The Oracles of Prodigy

Recna den Eres

Story Summary:
AU fic. Fifth year. Everything Harry expected has become the least of his worries. Crazed love spells, unusual encounters, strange romances, a psychotic oracle and an age-old magic that could threaten the world and also bring arch-enemies together for a single cause.

Chapter 07

Chapter Summary:
And then we finally meet the characters with the title of the same name. That took a while, didn't it?
Posted:
03/17/2004
Hits:
532
Author's Note:
Please review. It hurts inside when no one does. =( Holla.


Chapter Seven ~

The Oracles of Prodigy

Fourteen hours later...

Harry fell forcefully backward onto a soft mattress, but he really didn't pay attention to this. He lay spread-eagle on the bed, his eyes wide in horror and his breath coming in was ragged and shallow and extremely fast. He wasn't sure if he'd ever move again.

He was scared, weary and unbelievably cold despite the fact that he had dressed in warm, muggle clothes with his cloak on when he departed. He tried lifting his hands but he felt like he had never moved his body before. The sensation of moving felt new to him and he was completely confident that he would ever get up again.

"I wonder-...if...Ron-Hermione..." a deep breath, "...Dumbledore-got...here-" Speaking, itself, was a struggle for him and stringing words together had to be the most difficult task. He gave up trying to do anything and let himself fall into a deep slumber.

****

Hermione didn't want to scream because if she opened her mouth she wasn't sure if she'd ever stop. Suddenly she felt herself land hard onto a soft something, and when she opened her eyes she saw that she was lying in a bed. It was a four poster with white curtains and snow white bed cloths.

She lay still for a few moments, her heart pounding and her breath too fast for her to think. She tried to turn her head about, but at the inkling of movement her body protested. Her muscles threatened to seize up again and she did not want that at all.

So she lay there, breathing hard and shivering to her bones. She wished she could see Harry, Ron or Dumbledore, but she really wasn't sure where she was. The curtains blocked everything from view and it would take a miracle or a month for Hermione to reach out and tug them away.

"Sle-...sleep..." she breathed. She wanted to fall back into the comfort of the bed and drift away, but it seemed she was even much too tired to do even that. So she gave up to simply lying there, calming her breath and staring at the canopy above her.

****

Draco wanted to thrash out, scream, yell, whip out his wand and curse everything in sight, but he couldn't. Just moments ago he felt himself fall onto something soft, but he couldn't care less about what it was. He was much too angry, tired and frightened.

One minute he had been standing in the doorway of Dumbledore's office, Potter, Weasley and Granger standing next to the Headmaster. They had told him to leave but naturally he refused. Then the next second Potter was launching himself at him but somehow Draco never felt the collision.

He had been brutally pulled into a mass of swirling color in the middle of the office and had just spent the last fourteen hours screaming himself to death and traveling faster than he ever thought possible.

Now he was lying in a bed, he guessed, his eyes huge discs in his even paler face and his body shivering uncontrollably. He was breathing as if he had just run from France to China and his muscles were numb from being seized up for too long.

He tried to speak, tried to say something to insult the vicious journey he had just been through, but his voice seemed just as tired as he himself. But Draco Malfoy wasn't going to just lie there for an eternity, not a chance. Sure he wanted to just sleep his life away and not have a care in the world, but what would Potter be doing?

Famous Harry Potter wouldn't just sit back and try to do nothing. He would heave himself up and find out where he was. So Draco spent what felt like the rest of the year struggling to lift his hand so he could pull back the white curtains.

****

Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs, his head threatening to burst open at every key he hit. His arms and legs were flailing every which way and his heart was pounding five thousand beats a second. He was colder than ice and his muscles were crying out in objection to his rapid movements, but Ron took no heed to any of this.

He had long since stopped falling and was now lying on a white lined bed, but his mind was still stuck in the overwhelming experience of the portal. His eyes were sealed shut and he didn't even hear the curtains around him being yanked open or the hands on his shoulders that were rapidly shaking him to shut up.

"Ron!" someone's voice cried, almost failing to be heard above the roar he, himself, was creating.

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" He was calming down a little bit.

"RON! Open your eyes!!!"

Ron's eyes snapped open and he took the time to stop screaming abruptly and rest his voice. Standing over him was Harry, face very pale and his eyes very wide.

"Ha-Har-...Ha-" Ron stuttered, his breathing still too shallow for speech. Harry nodded his head to the unasked question and brought Ron up to a sitting position. Ron swayed a little at his sudden movement but steadied himself nonetheless. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and grasped the sides of the bed cloth.

"Just-just take some...deep-...deep..." Harry attempted to say, but it seemed he still hadn't adjusted from the trip. For awhile there was silence between them, interrupted by the ragged breathing of the two boys. Harry was leaning against the frame of the bed and Ron was twisting the white linen in his fingers, for his lungs stung from the cold air surrounding them.

****

Harry could still feel the aftermath of the trip flowing through his body. Sure he had fallen asleep and had rested for a fair time, but he was still tired and the struggle to get out of bed and shut Ron up had drained him once more. But now that his best friend had calmed down, Harry took this time to examine the room which they were in.

It was circular, giving him the sense that this was a tower. It was quite large, probably ten times larger than Gryffindor Tower back home. The walls, floor and ceiling was all made from stone like at Hogwarts, but this place was nothing like Hogwarts. There were flambeaux lining all around the wall and one tremendous chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. None of the candles in any of these were lit, though, because sun was pouring in from the five high windows evenly spread out through the room.

There were about four four-poster beds circling the room; each one with the same white hangings as the next. The one Harry had been in was one of the center ones, and Ron's was next to his. The two end beds had their curtains drawn. Each was spaced out a fair amount, for Harry had walked quite a distance to Ron's bed and in the spot that could have held a fifth bed was an intricately carved door.

"Where are we?" Ron finally said, getting to his feet gingerly.

"Enol?" Harry suggested, walking to one of the windows between Ron's bed and his. He peered outside it and saw a luscious forest stretching from almost the tower's edge till as far as the eyes could see. The sun was glowing brilliantly in the sky and the green radiance from the plant life all around made the place almost glow like an emerald. "But how could it be?" Harry protested quietly.

"What? What do you mean?" Ron asked, walking into the middle of the room and staring up at the extravagant chandelier.

"This place. How could it be Enol? Dumbledore said it was a land of banishment. If this is where you go to get banished I wouldn't mind living here." His statement wasn't meant for laughter. Harry turned away from the window and found Ron staring confused at him. "What?"

Ron pointed to him. "You. What-what are you wearing?"

Confused as well, Harry looked down at himself. He expected to see his muggle clothing he had donned that morning, but no--it wasn't there. He was white. His cloak and the rest of his attire were gone and all he was wearing was a soft, loose white tunic and trousers. He looked up to Ron and suddenly noticed that his clothing duplicated his own.

"Wow, I never even realized that until now," Harry told him. He felt the fabric in his hand and noted that it was incredibly soft and perfectly comfortable. He lifted the hem of his trouser leg and found snow white boots to match.

"Just like in my dream," Ron commented. His voice was obviously full of worry, but he did not continue the subject.

Suddenly there was a low grumble from the right end bed and Harry and Ron both whipped around to it and slowly backed away. Another grumble, a cough, and then the curtain was slowly pulled back, revealing Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy?!" Harry and Ron both exclaimed together. Draco was sitting at the end of his bed and was slowly rubbing his head.

"That was worse than hel-"

"What are you doing here?!" Ron demanded, though his strained voice didn't really strike either Harry or Draco as forceful. It seemed that Draco hadn't really comprehended who was talking to him or where he was until that very moment, because after Ron questioned him Draco's head snapped up and he stared at them both with astonishment.

"Weasley? Potter?!" he bellowed, standing up and looking at them. "What are you...where am I...what are you wearing?" he said, pointing at them and staring around the room.

"Harry, I thought you pushed him out of the room," Ron cried, turning on Harry. Harry was taken aback by his remark.

"I attempted to, but if you didn't notice, the portal kind of got in my way," he replied, defending himself. Draco was silently being enraged by the fact that he didn't know where he was.

"Well, you could have shifted over and knocked him down the stairs instead of diving head first into the portal," Ron suggested. Harry threw his hands up.

"And I would do that when, while I was flying through the air?"

Draco now looked down at himself, for his clothes were more or less the exact same as Harry and Ron's. "What the bloody-what am I wearing?!" he demanded.

"Why don't you just stuff it, Malfoy," Ron offered. Draco rounded on the two boys.

"Tell me where I am, Potter. Tell me why you were in Dumbledore's office, why there was this thing in the middle of the room, why I was traveling at a billion miles per second for fourteen hours, why I'm here, where I am and why in hell's name am I dressed like this!"

"I don't have to tell you anything Malfoy, but here's a question for you. What were you doing in Dumbledore's office?"

"None of your business," Draco spat.

Ron shrugged. "We don't get an answer, you don't get an answer. Fair both ways."

"Hey, I asked you idiots first."

"If we're the idiots why is it you haven't a clue where you are?" Ron hissed.

Harry shook his head. "Could you two just shut up for a minute? We still need to get Hermione." Draco tossed his hands in the air.

"I don't believe this! Stuck with the 'Golden Trio' again. When will the torture ever stop," he grumbled.

"How about all three of you shut up?!" a voice demanded; and the three boys spun around to the last bed with the hangings still drawn.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Hermione, is that you?"

Hermione sighed heavily and lowered her tone back to politeness. "Yes Harry, it's me."

A hand then protruded from behind the white curtain and was slowly slid to the side; and there was Hermione, looking as weather beaten and tired as any of them. She too wasn't wearing the clothes she had started out in, but instead looked as though she just stepped out from the eleventh century.

Her white dress was cut low and square at the neck and her bell sleeves reached all the way to the floor. The bodice hugged her but was still lose and a shining white cord was tied around her waist. The skirt of the dress was long and flowing and it branched out all around her feet.

"Nice outfit," Harry said, nodding a head at her. Hermione looked down at herself and just sighed.

"I know, I know. It scared me too." She walked over to them slowly. "So," she began, eyeing Malfoy. "You got pulled into the portal as well?" Malfoy stared blankly at her.

"A portal?" he asked in his usual drawl. "So that thing was a portal? A portal to what? Where are we?"

Harry answered him, but his head was looking and leaning toward the door at the other side of the room. "A whole 'other world." His eyes narrowed behind his round glasses and he began slowly walking toward the door.

"What's the matter with you, Potter?" Draco asked, trying not to sound hostile because he was too tired.

"Wait," Harry said, holding up a hand to silence him. "I think I hear someone." He walked quietly all the way up to the door and pressed his ear against the smooth, cool wood. Draco, Hermione, and Ron stayed where they were. Then the voice of a person sounded from the hall outside.

"All this screaming and yelling. Honestly, you'd think that people were here." Then Harry pulled back quickly for the door to their room was swung open and a boy stood in the doorway.

He was very small and looked to be around ten years of age. He had what looked like used be brown hair, but the sun had worn it down to a soft golden brown. His eyes were pale blue and he wore the same white clothing as Harry, Ron and Draco.

Everyone in the room froze, from Draco on the bed to the boy in the doorway. The boy had one hand on the door handle while the other was poised in the air, an apple clutched in his hand and halfway to his mouth. Harry just stared at him and he stared back. The boy's face didn't change in the slightest, but he just continued to stare. His eyes darted around, taking in Hermione, Ron and Malfoy. Minutes passed.

Then, very slowly, he backed out again, bringing the door to a close after him. It shut with a soft click and still no one moved. Then the boy's frightened voice echoed to them from outside in the hall.

"CRYSTAL!!! Crystal, there are people here!!! Real people!!!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and even Draco were speechless.

****

Leo was running down the corridors and stairways, banging off the walls and yelling at the top of his lungs. It was the first time in centuries that he had ever acted like the child that he was.

"Crystal!" he screamed, trying hard to suppress a strange smile that kept creeping onto his face at the pure joy of running around and yelling. "Real people! There are real people! Crystal! Crys-" Leo stopped mid-sentence, and for good reason.

He had just run headlong into a tall something standing in the hallway he was in. The impact bounced Leo backward, but the tall something did not move one bit. Shaking his head to grab back his focus, Leo looked up into the face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore, sir!" Leo exclaimed, his fear dissolving into surprise and happiness. "Professor, when did you get here? We had no idea you were--...we thought you'd come in January. Not that I'm not glad---but...Wow, you're here!" He launched himself at Dumbledore's middle and hugged him tight. Dumbledore gasped a bit, but began to laugh and hugged him back in turn.

Dumbledore didn't mind this kind behavior, for he understood their isolation. He was the only person who ever came to visit them, so naturally they looked to him as a grandfather figure.

"I am so very sorry that we came on such short notice, but we had no other choice. Things haven't been improving in our world," Dumbledore explained, but Leo pulled himself away with a puzzled look on his face.

"We? Who's we?" Leo asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dumbledore apologized. "I forgot to mention this, but I brought Harry Potter with me. Him and the other two I mentioned to you: Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. It seems, though, that I have misplaced them somewhere." He smiled wearily down at Leo whose face averted to true realization.

"Oh...oh!!! Okay, well...professor, I think I already found them." And with that Leo beckoned the headmaster to follow him and led him back to the room he had moments ago been running from. With small ease and gentleness, Leo pushed the door open to the room. He peeked his head in once more and saw the four students standing in exactly the same places he had left them. "Well, here there are!" Leo exclaimed, and pushed the door all the way open.

"Dumbledore!" the raven-haired boy cried. He had green eyes and a lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. This was surely Harry Potter himself, Leo thought, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "And to you Miss Granger, Mr., Weasley and...oh, I dare say! Mr. Malfoy, do I guess right when I say that you were accidentally pulled into the portal as well?"

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," the fair-haired boy replied. He was sitting on one of the beds with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked even more fatigued than anyone else in the room, and Leo noted that there was something odd about him.

Something in his past, for he could feel it radiating off him. He could have easily just used his magic to find out what that something was right then and there, but Leo was a polite boy and the invasion of someone's past was not polite at all.

"Professor," the girl suddenly said, stepping forward. Leo remembered her as Hermione; the one Crystal had put the spell upon. "Sir, are we in Enol? Did we make it? Are the Oracles here?"

Leo stiffened a bit. Dumbledore only smiled down at him and then addressed the others.

"Yes, Hermione. I am glad to say we made it here safe and sound. No injuries that I can see on any of you and I perceive that the journey went just as well."

"Well?! What do you mean 'well'? It didn't go well!" Ron and Draco burst out at the same time. They glared at each other afterward, but Dumbledore's eyes twinkled joyously.

"Oh, yes, well. I believe it is my fault that the journey was a bit--intense--for you. I should have emphasized on it a bit more. But it is in the past now and now you are forewarned. But to pressing matters..."

Dumbledore turned around and closed the door to the room so as to add privacy. Leo, wondering why he was nervous to move in front of strangers in his own home, ran happily to one of the beds in the room and plopped down onto it. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco said nothing. The trio smiled kindly at him, but the blonde one, Draco Malfoy, never even glanced up. Leo wasn't offended for his lack of politeness or anything, but instead felt sorry for him. He looked awful.

Sighing hard, his happy face lost to him now, Leo slid off the bed and walked all the way to Draco. The boy did not look up until he was only a few feet away; and when he did he just stared at him with the slight air of surprise. The other three were simply watching, puzzled, and Dumbledore just stood by the door, watching and not saying a word.

****

The kid stopped inches away from Draco's face and leaned in to inspect him closer. Draco, on his part, leaned away. It wasn't common for him to have people stare at him or invade his atmosphere. Then the boy waved a hand over Draco's eyes and he couldn't help but slide a little back on the bed. He also wasn't certain where he was either and this tiny excuse for a boy made him uneasy.

Then the boy turned to Dumbledore and said something to him, but of what he said, Draco had no idea. The words that came from him, if they were words at all, were nothing that sounded remotely like English...let alone French, German and even that weird Bulgarian that Viktor Krum spoke.

"S'ereth ssen kard," he began, "S'ereth ssen kard gnid ould mih. Ton nevei nace es ohweh si. S'taht ton thgir."

Silence. Harry looked at the boy in a similar way as Draco, with a thoroughly confused glare, and Ron and Hermione first stared at each other in puzzlement and then to the Headmaster. Draco's eyes darted to Dumbledore in turn, wondering what he thought about this gibberish, but he only nodded and said something in return.

"Yes, I have seen it too. His life is very well hidden and for the years I have had him as a student I have worked hard to reveal it." Draco heard this, but didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Alright then, if that's the way you feel," he mumbled, scooting to the side and stomping up to Dumbledore. "Professor, I haven't a clue where I am! I don't know what you and Potter had planned; why they were in your office and what you're doing here; and to be totally honest, I couldn't care less, so please don't be obligated to tell me. But I want to know what I'm doing here, how I got here, and where here is. Please Professor, tell me something." And to his amazement, he fixed Dumbledore with his cold grey eyes; a stare with an intense power all its own.

Dumbledore neither flinched nor retorted. He stared hard at Draco, his own blue eyes twinkling powerfully as his folded hands slowly rested themselves on Draco's shoulders. Draco twitched a little but otherwise did nothing. Then he spoke to him, his voice cut down to a whisper so only he could hear.

"Mr. Malfoy, a few months ago, if we came here like this, you would have never come to me at all. I know you, and I find that I am safe to say that you and your family never truly accepted me." Draco did not blush at all, but he looked to the ground in response. Dumbledore continued. "But that was before. Lately I have sensed a severe change in you. One that I must say I like-"

"I haven't changed," Draco interrupted, but Dumbledore went on as though he hadn't heard him.

"-but as much as I like this change it is a drastic change nonetheless. Something's wrong with you Draco, and I wish to find out what it is." Malfoy looked up at him, his face a little blundered. The Headmaster was terribly, terribly, off subject now.

"Sir, I also would like to know some answer all my own," he replied, his voice like stone. Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well. Let us make a deal. I tell you everything you need to know, and in return I hear your side of the story about your change. And, might I add, it is one that involves my strongest concern, is it not?" The wise man raised his eyebrows at him, and Draco nodded slowly back. "All is settled then. Leo," he called, and the boy ran up to him and stood waiting for instructions. "Mr. Malfoy and I will be on the first floor, catching one another up on a few things. I want you to stay with these three and help them become familiar with this place. We will, hopefully, not be long."

Draco gulped. It wasn't the prospect of telling Albus Dumbledore about his Mark and the Dark Lord's hidden planning that made him nervous. No, it was the result of someone else. He clutched his left arm and tried not to think of what Voldemort would do to him if he ever found all this out; and he prayed that it would be a long, long time.

But as the thoughts of severe punishment swam through his mind, Draco felt no need to simply not tell Dumbledore everything. He didn't know when he had decided it, but somewhere along the lines of running to the office and the fourteen hour journey, did he promise himself that he would reveal everything to the Headmaster.

Oh god, he thought angrily at himself. I'm turning good.

"Professor," Harry started, taking a step toward him. "I don't mean to sound eager but, are we going to meet the Oracles?" He sounded hopeful, yet undoubtedly afraid.

"Yes Harry, you will. In fact, you, Ron and Hermione are going to get acquainted with one of them while I am gone." Harry smiled weakly in response as Dumbledore led Draco out the door. Before he left, however, he poked one head in and said, "Harry. Ron. Hermione, meet Leo Tiara. The second Oracle of Prodigy and Dweller of the Past."

The last thing Draco saw before the door closed over his vision was Potter, Granger and Weasley's faces, mouths hanging open and eyes staring at the small, and very cheerful, little boy.

****

"So you have your own language?" Hermione asked Leo, her fascination obvious. The boy nodded happily. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed. Harry had to agree.

It had only been a few hours, but it was remarkable at how comfortable they had become with one another. Then again, the boy's natural friendly nature did help a lot.

They were all sitting in the room where Dumbledore had left them, Harry and Hermione sitting on one bed and Ron and Leo on the one across. They hadn't ventured out of the room to familiarize themselves with the place, but instead got to know each other better; and Harry really liked Leo; and it looked as though Ron and Hermione agreed with him.

"So, you and your sister just made up a language or something? Just out of the blue like that?" Ron asked, very interested. Leo shook his head this time.

"No, we didn't make one up Ron, sir," he replied. Ron flinched a little.

"Er-Leo? You know you don't have to call me sir. I'm not very fond of it anyway," he said. Leo looked embarrassed.

"Sorry again. I didn't mean to. It's just the only person I've ever spoken to that isn't my sister is Dumbledore, and I always call him sir." He beamed at them, but Harry knew that his smile was just as weak as Ron's or Hermione's.

Over the two or three hours that Malfoy and the Headmaster had been gone, Leo had told them about his life as a banished Oracle. Through the entire thing he had stayed as cheerful as he had began, his hands throwing themselves this way and that for exaggeration. But everything he told them was not something one could be happy about. Actually, nothing he told them could one be happy about.

Leo explained that there was a higher being, more powerful than anyone could imagine, and that this being stayed up there, somewhere. The Higher Being is the one that granted the Oracles their power. Since the beginning of time the Higher Being was in charge of everything, his creations, his worlds and his children.

But overtime more things had to be put under his watching eye and it became harder and harder to keep track. He needed some way to get the responsibilities off his hands so he wouldn't ruin anything. He attempted to leave the fates of his children in their own hands, allowing them to make choices and the like on their own, letting them choose their own path.

But his children greatly abused this privilege and they ended up on paths that would ultimately lead them to destruction. So, the Higher Being created two mortals that would instead make the decisions for them; Leo and his sister Crystal.

They would be granted powers beyond any, powers that were unlimited. Of course, their magic was bound to certain spells in the beginning, but with the coming of age they would be able to expand them. He gave the eldest mortal, Crystal, the power of foresight. She ultimately held fate in her hands and she chose and foresaw the ways that every being could make or take. She was fate on its own.

But to Leo he granted the burden of guarding Life's past, holding its secrets and knowledge. Only these two beings would have wisdom of either.

"But what about people like Professor Trelawney?" Harry had asked. "She knows divination. She's a medium. And what about other people like her all over the world? They can see the future as well but they don't go crazy."

"That," Leo answered, grinning, "is because they can't see the future."

"Huh?" Ron had grunted, confused.

"People like your professor can't really see the future, at least, not on their own. Part of Crystal's job with the future was to help others, and if one's coming was dangerous, she was allowed to help them by sending it to them as a prediction. People like that Trelawney are only the messengers. They deliver the mail, they don't write it themselves." And he continued.

Since he could remember, Leo had been in the tower with his sister. He had never known another life form other than her for seven long years, but it wasn't exactly an advantage to him. He explained to them that when he was only a baby his sister took care of him. She was only five years older than him. But as he grew and learned how to fend for himself, (at a very, very young age), she had slowly lost interest in his well-being.

With everyday they grew, so did their powers, but Crystal had to pay a toll for hers. With every turn of her sight, her power to see into the future would tear at her mind, slowly causing her to go insane. Her other sources of magic, the Unforgivable Curses, didn't help either. So his sister's well-being was placed on Leo as well as his own.

At the age of four he had to feed her, clothe her, watch her and make sure she did not terrorize helpless beings in other worlds. He hadn't always been around, so she was able to intervene in the lives of poor victims. It wasn't until he was seven years old did another human come to him.

Dumbledore had known about them all his life; had been the only human the Higher Being had seen fit to contain the secret. Dumbledore's heart and soul was unnaturally clean and good, making him the ideal person to be allowed the knowledge of him and his sister.

"I think Dumbledore rather liked the idea of having a secret only he in the entire world knew. He was very good at keeping it, even though I know he slipped up a little every now and then," Leo had commented.

But then, only three years ago, Dumbledore had found his way to the Oracles. He had visited them every now and then since that moment, asking their small advice on things, since his cause against Voldemort was utterly important to the world.

"Dumbledore would come and ask me questions on his life, his past; and I would give it to him, for the Higher Being permitted it. Don't you ever wonder why he has always had the upper hand on the Dark Lord? Why the Dark Lord never came near him and Hogwarts?" Leo's smirk was glowing with mischief.

All through it Harry had wondered how this good, joyous little boy could stay so calm and happy about something so tragic as his life. It made Harry admire him even more than he did his powers.

"And all our time here we were given things that would make us comfortable. It was the Higher Being's way of trying to make up for our desolate lives. He even gave us a language, a language of never-ending age and true power. It's really cool. But other than that, that's about it. That's my life story so far. If you have any question, feel free to ask."

Hermione and Ron seemed too stunned to speak, but this was a chance to know things that Harry didn't want to miss out on.

"So, Leo, what are you and your sister then? Are you good? Are you evil?" He tipped his falling glasses up his noise and waited. Leo looked thoughtful.

"I don't think we're either. I would think I would want to be good, but we help bad guys too and I've seen a lot of bad things happen in the past that we make; equal to how much good we do. I think we work for both sides." Harry stared as Ron spoke up.

"Leo, how are you always so cheerful about everything?" he asked, trying to make his surprised voice quiet, and failing. "You live a life that no one could want. Does anything ever disappoint you? You have to take care of your sister, yourself, and you only see one other human once every year!"

"It's better than no one else," the boy pointed out. Ron brushed it away.

"But how do you do it and be so happy? It's...strange, I guess." Harry looked at Ron meaningfully, for he felt the same way he did. But Leo just furrowed his brow innocently and answered him with questions of his own.

"I guess it isn't the life a kid would want, but it's the one I have. Plus, I have my sister with me, she's the only one who really matters to me. What about your sister? Don't you love her? If you had to give up everything in the world you ever knew to just keep her safe, would you do it?"

Ron looked startled. Such a deep statement coming from such a young boy was mind-boggling.

"Yeah," he said, knocking him in the shoulder. "If it came to that, I guess I would. Mind you three, Ginny would probably say I was being an idiot if I did." All four of them laughed, but all of them, even Ron, knew this wasn't true in the slightest.

"Right Ron," Hermione said, smiling. "But back to the subject. So Leo, your language, what is it? What's it called?"

"Ytineres," Leo said, still trying not to laugh. "The Tongue of Ytineres, actually. That's the full name of it at least. We talk in it sometimes, but we do our big spells with it mostly. Dumbledore can't speak fluently yet, but he understands it basically. He responded to me when I told him about the fair-haired boy. Malfoy, I think."

Harry spoke then. "What did you say to him, Leo? When you waved your hand over his eyes."

Leo pulled on a straight face then. "What I said? Oh, I said 'There's darkness. There's darkness clouding him. Not even I can see who he is. That's not right'. And it's true. He looked to be at one point falling head first into the Dark Arts, but now it looks like he's stuck in between."

"Malfoy? Stuck? Between good and evil?" Ron blurted. "Doesn't sound like him to me."

"I think that's the point, Ron," Hermione said. "And it sounds pretty accurate. I mean look at him. Look at how he hasn't been tormenting us all year. He's haunted."

"I think I've noticed it too," Harry injected. Leo shrugged.

"That's what I see anyway. But he's a good guy, really," Leo explained. Ron looked indignant.

"Malfoy? A good guy? Well, I'm learning a whole lot about him that isn't true! Leo, he's bad news. He's an arch enemy to us all, even my family."

"You haven't seen why though," Leo replied calmly. "His past is jumbled. He wasn't exactly broken by his father or anything, it's just he lived a strict life. And with the Dark Arts all around him it wasn't hard for a boy to be fascinated by it all. Plus he's stubborn. He, specifically out of the Malfoy clan, does not like to be told to do anything...by anyone. And the Dark Arts is ruled over by a very bossy Dark Lord. Now he's got that black thing on his arm. Trust me, it's not a dream come true for him."

The trio was silent for a moment.

"I looked him in the eye maybe a thousand times, and the Love spell never worked again on him. Could it be the Mark causing it to repel even Oracle magic?" Hermione said, which made Leo snap to attention.

"The Love Spell?" he exclaimed. Harry looked back at him. "Really? Oh, I'm sorry about that, really I am. Crystal just got carried away a little bit. But I fixed it! I made it so-"

"I know already about the True Love thing," Hermione interrupted, casting a glance at Ron and Harry, who both looked up to the ceiling.

"You do? Well, then, all you have to do is find your True Love! Mind you it might take some time-"

"I...er...already found him."

"You did!" Leo sounded positively jubilant. "Well, did you exclaim your love? The spell should be broken by now, right? See, I knew my spell would work right. So did you? Who is it?" Leo gasped. "Is it one of them?!" he pointed to Ron and Harry. Hermione bit her lip.

"Yes," she said.

"Well, which one?" Leo persisted. She hesitated, looking from Harry to Ron and Ron to Harry.

"Well," she said, going for a weak smile. "It's both."

Leo giggled. "No really, which one?"

"It's both Leo."

"Hermione, stop joking around. You can't have two, that's just not how it goes."

"I don't know what to say, Leo," Hermione went on. "But it's true. You're sister told me so. So as you can see the spell didn't work when we said the-...you know...We just haven't a clue why."

Leo shook his head, smiling unbelievingly. "But you can't have two," he repeated.

"It's true," Harry said. Ron nodded reverently. Leo's smiled faded a bit, but did not entirely.

"But that's not right. You can only have one...right? Right?" Leo sounded frantic, but the three could only look at him guiltily. "Only one..." he repeated, puzzled. But before he could protest some more, something glowed a penetrating bright blue from a pocket in his pant leg.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, getting up with Harry to walk over to Leo and Ron. Leo looked down at his pocket. He suddenly looked very terrified and plunged his hand into his pant leg. When he withdrew it his fingers were wrapped around a tiny glass globe that was glowing with brilliant blue light.

"What is that?" Ron said, repeating the question, but Leo just sprang to his feet.

"We have to go," he said, and bolted to the door. He used all his weight to yank the door open and then turned around to the trio who still stood near the bed. "Come on! We've still got to find her!" And he ran out the door, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hot on his heels.

****

"I feel stupid," Draco growled, falling hard into one of the cushioned chairs around the mahogany dining table. Dumbledore walked to the seat across the table from him and sat in it as well. Draco had no idea why they had to come to this particular room; they had gone down staircase after staircase and around corner after corner until Dumbledore finally saw a door he liked. Draco was already breathing a little fast by the time they entered the room.

"And why so Mr. Malfoy?" the professor asked. Draco glared at him and plucked at his shirt.

"I'm wearing white, professor. I don't like white. I am white."

He crossed his arms stubbornly and stared around the room. This dining area wasn't nearly as extravagant as the one at Malfoy Manor, but it did give a sense of nobility. The room was quite long, with the wooden table stretching most of the length of it. Two glossed china cabinets with glass doors stood on either side of the walls, their dark, ebony color shiny in the light of six small torches lining the room.

Another smaller yet still magnificent chandelier hung over the middle of the table, its feeble light assisted by two grand candelabras on either end. The double-door to his right was the one he had entered in, and the other door on the far end contained no handle but looked as though it could be swung open and closed. It most likely led to a kitchen. And set beside each doorway, half embedded into the stone wall, was a small, clear glass globe.

"Personally I liked seeing all four of you in white clothing rather than your typical black. It's refreshing," the Headmaster stated in a dignified tone.

"Well then, how is it you're not in white and we are?" Draco asked, pointing to his robes, which were the same rich blue as when he was standing in his office. Dumbledore smiled.

"I'll explain the change of clothing to you later, when Harry, Ron and Hermione join us. And must I say, man to man of course, that the white of your tunic makes your grey eyes almost silver."

"Their not grey," Draco said absently, shaking his head and staring at the candles in front of him.

Dumbledore leaned back and folded his hands onto his lap, looking slightly puzzled. "Are you certain Mr. Malfoy? They look positively silver to me. Were they not that way when you were in first year?"

"No," he replied. "They were much more blue than grey. Anyway, that doesn't have to do with me being here, where ever I am."

"Oh no Draco, of course it has nothing with you being here, but it does have something about your change. Am I right?"

"Of course you are," Draco mumbled, not looking at the Professor. "When are you not right?" Dumbledore closed his eyes at this and sighed heavily.

"Many, many times before," he said. Draco was quiet. "But that is beside the subject. All right then Draco, we'll do it like this. You ask me one question and I answer it. Then I ask you one question and you answer it. We'll keep doing that until we both have the information we need. Fair?" He raised his eyebrows at him. Draco held his gaze for a minute.

"Alright then, fair."

"Fantastic," Dumbledore replied. He sat up straighter. "Okay then, ask your question, Draco." Draco did not hesitate.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

"You are thousands of worlds away in the banished realm of Enol," Dumbledore answered. "Now my turn."

"Wait a minute...what? That can't count as an answer, I haven't a clue what you're talking about," Draco started, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.

"No Mr. Malfoy, I believe it is my turn," he chimed, his eyes glinting. Draco sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, falling back onto the backrest. This was going to take a long time.

****

Crystal leaned against the stone wall of the dungeon. She was staring at the door across from herself, her expression bored. It had been ages since she sent Leo to check out what that noise had been upstairs. She could have sworn it was people screaming, but that couldn't be right at all.

"This is ridiculous, what could be keeping him?" she groaned. She pushed herself off the wall and began to head for the door when she was brutally stopped mid-step. Looking back, Crystal suddenly saw why.

The chains around her wrists and ankles were still in place, and she had forgotten to remove them in her worrying state. Sighing, she bent down to unlatch them.

Before the noises had occurred, Crystal was going to attempt her powers again, but trying to fight the side affects this time. Leo had been with her to help and he had graciously returned to his white clothing. As a precaution to her long term absence of magic, Crystal had chained herself to the wall in case she accidentally lost control.

After she unhooked herself, she walked across the dungeon space towards the door. Looking around she noticed that, for the first time, this place didn't look at all that inviting. Then again, it was a dungeon. But she had always been comfortable being in here, all alone, even in the dead of night.

When she had crossed the area of the room and pulled open the plain wooden door, brilliant sunlight spilled onto her face and body, making obvious the horrible stains of brown and black from the enclosed and filthy room behind her.

Shaking her head at this, Crystal went on, climbing the stairs to the upper floors to search for Leo. She checked hallway after hallway and room after room. He wasn't in any of the recreation rooms on the first and second floors, and he wasn't near her bedroom on the third floor.

She proceeded onto the fourth floor, where the kitchen and dining area were located. As she hit the top landing and walked down the corridor voices echoed silently to her from the door farthest down the line. She froze.

Maybe I'm just imagining things, she said to herself at first. But when she began again down the hall the voices became clearer rather than fading away. Who could it be? she thought angrily. It couldn't be Leo, neither voice sounded as young as his. And who else was in this barren land? In fact, who else knew they existed?

"Well, the Professor," Crystal whispered to no one. "But why would he be here?"

She inched slowly towards the double doors, her satin shoes silent on the purple rug and her ears leading the way to the unknown visitors.

****

"So let me get this straight," Dumbledore said, sitting up. Draco slouched lower still, his patience ebbing away. "You were simply in your living room one summer evening when Miss Pansy Parkinson dropped by with her parents. You both stayed in the living room to talk while the adults continued on into the kitchen area. Soon you were both thirsty and Pansy offered to get you two drinks. You stayed behind in the living room, not even noticing a hooded figure glide past the living room doors. Am I right so far?"

Dumbledore looked at Draco from over his spectacles. Draco did not respond right away, for his attention was somewhere else. He had the strangest feeling that someone was listening, hearing them; and it couldn't be Potter or any of the trio because he knew when one of them was around. He'd known how to sense them since second year.

"Draco?" Dumbledore urged, breaking into his thoughts.

"Yeah," he said absently. "Yeah, you're right."

The Headmaster nodded. "Okay then. So you were completely oblivious to the commotion in the kitchens, where Pansy was pleading for your parents to use her instead of you. How did you find this out any way?"

"By-...by Pansy. She told me she wanted to do it...willingly."

"Alright then." Dumbledore continued as though this news was not startling. "So then all you can remember now is the hooded figure coming up in front of you and blackness. Then you woke up quite some time later, a few days to be more accurate, and the Dark Mark was on you--just like that? No more memories of anything."

"Pain," Draco breathed, his eyes set, narrowed, on the door. "There was a lot of pain."

"That's what confuses me. I know from my observations and my own spies how a Death Eater receives the Dark Mark. I could tell it hurt, but by the way you describe it, it sounds like torture."

"Maybe he did more than just put a Dark Mark on me," Draco suggested darkly, glancing sidelong at Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked serious.

"Why would you say that?" he asked.

"Because I've known from my own observations that the Dark Mark doesn't always help Voldemort possess his servants or any other kind of things. The most it helps him do is summon them and help decipher his own kind."

"He's possessed you?" Dumbledore asked, thoroughly surprised now. "I'm afraid you neglected to mention that Mr. Malfoy."

"Sorry, must've slipped my mind."

Dumbledore said nothing of his sarcasm. "But that is all, right? Nothing else?"

"No," Draco said, now not really paying attention to what he was saying. "Something happened to me in the library once and I could hear my parent's voices talking to one another. It was like a flashback of a conversation I'd never heard of." Dumbledore was silent. "My mother was telling my father that something wasn't safe, wasn't safe for me. She was questioning a decision about the Dark Lord. But my father said that she should never doubt him. That he had good reasons for choosing me for...for whatever he wanted."

"And what was the reason," Dumbledore asked, as quiet as possible.

"I don't know," Draco replied. "I never got to that part."

"What was the Dark Lord planning? Do you know?" Dumbledore kept his voice low, hoping to get some more information out of Draco while he was distracted, but he turned to the Headmaster instead and answered him full on.

"I don't know what Voldemort's plan is or how I fit into it. But he said there was 'something about me that could feed the spell like no other can'. I don't know about you, but that really sounds bad."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Now my turn," Draco said, accidentally adopting his sarcastic drawl. "So I'm in a world thousands of other worlds away from home. I'm in a place called Enol where two very powerful banished beings, whom I am not to know the names of, live. You came here with Potter for the specific reason concerning his future and you have a hunch that the Dark Lord is planning something about these people who I don't know the names of.

"I'm stuck with the Golden Trio because I can't get back home until Thursday, three days away, and I'm wearing white because it's the color the people without names like. You're not wearing white because the people with no names like the colors you where and I'm stuck with the Golden Trio for three days."

"You mentioned that last part already," Dumbledore pointed out.

"I like to add emphasis to the things that cause me to suffer," Draco said, making the Professor's eyes twinkle with a grin.

"Well, I guess we have all the information we need then, except for one thing," Dumbledore started, but Draco wasn't listening, he was standing up from his seat and looking all around the room. "What is it Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have this feeling," he started, "that someone's listening."

Dumbledore looked rather calm. Draco was about to demand why he had to be so darn calm about everything when the double doors suddenly burst open and a girl stood framed in the doorway. Draco couldn't see her face, for the light from the high window behind her cast it in shadow, but he did hear her terrified yell as it reached his ears and beat at his head.

"Crystal, wait," Dumbledore tried, standing up as well. But the girl had ignored him and slammed her hand on the globe embedded into the wall. It glowed a dazzling blue for moments before residing to a clear orb once more. The girl never stopped screaming the entire time, much to the annoyance, and anger, of Draco Malfoy.

****

Ron, Harry and Hermione ran flat out through the tower just to keep up with Leo. It was easy for the boy, of course, for he knew where he was going and where everything was. For the other three, however, it was like running blindly; turning unknown corners and down alien staircases. Numerous times one of them had to think quickly and swivel out of the way of a table or statue or the like, but thankfully no one got hurt.

"Leo," Ron gasped, pulling himself forward to become level with the boy. He was glad, finally, for his tall frame and long legs. "Where are we going?"

"My sister," Leo squeaked, his breath coming in sharp takes. "She's calling for me. It's an emergency."

"Is that what the orb thing was for?" Ron asked, yanking open a heavy wooden door and letting the three go before him.

"Yes," Leo replied, stopping momentarily in a break of paths. He started right, then left, then spun forcefully around to the right again. He stopped in his tracks and looked down both paths that curved away around corners.

"Which way?" Harry questioned, resting his hands on his knees and staring down both ways.

"Does it matter?" Hermione answered back.

Ron came up behind Leo. "It does if we want to find his sister, maybe."

"Ron," Hermione started, glaring at him. "We're in a tower. Either path just meets up with the other one sooner or later."

"You and your education," Ron mumbled. Leo touched a wall.

"This way," he said, and darted down the right hallway again.

****

"LUCIUS!!!" Voldemort boomed, his hands clenched and his voice stressing the floor under him. The entire whole of Malfoy Manor shook violently, due to the angry projection of power coming from the Dark Lord. He watched with his slit-like eyes as Lucius Malfoy walked calmly into the drawing room, his head held high.

"You called, my lord?" he asked, his tone uniquely steady. Voldemort looked as though he were towering over Lucius with every second, his rage making him more cunning by comparison.

"Malfoy, where is the boy!?!" he cried, making the sturdy foundation of the house shiver. "His Dark Mark is not responding to any of the number of spells and charms that we set into it, which, might I add, is IMPOSSIBLE!!! Where is he?"

Lucius stood his ground, the grip on his sleek cane hardening. "My lord, I haven't the faintest idea where my son could be. Are you certain he is not-"

"Are you doubting my efforts?" Voldemort hissed, advancing on Lucius. Lucius tensed up his body.

"No, my lord," he replied.

"Good," Voldemort spat, spinning around and facing the fire. "I have enough problems without my servants suddenly finding a spine in my presence."

A long silence followed this statement; a silence in which Lucius could feel the heat of anger rising in his blood at Draco. Voldemort stood very still, his feet spread apart and his hands clasped forcefully behind his back. He was staring into the fire, letting his own anger slowly build with intensity.

Then BANG!!! All the windows in the room burst apart with the sound of a bomb going off and the fire blazed outward from the hearth. A cold, icy wind howled through the room and a deep and menacing crack weaved its way across the floor. Lucius jumped unconsciously back at this all and shielded his eyes from the flying glass. The heat of the fire made him jump away from it and the cold wind froze him to his bones. Voldemort never moved a muscle.

When it all quieted down, the Dark Lord spoke in but a whisper. "Proceed with the plan. Make sure everyone is doing their job. I want not a thread out of place or it'll be your head that pays for it, Lucius. Now go." Lucius bowed to Voldemort's back and turned to leave when the Dark Lord spoke once more. "By the way, Malfoy," he hissed, his hands gripping into his own flesh, hard. "That was only an introduction to what I will do to your son when I find the boy." He turned his head to gaze at Lucius.

"A well deserved punishment," Lucius replied, nodding to him. Voldemort smiled and turned back to the fire as Lucius walked out of the room, his face bland and not a trace of emotion found upon him.

****

"Who are you?" Crystal demanded, walking into the room with her hand held out to blast anything that came after her. She still couldn't make out their faces, for the hallway behind her was bright with sunlight and the dining area had been lit only with candles and torches. Her eyes were taking a moment to adjust to the dimness.

"Crystal it's me," the professor said, stepping forward.

"Dumbledore?!" Crystal exclaimed, squinting into his face. Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. "Oh," Crystal started. "I mean Professor Dumbledore." He smiled.

"Hello Miss Tiara." Dumbledore smiled as Crystal ran toward him and hugged him. Draco was a bit surprised at this sudden intruder, but by an instinct that had been drilled into him, he remained quiet.

"Professor, why-why are you here? It can't be January in your world already, can it? It's too soon." The girl backed away from the Headmaster and looked up to him. Draco noted that her eyes were incredibly eerie, being such a dark blue that they were almost black. It was unnerving.

"No Crystal, it is still many, many weeks until our assigned meeting is at hand. But I could not wait any longer and I simply had to get Harry Potter to you as soon as possible. There was no way to contact you in time."

"Harry Potter?" the girl said, her midnight eyes going wide. "Harry Potter is here? In the tower? Right now? I can't believe it..." She sounded pleased, excited and completely horrified at the same time. Draco, personally, felt disgusted.

"Here we go again," he grumbled. "Famous Harry Potter. Even the banished 'no-namers' know who he is. That has got to be the most-"

"You." The girl was now looking at Draco, her dark eyes startled and yet blank. Draco glared at her from across the table, the sun from the hallway making his white-blonde hair glow. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked positively smug. To most of the girls back at Hogwarts, seeing him in this light would have been breath-taking, but Crystal just returned his smug look. "Draco Malfoy, right?"

"That's right," he replied, unable to help his usual nasty greeting nature. "So now you know me and I know you. Oh wait, my mistake...I don't know you. Who are you?"

Crystal narrowed her eyes. "I'm-"

"Wait," Draco interrupted, holding up a hand to silence her. Crystal held her tongue. "Professor, is this a no-namer?"

"I beg your pardon," Crystal said, sounding indignant and a little amused.

"You can beg all you want but I won't give you either pardon or an apology," Draco answered calmly. Crystal cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, Draco. She is what you have called her, but it is her official name that I cannot tell you about. Not in these circumstances at least. But you are allowed to know her birth name," Dumbledore answered. He would have corrected Draco's rude attitude to Crystal, but he knew Crystal had one as well; and a taste of one another's medicine through some tough arguments would most likely do them both some good. He would have depended on Harry to do that to Draco years ago, but Harry was just simply too civil and kind.

"Tiara, Crystal Tiara. Nice to meet you," Crystal said, though she obviously didn't mean it. She took a step forward and stretched out her arm across the table, holding out her hand in a positive gesture. Draco saw that she looked a little like Granger, just a little more sinister. Her hair was a darker brown and of course her eyes darker still. She was a bit paler, but not so much as Draco, and she looked a little gaunt in the face.

Draco knew it was polite to shake her hand and make a truce then and there, but he wasn't the kind of guy to do something polite. He wasn't raised that way. He father taught him that if they look lower than your station then treat them lower than your station. Draco kept his arms folded and continued to glare. Crystal scowled and pulled back her hand.

"Scratch that, I take it back," she spat, falling into the seat Dumbledore had sat in. "It's not nice to meet you."

"Pity for me," Draco responded, uninterested. Crystal began to open her mouth to retort but something greatly distracted her, along with Draco and Dumbledore.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, growing louder by the second. Then a voice called out Crystal's name and Draco recognized it as the kid's voice.

"Leo," Crystal called. "Leo, I'm in the dining room."

The boy didn't answer for a few seconds, but then they saw a small body skid past the doorway and heard a dull 'ow' from in the hall. Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Leo, are you okay?" Hermione said, appearing in the doorway with Harry and Ron. They were all looking down the hall, their faces worried but trying hard to suppress a smile. Crystal leaned back in her chair, trying to look around the doorway to see what had happened to her little brother.

"Yeah, yeah I think I am," he answered, walking back into view, rubbing his shoulder. "I think I dented the wall though."

"Come in here, you," Crystal said, shaking her head. Leo started in, then turned around to the other three waiting tentatively in the hall.

"I want you three to come in too. I want you to meet my sister, Crystal," he said. Harry looked to Ron, Ron looked to Harry, and Harry and Ron looked to Hermione. They looked questionably into the room, and it dawned on Draco that, because of the blazing light outside, they couldn't see anyone in the darkened room.

Quite the opposite affect of what should have happened, for if the sun was pouring from the windows then the room should have been illuminated. Draco guessed it had to do with the magic surrounding the place.

"Listen to the kid, Potter," Draco called, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. Harry looked up abruptly and searched the room.

"Malfoy? Are you in there? Is the Professor with you as well?" Harry asked.

"Just get in here," Draco answered, a bit angry. Harry narrowed his eyes to no one, but stepped into the room, Ron and Hermione right behind them. Crystal suddenly gasped as she caught sight of them, and they stopped in their tracks as they spied her as well. The tension in the room that had already been there increased with rapid speed, almost suffocating everyone present.

As Leo closed the door, he shut the hallway away from the gaping mouths, the wide eyes, the horrified looks, and Draco leaning against the wall looking as miserable as ever.

****

Draco stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself tiredly. He was slumped back in the chair, his back thrown backward, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and his eyelids drooping over his grey eyes, but despite his fatigued state, Draco looked as though he were all set to join the royal family in a feast.

His clothes had changed, though not very much so as to alter the color at all. He was still dressed in white. But his plain tunic and trousers had been disposed of and he now looked like a marquis on his way to court.

The new, sparkling white tunic and overcoat Leo had shown him was extremely long, looking more like a robe then anything else, with it row of buttons reaching to the hem. Draco did not bother to close the robe, but left it open, not having the strength to work his fingers. It hung loosely around him, and was very comfortable. His shirt was embroidered down the front and the buttons were made from ivory.

His new trousers were spotless and Draco, who cared about what clothes he wore, had to admit that this outfit made him look darn good. He felt and looked refreshed, having taken a long shower before he redressed, but he couldn't have felt more tired in his life, except for when he had woken up after...

After Potter, Granger, and Weasley had entered the room, Draco knew that trouble would arise, and he knew right off the bat that it would be Weasley who would cause it. Sure enough, after a few strained moments of shocked silence, Ron had found his tongue and started screaming at the top of his lungs, yelling at the Tiara girl and mentioning something about a dream and him dying. Draco really could have cared less, but his head was still pounding from the journey.

He simply remained in the corner of the room, his face set into a frown, but his body much too weak to issue anything other than that. He had completely lost the rest of what had happened in his short stupor, but soon the kid was leading him and the trio out the door and up the staircases. He kept well away from any of them, and he still despised spending three whole days with no one to talk to but them, but he didn't say much.

For some strange reason, he found that only a small fraction of him cared; his mind kept reeling back to a sure punishment from the Dark Lord when he found out what Draco had done.

****

Harry pulled the heavy gold fastenings of his cloak around his shoulders and linked them together over his chest. He did this with trembling fingers, the cold and his nerves making him uneasy. Taking in a deep breath, Harry turned around and faced the floor length mirror hanging on the wall. Harry could never remember ever seeing a changing room as luxurious as this, but he pushed aside his admiration and gazed at his reflection.

His green eyes took in the crisp white trousers, the satin collared shirt, and the white cape hanging around him. He looked like a prince from a story book, if nothing else, and Harry found it a little strange. He had never really cared about what he wore, never cared if he was in fashion with everyone else. It wasn't hard not to care with friends like Ron and Hermione who thought along his terms as well.

Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them on his cape, running a worried hand through his hair. He thought he looked ridiculous, like a spruced up poodle, but he did not dare to change out of it, for Leo had been deliberate on his clothing.

Leo had explained to all four of them, on their way to their rooms, that he and his sister always got fixed up for dinner, and that they should too. Leo also explained that it really was his idea, and that he convinced Crystal to follow the code as well.

"It's just the way things run here," he had said, opening the door to Malfoy's chamber. But Harry had other things on his mind rather than his wardrobe.

Though Harry, Ron and Hermione had wanted to bombard Crystal with indignant questions and polite accusations, Dumbledore had raised a hand and called a stop to them. Ron had blurted out an outraged reply and demanded to be told why they couldn't know the truth behind her 'attacks'. Dumbledore said that it was quite in their agreement for him to know the answers, but now wasn't the time.

"Emotions are high, you're head is not in a forgiving state, and you are all very tired and drained," the Headmaster had said. Upon those words Harry had begun to feel the weight of his body increase.

He had looked to Crystal and saw that her eyes had gone dark, which was saying something as they were already deeper than usual to begin with. But she was looking at him without looking at him. Her eyes had literally clouded over shadow, as if a black sheet had been pulled over them. Then the blackness dissolved and the tint of midnight blue returned. Harry looked at her, puzzled, and she had looked away to the floor.

"I suggest we all take a long rest, freshen up, and discuss these matters over dinner. Would you agree?" Dumbledore asked, looking hard at Ron. Harry could here Ron's retort even before he had parted his lips, so he raised a hand behind himself to silence his stillborn protest.

"Agreed," he had answered, looking directly at Dumbledore and no where else. After that, Leo had volunteered to show them to their chambers. They went up, Dumbledore side, and Crystal down. Dinner would be at seven and everyone was to dress for the occasion.

Harry replaced his glasses and looked up and suddenly felt a chill as Crystal's familiar face entered his mind. He could see her face, the face of a girl who had tormented him and his friends since before the school year; the crazed gaze that had penetrated their lives so many times that year...staring at him from down the corridor, looking at him from in his room, whispering to him during lesson...and causing him pain that he could still feel in the pit of his stomach.

****

Ron couldn't say anything, because his jaw was cemented shut and he couldn't move. Behind her surprised face, Ron could see those glowing eyes, feel the pain of death, and remember the darkness of his dreams. His expression was mirrored off this girl...this...normal, sane girl? No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be the same one who had terrified him to hysteria. It couldn't be...

****

Hermione was not surprised, wasn't shocked and wasn't scared. She was relieved. She suspected that everyone in the room mistook her sigh for a gasp, and her step back for a jump. This was the face that had ripped through her heart and caused her to cower in fear of her male classmates, but it was also the face that had guided her through it all and had been trying to figure out a way to break her spell. Yet questions still raced through her head, and Hermione was one who did not like not knowing their answers.

****

"Come on Ron, dinner starts at seven and we can't be late," Hermione said, hurrying down the curved hallway, the skirt of her new dress bunched in her hands. The soft, silk slippers on her feet prevented any sound of her footsteps to be heard. She paused near a window and looked back to where Ron was casually walking along. The sunset outside cast the tower into shadows and illuminated his fiery-red hair.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. I still don't know how you can run in that thing when I can barely move in this," Ron said, indicating his own clothing. He looked to be wearing a suit with a shirt collar on the button down jacket and gold buttons all along it and his shirt.

"You look like your wearing an Armani," Hermione stated, smoothing her skirt around her.

"A what?"

"Never you mind it, Ron, we still have to find Harry."

Ron looked past her and down the corridor. "You're sure he's down this way? Are you cold?" he asked, noticing her shiver a bit.

"Just a little," she replied. "It's this gown. I've never worn anything off the shoulder like this, even though it is gorgeous." Hermione rubbed her bare shoulder, thankful that the sleeves were nice and long. The wrists of the sleeves and the front of the dress ended in a V shape, and the skirt seemed to fold into itself endlessly, making it fan out in a blossom when she spun.

"Alright then," he said, walking past her. "I think you're right, this is where we came from and we dropped Harry off before either of us."

Hermione stopped him. "Do you think we need to get Malfoy?"

"Who gives a care to Malfoy? If he wasn't paying attention to where we were going, then good job to him."

"I guess you're right," she replied. She gathered her dress up in her hands again. "Let's grab Harry then and get downstairs."

****

"I didn't need an escort. I know where to go," Draco said to Leo as the two descended their third staircase.

"Well I'm so very sorry," Leo replied, exaggerating each word. "But Dumbledore said to go get you. He said you looked a little out of it and he wasn't sure if you knew where to go."

"Well I did, and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," Draco shot back.

Leo looked up to him. "If you asked my opinion then I would agree with Dumbledore. You looked sort of weird, like you weren't paying attention. How did you know where to go?"

"Well," Draco began, sighing heavily at the thought of speech. He had grown weaker rather then stronger over the small period before dinner. "I didn't ask for your opinion. But if you must know then I suppose there really isn't any harm in telling you. Since I was a boy I was trained to know things, observe the people around me, the things around, and the environments around. I had to pick up every single detail, know what people felt like to decipher them, know where one staircase was and where each window was located. My father said it would help me in Quidditch and other times in my life."

Leo stared at him, then suddenly looked away and then exclaimed, "Oh! So that explains everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes." Leo looked back up to him. "When Ron was in the hospital wing in your first year and you found out about the dragon from the letter in his book. He thought you were there to laugh at him, but you were there for the letter. You'd already known about it."

"Yeah," Draco answered off-handedly. "I could tell by the way the three of them had been acting that there was something wrong. I watched them, and Weasley suddenly had this weird hand bite and so many other signals."

"And it's also how you knew that someone was listening to you and Dumbledore talk, right? You knew my sister was nearby."

"Yeah, I guess-wait, how do you know about that?" Draco asked a bit puzzled. Leo gave him a look that Granger had used so many times as her signature look: the Wow-you're-so-dumb-that-you-don't-know-the-answer look.

"Dumbledore told you my sister and I are really powerful, right?"

"Yes."

"And he told you how I can see the past, right?"

"Yeah, he mentioned that," Draco replied.

"Well, that was in the past, and so of course I know," Leo said. "I know everything about the past." They continued down their corridor, the setting sun outside casting autumn colors all around them. Leo glanced up at Draco, his young face filled with uncertain knowledge and incomprehensible wisdom.

Draco pretended he could not feel his penetrating gaze, making sure his focus stayed glued on the slowly falling star outside. His hands found themselves into the pockets of his robe and his usually stiff pale hair began to fall limply around his face. Minutes passed.

Then suddenly, Draco knew, without seeing, that Leo had stopped walking with him a few seconds ago. The emptiness of no one beside him made him oddly uncomfortable, but he made no move to wait for the boy; he kept on walking.

"Draco," Leo called, his voice sounding younger than he usually had it. Draco slowed his steps, but did not halt fully.

"Yes," he answered back, his drawl tired and worn.

"Do you-," Leo began, a slight quiver in his words. "Do...do you want to know what happened?" he finally said. Draco froze immediately.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, not turning back, his cold fingers growing tense in his pockets. Leo stalled a bit.

"I- I know everything in the past, so of course I would know what happened that one time. If you'd like to know...I would be more than happy to tell-..."

"What are you talking about?" Draco repeated, his tone no harsher than Leo's.

"That night," the boy answered. "Do you recall it? It's that night that you can never remember. I know what happened...well, I guess I know it. I'd have to summon it up from the back of my mind but..." he trailed off.

Draco turned around slowly. His eyes fell upon the small figure of the boy a little way away from him, his tiny silhouette in the twilight colors making him look ghostly. "You know," he replied. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Leo replied. "I know it all."

"And you could tell me?" Draco asked, unable to cease the increasing pounding of his heart. Leo chanced a step back.

"Not exactly yet...but I'm sure I could, if I asked permission first."

"Permission?"

"Yes," he said, twiddling with tunic hem. Draco began walking back to him and for the first time noticed that, even though this tiny boy was the one who requested the formal dinner, he had not changed out of his earlier wardrobe. "I need permission," he told him, his face just as serious as Draco's. "I'm not so sure I can tell you straight out without-,"

"Who do you need permission from?" Draco interrupted. "Do you have to talk to Dumbledore or something?"

"Oh no," Leo told him. "I need to ask the one who has granted me my power, the Higher Being. If he finds it fit into his plans, then yes, I can tell you. I'll ask him now."

"Who's the -," Draco started, but Leo cut him off.

"Please Mr. Malfoy," he said, resembling Dumbledore when he needed to do something of great importance. "I need to concentrate all my magic into this if I want to ask permission. If I do not, then I will be much too exhausted to go to dinner. Now hush, before I lose my concentration."

But Draco did not hush. He looked to this strange little boy in awe, his features making sure not to give himself away. Then, for the first time since he had arrived in this place, he let fall his cruel and hateful shield and suddenly became the Draco that no one could have suspected, one who embodied everything the common one did not.

With heartfelt words of empty vastness, Draco asked, "Why go through so much trouble for me?"

No remorse could be found, no sense of pity or admiration heard, not even an inkling of appreciation...only the dull, bland echo of a question.

Leo suddenly looked him straight in the eyes, his brow furrowed. "Why not? I have seen you before Draco, and you are not who you put on. You play with the attitude of being the high-ranking bully, but you are much deeper than that. And for that I look up to you." Draco was slightly shocked, never having heard anything like that before.

But Leo took his silence as his cue, and then raised his eyes to the ceiling. "This will take some time," he said, never changing his gaze. "It will be much longer than time is needed to get downstairs. Do you mind to wait?" he flicked his stare to Draco before returning it to the ceiling once more.

"No," Draco replied, hesitating not an ounce. "I can wait."

****

"Ron?" Hermione called, looking down the corridor hopefully. The sun was sinking fast and the light she needed to see properly was fading away. Somehow, after the two friends had retrieved a very royal looking Harry, the two boys had decided to go exploring without telling her. In her confusion, Hermione had lost all knowledge of where she was and was now probably more lost than the boys.

"Harry?" she called, turning around the bend. "Where are you two?"

"Hermione?" a voice answered back, but it was neither Harry's nor Ron's. It wasn't even Draco's. Hermione spun around just in time to see the last rays of the sun fall onto the haunted, gaunt face of Crystal.

****

Draco did nothing, just stood very still, watching the boy as he stared fixedly at the ceiling above, but there was more behind his eyes than simple gazing. From the trained eyes of Malfoy, he could see an entire conversation revolve behind his simple blue eyes, which were not as dark as his sister's yet not as pale as Weasley's. He saw curiosity, wonderment, intrigue and realization.

Though he wanted very much to open his mouth and ask what he was doing, Draco kept quiet, and the anticipation of what was to come pounding in his blood and into his ears.

Then Leo's face turned suddenly to horror, and he looked down abruptly to Draco, not just fear behind his eyes but severe pity.

"I-I don't think you want to know," he blurted out, his eyes wide.

"What?! No! Leo, what are you talking about?" Draco demanded, his rage weak. Leo shook his head.

"I...just don't think you're ready to see it, that's all." He stepped forward to continue on their journey to dinner, but Draco moved into his way.

"Did you not get permission or something?" he pressed, thriving for answers. Leo dropped his head to the ground.

"No, I did. He allowed me to choose whether to tell you or not myself. He said that either way, your fate is sealed; and Crystal will be foretelling it sooner or later." He looked up, and somehow he reminded Draco of himself, when he was very young. "But I think it best to not tell you." He ducked past Draco and began to hurry down the corridor, but Draco was just as determined as he.

"Not even, kid! You already offered me the chance to know and I accepted, now tell me!" He threw out his hand to catch Leo by the arm, and as he did Leo shouted, "Draco, no!" But it was too late.

The moment his fingers clasped themselves around the boy's thin arm, Draco felt as though the last drops of strength he had left slipped away. He was falling back into something, like a memory. Darkness claimed his vision, and he was not sure if it was from the arriving night or the touch of the boy.

Thousands of other scenes flashed past him, different people of all kinds, one he had never even imagined before. Then, as the shadows around him grew darker still, the people in the scenes began to look vaguely familiar. First it was people he had seen once before, like those you pass in the street. Then they became his classmates of superior distance: there was Finnigan and Bulstrode...there was that Ravenclaw Chang girl and the Patil twins.

Then came his professors, followed by his close family friends. Then he felt his body tense up as memories, (for that was what Draco had recognized them as), of Potter, Weasley and Granger whizzed past. Next came his parents, his father and mother, and then....pure nothing.

****

"Crystal," Hermione whispered, her fear ebbing away to relief. "You startled me."

"I did not mean to," she replied, smiling friendly. Hermione cringed a little. Her smile was eerie, and had no notion of a friendly air around it at all. Crystal began walking towards her, the sun rays disappearing coincidentally into the night as she passed them. "Why were you calling out Harry Potter's name?" she asked. Hermione shrugged and looked out the window.

"I've lost them somewhere, both him and Ron," she replied. "Have you seen them?"

Crystal was level with her now. Hermione noticed that she was only a little taller than herself, and that they greatly resembled each other in small, but distinct ways; their brown hair, their light skin, the darkness of their eyes. It was a bit mind-boggling.

"No," she answered regretfully. "I am afraid I haven't had as much luck as you."

A very uncomfortable pause followed this statement; and somehow, Hermione did not feel the fear she had expected in being this close to Crystal. She felt...relaxed. It was as if, for the first time in her life, she was just hanging out with a girl her own age. Despite that fact the Crystal was probably years and years older than her, for she was. And even though her features betrayed her as an elder, Hermione felt she knew Crystal as a long time friend.

"I'm so very sorry," Crystal suddenly said. Hermione turned her head quickly to her and noticed that she was not looking at her, but out the window as well.

"Sorry for what?" Hermione asked. Crystal sighed.

"For everything. For the Love spell, for the visions, for the pain, for the threats, for the interventions...for everything. I'm sorry for everything."

Hermione did not reply.

****

Draco was standing in his living room at Malfoy Manor. He was wearing the clothes that he had worn the night he got the Mark. He was standing in the same exact place when he saw the cloaked figure glide into the room and...

Draco's blood turned to ice. How was it possible? How was it possible at all? This couldn't be the same night, could it? The same night when he had received the mark; when he had found himself stiff with ever growing pain and torment, when he had briefly lost knowledge of all sense in the world. How was it possible?

Suddenly a surge of power washed over him, and he felt as though the inner hold he had on his body was being lifted away. Thoughts he hadn't had since that night came back, feelings, emotions and actions. Then words began to fill his mouth, the same words he had spoken that night.

"Pansy where are you? What's keeping you so long?" Draco's eyes went wide. He wanted to run, wanted to get away from there as fast as possible, but it was as though his body and mind had disconnected, and he was simply watching through the eyes of his own memory.

****

Hermione walked slowly beside Crystal, twiddling her hands in front of her and not looking at the girl to her right. Crystal was somewhat the exact opposite. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was looking up into the ceiling.

"I really don't know why I do it," she randomly began. "I just started to one day."

"What?" Hermione asked, not sure on what she was talking about.

"When I started contacting people in your world," she answered in the same lazed voice.

"Oh."

"Yes," Crystal continued. "For sometime now I haven't been myself. I'd lose my mind in my power. It's great power you know," she pointed, getting a crazed sort of look in her eyes. Hermione pretended she saw nothing. "No one should have power like this."

"What did it do to you?" Hermione questioned. She didn't feel uncomfortable about the question, because it was quite clear that Crystal was extremely open with it.

"It does horrid things; when I use my magic, it just kind of takes over me. I was able to fight it before, when it was weak, but not now. Now it's too hard."

"So why do you come to people like Harry and Ron and me?" Hermione asked.

"Because I can," Crystal replied. Hermione looked confused.

"Pardon?"

Crystal sighed heavily. "I said because I can. That's why I come to people like you, because I can."

She glanced sideways at her and noticed her puzzlement increase instead of decrease. "I don't know what else to say to you but the truth. When I was younger I never realized I had the power to intervene into the lives of others elsewhere, but when I discovered the talent I became obsessed. I had spent so many years in isolation, with no one to talk to other than my brother, and he was only a baby.

"Then one night, when I was sleeping, I guess my longing for human contact grew to such a rate that I actually left my body and traveled the thousands of worlds over to yours. I discovered that I could venture into your world in my astral projection form and still obtain my powers. That was enough to get me hooked. I began to neglect the things around me, my own well-fare, the home I lived in...my very own brother...

"That was when my magic began to grow at an alarming rate. It started shredding at my mind, making me oblivious to the things around me that were real. As I left this world behind more frequently I became ignorant to the reality back here. Leo had just begun fending for himself and he had taken it upon himself to care for me as well. The thought of my neglect for him still haunts me to this very moment."

Hermione had nothing to say to this remark. She continued to focus on her feet, keeping one in front of the other. Crystal cast her one glance, and then proceeded with their one-sided conversation.

"You're wondering why I came to you three and caused you so much pain, am I right?" she asked. Hermione was snapped out of her trance.

"What? N-no! No, not at all," she answered quickly. "Of course not."

"Don't lie," Crystal told her, her voice calm. "I'm an Oracle, I know everything." She grinned at her, and it was less menacing than her smile. It was genuine.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I did want to know. Alright then, yes...yes, I do."

****

Draco watched, frozen with astonishment, as he felt himself slowly sink back into an armchair by the fire. His breath caught in his chest as the remembered every single thing around. He remembered how the fire began to flicker like that, how the cool, summer breeze began to beat harder against the windows, and how the muffled sounds of Pansy pleading with someone did not strike him as suspicious then.

"Draco," he heard someone say. He looked around the edge of his chair and saw Pansy walking toward him. She was smiling flirtatiously at him like usual, but she seemed a little...nervous. "Draco, maybe we should go outside and talk. I wouldn't want to stay in here." She was next to him now.

Draco somehow already knew his answer to this statement. "Go outside? Pansy, it may be evening but it's sweltering hot outside. No, I'd rather much like to stay in here." He leaned back. Then Draco became aware of the sudden feeling of cold flooding the room. Pansy said nothing about it, but he knew from the way she tensed beside him that she felt it. Her only reaction to it however was that she looked back to the doorway of the room, and then backed away from Draco.

"You should have listened to me," she whispered, before settling herself into a corner. Draco stared at her.

"What are you talking about?" he heard himself snap at her, but Pansy said nothing more. Her eyes were now glued onto the shadow gliding into the room behind Draco. Following her gaze, Draco looked up, and found that a hooded, menacing figure stood above him. "Who are you?" he demanded, though in his mind he struggled with himself not to say anything. Speaking was the wrong thing to do.

The thing standing above him did not respond, but raised a hand towards Draco. The pale white hand held a dark, polished wand, and the wand tip was pointed at Draco's heart.

"What do you thing you're doing?" Draco cried, starting to stand up, but he didn't have time.

"Imobulios," the figure said. Draco felt his entire body seize up. His arms froze and his legs stiffened under him. He fell back to his chair, his gray eyes not scared, but angry. In the background, he could hear Pansy's pleading voice.

"Draco! Mrs. Malfoy, please! As I said before, I would willingly do this! What good is a host subject to the spell if it is not willing?"

"Pansy, hush now." It was Narcissa's voice. "Let Him do what he wants." Draco noted that her voice was kept low, as though she were too afraid to speak out loud. He wanted to call to his mother, scream to her and ask what was going on. His mind reeling from everything he would see and hear, but his body would not give away to the spell.

"But Mrs. Malfoy I-,"

"Pansy," Mrs. Parkinson started. "I think you should go into the kitchen."

"But Mom I-,"

"Now honey." She sounded stern. Draco flicked his eyes to the side and saw her sigh heavily, glance at him, and then shiver slightly as she stared at the hooded being and then leave the room quickly. Draco mimicked her actions and turned his vision to his other side, where the shadow had moved out from behind his chair and into the light of the fire.

The unknown visitor faced away from him and towards the blazing flames. It tucked its wand into the depths of its robes, and then lifted its hands to pull back the midnight black of his hood. At the same moment he turned his head back to face Draco, and if he still had the use of his mouth, he would have surely cried out in surprise and sure-fire fear.

The nose like slits, the skin abnormally pale and the eyes that glowed with malice stared at him. It was Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord glared at him for just a moment, and then averted his cold stare to look past Draco's chair.

"You are sure it has to be him?" Lucius' voice asked. Draco wanted to turn his head to look at his father, but he didn't have to. Lucius came walking around the side of the table to stand only a fraction closer to Voldemort.

"I have told you before," the Dark Lord replied. "He has it in him to hold it. I am surprised you did not recognize it when he was younger. That disappoints me."

"I am sorry, my lord," Lucius replied, staring down at his son. "I did notice a certain something in him that caught my eye for a moment. He had the air of it around him, but I never thought to look further into it."

"There is your problem then," Voldemort replied, walking slowly around to the armchair. "You did not think." He looked up and beckoned forward more Death Eaters, each one cloaked and hooded; no, wait, not everyone. There was his mother and the Parkinson's, neither of them hooded. He saw that his mother looked worriedly at the Dark Lord, but then pulled her cloak over her head to cover her face. She then joined the line of Death Eaters that had created a semi-circle around Draco.

Suddenly a sharp pain shot up Draco's left arm and he shot his eyes to his arm. The Dark Lord was standing there, his wand out again and its tip once again pointed to him. Draco's mind cried out in pain as he realized that his arm was moving up, up towards the Dark Lord. Because he was under the a Freezing charm, and the Dark Lord was commanding his frozen muscles to move as well, the pain of two opposite spells cut through him inwardly.

"Look at him Malfoy," Voldemort hissed. "Look at your son. Do you see it now? Look into his eyes and you will see it. There, do you see it now, my faithful Death Eater? That is why he is perfect for the job; and that is why I am fortunate enough to have recruited him before he turned into it fully. Imagine the dire consequences to that mistake. Why, he could have created a legend all his own if he did."

He paced across the circle, the fire growing slowly dimmer in his wake. Draco followed him with his eyes, his detached mind horrified by all this new information. "He will be the core of the plan, as I have discussed with all of you. He will be the key to my immortality and eternal reign of power."

"My lord," one of the Death Eaters began. "Not to object to your judgment, but is this similar to that of Harry Potter?"

Draco felt his heart catch in his throat. Voldemort only continued to pace.

"Avery, have you neglected to listen to me? You cannot compare this boy to Harry Potter, though in importance they are surely equal. Do you not remember my reasons for wanting to kill the boy?"

If Draco could move, his eyes would have widened. Would he be lucky enough to discover two answers tonight? Why the Dark Lord chose him and why he wanted to murder Harry?

"My lord," Avery responded. "Forgive me but, you never speak of your reasons for wanting the boy dead."

"Well then," Voldemort answered, "there is your answer." He walked back to the armchair and placed the tip of his index finger onto Draco's exposed arm. A freezing chill ran up it. "But for now, let us begin with the Engraving." He focused his eyes to pierce directly into his face and opened his mouth to begin. Draco braced himself for the coming pain, the flashing light, the murmur of voices...

And then it was gone. He could feel his body coming back into his control, and with the use of his limbs the scene he had been in dissolved into the whirling darkness. The feeling of being thrown back devoured him, and then the blackness dissolved into the tower.

He was kneeling on the ground, his hand still clasped about Leo's arm and the setting sun gone now, only to be replaced by the blazing moon. Leo was looking pale white at him, his blue eyes wide and his breathing shallow.

"L-Leo..." Draco began, and then noticed that his own breath was less than deep. "Leo, wh-what the hell was..."

"I told you no," Leo suddenly snapped, his voice deep and angry; then he yanked his arm out of Draco's grasp and ran off down the corridor and through the door at the far end.

****

"I came to Harry first," Crystal began, slowing her trot to a mere walk. "He had not been my top choice for a victim, but he had made me come to him."

"Made you?" Hermione asked, confused. "How could he? He hadn't even known about you?"

"Oh, not on purpose, of course; but he was a factor in it. I had been in my dungeon, wasting away like I had always done, when I suddenly received a jolt of power echoing from your world. I had a sudden spur-of-the-moment vision, and I had seen him in it. The details of that vision are clouded to me now, since that was when I had been...disposed. All I know is that I had seen something with him and the Dark Lord in it, and it was terrible. But I had liked terrible things back then...I was a horrid monster."

Hermione glanced to her side and saw that, although Crystal did not hesitate in telling her everything, she did look terribly shamed by it, and not at all proud of her actions.

"It wasn't your fault," she said, trying to comfort the other girl. "You and Dumbledore have both explained how great your magic is; it was only you reacting to it."

"Yes, but I could have fought it," Crystal answered. "I had been able to before. But when I got the first taste of my powers, I was addicted; then I saw Harry. The famous boy, Harry Potter, who had defeated a being worthy enough to challenge even me. A boy with a past so tragic and a future so clouded that every turn in his life was a danger unto himself. I had been watching him ever since he was a boy, making sure each path I threw at him was successfully crossed. He never disappointed me."

Hermione smiled at this, for it was true. Harry never did disappoint anyone, not really. He had always been faced with obstacles that should have thrown him to his knees, or worse, kill him. But every time he had to struggle to hold on to his life. She knew that he had always been too modest for his own good, and said that he was just always lucky; but everyone knew there was just something about Harry that made him so special.

"But then something in him changed. He was in constant fear since the beginning of fourth year, and the fear kept mounting higher and higher as the year progressed. Never before had I realized such fright in him, and it was unnerving. I tried to seek out his future on my own time, struggling to single it out among the various ages of lives I am responsible for. But the Higher Being must had denied this, for I never saw what was to come until it was too late. Harry Potter was special boy.

"Now, remember, I was insane then, so it was even harder for me to think anywhere but straight. I took joy in seeing him duel Voldemort, yet somewhere inside of me I knew that it was wrong of me. Then, as I had been shackled to the wall by my own self and preparing to intervene in someone else's life, something radiating from Harry hit me, and I saw the vision, as I have told you. Later on, I got a calling from Dumbledore, which was strange, for he never called me for anything, only Leo.

"He came to us for a favor, asking us to break all code of law in the universe to find out the destiny of one, Harry Potter. Of course Leo, who had been my caretaker then, refused forcibly at first, for we had already asked permission from the Higher Being, out of tremendous gratefulness, to let us help Dumbledore in his battle against the Dark Lord. This would certainly push the envelope too far.

"But the Higher Being said he would allow it, just this once, and he gave his blessing. Well, since I was to gaze in all three of your futures by will of another, I wanted to see how trust-worthy you three were. That was my first reason for intervening with you three."

"But what were the other reasons? Why use an Unforgivable Curse on Harry? And then threaten Ron with his life and the life of his sister? And why did you show me-...show me your death? What were the reasons for that?!" Hermione persisted, unable to keep her accusing tone neutral. Crystal looked to the ground.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I can't tell you the answers to those questions, not now at least," she replied.

"And why not?" Hermione continued. Crystal looked up now, at the door that was now in front of them. It would be their last one before they reached the floor that would take them to the dining room level.

"Because I don't know why," she replied. "Wait, just listen to me first. I don't know why I did those things because I was in a completely different state then. Since I'm neutral now, I have only the smallest clue onto why I did those things, not a detailed one. I'm sorry," she added, seeing the crestfallen face of Hermione.

"So you can't give us anything? Not even a clue?"

"No..." Crystal hesitated. "But if you really want to know, there is one thing I can do to help you."

Hermione's mood rose exceptionally. "You can? How?!"

"If I return to the state I was in when I knew," Crystal replied, "then I'll be able to tell you everything."

"But there's something more, isn't there?" Hermione prodded, aware of the sorrow in Crystal's voice. "There's something bad about going back to your original state."

"It's because I'm dangerous when I use my powers at their full potency. I become a new, more merciless person then. Which, might I add, was why the Higher Being and Leo were resistant towards Dumbledore when he asked us if I could see his future in the beginning."

Hermione shook her head. "Then we can't make you do that; it wouldn't be fair to you or Leo. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sounded so eager."

"Nonsense," the other girl said. "You have every right to know, because I'm the one who gave you the questions in the first place. So I am completely sure when I say that I will use my sight to help you, all of you." She raised a hand to interrupt Hermione's unspoken protest. "But this time, I'll do something different. I'll fight it."

She smiled at her again, but this time it didn't look as menacing as before. Hermione gladly returned the smile, and then the two girls entered the dining room in high spirits, not knowing that they had already begun a partnership that would last forever and an eternity.

****

Draco dragged himself down the hallways, making glum turns on the stairways and corners, trying to get to the dining area as slowly as he could. He couldn't stay inside for very long, he had to get into the fresh air, into the night; for that was where he belonged. But although his body was working in a slow yet motioned pace, his mind was stuck in time, replaying every last scene and every last word that Draco had experienced when he grabbed Leo's arm.

Leo. Draco couldn't help but feel some foreign emotion of regret as he thought of him. The anger in his eyes when he yanked his arm away was unbearable, even to Draco. To know that an innocent little boy could hate you so much was heart wrenching, but he couldn't think about it now. No, he had seen what was at first forbidden to him, and he had to figure out what the deal was through the clues he had been given.

"But first I need to get out of here," Draco said to himself, trudging down the hallway towards the double doors of the dining room, his thick robe tail trailing behind him. He silently reached for the handle of the door and pulled it open almost lazily, so that it only had enough force to barely touch the stone wall. He paid no attention to it.

Before him sat everybody, each one dressed in formal ware just as he, and each one gladly enjoying their evening meal. It seemed that he had been longer than he thought. At the head of the table sat Dumbledore, his once bright colored robes now a glistening white. On either side of him sat Potter and Weasley, both looking very different, very well-dressed, yet very stupid.

Potter looked more or less like a prince, which probably suited him well since he was practically hailed as one by anyone who saw his stupid scar and heard his name. Weasley looked like the male models that the Muggles always watched, which made Draco sick at the thought that a pure-blood like him could ever sink so low.

But in light of these normal reactions, Draco felt the smallest twang of guilt at being so hasty in judgment and attacking Potter and Weasley mentally without even giving them a chance; but is was a very, very, very small twang.

Next to Potter sat Leo, his hands placed firmly on either side of his plate and his head bowed low over his food, as if he hadn't noticed Draco coming in; even though Draco was sure he was simply just avoiding his eyes. Across from Leo sat Crystal, her white gown making her wondering eyes look dreadfully familiar. He wished he wouldn't remember who those eyes reminded him of, but then the cold sting of the Dark Lord's face sprang up in his mind and he shivered slightly.

And beside Crystal was Hermione, looking very different in her new wardrobe...making Draco stall just a little bit so he could get a good look at her. But then his attention was once again caught in the right place and he was back on track. But upon seeing Hermione, he found that he wanted something else from her. He so wanted to run to her right now, grab her by the arm and drag her outside and plead with her to help him; how many times had she aided Potter and he was always safe or in the clear?

But he knew that if he so much as started towards her, Harry and Weasley would pounce on him in no time. But even after Hermione explained that he needed her help, they would want to come too, which would not fit with Draco's comfort.

It wasn't as though he didn't want them to come, greatness knew that the extra help and company would have suited him well, even if it was his archenemies; but no, he had other reasons. If he were to break out in a whole story about Voldemort, what do you think would happen to Potter? Simply thinking of the Dark Lord sent chills through Draco's arm, triggering the Dark Mark the smallest bit. What if Voldemort suddenly contacted him while he was in Harry's presence?

Potter would go into his fit mode over his scar and Draco would be useless as help to him. Not because the fact that he cared for Harry's welfare, he shuddered at the thought and mentally corrected himself by saying that if Potter did go into frenzy, he didn't want to be the one to haul him back into the tower. No, Draco would deal with this on his own, and then maybe later he would go to Granger for help; maybe.

"Headmaster," Draco began in a voice that was deep and strained. "Professor Dumbledore, would it be alright with you if I skipped dinner and went outside for a while? I really need the fresh air."

Dumbledore gave him a quizzical look. "Now why would you want to miss supper, Draco? I would have suspected that you required nourishment."

"Things change," Draco mumbled in response. "I just wanted your permission on whether or not I could go outside for a bit."

"Well, in that case, it isn't my decision," he answered back. "It is up to Leo and Crystal, seeing as this is their home. What do you two say? Is he permitted to go outside?" Draco noticed that Dumbledore looked stern about this subject, as though there was something wrong about leaving the tower.

"No," Leo said, suddenly sounding worried and horrified. "He can't."

"Why not?" Draco asked, a little forcefully. The urge for fresh air was almost unbearable.

"Because..." Leo faltered the tiniest bit. He looked at his sister, who, in turn, held his gaze firmly.

"And you Crystal?" the Headmaster gazed at her, but Crystal was looking out the window now, behind Draco at the forest surrounding the tower. Her eyes were a little glazed and she seemed to be engrossed in an inner debate about her decision.

"Only if he can brave it alone," Crystal finally replied. Potter, Weasley and Granger all glanced at her at this point, but Draco took only the notion that she was just trying to be creepy and tough again.

"Crystal," Leo snapped quietly. "Are you mad? He can't go out there. No one can go out there, not even us," he hissed. Crystal looked out the window again, her face obviously rethinking her decision.

"I'll survive," Draco told her, then without another word, turned on his heel and sprinted to the door on the floor below, slipped into the cool night air and disappeared into the forest.

****

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked, staring at the space where Malfoy had been standing moments before.

"Haven't the slightest," Ron answered slowly, shaking his head. "Honestly, Malfoy's gone off his rocker even further this year."

"No, that's not what I meant, Ron." Hermione turned to him and shook her head. "I was talking to Crystal."

"About what?" Crystal interrogated, looking to Hermione. "What did I do?"

"I think Miss Granger wants to know your reasons for the comment you gave Draco a few moments ago," Dumbledore told her, taking a deep swig from his goblet. Hermione couldn't help but see the smile curling at his lips and thereafter, from that moment on, concluded that Dumbledore did, in fact, know everything.

"My comment?"

"Yes," Hermione continued, shifting in her seat to face her. "You told him he could only go out if he could brave the forest alone. Is it dangerous out there? Because I've been staring out the windows all day, and I've never even gotten the notion that this place could be dangerous."

"Then I have performed my spell successfully," Crystal answered calmly, shrugging.

"Beg pardon?" Harry asked, setting down his fork. "What spell?" Crystal leaned back in her chair and looked at him.

"It is one of the many talents I have acquired from expanding the Imperious Spell," she explained. Harry shuddered a bit at the announcement of an Unforgivable Curse. "It's a spell I placed on all of Enol. See, this place is a world of banishment; a world where all evicted souls are sent." She shot a quizzical glance at Leo, but went on. "But see, you can't exactly count someone as being banished if you send them to a place of paradise, right?

"Well, in truth, Enol is a horrid regime, a burnt, barren land full of misery. Shadows, not night, consume this world without rest. Imagine life in a world like that, a life in which you live in fear of the land around you. It's a terrible fantasy, one that I could not stand living in.

"So, when I was little, I empowered the Imperious Spell with enough potency in order for me to change everything. I commanded the world to adopt a mask, an illusion if you will, to hide the grotesque look of the place. It was to be an illusion so real, that one could touch everything in it and find that it was there. It's a powerful spell that requires much magic, seeing as I have cloaked this entire world."

"So, all that," Harry started, waving towards the window and to the forest and the sky. "All of that is an illusion? A cloaking spell at work?"

"Yes."

"Right down to the cycle of day and night," Leo injected, twiddling his fingers together.

"But how does that make sense?" Hermione asked. "Why would it be dangerous for Malfoy to be out there?"

Leo answered before his sister could even open her mouth. "Because," he began, "something happens when you're outside for too long. The spell begins to wear down through your eyes, and you start to receive glimpses of Enol, on how it is supposed to look like. A sight like that could drive a human to madness."

"And of course," Dumbledore said, setting down his goblet. "Draco knows nothing of this."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at one another.

"Should we worry?" Hermione asked.

"No," Crystal replied, staring out the door. "He is of a family that can take care of themselves. We do not need to worry...yet."

****

Draco walked amongst the trees, not knowing where he was or where he was going. He only knew that this forest he was in, this forest that was unnaturally perfect, made him feel...wrong. He just simply felt wrong. But the fresh air that swept over his face and the dark sky that was tinted violet raised his spirits a considerable amount; and he slowed his walk in order to take in the feeling of immense freedom around him.

This rare moment of solitude allowed him the chance to reflect on the sinking feeling in his stomach and the strange stirring of self-loathing in his heart. Draco lowered his eyes to the ground, scowling at the smooth surface of the grassy forest floor. A year ago, Draco Malfoy would rarely be found acting so pitiful and pathetic. He would usually brush past these lowering points in his life with a returning remark of insult, but how could one insult the past?

"By screwing up the future," Draco muttered to himself, weaving through the trees and falling deeper into his worries.

****

Crystal glanced up at the blue globe that was embedded into the wall near the door. Green smoke was swirling inside, changing briefly to orange, and then back to green again. "Three hours," she said.

"Huh?" answered Ron, looking up from his plate.

"It's been three hours," Crystal repeated.

"Three hours since what exactly?" Ron commented. Crystal stared at him.

"Since that Malfoy boy ran out. I'm worried about him."

Ron coughed on the pumpkin juice he had started to drink. "Worried, about Malfoy? That's rich! One thing you ought to know about Malfoy, no one does or needs to worry about him. Trust me; things are better off when he's gone."

Leo turned his head to Ron. "So I have this strange feeling that you really don't like him."

"No."

"And you could care less if he went insane out there right now?" Leo didn't sound like he was accusing Ron or anything, just as though he really wanted to know the truth.

Ron looked off into space for a moment, making it look as though he were deep in thought. When he came back, he looked Leo right in the eye and said, "You know, I searched and searched, and then I searched again, and I found that I really couldn't care less. Sorry, mate." He shrugged humorously at the kid. Leo only smiled in return and laughed a little.

"You're funny Ronald Weasley," he commented.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," Ron replied.

"Which is beside the point," Hermione interrupted. "I don't care how bad Malfoy is, can you imagine knowing someone could be going mad out there right now? It's not exactly something to help my conscience at the moment."

"So, would you like to look for him?" Harry asked her, looking questionable. Hermione looked across the table at him.

"I don't know...are you offering?" she asked back. Harry shrugged.

"Bit of a blind spot right there for me," Harry answered. Ron injected his own opinion on the subject.

"I vote we stay here and leave Malfoy. End of story." He stared at them proudly, only to be bombarded by hard stares from everyone. He stared back for a minute, then sighed reluctantly and dramatically and got up from his seat. "I mean, let's go then," he grumbled. Dumbledore simply smiled.

****


Author notes: Okay, okay, so this chapter is just really, really boring! I'm sorry, but it is an important one where you learn a lot of information. Anyways, in the next chapter there is a little more action between Draco and Hermione, in which they both share a very, very disturbing event. Later on, Crystal returns to her insane self and toys around with Ron a bit. (Don't worry, no slashes involving the Oracles. Leo is too young and though Crystal is the same age as the others, she's still a little bit older than them and it would be just too weird!)