldemort is gone. Your scar hurt as a memory of the bond. The power originated with that scar."

"What kind of choice could it be referring to? Would it have happened today?"

"Not necessarily. I don't know Harry. Maybe your dream was what would have happened if you had lost the Quidditch game," Richard said with a laugh. "Lighten up, Harry. It is not a prediction. In fact, it cannot happen now."

"What if it was a prediction?"

"Then you'll be ready. Maybe you won't go with Malfoy. Maybe you'll be able to fight Voldemort's curse. That would be a better power than knowing what could have happened, don't you think?" Richard said, standing. He handed the map back to Harry. "Anything else tonight, Harry?"

"I don't think so. It's late. I'll go back to my room. Thanks, Professor," he said, standing and taking the map.

"Richard, Harry. It was nothing. Advising students is part of my job description. I'll see you in the morning."

"No punishment? Lecture?" Harry asked, though he was heading to the door, putting on his Invisibility Cloak.

"Not tonight."